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silent-sanctum · 9 months

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✧ Polaris ✧ - Jotaro x Reader

PART 10: LOYALTY

— The previous parts of the fic can be found in the pinned post of my profile. Hope you enjoy! —

word count: 7.3k

After days of traveling, Egypt was finally beneath their feet and they made it despite the many inconveniences on the way, namely the vehicular accidents, Stand encounters, or both.

Including their most recent one involving the now-sunken submarine and a metal-shifting Stand. But none of that matters now when everyone in the Crusaders made it on to land, no longer needing to deal with the enemy user of High Priestess after her teeth got beat in thanks to Star Platinum’s rapid, hard-hitting fists.

A nearby town by the sea made it more convenient for them to stop by and get their bearings to prepare them for the remainder of their mission.

It was there that Polnareff and Kakyoin were able to gather more stuff needed for their trip, for Avdol to get into contact with the Speedwagon Foundation regarding “back-up” being ready to help the team out, for Mr. Joestar and Jotaro to find a rental service for a jeep capable of traversing the desert, and for you to communicate with some of the locals to learn about the typical weather conditions, nearby cities, unusual sightings, and possible pit stops that the guys might need to rest.

By the time the transport was good to go and the necessities packed in the trunk, there was nothing that could stop them from proceeding onward.

It was Polnareff’s turn to man the wheel with everyone else settling to sit on their spots. “Hold up everyone,” Mr. Joestar spoke up, hopping out of the jeep and rushing over to the nearby telephone booth. “I got to make a quick phone call to Suzy. Me falling conscious was not exactly reassuring for her poor heart.”

You followed after the old man with the intention of calling your uncle. Considering the number of stressful events that happened for the past weeks, hearing his voice could soothe the lingering feeling of homesickness at the back of your mind. Though as you got a few steps in to Mr. Joestar’s direction, a hand placed itself on your shoulder.

With one look over your shoulder, you found yourself unable to contain a smile as you stared up at Jotaro standing behind you, falling in line to use the booth. “Well well~ missing someone are we?”

No response as you’d expect, though the pointed stare and red-tipped ears were enough giveaways that he missed his doting mother.

“Hm?… Really? What for?…. Alright sweetie.” Mr. Joestar turned to his grandson with a hand muffling the receiver. “Suzy wants to talk to you.”

A quick glint of surprise flashed in the delinquent’s eyes, not expecting a talk with his grandmother. Though, they did converse for a brief moment as the old man’s replacement before the submarine lost all its connections. Maybe, that’s why his grandma wanted a form of closure from her grandson.

And you can tell that he saw his grandmother with complete respect. There’s that characteristic softening of his eyes when he listened to her talk, the way he never raised his voice once during the whole conversation, and just like whenever he responded to you after that night, there’s a faint pink to his ears as if he feels a bit bashful from the support of the elderly woman.

His gaze free from tension was always a nice sight.

Their talk didn’t last long, most likely just her checking up on her husband and grandchild. Jotaro placed the phone back into its holder on the booth but didn’t let go. There was contemplation in the way he just stood there, not wanting to move away. Did he want to call Holly?

It wouldn’t surprise you considering he actively chose to embark on this dangerous journey to save her life. It would only be normal if he began to worry about her worsening condition. “Do…” You started, letting his attention draw to you. “Do want to call someone else? I can ask Mr. Joestar if you’re too embarrassed to do it.”

You knew he wanted to say “yes” in the long pause in between you, but with a deep sigh, he tipped his hat over his face. “It’s fine.” She’s going to be fine. You assumed as much and you let it at that.

“If you say so. Though, it’s my turn to use the booth.”

Jotaro nodded and stepped aside, standing nearby even as Mr. Joestar had already retreated to the jeep with the others. You clawed through the depths of your mind for that string of numbers you saved months ago. It was told to be a small “cure for homesickness” as someone said.

Eventually, you managed to find the right number and the phone begun to ring. In a minute, a kind-hearted voice you haven’t heard for a while picked up:

“Hello?”

“H-Hi pops…”

“Oh Y/N! It’s been a while since you’ve called! How are you? Have you been adjusting well over there?”

You bit your lip, holding back the tears building up in your eyes. Just like how the delinquent had missed his mother, it just struck you that you had also missed your adopted family back in your hometown.

“There were a couple of crappy stuff that happened, but I’m doing good I guess,” you replied.

“That’s a relief sweetheart. How about… uhm… your nightly terrors? Are you holding up?”

You didn’t want to dump him with the fact you broke down that one time. You didn’t want to worry the poor man when all you wanted was to hear him for a bit. “They’re… a lot but nothing I can’t handle.”

“I know you told us that it’s not necessary and all, but that always remember that if you’re feeling lonely, your auntie and I are always available, alright?”

“Oh but I’m not alone. I made a couple of friends for the past few months here.”

“That’s great news! Have they been treating you right?”

“They’re nice and fun to be around. I’ve gotten close to them a lot…” Warmth sprung to your cheeks with the next words that came next. “Some closer than others.”

Out of the corner of your eye, the delinquent’s face ducked away with his hat serving as the only cover for his equally tinted cheeks. “I would love to meet your new friends when we visit. Don’t forget to remind me!”

You chuckled. “I will.”

“I believe it’s time for you to go.”

“Yeah…”

“We love you Y/N. You take care of yourself over there.”

An abrupt honk startled you from the call and with one more look back, you smiled as the Crusaders began to call for you and Jotaro with the latter not budging from his spot, patiently waiting for you to finish. “You can trust me on that, pops.”

---

You’ve made a lot of progress driving across the sandy landscape when the sound of whirling blades drew close to the group from above.

Looking upwards, a helicopter with the Foundation’s logo painted on its side greeted the Crusaders. This must be that back-up Mr. Joestar had been talking about.

“Wow would you look at that, they actually did send back-up so far deep into this trip,” Polnareff said, low-key dripping with snark. “Could’ve been earlier I’m just saying.”

“It’s better than nothing, I guess. You don’t have to whine about it,” Kakyoin answered back.

Regardless, Polnareff put the engine to a halt and with the jeep parked, everyone got out of the vehicle the same time the flying craft made its landing. “Why can’t we just board that thing and fly ourselves over to where we need to be, old man?” Jotaro asked through the gusts of sand blowing through their faces.

“As much of an appealing offer that is, we have to consider that there’s too much of us. We might end up being too heavy for the craft and besides,” you said back at him. “They’re not Stand users. It’s better not to place more risk onto others.”

“Just a bit of a warning,” Mr. Joestar spoke up. “The guy’s a bit of a handful. That’s why it took so long for him to get here.” At the mention, you side-eyed the Frenchman just to see him reel back from his whining from earlier.

Though Avdol seemed to know who exactly the old man was talking about at the aforementioned warning. “Are you really considering taking him with us? Won’t his presence just hold us back?”

“As Kakyoin said, it’s better than nothing. Just be careful around him.”

“You both saying that gives off the impression that our new pal over there is a demon spawn from hell,” you retorted. “A back-up is a back-up. No matter how annoying the guy is, we’re just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.”

“Easier said than done Y/N. I’ve met him before and he’s… a lot. Being the user of The Fool, might cause a lot of inconveniences.”

“Look, if he is as handful as you two have been saying so far, then I’ll make sure he complies with us, alright?” you sighed. “Nothing’s more irritating than seeing unnecessary rebellion when we got dire things to do.”

As much as your words sent some kind of reassurance to the two adults in the group, Polnareff snickered in the sidelines. “I don’t know about you, but The Fool sounds like a stupid name in my opinion.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that. Don’t judge a book by its cover, Pol. “You should consider this a blessing that he’s on our side. You can’t beat him.” Avdol said for you.

And just like their heated argument from India, Polnareff didn’t take his response lightly. He marched over to the Egyptian, grabbed his robes, and said, “I suggest watching your mouth if you know what’s good for you.”

“Pol,” you said, curt. “What did I say about taking things personally?”

The Frenchman spluttered, letting go of Avdol to face you. “But you heard him! He assumed I was weak and-”

“What did I say, Polnareff?” you repeated, this time with enough grit and punctuation on each word to drive your point across your companion’s emotional skull. “Or do you want one of us to nearly die again because of your stubbornness?”

Flustered at this point, he let his pride dwindle a bit and stepped away from Avdol, mumbling incoherent words with crossed arms. In some way of easing him, you placed a hand behind his back in a silent way of saying “thanks.”

Just then, the door opened for the pilot to step down and greet the team with formality. “Mr. Joestar, good to see you.”

“Thank you for bringing him here. It must have been rough.”

“I assume none of you is the alleged Stand user?” you commented before Jotaro could make one. “You both seem fairly polite.”

“You’re right ma’am. He’s there in the back.” One of them walked to the passenger’s door to open it, revealing nobody but a dark blanket covering the seat.

“Hey now, quit joking around you two! What’s the deal? This guy’s short or something?” The Frenchman laughed, smacking the fabric, only to pull back with sticky saliva on his hands. “Ugh what is this goop?”

The pilot responded in a panic. “Hey! Stop that! The ride here was rough so he’s in a sour mood!”

“Pol, you better get back here right now.”

“What’s the big deal? I’m just asking where-” Before he could continue, the blanket rustled violently and something jumped out of the seat it occupied.

A Boston Terrier. A dog.

What the fuck?

“The dog is the-” Kakyoin started, equally surprised as the rest of you, except for Avdol and Mr. Joestar.

“Mhm. His name’s Iggy and he’s the user of The Fool,” he said even as the canine continued to wreak havoc on Polnareff’s silver up-do with relentless biting and scratching. “He’s got the habit of ripping hairs off of people’s heads and to be honest, I don’t know where he’s from. It was Avdol who found him in the streets of New York.”

“And the fella also has a tendency to-” Not that his sentence matters when in the middle of Iggy’s manic biting, he stopped to let out one loud fart straight onto Pol’s face. “Do that.”

You didn’t know if it was the stinky gas or just your general tiredness in dealing with a 24-year-old man like a child, but you merely watched as the said adult drew out Silver Chariot to attack a small, rabid creature. As you would’ve expected, Iggy returned the favor with his own Stand- an entity made entirely of sand, forming together to become a larger mechanical canine.

The fight didn’t last long though. One minute you saw Polnareff sending Chariot to stab Iggy’s Stand and in the next, he’s back writhing on the sandy ground with an aggravated, feral dog chewing his stylized hair into a bird’s nest.

“Have you brought his favorite treats?” You turned to Avdol asking the pilot who nodded, reaching into his pocket to bring out a box full of what appeared to be… gum?

The sound of the packets inside were enough to alert Iggy and spare the remaining hair left on his victim. “Of course. We wouldn’t be able to bring him here otherwise.” With the box now in Avdol’s hand, the dog leaped out of Pol’s body and rushed over to him, giddy and possibly greedy.

Knowing how Iggy works by now, you could tell he wasn’t only after the single stick of gum the Egyptian was holding up. By the time the terrier reached a few feet away from him, one of Silent Sanctuary’s strips zipped past you to snag the box of gum out of Avdol’s hold before the canine could.

“If I learned anything from the orangutan, the dog’s got personality too.” You had the gum in your possession- coffee flavored of all things considered- and Iggy’s attention focused onto you next, growling. “You want the whole thing?”

You didn’t expect any response from him but an attempt to bite your arm. You sidestepped the second the dog charged at you. Iggy turned back, now frustrated. “Do you want the box or do you want me throw it all far away?”

Demonstrating, you let Sanctuary wrap itself around the box and prepared to launch it off into a distance. You heard the dog yelp and sands shifting violently.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Kakyoin said, nearly off-balanced by the moving ground. “Can you just let him have it?”

“The Fool’s emerging again!” Mr. Joestar called out after him.

You ignored their pleas, focusing on your current task.

“Try intimidating all you want but your sand can’t hurt me or this cloth right here,” you said, patting the taut fabric beside you. “So, what’s it gonna be- a whole box of delicious coffee gum? Or none at all?” You didn’t waste anymore time as Sanctuary moved an inch-

Then Iggy whimpered, letting the sands rest with surrender. A wave of relieved sighs swept the air from the Crusaders and the pilots. “You done fussing?” The terrier got on his belly, head bowed. You huffed and approached him with the gum still inside your Stand’s wrap just to make sure he’s not pretending.

“Good boy.” You got onto one knee to level yourself with the growling dog. “I can still launch this to god knows where so you ready to hear me out?”

Iggy nodded, still sulking.

“I’ll give you this whole box now just like you want but,” you said. “What if I told you instead that Mr. Joestar over there will buy you a year’s worth of coffee gum as a reward for you helping us finish this mission?” At that suggestion, Iggy’s ears perked up and his tail wagged with interest.

“Hey now! When did I say that?”

“Do you want our back-up to actually back us up or not?” You quipped at the old man with a smile dripping with snark. And Mr. Joestar went silent, scratching his beard knowing you had a point. Beside him, you could’ve sworn you saw Jotaro’s lip curl ever so slightly. “Exactly.”

You turned back to Iggy, pleased he didn’t make any attempt attacking Sanctuary while you were distracted. “How about it? Ready to help us?” You slowly brought up a fist and with a bark, he raised a paw to place on top of it. “And I expect you to actually help us. No free riding just for the treats, got it? I’ll be watching.”

Iggy barked in agreement.

“Here you go. As promised.”

Sanctuary stretched herself to the terrier, unwrapping the cloth to drop the gum in front of him. Immediately, Iggy pounced on it and began to gnaw on both the coffee treats and the carton they were in.

“Unbelievable,” Avdol said in awe as you walked to where the guys were, dusting sand off your skirt and hands. “You got him to cooperate for the time being.”

“Classic conditioning does wonders to feral animals when done right,” you shrugged. “That and I’m used to talking to stray animals. Being a new citizen to the country can be boring at times.”

With the new ally dilemma resolved, everyone returned to replenishing their stash with medical supplies, additional food and clothing, tracking gears, and a brand new prosthetic hand for Mr. Joestar. In addition, the pilot handed over a camera for the old man’s Stand to utilize with convenience.

But having a camera wasn’t exactly for Stand reasons alone. “Hey everyone! Why don’t we take a group photo while we have this bad boy still in one piece?”

Never wanting to miss the opportunity, all the Crusaders agreed to it wholeheartedly. With the camera in the pilot’s hand, everyone gathered to one spot and got into position- with Polnareff, Mr. Joestar, and Iggy in front, and Kakyoin, Avdol, Jotaro, and you in the back.

The shutter went off and a polaroid photograph was made for the memories.

“Hey Mr. Joestar? Can I borrow that one second?” Before he could reply, you went to grab the device off the pilot’s hand, hurrying back to stand beside Jotaro, slightly caught off guard at the sudden pictorial. “Would you mind if I…you know…”

He hesitated a bit, but after one long stare-off between his borderline glare and your eager gaze, he gave in. “Alright… good grief.”

Excited, you got a bit closer to the delinquent and leaned back a bit, just enough so the angle was right. You pressed the button and heard the shutter activate. Without having to wait for too long, the photo came out as nice as you’d expect it- you smiling with a wink and your hand on your shoulder, with Jotaro closely behind looking at the camera with one eye open (mirroring yours), a subtle curl to his lip, and a faint red on his cheeks.

“Now this is a keeper.”

Jotaro looked at the picture for a second longer and nodded. “Whatever you say.”

---

Jotaro liked the photo. A lot.

He’d keep it if he could, but his stubborn facade held him back from admitting that to you. Besides, you wanted the picture in the first place and he wouldn’t want to take the memento away from you.

With their supplies now stocked and ready to go, time shouldn’t be wasted any further. The helicopter’s blades whirled to life once again, lifting the aircraft up just as the jeep revved with its engine switched on. However, you barely drove across any distance when out of nowhere, a strong gust of wind and sand pushed the vehicle hard, nearly toppling it over.

“What the hell was that?!”

Everyone, with the exception of Iggy who remained asleep, scrambled out of the jeep to look back at the source and to the team’s shock, they saw what had happened. “Is that-”

“The helicopter…” Before them, what used to be a fully functioning mode of transportation now lay in a complete wreck on the golden sand- its body bent in half, metallic skin appeared to be clawed down to its wiring, windows smashed, and its blades crooked and falling apart.

And beneath all that ruined material was a pilot’s corpse, jaw agape and nails bloody from the scratches it had done on the helicopter’s hard exterior. While Kakyoin, Avdol, and Pol went off to inspect the tail end, the remaining crew went on to investigate the shell-shocked cadaver.

Both the craft and its passengers didn’t show any signs that could have sabotaged either. Though in an attempt to pull the body out, Jotaro noticed something in the pilot’s open mouth. “See something?” Joseph asked.

At closer inspection, Jotaro’s brows furrowed with concerned disgust. “Water. Full of it in his mouth.” He grabbed hold of the man’s chin and turned it to the side, allowing the copious amount of fluid to flow out onto the ground. “Saliva doesn’t fill the mouth that much. So it’s not from there but from the lungs,” he said, clearly perturbed. “Shit, that means he drowned in the desert of all places.”

“Rapid water build-up in a dry area like this with no rain? An enemy Stand’s responsible no doubt,” you remarked, already surveying the area for any other suspicious activity.

“Guys!” Your team turned to the other direction where the other 3 was at. “It’s the other pilot! He’s alive!”

The Crusaders re-grouped, forming a circle around the aforementioned man heaving on the sand, incredibly dehydrated and parched. His skin cracked in every area of his body with his bones jutting out underneath. The poor guy struggled to speak but all he could muster were gasps and heaves.

“Quick, Polnareff! Water! He needs water!” Joseph pointed at the nearby fallen canister. The silver-haired adult retrieved the container and brought it to the old man’s hand. “Here, drink up. You need it bad.”

Jotaro would expect the pilot would immediately latch on to it, but suspicion continued to build up the longer the man would refuse to drink from it, let alone go near it even. He grew more frantic the more the stubborn elder kept pushing the canister forward.

And in the last moment, the pilot found his voice.

“GET THAT AWAY FROM ME-”

With no warning, something shot out of the water container and dug its claws into the man’s face, violently tearing at skin, muscle, sinew, and bone until the whole head detached from its body.

You screamed, losing balance as you flinched hard from the abrupt and brutal death. Shit! Jotaro caught you before you could tumble to the ground, pulling you close to him as he shielded your eyes from watching the entity force the fresh head into the canister.

“Everyone move!”

The team jumped off a fair distance away from the now-bleeding object. The delinquent turned to you, slowly removing his hand off of your face once that thing settled. Without asking, you looked back at him with a shaky sigh. “I’m fine now,” you muttered. “Thanks.”

Whose Stand was that just now? More importantly, where was the user to begin with? Throughout their course here, he hadn’t noticed anyone that stood out from the rest of the crowd, nor did he find any silhouette roaming about in the vast desert sands.

Could this Stand be long-ranged just like The Lovers? Or was it remote?

Jotaro took the stillness of the moment to assess his surroundings, bringing out a pair of binoculars to search further and Star Platinum for an extra pair of eyes. Beside him, you helped with scanning the areas behind. Joseph and Avdol lie still nearby, never leaving their sights on the ominous object in front of them.

“Anything?” Joseph whispered.

The delinquent shook his head.

Farthest from the team were Polnareff and Kakyoin, lying across from them arguing something about who’s Stand should be the first to attack it. If they’d be any closer, he might have a way to shut them up and stop them from being annoying in the middle of an ambush.

Then there it was again, a damp spot growing on the sand a few inches away from Kakyoin gradually growing more wet until-

“Kakyoin!” The enemy Stand sprang from the moistened ground to claw both the cherry-haired’s eyes with a single, nearly deadly swipe. Polnareff reacted accordingly and caught his body as it fell lax.

“Get over here! Hurry!” You yelled at them, distressed. At the same time, those close to the jeep climbed on top of the vehicle to get away from the enemy’s range.

The Frenchman wasted no time and got up with his friend in his arms, sprinting as fast as he can away from the hunting Stand. Helping close the distance was Silent Sanctuary extending strips of its fabrics towards them with impressive speed. They latched themselves around wherever they could on both their bodies and with one solid tug, pulled them towards the jeep’s roof before the Stand could land a cut on Polnareff’s leg.

“How is he?” You hurried over to inspect the injuries on the student’s face.

“He’s breathing at least so I guess he’s fine,” Pol panted, high with adrenaline. “He’s knocked out though. Probably will stay like that until his eyes are treated.”

“Look for some bandages. We should stop the bleeding for now.”

Leaving them to tend to his wounds, Jotaro drew his focus back to the sand. Where is it? Now that he knew what to look for, he kept lookout for any puddle appearances or formation of any dark patches. Where are you, you piece of shit. “How do we beat this thing if it keeps going into hiding every time it loses track of us?” Joseph said, concerned with their current situation.

“We need to lure it out somehow. I can burn it with Magician’s Red but only if it’s distracted long enough,” Avdol said in return.

For a moment, they didn’t know what to do. There was a solution in the Egyptian’s plan, but to pull that off was something that still needed a bit more time to polish. Unfortunately for them, time wasn’t given to them when out of the window seat, Iggy barked repeatedly as he leaped out of the vehicle. He continued to do so at them even when his paws landed outside.

You heard him and understood that as a warning. Why else would he jump off if he was fine sleeping in it minutes ago?

“Get away from the jeep!” The guys turned to you as if you had grown another head, questioning why should they when doing so put them on its radar, but you barely got a word out when the vehicle trembled. “Now!”

At the last second, everyone jumped off the jeep’s roof a second before the transport sunk into sand. All of you stuck a rough landing but made it out just in time. Though, you couldn’t move when the fluid Stand crept towards the team.

Beads of sweat ran down your back as Silent Sanctuary hovered above you, ready to provide defense. You’d find out that won’t be necessary when across from you, a watch’s alarm blared out. The hand retracted itself and launched its claws towards the corpse’s wrist, cutting the hand clean from the arm before hiding once again.

“Sound,” Avdol muttered. “It hunts using sound and movement.”

It would make sense. When it first attacked the pilot, the man had screamed in panic. Then its next target was Kakyoin because of his argument with Polnareff. The watch was next after due to the alarm, and last was the jeep itself because of the team’s discussions. Everyone seemed to get the memo with one shared eye contact when all of them remained still and silent.

Testing out his hypothesis, Avdol slowly reached for his silver bracelets. One-by-one, he tossed a hoop onto the empty space in front of him, done in a pace mimicking how someone would walk with cautious steps.

“Jotaro,” He glanced at you, and if he didn’t know whether to be concerned or not when you were already on one knee with a plan in mind. You whispered. “Find a way to traverse the desert without running. The user has to be around somewhere.”

What are you doing? “Avdol’s plan has a high chance of backfiring once he runs out. I have a back-up plan in mind and part of it needs you to do what I told you earlier.” He had his doubts but just as you said, the last of the Egyptian’s bracelets marked itself on the ground, luring out the water Stand to its position.

The delinquent looked back at you with furrowed brows, wanting to tell you that his plan was working and to get down. However, once Magician’s Red hovered behind it to launch a fire ball, the entity dodged it at the last second. Now it was aware where Avdol was.

“Now.” A strip of rose-gold zipped out to shield the adult’s neck where the Stand’s trajectory was aiming for. The same time Avdol retreated back, you bolted out of your safe spot and ran across the sands. “Hey! Over here, you little shit!”

With the taunt, the Stand swam its way to you and leaped. Though it couldn’t do any harm when Silent Sanctuary had a ton of impenetrable fabrics ready to defend its user. Each swipe of its claws could only scratch the silk surface of your Stand, unable to tear at its seams.

You locked one more eye contact with Jotaro and this time, he got to his feet as well.

Get around without running? How the hell will I do that? He looked around him to see what can help him do that. He turned to every one of his companions, gauging if their Stands could do shit relevant to his task. But then his gaze stopped at Iggy, staying put in one spot away from the group.

The user of a sand-based Stand able to form into anything it wanted. Got it. “Hey you,” he called out to the canine. “Think you can make something up to get us across in the air?”

Iggy growled, sharing glares with the delinquent. “Listen mutt, do you want your damn supply of gum or not? You heard what Y/N said.” There was still that reluctance present in the dog’s posture, but given that he’s unable to pass on the opportunity on free food, he begrudgingly complied.

In that moment, the sands went into motion around them, swirling around the canine until it rose to form The Fool in its entirety. Unlike its former appearance, a large glider had attached itself on the mechanical Stand’s back. It rolled forward to pick Iggy in its metallic paws. He barked at Jotaro, telling him to grab onto it to hitch a ride.

The delinquent cocked his head. I can’t believe I’m doing this. He grabbed hold onto The Fool’s arm and using Star’s force, he launched both Iggy and himself up into the sky with one strong leap.

Jotaro looked back to see what you were up to. Suffice to say, you still kept up the distraction as the clawed hand repeatedly failed in landing a single cut anywhere on your body thanks to the glint of silk protecting you. With you keeping it busy, the others used the moment to get the jeep above ground and get it running.

Focusing ahead, he brought out Star’s eyes and surveyed the surrounding areas for any sign of a lone Stand user. In front of him, Iggy sniffed the air, actually helping him search and in doing so, The Fool maneuvered itself to the direction of any foreign scent he could smell.

And after minutes of searching, Jotaro managed to find someone 400 meters away- a man cross-sitting atop a sandy hill, head bowed in concentration with a cane in hand connected to the ground. There you are. However, they couldn’t reach in time as they neared the ground.

“Damnit,” Once his foot grazed the sand, he brought Star out once again to launch themselves up into the sky. But by doing that, he gave away his location to the enemy and he could hear the once-distracted Stand approach, harshly swimming underneath the sands, causing multiple granules to sprinkle against the glider and emit a distinct sound as its trail.

Now that our location’s on his radar, it’ll only be a matter of until- The second the sandy rain stopped falling, the watery Stand leaped out of the ground, aiming straight for Jotaro. Star Platinum hovered before him in an attempt to block it, but to his dismay, the enemy Stand slipped past the humanoid’s fist and landed a clean cut across his shoulders and a hole on The Fool’s glider.

Losing flight again, they drifted low onto land, faster than earlier with a heavy tilt causing his shoes to drag across the ground. Jotaro cursed. The man was so close, so close that he could hear him chuckle as if success was within his reach. Would he even make it there without having to constantly deal with this deadly hand?

Fuck it. Jotaro let go of The Fool, allowing Iggy to swerve away to safety, and got into a stance where Star is able to lend its leg power for one more jump, preferably behind the enemy Stand user so he could get one solid hit to render him unconscious. There was the risk of getting attacked in a fatal area, with the pain radiating on his shoulder serving as a reminder of the danger, but if it meant ending this obstacle then so be it.

The delinquent could feel the shifting of the sand making way for the rapidly approaching liquid. He put all his force into his one leg and just as he made that leap, a voice yelled out in the back.

“Catch!”

Something flew past Jotaro’s leg in high speed and what once was targeted at him, the Stand changed course and retreated back into the ground, hurrying back to return to its user. Glancing back, he saw you from a distance standing on top of the recovered jeep with Pol manning the wheel. Silent Sanctuary floated close-by with one strip loosened being the one responsible for the throw.

But by the time the clawed hand made it in time to slice the item- the bleeding canister- in half before it could reach its user, Jotaro had already landed behind him, remaining still to not alert his position.

It wasn’t too long until the man realized that his target stood just outside the water barrier he set for himself. He made it known that he was honored by the way Jotaro decided to approach him, one that wasn’t simply walking up to a blind man to knock the living daylights out of him.

With silent agreement, their battle would end with one attack. Both would hold themselves for a bit longer until their attacks are fired at the same time just like all those Western movies Jotaro would watch as a kid. Their timer would be the cane the man held, letting it fall slowly from his grasp.

In the end, Jotaro was hailed as the victor of their duel, managing to deliver a heavy punch onto the man’s face while his Stand could only knock the hat off his head.

There were a lot to be asked now that they got one of DIO’s lackeys under their grasp, but that hope for any intel dissipated as the man let his own Stand run itself through his chest, piercing the heart inside. The act surprised Jotaro since he never had encountered someone who’d take his own life to evade questioning.

Even as the teenager asked him why he’d do such a thing when he had a life to live for, his reasoning was admirable even if it was twisted with lies of being given a purpose, and is rooted deep due to cult-like devotion. Even in defeat, his loyalty to his god and his fellow companions was unwavering, that he’d rather die than betray his fellow men.

Their conversation ended not too long after and the man named N’Doul breathed his last and died just like he intended, serving his master until the very end.

For the first time in his life, Jotaro gave genuine respect to someone of the opposite side.

The delinquent stayed around for a bit longer until the sun had set into the horizon, giving the blind man a proper burial grave to honor his sense of devotion one last time. His cane, planted on top of the small lump, acted as N’Doul’s personal headstone.

“You know you didn’t have to, right?”

Jotaro looked over to see you stand beside him, hands clasped over your skirt to pay your respects to the grave. “I know, but it felt… wrong to just leave him as is.”

“For you to treat him like this… I guess you both had quite of a chat.”

“Maybe.”

The sun continued to retreat in the distance. “We should head back,” you said. “Your shoulder has some patching up to do. Pol left some of the bandage used for Nori’s eyes.” Although the pain wasn’t that bad, Jotaro knew you by now that refusing treatment wasn’t in your choices. And so he nodded once.

A bark interrupted the both of you. “Guess who found your hat?” You smiled as Iggy crept up from behind your shins, holding his ripped hat with his teeth. “I gotta say, it’s quite impressive the man’s able to knock it off your head that far.”

“Would you look at that?” Jotaro got onto one knee and waited for the terrier to approach him with caution. He reached forward to grab it off his mouth. “Seems you’re not all that bad. Thanks.”

The teenager attempted to give Iggy a head pat, only for the latter to growl at him and run towards the direction of the jeep. In return, Jotaro scowled as he placed the hat back on its rightful spot.

“Little shit.”

“Reminds me of a certain someone, don’t you agree?” You smiled, cheeky.

“Shut up.”

---

Given how late the day had gotten, everyone in the group agreed to camp out in the middle of the desert, waiting out one night before they could continue on with their trip.

A fire was set up in the middle of their makeshift site filled with sleeping mats and cooking paraphernalia, providing a decent amount of warmth for the team in the midst of the chilly evening air. They had a simple dinner of cooked beans and biscuits, chatted with each other for a while, until majority agreed to hit the hay for the remaining hours.

Until now, you still couldn’t bring yourself to fall asleep. You haven’t gotten any sleep for the past hours and with the exhaustion taking over every inch of your body, you didn’t know whether you even wanted to sleep or force yourself awake. You didn’t want to end up in that manor again after all.

Figuring sleep wasn’t your best option as of the moment, you turned to look for the one person who you could trust yourself to be with at this hour.

“Hey…” You waved at the delinquent resting on top of his mat, staying upright against the surface of the jeep. He looked up at you, curious. “Would you mind if I… sit here?”

Not a word was said in return but Jotaro scooting over to the side was enough. You placed your mat beside his and sat beside him.

“Staying up again?” He nodded. “Don’t you feel tired though? You must have times where you just wanna sleep the night away.”

“It’s nothing new. A day nap or two can help me get by.”

“You’re lucky. What I would give to not worry about taking naps. I’m so tired but alas… here I am eyes heavy,” you sighed, resting your head against the vehicle’s surface. “I don’t want to go back there. Can you help me with that?”

“How?”

You shrugged. “Dunno… Maybe I just like hearing you talk. Your voice is really nice.”

A chilling gust of breeze brushed by, causing your body to shiver from the cold. You tried to keep it in, even shoving your feet in the mat as if that could help, until something lightly nudged at you.

You turned to see Jotaro offering you his gakuran without looking at you. From your angle, you peeked at the bandage wrapped around his shoulder courtesy of you. Trailing up, you could see his averted face bearing tightened lips, almost embarrassed with what he just did.

Either way, your cheeks flushed and you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. You gingerly took the uniform without a word and let it drape over you, nearly covering your entire frame. In it, you could pick up on the faint smell of that citrus scent you recognized back in Singapore and the more obvious hint of tobacco laced with it.

The material itself was warm enough to shield you from the evening chill and you buried as much of yourself inside, savoring the warmth it gave as you grasped the edges of the clothing and tugged it over each other.

“You know I don’t talk much.”

“Didn’t seem like that back in the submarine though,” you said. “Longest I’ve ever heard you speak without a break.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not!” You quickly butted in. “If anything, it made me stupid for the lack of knowledge I have on ocean life. But that just means you have more intellect in that head of yours than just being an ordinary bad boy. Hell, I might need you to tutor me on our future classes.”

Jotaro deadpanned at you, and you giggled. “I’m joking.”

In the minutes without either of you talking, he reached into his pocket and brought out his silver lighter. You thought he’d reach for his cigarettes next, but he didn’t. Instead he fidgeted with the item, flicking the lid open and close. “What… do you want to know?”

“Anything. Whatever you have stored in that memory bank of yours, lay it on me.”

With some reluctance, Jotaro began to share a couple more facts about all the things he might have read prior to their journey. From animal biology to the mechanisms of ships and planes, to the tropes of his favorite movies, you listened to him with full attention and you made sure he knew that by asking questions in-between, to which he answered to with ease.

Neither of you knew how long this went but you didn’t care. You were invested in the way he’d talk about the things he was passionate in, the way he unknowingly began to open more of himself to you without having the need to do so, and from the way you could see more of his youthful energy peeking through all his many layers of jaded stoicism and teenage angst.

It was endearing. Almost wholesome even. You did say you liked hearing him speak, and perhaps this was why.

It also didn’t occur to either one of you that you gradually leaned towards him until you had your arm pressing against his.

However, you still couldn’t hold back the need to shut your eyes as they grew heavier with each passing second, and accompanied by the baritone voice of your companion and the soothing warmth of his uniform, you gave in to its temptation with a drawn-out yawn.

Jotaro paused, taking the time to look at you. “I have to go back again. I’m so sleepy…”

“Then sleep.”

You closed your eyes as you leaned your head on his shoulder, mumbling out a few more words before fully falling into slumber. “But I don’t wanna hurt anymore…”

Silence. And then a response- deep and raspy, but at the same time soft and reassuring. “You don’t have to worry.”

“I’ll be here."

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #polaris au

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orion4ever · 4 months

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Baxter comes back from work to his s/o making a life sized cut out of him bc they missed him. That's it that's the request.

Author’s Note: Sorry for not posting any fics lately! Summer coming up so the grind is coming back so please expect more request answered! ^^

Pairing: Baxter Ward x MC x Cardboard Cut Out of Baxter Ward

🖤🤍

Okay, what the flip bro?

The man just wants to come home and cuddle with bae but bae replaced him.

With a poorly made cardboard cut out of himself, like they don’t have the real thing right there?

Baxter snorts so loudly when he spots the cardboard cut out sitting in his spot on the couch.

He feels KINDA (he doesn’t feel that bad lmao) bad that you have resorted to making a cardboard cut out

Before the creation of cardboard cut Baxter , he definitely notices some signs that your up to something. it wasn’t that much of a secret, you literally asked him to stand like this ‘🧍🏻’ while you took a picture of him.

Baxter walked up to his apartment and dug around in his pockets for his keys. It's been a long day and he was ready to come home, especially since you moved in recently!

He unlocked the door and allowed himself in only to be met with a...peculiarly sight.

You were on all fours in your pajamas in the living room and appeared to be hovering over something.

"MC, I am home." he coughed, allowing his presence to be known. You paused your suspicious activity and looked shocked.

"Baxter! Welcome back!" You said casually, maybe a little quickly. You quickly got up and started to shuffle the thing you were working on away from Baxter.

"No need to hide your little project, darling." Baxter teased and sidestepped you to see what you were working on.

"......Is that me?"

The cardboard cutout was a little crude, the edges around the image were rushed, and the printer paper you used to make his likeness was a little soggy from over-gluing. The cardboard cutout was of yours truly, he wasn't in any fancy pose. The image you used looked like he had no thoughts behind his eyes with his neutral face.

He didn't care much about you making a cutout of him but was a bit disgruntled about something else.

"Why did you use THAT picture? I look asinine here" he chuckled, pointing to cardboard Baxter's expressionless face.

"I needed an easy pose to cut you out" You explained, now that the jig was up; you picked up your completed product. The thing was almost Baxter's height if not off by a few inches.

"Why would you make this at all? Do you miss me that much" Baxter teased, examining your shoddy craftsmanship.

"I do! I love that you help people plan their dream weddings but I miss you during their consultations and especially on wedding days when I am all alone" You admitted, giving Cardboard Baxter a playful little 'mwah'.

"So I just wanted to make my own Baxter to hang out with while you worked!"

Baxter felt bad but he couldn't forget the fact that your solutions was to clone him with Ikea boxes.

"Come on, I will make it up to you! Let's go cuddle" Baxter grinned giving you a side hug as he led you to your shared bedroom.

"You know... if you wanted someone to hang out with, then I could've given you that"

"Yeah, I kno-......What do you mean by that."

#baxter ward #olba #our life beginnings & always #orion4ever #gb patch #olba baxter #fanfic #baxter ward x reader #baxter ward x mc #baxter ward x you #our life beginning and always baxter ward #carboard cut of baxter

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got-into-worm-by-mistake · 3 months

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Insinuation 2.2 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

While I wouldn't say any of the word count is wasted, per se, I do think that for all that 1.6 million words is impressive... did it really need to be 1.6 million words? 2.1 felt like 75% space filler tbh.

The go-to place for news and discussion on capes was Parahumans Online. The front page had constant updates on recent, international news featuring capes. From there, I could go to the wiki, where there was information on individual capes, groups and events, or to the message boards, which broke down into nearly a hundred sub-boards, for specific cities and capes. I opened the wiki in one tab, then found and opened the message board for Brockton Bay in another.

There are many advantages to letting your characters properly use the internet.

I had the sense that either Tattletale or Grue were the leader of the group I had run into.

Tattletale, really, seems like.

“This article is a stub. Be a hero and help us expand it.”

*snort* Jesus christ, that feels too real.

The only new information for me was that her costume was lavender. A search of the message boards turned up absolutely nothing. There wasn’t even a hint as to what her power was

And yet sometimes even the internet fails in the face of people just not being worth noticing yet.

Rachel Lindt had never made any real attempt to hide her identity. She had apparently been homeless through most of her criminal career, just living on the streets and moving on whenever police or a cape came after her.

I am somehow both shocked and not at all surprised she's managed to pull this off.

Monsters the size of a car, all muscle, bone, fang and claw.

Half the time fanfics seem to almost imply the end up with Scales and shit too?

At the very bottom of the page was a list of links that were related to her: two fansites

Bitch has Fansites? Why am I actually surprised?

He was estimated to have forty or fifty thugs working for him across Brockton Bay,

I feel like this is an issue of Wildbow not having enough sense of the scale. The Bay has three main gangs, E88, ABB and the Merchants, and 40-50 seems way too small to be a player.

but Lung had made it a mission to conquer and absorb every gang with Asian members and many without. Once he had the manpower he needed, the non-Asian gangs were cannibalized for assets, their members discarded. Even though there were no more major gangs in the east end of town to absorb, he was still recruiting zealously.

And yet... he still only has 40-50?

He could teleport, but when he did so, he didn’t disappear. As he teleported, his original self, for lack of a better term, would stay where it was and remain active for five to ten seconds before disintegrating into a cloud of carbon ash. Essentially, he could create another version of himself anywhere nearby, while the old version could stick around long enough to distract or attack you.

One thing I love about Worm is that even when someone has a 'normal' power, like teleporting, they can't actually have a normal power. it's always some extra level of bullshit. :rofl:

By all rights, I should have been angry that Armsmaster took the credit for the fight that could have cost me my life.

I mean, you did tell him he could. And really, it's more complicated than that.

Buuut, on the other hand... yeah, I get it. She's still just 15, and 15 y/os are allowed to bounce their perspectives around.

I was given pause by one post that asked whether Bakuda could or would use a large scale bomb and the threat of potentially thousands or hundreds of thousands dead, to ransom Lung back.

That, I think, is called Foreshadowing

If it happened, it would be the responsibility of heroes better and more experienced than I.

Who are you and what have you done with Taylor "I'll take over the city and run it RIGHT" Herbert? :P :rofl:

It was meaningful, though. I couldn’t interpret it any other way; Tattletale had found a way to get in contact with me.

Probably because her power suggested it was likely you'd check PHO

#worm #wormblr #worm web serial #worm parahumans #worm wildbow #kylia reads worm #Taylor Hebert #Tattletale #Insinuation 2.2 #Since her name hasn't come up yet and all #Also I don't like her so she doesn't get the grace of a name #maybe I'll like her later but I am allowed to be unreasonably partisan

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ahedderick · 11 months

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Outdoor School

@oceanfloorfires I don't want to derail a perfectly good snake post, so I will write a separate one to explain Outdoor School. I hope this doesn't end up being TOO many details.

I have no idea how widespread this phenomenon is across the usa or the world, but it is a long tradition here in Maryland. There is a camp facility owned by the 4H club that is used for OS for a couple of weeks in September and October. There are simple cabins with rows of bunks, a bath house, a cafeteria, and several larger buildings. The idea is to get kids in their last year of elementary school out into the woods from Monday to Friday one week in the fall.

As a chaperone I was in charge of a cabin full of about 12 girls, half from our school and half from a different one. The girls I knew were pretty easy to handle, because I was a frequent volunteer in school and they knew me. The others - were a handful at times.

Parent chaperones did not have to attend any of the classes or activities, and in fact some of them had to scamper off to go to work. THAT must have been tough. I chose to go on all activities that had hikes, and a few of the classes.

The camp site is gorgeous. The weather is always surprisingly chilly, because it is one climate zone colder than home. The "classes" were absolutely terrible. They had to rely on volunteers to teach, and they got what they paid for. For example . . . no, I need to go take my medicine.

{pause for tranquilizers}

Ok, the one hike took them through the forest and also a gorgeous bog.

They paused in the forest to talk to the kids about the vegetation, and confidently told the children that. that. that a club moss (lycopodium) was a baby pine tree. *breaks down sobbing*

On another hike, a different instructor pointed dramatically at a small mountain laurel and told the kids it was a blueberry bush. The LOOK my daughter gave me. There was an actual lowbush blueberry right there. There was also a cranberry bush with one or two little cranberries on it. We had to point it out to the instructor, who said "Hunh. Maybe that IS a cranberry."

That aside. There were many good things. Showing up at the cafeteria three times a day to get a good meal that I didn't have to cook OR clean up was utterly splendid. I loved those cafeteria ladies. I hope they didn't find it unnerving that I beamed radiantly every time they handed me a tray of mediocre-but-nourishing food. One night we had movie night. They set up the projector and the screen in the middle of the cleared area. We were sitting in the dark, surrounded by an impressively large forest, watching a fun movie. Good times.

One dinner I tried sitting with the other chaperones instead of with my campers. It took me three days before I realized that chaperones were sitting separately. Oh, well. Someone came in and told the lady sitting across from me that "Lee" was outside having a meltdown. She rolled her eyes and started to get up reluctantly. "Um, would that be 'Lee' from [our school]?" I asked. Yes, it was.

"I'll handle this," I snapped, and Woman plunked back down. I did not punch her (but I wanted to). I went outside and found Lee sobbing like her heart would break. She was INTENSELY homesick. Neither of her parents could drive, and there was no other family member able to come (over an hour away from our town) get her. She had called home and begged to be picked up, but they couldn't. I held her and started Talking. How proud I was that she had made it Three Whole Days already. How strong she was! How proud she would be when - not if! - she made it to the last day. And didn't her older brother bail and go home when he did OS? My, wouldn't that be something, for her to succeed where Brother had failed. By the end of this she had subsided from sobbing to sniffling gently. She did indeed manage to complete the week. I told her and her chaperone that any further Issues should be directed to me, because I knew her and her family.

The last evening they gathered all the campers in the main building for skits (the less said, the better) and entertainment. The last thing was a spoooooooky story about the ghosts of the family that originally lived on the land when it was a farm and they still haunt the campground to this very day!!! The kids were scared silly (in a good way). We walked back through the dark (there were no outside lights anywhere) to our cabin. There were about four girls clinging to me, and the others were clumped very closely around. Campers going all different directions were hooting and yelling in the distant darkness.

Next morning the kids packed up, swept the cabin, and everybody went home. It was, overall, a good experience, give or take some late-night shenanigans. I was glad I did it. I missed the cafeteria ladies for weeks.

#outdoor school #fall #autumn #nature #camping #oceanfloorfires #parentblr #parenting #momblr #momlife

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startrekfangirl2233 · 1 year

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WIP Tag Game!

Rules: Create a new post and share snippets/screenshots/etc. from three of your WIPs! Art or Fic! Tag as many people as you like! (created by @limetimo)

Thank you so much to @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all for the tag and sharing your WIPs. The Stripper and Jake fic? I cannot wait to read more of that!

Here are three of my active WIPs :

Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) - Part 6: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) - Part 7: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Money, Money, Money : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

This is going to be long, so more after the cut!~

Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) - Part 6: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

"You nearly died, Jake." You can't help how your voice breaks as you say that word. "And?" He can't sound so matter of fact about this - like it is an everyday occurrence. Maybe it is - for him - but it's not for you. When you can't get your dry throat to cooperate, he continues. "This is what you signed up for. I'm a Naval Aviator." He's breathing raggedly before he spits out, "Or did you forget that over the months we were apart? Did you forget that you'll never be my first priority? The Navy comes first. Flying comes first." You feel like a marionette with all of its strings cut at his words. You can't believe this is Jake, your Jake, saying the words - the man you love, who claims to love you. You've made him your top priority since he's been injured. You haven't even seen Callie since the squadron got back. Jake has been your only focus. His words also send rage flowing through your veins.

Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) - Part 7: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

“Mama Georgie! Hi! Happy Thanksgiving!” You’re smiling from ear to ear as Jake kisses the side of your head. You grin as Jake’s mom tells you all about the Seresin family Thanksgiving spread. “Thanks for sending me your pie recipes, Mama Georgie! They went over a treat here. Twelve aviators and they ate every crumb. I made four pies!” You can’t even object when Jake snatches the phone from you to steal his mama for himself a little. “Hey, mama! I’m missing all of y’all today. It’s not Thanksgiving if I’m not home. But thankfully my gorgeous girl was here and gave me a slice of home so I don’t miss you too badly.” Heat rushes through your system, settling hot in your chest like it always does when Jake calls you his. It’s as you pull out the apple cider from the fridge which you’re planning on making on the stove that you hear Jake’s tone change. “Sir.” That one word is enough to capture your interest. Who in his family would Jake call sir? Not his brothers. His dad or his grandfather then.

Money, Money, Money : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

That's when you'd decided that turn-about was fair play. It's not an accident that the lounge chair you're on is right in view of the wheel. You start by sitting up and stretching, exaggerating the actions and how your tits jiggle with each movement. You can't read Jake's expressions from behind his mirrored lenses, but you know he's only looking at you. Which leads you to this very moment. You’ve been lying completely bare in the sun for close to an hour now. You turn over, reaching for the bottle of sunscreen and squirting some between your palms. The rich scent of coconut and hibiscus hangs heavy in the air as you warm the sticky lotion in your hot hands. You loll your head to the side, keeping direct eye contact with your husband as you cup your heavy breasts in your hands. You slather the lotion carelessly over your tits, pausing to tweak your nipples until your areolas are pebbled and your nipples are peaked even in the hot, heavy afternoon air. With more lotion in your hands, you let your hands trail teasingly lower. You trace abstract patterns across the meat of your thighs, keeping direct eye contact as you part your thighs teasingly. Each swipe draws your fingers even closer to the apex, your dripping core aching for more stimulation than you've gotten. That's the final straw for your husband, it seems.

No Pressure Tags: @desert-fern, @cassiemitchell, @dakotakazansky, @cherrycola27, @roosterforme and anyone else who wants to join in!

#misc #star writes #wip tag game #3 wip tag game #these are what i'm working on right now!#thanks for the tag Vee #I hope you all enjoy these excerpts #money money money #sometimes all you need (a getaway car)

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andtheyweresiblings · 2 years

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Hacia adelante seguiremos (moving forward, we will continue)

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal/Mirabel Madrigal Rating: T AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42391587

Summary: After the collapse of Casita, Mirabel decides to run away. Bruno decides to find her.

A/N: Hello! I wrote this one-shot as a little thank you to all of my Brumira followers. I'll be posting it to AO3 later today but I wanted you all to have a chance to see it first. Inspired by this ask I got a few months ago. It ended up being more in the platonic realm than the romantic realm, but if you have seen my thoughts on the topic, you know where I'd like to take this. Hope you enjoy!

The sun is well past its peak when Bruno finally finds Mirabel.

It has been one day since Casita crumbled on top of the Madrigal family and the candle went out. One day since Mirabel, after narrowly escaping the destruction of the family home, disappeared.

It has been the longest day of his life, and he almost cries in relief when he sees her form sitting near the river. They are a couple dozen kilometers away from the Encanto, and Bruno considers it a miracle at all that he found her.

With every hour that he had not found her and every step he wondered further from the Encanto, Bruno had known the chances of finding his niece were rapidly dwindling.

His knuckles are raw from knocking on the board of Casita that he had salvaged, and his throat is dry from the prayers and rhymes he has been reciting non-stop for the past two hours.

It is all worth it, however, because he has managed to find Mirabel.

Perhaps, more importantly, he has managed to find her before anyone else.

As he nears her, he can see more clearly that she is sitting on a rock by the river shore. Her toes are dipping into the water, and she is facing away from him, likely watching the clouds drift in the horizon.

He approaches carefully as if she is a wild animal he can spook.

At this point, she might be.

She did run away. He thinks to himself. For probably the hundredth time in the last day he thinks, there’s a good chance she doesn’t want to be around any of us, especially me.

He physically shakes his head to send the thoughts away and softly raps his knuckles against his head. No point in worrying about that now.

He pauses when he is a few steps away from her. She still has not made any indication that she has noticed him.

He knows he is not that quiet, which means she must be that out of it. Which also means that he needs to proceed with even more caution because the last thing he wants to do is literally spook his sobrina.

Deep breaths. Bruno is actively ignoring the wave of anxiety swelling up. You can do this, Brunito. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Another deep breath.

Okay, action.

“Ah, hey kid,” he is going for lighthearted and I’m-trying-to-let-you-know-I’m-here-without-scaring-you, but he is pretty sure he missed the mark completely.

Mirabel startles, causing her to lose her balance.

Bruno, cursing himself for doing the exact thing he was trying not to do, lunges towards her and grabs her by the arm, stopping her fall into the water.

She instinctively grips his ruana before fully acknowledging who it is.

Quickly, she looks up to her savior, and Bruno has a sense of déjà vu wash over him. It was only yesterday that they were in a similar position. Only this time, hopefully no rat will crawl out of his ruana and startle his niece further. Falling into the moving water below would be much worse than the fall he took the day before.

Things had seemed so complicated then. If only he could tell his past self that he had no idea what complicated meant. Maybe slap him for good measure while he’s at it.

“Tío Bruno,” her tone is somewhere between a statement and a question.

His niece’s words bring him back to the present, and Bruno quickly helps Mirabel shuffle back into her seat but finds he cannot move to sit down himself. It feels awkward, so he settles for standing over her. Very not awkwardly.

“Hah, sorry for scaring you there,” he immediately starts rambling in a desperate attempt to steamroll his mounting anxiety. He is distantly aware that his nails have started clawing into the opposite hand, “I was trying not to scare you, but no surprise there that I couldn’t do that—”

The words catch in his throat when he finally notices his niece’s tear-stained glasses and puffy eyes. She looks exhausted. She looks like the last thing she wants to do is talk to anyone, but she is watching him. Guarded yet attentive, waiting for him to continue.

“I, uh,” he starts again, uncertain how to proceed now that he has assessed the situation to require much more emotional tactfulness than he is capable of.

He tries anyway, “I’ve been looking for you.”

Pause.

“Good thing I brought the horse,” Bruno weakly jokes, gesturing at Sabado who was grazing near the tree Bruno tied him up to before approaching Mirabel, “I didn’t think you’d make it so far just on foot, aha.”

Another pause.

Just when Bruno is certain he is going to have to make another attempt of wholly contextually inappropriate humor, Mirabel lets out a long breath and adjusts her seat so she is facing the horizon again, “Yeah, well I was trying to get as far away as I could.”

Becoming less and less confident in his ability to do anything, Bruno takes a fumbling seat next to the rock she is sitting on, slipping into a cross-legged position.

At least now he has figured out he should shut up and let his sobrina steer the conversation.

“I didn’t really think anyone would find me at this point,” she says after a few moments. It’s a quiet statement—almost as if she was not entirely set on confessing it.

Bruno takes in her words and watches her begin to gently kick the water.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to find you after a while,” He admits almost just as softly.

They are quiet again.

Bruno settles on focusing on the warm breeze brushing his arms and listening to the sounds of the chattering jungle behind them, the moving water below, and the staccatos of Mirabel kicking at it.

He imagines that in most circumstances, this would be peaceful, but between his increasing worry for his niece and the very complicated feelings he is trying to ignore surrounding the miracle’s destruction, Bruno finds that he is incapable of enjoying that peace.

He is grateful when Mirabel finally speaks again, her words cutting through the uneasy silence they were keeping.

“I ruined everything.”

She is still looking at the horizon but a closer look at the girl reveals her rigid posture, fists curling tight over her skirt, and legs kicking the water with increasing force, as if she is doing all she can to not shatter the façade of calm she is trying to emulate.

“Mirabel,” he starts gently, only to be interrupted.

“I ruined everything,” she says with more force this time, tears spilling anew down her face. She pulls her legs up and close to her chest, and she begins to cry into her knees.

Her words are muffled through her skirt, but he can still hear them, “Casita, the candle, the miracle—they’re all gone.”

Any pretense of staying calm has left Mirabel completely. Her voice is raising with every word, and the tension in her body is coiling tighter and tighter.

“I destroyed them.” She cries out, her body shaking. She slams her fist onto the rock she is sitting on before clawing her hands into her legs as sobs rake through her body.

Something akin to how he felt ten years ago when he decided to leave everything behind in a gamble to protect a little girl—this little girl—floods Bruno. He finds himself moving onto the rock and sitting next to Mirabel. His arms wrap around her, and he pulls her close to him.

“Ay, Mija, no,” he tries saying soothingly.

He is still not sure he is doing it right. His words, although genuine, sound meaningless to his ears. His arms feel stiff and heavy around her. Everything about this feels foreign to him. He hasn’t held anyone in over a decade. How would he know if he’s doing it right?

But he decides to trust whatever instincts his body is acting on as he begins to gently rock her in his arms.

He can feel that she is still tense in his arms, but she allows her body to be rocked by him.

That’s probably a good sign, he thinks.

After a moment of his rocking, she moves to wrap her arms around his.

Her reciprocal touch sends of jolt of something straight to his head, and suddenly, he is a little dizzy. He wants to jump away. He wants to bolt, but he clamps down on the urge because right now he needs to focus on Mirabel. And Mirabel does not need her comforter to run at the first show of human contact.

So he continues rocking his niece and whispering soft reassurances until slowly, slowly, slowly he feels her body relaxing into his.

“You did not destroy anything,” he is surprised by how firm his words sound.

She makes a noise that sounds a lot like disagreement.

“It’s true; you didn’t,” he insists.

“But what about your vision?” her voice is hoarse.

“What about my vision?”

“The cracks,” she says exasperated, “they were spreading around me. And then I yelled at Abuela, and the house falls—seems like it’s because of me.”

“You know that’s not true." For all his uncertainty surrounding the vision before, he is convinced of this, "You said it yourself. It was her fault that the miracle was dying. Not yours.”

Mirabel adjusts herself so she can angle her head at his, “You heard that?”

He briefly thinks back to what had occurred between Mirabel and his mother the day before. He thinks about this young woman, no, this girl—his sobrina—standing up to his mother and defending herself and her sisters. She had shown more courage than he could have ever dreamed to summon, and she is a fraction of his age.

Not only that. She had defended him—him—when only just earlier that day he had abandoned her to save the family on her own because he was too afraid to face his mother. He stayed hidden in the walls just as he had always done and watched helplessly as his mother attacked what he was certain were every single one of Mirabel’s insecurities in a desperate attempt to break her into submission.

It was cowardly and shameful. He was cowardly and shameful. And yet his niece stood by him, defending him even while he could not extend the same favor to her.

He finds himself gripping her a little tighter in his embrace, “Every word.”

Mirabel tenses. If it is because of his words or his movements, Bruno does not know.

“Then you know the terrible things I said to Abuela.”

Ah, so that’s what it is.

“No, Mija,” the older man says, and he feels himself tightening around her further, no doubt crushing the younger woman in his embrace, but he can’t help it. He needs her to know. He needs her to listen. He needs her to believe him.

“I heard the terrible things she said to you. I watched her words destroy Casita and the candle. Not yours.”

“Words that she wouldn’t have said if I hadn’t been trying so hard to save the miracle.”

She begins to twist out of his embrace to face him properly, “I should have left things alone. Things were fine for everyone before. But no,” she laughs bitterly, “no, I wanted to actually do something for this family for once. And look where that got us.”

There is fear in her eyes now. Like she is certain he has not thought of that, and now that she has brought it up, he is going to agree with her.

Instead, he tentatively grabs her hand, much like she did to him the day before, “Mirabel, you saw the cracks. The miracle was already dying. Just because you noticed it before the others doesn’t mean it was your fault.”

She looks down, tears rolling down her face again. She tries to tug her hand away.

She doesn’t believe him.

So he lets his grip tighten and his words soften, “Mija, please look at me.”

He waits patiently until she does.

“I don’t think you made this bad thing happen.”

He knows that she must have recognized her own words in his because she surges forward to hug him tightly. She is fully sobbing into his shoulder, and he knows what she is thinking. She probably still doesn’t believe him, but his faith in her is enough. Or at least he hopes it is. Because it was not that long ago that he was thinking the same thing about her faith in him.

He hugs her back, bringing her closer to him. He pets her hair gently and presses light kisses onto her head. It all still feels incredibly foreign to him, but for her sake, he can try to be what she needs.

He is not sure how long they stay in that position, but the sun has fully set by the time Mirabel moves away from him, her tears long dried out.

She is still clutching onto the end of his ruana, as if she is afraid to let it go.

“So what now?” She asks quietly, before looking at him. “Are you going to take me back there?”

Bruno’s stomach twists at the thought of taking Mirabel back. He had not yet considered the fact that finding her meant that he would have to also reveal himself for the family.

Trying not to let his own dread take center stage, he tries to subtly knock on his head to will those thoughts away. Because this is not about him. It is about Mirabel. Mirabel and what she needs, and if she needs to go home, he will take her home.

“Well, that’s entirely up to you, kid.”

Her eyes widen. He realizes she is surprised by this and that maybe she was not expecting to have a choice once a Madrigal found her.

“What?”

“Well, yeah,” he starts again, “it’s up to you.”

Her eyes narrow and her eyebrows come together, “But then why did you look for me if you weren’t planning on bringing me back?”

Now it is Bruno’s turn to be surprised, “Geez, kid. I don’t know. Because you took off into a literal jungle, and I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“Plus,” he gestures at Sabado, the almost-forgotten horse, tied to the tree several meters away from them, “I figured you didn’t actually have the time to get ready to just take off like that. So I, uh, brought supplies for you just in case you didn’t want to go back.”

Mirabel looks from him to Sabado back to him, an even more bewildered expression on her face, “So you went looking for me to make sure I had the supplies to run away more effectively?”

He squeezes his hands together three times in rapid succession, wishing he had not left the piece of wood with the horse. He settles with tugging on a lock of his hair a few times, “Look, I may have had my fair share of plans to run away when I was younger. I guess I was thinking I’d appreciate the help if I ever followed through on one of those plans.”

He feels his hand moving on to the hairs on his right arm, but he cannot stop it, “I guess I didn’t think about what it would look like. Me bringing you things to run away. I just wanted to give you fair choices. Honest, kid.”

Mirabel places her hand over his, stopping his movements, “Thank you, Tío.”

Then a little quieter, “I think I’m lucky that you found me first.”

He feels his face melting into a smile, “Yeah? Well, good.”

He waits a beat, “So what do you wanna do, kid?”

She looks back to the horse and then over to the tops of the split mountain marking the Encanto. They are just barely visible from where Mirabel and Bruno are sitting.

“La verdad, I don’t want to go back. I don’t think I can. Not for a while, at least.”

He nods slowly; the feeling of dread of facing the family is draining. This is what he had been expecting.

“Well, I stole el Señor Sabado just for you,” he chuckles nervously, but it feels less out of place now. “He’s carrying a few days’ worth of supplies. You should be able to find a town well before that.”

“We.”

“What?” He turns to her confused.

“We should be able to find a town,” she says firmly. “You’re coming with me, right?”

He is still not sure he heard her correctly, “You want me to go with you?”

“Well, I was planning to find somewhere to start all over before you found me, but,” she tilts her head, suddenly looking unsure of herself, “don’t you think it would be a lot easier for both of us if we stuck together?”

Something warm washes over his heart, “Yes, Mija, I think it would.”

“It’s settled then.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

Bruno knows nothing is really settled at all. There is still so much for them to figure out, like where are they going to find shelter for the quickly descending night?

But for the first time this evening, Mirabel smiles at him. Sure, there are still traces of the hurt and guilt in her eyes that, if she is anything like Bruno, she will certainly be feeling for some time, but her smile is genuine and hopeful.

He realizes he will do anything to keep her smiling.

With any luck, that will be enough.

#mirabruno #brumira #madrigalcest #mirabel x bruno #bruno x mirabel #family weirdos #family weirdos fics #atws #brunomira #brunobel #c

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sweetiegirlsue · 1 year

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diary entry 1 (10/07/23)

i was having the worst week, like the absolute worst week - mentally, physically, emotionally, work-wise. all of it. i felt alone, and hated it, but i also wanted to be alone bc i didn't want to see anyone, or moreover, anyone see me. to the point where i was wondering if i needed to be committed... like that bad. i was wondering why, and i thought maybe it was bc i saw my abuser last week (pure happenstance - that's a story in-and-of itself) for the first time in coming up on a year now, haven't even spoke to him since may. i thought he no longer lived here so i had this false sense of safety but i'll get more into that at a later date. not sure i'm ready to unpack that that trauma, but when i am.... buckle in.

anyways: felt like shit, ate like shit, didn't want to do shit. i was mean to the people i loved and i hated it but i didn't care to change? i was ugly. actually physically as well lol i didn't even care to get ready-ready except for one day out of the entire week. all of this to say... i thought it was because of him and i was losing my mind thinking i was like, broken for real. turns out i was freaking pms-ing. LMAO like seriously why does the bitchy PMS trope get more and more real with age (yes i am 26 yes i am decrepit).

but i feel like that was kind of a symptom of what i've been struggling with lately bc i'm realizing i've completely lost my sense of self. that being said, i'm actively on a journey to self discovery and strengthening my relationship with God. i'm trying to be more present, to stop my thoughts (especially negative ones) in their tracks (something i learned in "get out of your head" by jennie allen). its honestly helping at least a bit, which is what she says in the book - catching even just one negative thought, acknowledging where its coming from then giving it over to God, will change the trajectory of every other thought.

along with that, i'm keeping my social media usage to a record minimum - literally less than an hour a day across all platforms, which has also been very healing. i know its corny to talk about and it really does show my age, but i really feel like we do not need to be consuming the shit that is spoon-fed to us on a daily basis, constantly, on all these platforms. when i fully realized a lot of my thoughts were how i could tweet about something, or make a story about something, or an instagram post. like what the fuck? and for what? it's so nice being able to unplug and reframe my thinking. i've been doing good and i'm liking the breath of fresh air so far.

speaking of fresh air, what made me finally take the time to sit down and journal my thoughts (which is truly just a stream of consciousness) is when i realized what i'm doing at the current moment. i'm sitting on my couch with my patio door open welcoming the morning sun and autumn breeze, drinking coffee and watching netflix all cozy on a cool, fall morning. i'm texting a boy that i used to "date" in middle school and have had a few flings with throughout the years since.

back in middle school i remember around this time of year, sitting on the couch while my parents were at work and my brother was at a friends, watching netflix (and/or playing wii fit) and drinking coffee while texting specifically this boy. it's like i'm taken back to that exact time (except this time i'm indulging in a few joints lol). my inner child is feeling healed and this is the most at peace i've felt in a long time. i usually don't allow myself to rest, i guess i fell as though i don't deserve to (?), so it's nice feeling like i'm allowed to have this time to myself. s/o sex education season 4 <3

in conclusion, this is me documenting the jump start to my healing journey. my focus right now is catching negative thoughts and letting them go, and just being present in the real world. let this be your reminder to pause and actually smell the roses. like literally bend down, put the damn flower to your nose, and smell it when you see one. i'm talking to both me and you on that one.

i hope this is the first of many more diary entries, which i will sign off with the verse OTD:

show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. (Psalm 25:4-5)

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dragon-riding · 3 years

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Congratulations for 100 followers ♥️

May i have an interaction with Leona (saw someone requested this & it's very AMAZING) with s/o who wears a bunny outfit? Umm should i write the dialogue or not?? I'll just add it in case your need it 😉

—How do you like my outfit, Leona-sama? I want to reward you for being not too lazy, lately you've been very active especially on your Magift Practice. As usual you're amazing on Magift, Leona-sama~

anything posted and written on this blog is fictional and should not be recreated and/or idolized in real life

kinks included: bunny outfit, breeding, degradation

“Fuck,” Leona pants out, only halfway in your warm, warm pussy. Your walls twitch and spasm, gushing another wave of slick around him. The wet sounds of his cock slapping against your ass, the pretty moans falling from your lips and you spreading your legs wider for him, offering yourself to him on a platter, served with an extra side of desperate sluttiness— it’s all filthy. Deliciously filthy.

He belatedly replies to your question. “Yea, yea, outfit’s great. Shit, you’re so fucking easy. All I did was play a few games and you’re giving yourself to me. Are you an idiot? You gonna give yourself to the first man who gives you some flowers? Hah! That’ll never happen. You’re mine.”

He’s defiled you, his poor sweet bunny girl that happened to drop at his feet.

“Fuck,” he repeats, laughing when your cute tail shakes with your ass. You’re impatient for his cock and his cum, a slut for it. It’s a wonder how he hasn’t completely ripped your outfit to pieces. “So fuckin’ impatient. You think you can tell me what to do? Pathetic bunny— satisfy my dick first before you go shaking your ass,” he slaps your ass, the tight leather stretching over your ass unable to keep it from jiggling.

“L- Leona, please!”, you squeal, bunny ears flopping, hanging on for dear life on your head. You tug on them, a habit that only made you seem like a real bunny girl. It had Leona’s dick throbbing to crudely pound into you until you were filled with his seed, an instinctive need to completely dominate his weaker other half. “N- Need more-”

Leona pushes your head into the pillows, muffling the rest of your words. “I heard ya loud and clear, bunny. Quit whining and start working your pussy. Gonna breed you till you’re fucking begging.”

“W- Wa-”

“Bunnies love that, yea?”, he licks his lips, pulling his cock out to the tip, “Getting bred over and over again. It’s your fault for wearing that stupid outfit so don’t blame me. Stupid girl,” he thrusts back in.

No longer pausing to think, Leona fucks you with only one thought in mind— to fill you up so much that it’s impossible you aren’t thoroughly bred by the end of it. “Fuck, my bunny’s gonna listen to me and take all my seed, yea? Gonna sit on my dick till you’re all full and bred and be a good mate- shit- don’t even need to bother leaving this room anymore, bunny.”

What have I done?, you think as another scream left you, as your embarrassing moans rang loud in your ears and Leona dumps his cum into your cunt, growling insults and praise and more insults mixed into one.

You don’t think bunny will have the same meaning for you anymore after Leona is done with you.

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comfortbucky · 3 years

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hey hey! can u do some fluffy bucky about having to share a hotel room w u and there’s only one bed!!!! and he’s trying to be respectful n stuff but man does he have the fattest crush on u! thank u <333

HEY HEY YES OMFGGG THE ONE BED TROPE (ur mind😌🤝)

i’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE I DIDN’T EXPECT IT TO COME SO SOON

𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗱, 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗼𝘁𝘀 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚

pairing: bucky x fem!avenger!reader

tags: enemies(?) to lovers BABYYYY, angst, fluff

A/N: i almost always write about tfatws!bucky in mind but let me try and branch out by writing about avenger!bucky hehe

i hope u enjoy🥺💗i absolutely loved this prompt and loved writing this!!!! (it is almost 4am for me as i am posting this :) i’m insane :))

this oneshot will not be following the canon timeline!

word count: 2k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

“Stick to the plan, Y/N.” Steve’s voice came through over the intercom. She rolled her eyes at his warning. He always seemed to be extra cautious with her, making her feel like an unimportant member of the team, and this mission was no different.

“I got this,” she said, completely ignoring his request and charging headfirst at the enemy. Her brash decision resulted in her receiving a heavy beat down, ending up with a split lip and fractured ribs.

Needless to say, Steve was pissed. He and Y/N developed a close friendship over the years, during his search for Bucky. She was oftentimes the one who would stay up all night with him, looking for any trace of Bucky’s existence online. She’d become one of the closest people in his life, which is exactly why he was upset with her, endangering her own life.

After the mission, he confronted her at the base camp.

“You could’ve gotten killed!”

“But I didn’t,” she snapped back. “And the mission was a success anyways, so I don’t get why you’re so mad right now.”

Steve closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“It’s reckless behavior like this that’s eventually going to get you killed, Y/N.”

Bucky walked into the room and immediately regretted his decision as soon as he laid his eyes on Y/N. He’d come to foster an animosity towards her, after seeing her close friendship with Steve. After Bucky joined the Avengers, he noticed how much time they spent together, and jealousy started to fester within him. Steve was the only person he felt comfortable being around in the tower and she constantly took him away from Bucky. Everyone else seemed to have an aversion to him, or so he assumed. He never gave anyone the chance to get to know him, locking himself up in his room most hours of the day. Bucky didn’t think anyone would want to get to know an ex-assassin, especially one that killed the Tony Stark’s parents. She was the one thing that kept Steve away from him and he despised it. So Bucky did what he did best and avoided any sort of interaction with her.

Steve looked at Bucky and suddenly, an idea popped in his head. He had noticed how closed-off Bucky had been since joining the Avengers and refused to let Y/N be alone, worried that she might make another brazen decision. He hatched a plan to kill 2 birds with 1 stone.

“Bucky,” Steve said, making his way over to him. “You and Y/N will be assigned to the same room tonight.”

Bucky choked on his own spit in response and Y/N began to protest.

“You’re not serious, right?” Steve turned to face her with a stern expression.

“You’re not giving me any reason to trust you to be alone.” She let out a defeated sigh and crossed her arms across her chest.

“Why me?” Bucky asked, trying to figure out how he ended up in this situation.

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Because I trust you, Buck. I need you to do this for me.”

Bucky could see the desperation in Steve’s eyes and reluctantly nodded.

Steve was able to obtain another key card to the hotel room that Y/N was assigned to for the mission. He forgot to take into account the logistics of the sleeping arrangements, leaving Bucky to find a single bed as he entered Y/N’s room.

Bucky froze, his right hand on the door handle, keeping it open, his left hand by his side, holding his duffel bag. He racked his brain, trying to figure out what to do, when Y/N’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Relax,” she started, motioning for him to come inside. “I’ll sleep on the floor, alright?”

Y/N knew that Bucky didn’t like her, despite Steve trying to convince her otherwise. It hurt her feelings a bit, especially after she’d learned so much about him through both Steve’s stories and the time she spent tracking him down. He was such an important person to Steve, her close friend, and Bucky hated her. At first, she figured he was shy and wasn’t ready to open up to anyone else, especially after all the trauma he endured. But she realized he actively disliked her over time, with Bucky always leaving the room when she entered or ignoring her offers to hang out with her and Steve. Eventually, she gave up on reaching out to Bucky, as she only seemed to upset him further, no matter what she did. She figured it was for the best.

Bucky stepped into the room and shook his head.

“Bed’s too soft for me anyways, I’ll take the floor,” he grumbled.

Y/N shrugged in response, knowing that Bucky would be too stubborn to try and argue against. She turned around and picked up the phone, calling the front desk to ask for extra blankets and pillows. When she hung up the phone, she turned back to Bucky to see him nod in thanks.

The rest of the night was silent, as they both prepared for bed, taking turns going into the bathroom to wash up and change. While Y/N was in the bathroom, Bucky arranged the extra blankets and pillows into a makeshift bed on the ground, something that he’d done countless times before. Y/N exited the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt that covered her shorts, and placed her toiletries bag in one of the hotel dresser drawers.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Bucky grunted in response, grabbing some clothes and a bag headed for the bathroom.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he stated, just before shutting the door behind him. Y/N scoffed at his comment, gently climbing into bed, in an attempt to not further injure her ribs. She winced as she tried to get into a comfortable position before settling to sleep on the side of her unaffected ribs.

Bucky emerged from the bathroom to see Y/N lying on her left side, her back towards him. He assumed that she had already fallen asleep and quietly crawled into his makeshift bed.

Approximately 10 minutes had passed, when he heard her sniffling. At first, he thought the noise was coming from outside the window, but he traced it back to her. He remained lying on his back for a moment, deciding whether or not to say something. Bucky sighed before speaking.

“You okay?” Y/N immediately stiffened upon hearing Bucky’s voice. She was hoping that he wouldn’t hear her crying, despite his super soldier hearing abilities.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied back, her voice wavering as she spoke. Y/N hated how weak and pathetic she sounded in that moment. Her fractured ribs made it hard for her to breathe and the adrenaline, that was previously shielding her from the pain, had faded, leaving her to lie there in agony. On top of that, she also felt that this mission solidified her belief that Steve had little faith in her ability to be an Avenger. The last thing she wanted to do right now, was to confess her insecurities to Bucky.

Bucky’s attitude softened, hearing Y/N’s voice crack when she spoke. He knew she’d gotten hurt due to her own, dumb, decision during the mission. Bucky quietly pulled his blankets off and stood up, leaving the room without saying another word. As soon as the door shut, Y/N burst into tears. Bucky did exactly as he’d done in the past many times before, leave. She wasn’t sure why this time upset her more than the rest. Probably because she knew that he was aware of her crying and he’d still chosen to abandon her completely.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, causing her to stop crying. Y/N listened to Bucky’s footsteps growing closer, and felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat on the edge she was facing towards. She peered over the blanket she was covering her face with, to see Bucky facing her, holding a bag of ice, wrapped in a towel. Bucky’s heart sank at the sight of her glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks in the moonlight.

“For your ribs,” he spoke softly, gesturing to the ice bag in his hands.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Y/N took the bag from him, attempting to slowly sit up. She closed her eyes as she grimaced, and suddenly felt a hand on her back, helping her up. Her eyes opened to reveal Bucky, with a soft smile on his lips. She silently thanked him again, placing the ice bag on the right side of her ribcage.

“Thought you hated me,” she mumbled, keeping her gaze down on her lap. He furrowed his brows, keeping his eyes on her.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Well, you definitely don’t like me.”

Bucky paused at her comment, thinking about his next words, before responding.

“I don’t like that you take up all of Steve’s free time,” he grumbled, causing Y/N to quickly look up at Bucky, his eyes averting her gaze. Her face fell, immediately realizing why Bucky had treated her so coldly all this time. He just missed his friend.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her in response. “I didn’t realize, I’m sorry.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t expecting her to be so kind and understanding, even coming up with multiple points to argue back at her. He realized then that he didn’t know her at all, but that he wanted to now. In an instant, she became an entirely different person. He studied her eyes and wondered if they had always sparkled like that, if her cheeks were naturally rosy, or if her lips had always been so pink and plump.

His expression softened and he cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he muttered, tearing himself away from her gaze to look down at his lap. After a moment of silence, Bucky stood up to return back to the floor.

“Stay.” The words left Y/N’s mouth before she had time to process them. Bucky froze and turned to face her. “I mean, if you want to, of course. Just figured the floor must be super uncomfortable for you.” Y/N felt a blush creep up onto her cheeks and kicked herself mentally. She looked down at her hands, regretting the words she spoke, before feeling the bed dip again. She looked up to see Bucky. He smiled and she almost melted at the sight.

She shifted over, putting the ice bag on the nightstand, as Bucky crawled into bed next to her. The two rested on their backs, both staring at the ceiling in silence. Bucky remained at a respectful distance away, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Y/N turned on her left side, her good side, to face him.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

Bucky turned on his side to face her before responding.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

A strand of her hair had fallen in front of her face and Bucky, instinctively, reached out a hand to tuck it behind her ear. Immediately, he regretted it, about to pull his hand back when Y/N took her hand and placed it on top of his, guiding it to rest on her cheek. He cupped her face in his hand and she leaned into his embrace. Bucky felt his heart rate increase as she moved her body closer to his, wrapping the arm she used to hold his hand on her face, across his side. He shifted towards her as well, wrapping his arm around her body, bringing her closer to him.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, nervous that he might have somehow misinterpreted the situation. He hadn’t been with a woman in such an intimate way in years and had no idea what he was doing. Y/N looked up at him and nodded, before snuggling her face into his chest and Bucky felt a wave of calm wash over him.

“Can you stay here tonight?” Y/N mumbled, her face pressed into his chest. He chuckled at the vibrations from her voice and kissed her temple, smoothing her hair back.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to, honey.”

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h2bakugou · 3 years

Text

『 𝗵𝟮𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 』 ✦ 𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗗𝗡𝗜

𝐈𝐕. 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗱 ✦ 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀-𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ; between you and izuku’s relationship, sex was always something to touch on later, both literally and figuratively. so when you go to your closest guy friends seeking advice on how to please your boyfriend, they give you much more of hands on lesson than you had expected.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; katsuki bakugou, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; 18+, smut, swearing, porn with plot/little plot, cheating, dub-con, virgin!reader, virginity stealing, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, cum play, spit play, spanking, fingering, bukkake, orgy, split roasting, biting, mentions of porn, partial revenge sex, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, degradation, masturbation, double penetration, recording

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ; this came to me on a whim, i really needed to just get this out of my head. i’ve been in a weird headspace and this prompt just kinda came up and stuck with me. apologies for any spelling/writing errors, this piece was not proofread!!

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 6.7k

✦ 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁 ✦

Wanting to be the perfect girlfriend for your ever so lovely boyfriend was becoming more of a challenge. Izuku was an angel, and heaven-sent. He was as sweet as he could be. And you loved him for all that he did for you.

Helping you study for your college classes, taking you on cute picnic dates to watch the sunset.

You were lucky to have a guy like him. But having a perfect guy like him meant you could also lose him. And you didn’t want that at all.

The two of you had never dabbled much into sex and all of its activities. There was the time you’d grinded against his lap, or made out while he jerked off under you, but you’d never done anything with him, just like he’d never done anything with you.

You were both nervous, but you wanted your first time together to be something special. Something you could both cherish. You wanted it to be perfect for him.

Since porn was the last place you wanted to take advice from, you swallowed your nerves and bit the bullet, asking your best group of guy friends if you could hang out at their flat for a bit.

And of course, in the group chat, you were all in together, they welcomed you over with open arms.

You settled on their couch instantly recognizing the neutral grey walls as your second home when you weren’t pacing around your own flat.

“So what’s up girlie?” Kaminari asks, already laying his head in your lap like usual.

“I have a really big favor to ask you all.” You stare worryingly at the floor, just past Kaminari’s head.

“What is it? You know we’re here to help.” Kirishima chimes in, honestly expecting some bad news.

“Don’t tell me that shithead Deku’s causing problems.” Bakugou grunts from his spot beside you on the couch.

“No, no. It does have to deal with Deku, but er...” You pause, swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat before spitting it out.

“We keep having these sexual moments, and I just wanna please him but I don’t know where to start so I thought I would ask you guys what feels good for men.” You suddenly feel as if the world has caved in, your frame much smaller than anyone else’s in the room.

As if a lightbulb had flicked on simultaneously in the male’s heads, they all gathered around you.

“Well, I know for a start, I like it when they look at me when they blow me. Makes me feel in control.” Kaminari grins.

“Yeah it’s the only time you’re in control.” Sero jokes. Kaminari slaps the ravenette and rolls off of your lap, sitting up beside you.

“So you want to have sex with Izuku finally?” Kirishima asks. You nod sheepishly, still embarrassed to be so open about your sex life, or lack of one, with some of your best friends.

“Have you ever had sex before?” Bakugou asks bluntly. Your silence speaks volumes as the four men around you all seem to get the same idea yet again.

“We can give you some tips!” Kirishima’s words aren’t supposed to have a double meaning, but in a matter of seconds, Bakugou’s standing right in front of you, gazing down at you with lust-filled eyes.

“Take my belt off.” He speaks clearly.

“W-wait you guys are just supposed to teach me-”

“We are. Hands-on teaching seems to show the most progress does it not?” Kaminari butts in, his hands creeping up on your sides, dipping under your arms to undo the buttons on your blouse.

“We’re gonna help you understand what feels good for us! We can teach you better this way, so pay close attention.” Sero stood behind Bakugou, slinging his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder.

“If this is gonna help, I guess it won’t be too bad.” You mumble, your timid hands reaching for Bakugou’s belt.

“Look at me.” Bakugou’s voice ushers for your gaze. Your eyes travel up his clothed chest to his crimson eyes.

“Good girl.” Bakugou grinned, watching as your eyes widened.

“Bet stupid Deku doesn’t praise you.” Bakugou huffs. Your hands eventually undo his belt and now you stare at his abdomen. Bakugou tugs his shirt off over his head, revealing his toned chest.

You’re in awe.

“Izuku doesn’t look like that.” You think out loud, figuratively drooling over your best friend. Bakugou feels a strong sense of pride as he glances at Kaminari, who’s finally able to tug your shirt off and reveal those pretty tits he’s beat his dick to at night.

Photos of you in swimsuits, or teasing clips you’d posted to your instagram stories late at night in a bra or some sort of revealing top while you hung out with your girlfriends, Denki kept them all in a hidden folder and let out embarrassing moans when his hand jerked his cock at them.

“So pretty.” Kaminari mumbles, biting your shoulder as he unclamps your bra, finally seeing them in person, unobscured.

“Deku’s so fucking lucky.” Kaminari hisses, grabbing them roughly, kneading them in his hands harshly.

You whine, whether in pain or pleasure is unsure, the feeling of Kaminari’s hands kneading your tits like their just dough is making your cunt throb. And it suddenly feels so much hotter in the room when your eyes widen at the size of Kaminari’s bulge as you glance over at him.

“Does he touch you like this?” Kaminari whispers, his fingers twisting your nipples, tugging them between his thumb and forefinger as the rest of his hand continues to cup and massage your breasts.

“N-No. He’s never touched me.” You whine, your head hanging on your shoulders, embarrassed to be so turned on by this. This was wrong-

“Get my cock out. It’s time for you to learn how to suck someone off.” Bakugou places his hand on the back of your head and yanks your hair back, forcing you to look at him.

“Go on, or you won’t like when I do it myself. I’ll use your throat like a fleshlight.” Bakugou’s voice drops, watching as your hands find their way back to his pants.

“How come he gets to get blown first?” Kirishima mumbled to Sero, the pair gradually undoing their own pants, slowly palming over their clothed erections.

“Because I hate Deku the most.” Bakugou grunts.

“Oh fuck.” You curse, staring at Bakugou’s cock in awe.

“I’ve never seen one in person before...” You babble, completely shocked by the pure length and girth of the cock that’s twitching in front of you. Bright pink cockhead, with a prominent vein on the underside, he’s fucking huge. And for a second you wonder if you can even open your mouth wide enough to take even the head of him in your mouth.

But you get your answer soon enough.

“So innocent.” Sero’s ashamedly turned on by your innocence. The way you stared at Bakugou’s cock like it was the only thing in the room was enough to make him excited. He wanted to steal every moment from you. He wanted to ruin you.

“Open your mouth. Tongue out.” Bakugou instructs. You do as you say and you can see Bakugou visibly tense. His shoulders relax as he grips the base of his cock and slaps the head of it on your tongue.

“Rule number one. No teeth. Ever.” Bakugou makes this rule very evident as he taps his dick against your tongue.

“If it’s too much, tap me three times.” Bakugou says in a slightly gentler tone, almost as if he knew you were going to need to tap out.

“Well, it’s not gonna suck itself.” Bakugou huffs, smirking down at you. You try to think straight but nothing’s working. You search in the dirtiest parts of your brain, trying to remember all the magazines you’d seen telling you how to suck a guy to make him cum, but as you took Bakugou’s cock into your mouth, just past the tip, your jaw was already starting to ache.

Kaminari’s hands had traveled down to your shorts, teasing your bare skin as he slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

“Holy fuck.” Bakugou murmured, glancing back at Kirishima and Sero, who had now whipped their cocks out, stroking them while their pants sat pooled around their ankles.

“Is she good?” Sero asks, glancing over Bakugou to look down at you. You were clearly struggling, your hands resting in your lap awkwardly, not sure of where or what to do with them.

“Here, get on your knees down here.” Bakugou pulls his cock from your past your lips with a small ‘pop’ sound, his strong arms tugging you down off the couch, leaving Kaminari alone up there.

He quickly hops down too, sitting down behind you, taking the chance to play with your tits some more, biting and kissing your neck and shoulder.

Sero and Kirishima stand on opposite sides, now trapping you between all four males, one on each side of you.

You gaze at Sero’s cock. It was long, and lean, a significant curve set his apart from Bakugou’s. It was a bit thinner but still looked like it could do some serious damage.

Kirishima, on the other hand, seemed to outweigh them both. His cock was fat and hung along with the biggest balls you’ve ever seen-note you’ve seen three pairs so far.

It was thick, long, and veiny. And you were scared. If you could barely fit Bakugou’s in your mouth, you knew for a fact his wouldn’t fit at all.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t ‘cha?” Kirishima teased as your hands daintily reached up to stroke Sero and Kirishima’s cocks. Something you’d seen in a porno once, where a girl was in a position similar to yours.

“Where’d you learn that one?” Kaminari teases, licking your shoulder.

“P-porn.” You stutter out.

“Oh.” Sero laughs.

“What a dirty girl you are.” Kirishima’s hips thrust forward, allowing your hand to complete the first stroke from the tip to the base.

You lean forward and take Bakugou’s cock back into your mouth, staring up at him as he grunts. His hands find their way to your hair, forcing you to take his length.

So much for going in slow and easy.

You’re sure you see the heavens for a moment. Your vision blurs with tears as Bakugou’s cock hits the back of your throat. Your hands stop moving on Sero and Kirishima’s cocks as you take a moment to adjust.

You mewl, your voice reverberating against Bakugou’s cock, the vibrations sending chills down his spine. He takes control, using your mouth as his own personal fucktoy.

And you were completely helpless. Besides the tears on your lashes and the ache in your jaw, your hands returned to jerking off the men beside you, your eyes still set on staring up at Bakugou as he smirked pridefully at you.

And then you felt it. Kaminari’s hands had slid down into your panties, his fingers just barely ghosted over your clit before you forced yourself down to the base of Bakugou’s cock, your hips jerking from the sensation alone.

“Woah there.” Kaminari pulled his hands out, giggling.

“Someone’s never felt that before.” He teases. You tap Bakugou’s leg three times and he pulls out, almost disappointed.

“Are you alright?”

“Does it feel good to be touched down there?” You ask your hands reaching to remove your shorts.

“I think you’re talking to the wrong crowd for that.” Kirishima jokes.

“Dumbass. Of course, it feels good. Don’t tell me you’ve never-”

“No! No! I’ve tried I could just never, make myself...”

“Oh my god.” Kirishima and Sero give each other an almost pitiful stare.

“And Deku’s never pushed sex so I always thought something was wrong with me. What if I can’t cum? How can I please him if I can’t-”

“Hey. Why don’t we help you out? Clearly touching you there evoked some sort of reaction, why don’t you relax and let me see if I can work something out of you.” Kaminari offers, rubbing your sides. You nod shyly.

Spreading your legs similarly, your movements are slow and timid as if you're scared to make a wrong move. Kaminari glances up to the others as they quickly picked up, Bakugou kneeling down to help remove your shorts and panties, which had a small damp spot, one Bakugou didn’t miss.

“You’re already soaking your panties. You’re enjoying this.” Bakugou retorted, staring in awe of your glistening cunt, one his childhood best friend had claimed before him.

It ate away at Bakugou daily. Seeing the two of you walk to classes together, or whenever you’d post snaps of you laying on his chest after he fell asleep during a movie night.

Or the way he’d call you baby in front of all your friends. It pissed Bakugou off. He was in love with you.

But oh was Bakugou going to take this chance by its reigns. He was going to show you exactly what you were missing being with that stupid nerd.

And even more so. Bakugou was going to take your virginity away from you, and away from the guy who you clearly thought was going to.

“Damn Deku really is lucky.” Sero whispered, his eyes locked tight onto your dripping cunt. It was beautiful. Sero had his fair share of one-night stands, and hookups, but he’d never seen one that looked like yours. God, it was captivating. He wanted to feel your tight, plush walls hugging his cock as he fucked into you from behind.

And then there was Kirishima, who stared in awe as well. His eyes wandered your naked body and wondered if you were truly the same girl going out with Deku.

Part of you being in a standing relationship was so enticing. Kirishima was nothing short of respectful, but wanting to destroy any sort of expectations you had for your first time with Deku sent his brain and cock into overdrive.

And there you were, legs sprawled out, cunt dripping your essence onto the soft carpeted floors, your back pressed into Denki's chest as his fingers reached down and spread your pussy apart.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt like you were going to implode. Your senses were heightened, and the slightest touch between your thighs made you squirm. Denki chuckled as the other males salivated over you, picking their jaws off the floor was the next step.

"Go on, why don't you find her clit." Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest with an evil grin.

"Oh shut the fuck up." Kaminari's fingers moved from the lips of your cunt to the hardened bud, and with one tiny little touch, you let out an embarrassing whine. Denki grinned as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion over your clit, watching how you quickly clamped your legs together.

"Awe no, let them see just how good I am with my fingers." Kaminari cooed in your ear, using one hand to pry your legs back open, Sero bending down and grabbing the other, forcing them apart. You whined in pleasure as his fingers worked wonders against your clit, your back arching against his chest.

"Denki!" You cried out, feeling something building up inside of you. Kaminari grinned but Bakugou wasn't having it.

"Oi, enough. I wanna cum down her throat." Bakugou grunted, yanking you up to your feet from your forearm.

"Sit on his face and suck my cock, slut." Bakugou spat, your eyes widening. You nodded, glancing back at Kaminari who was already moving for you to do so. You were nervous, feeling awful for sitting on his face, but you didn't regret a thing when you felt Kaminari's tongue swipe through your folds.

The cold steel of his tongue piercing made you shiver as his tongue flicked across your clit making you whine.

"'m ready." You choked out, glancing at Bakugou.

"Us first." Sero stepped in, gripping the base of his cock, tapping it against your lips, similarly to how Bakugou had done. Kirishima stepped up and nudged his cockhead against Sero's, the two unphased by it.

"I-I can't take both-"

"So take turns." Bakugou said bluntly. You glanced up at Sero and Kirishima, worryingly trying to take Kirishima's cock into your mouth first. You made it just barely past the tip of his fat cock, before you realized your attempt was futile. You brought a hand up to help, stroking the base of his cock while your mouth worked past the tip. Your free hand returned to jerk Sero off, your ego racing as you heard his own grunts of pleasure.

"She's a quick learner." Kirishima grins, his hand resting on your head as he guides you gently to take more of his cock into your mouth. Kirishima is saddened when you stop and switch to try and do the same for Sero.

Halfway through the transition, Kaminari's tongue prods through your entrance, making you stop. Your shoulders tense up and you freeze, quickly hunching over, grinding your cunt against Kaminari's mouth, the tips of his nose brushing against your clit.

"Fuck!" You cry, feeling yourself lose control. Your mind turns white for a moment, and all the pleasure begins to hurt as you want to leap off of Kaminari's tongue. But his strong arms wrapped around your thighs holding you in place stop you from doing so.

"It-it hurts! Please." You pant, your lips parted as you mewl against his face.

"He fucking did it. He made her cum." Sero groaned. Your head shot up, staring at the ravenette.

"T-that was-"

"A female orgasm? Yeah. Felt weird and tingly, and when he kept going it hurt. Fun huh." Sero grins.

"Dude, let her explain it." Kirishima sighs.

"It felt good. Really good. I've never felt anything like that before." You go to continue your job of blowing Sero, but he stops you.

"Let's take this to Bakugou's room." Sero smirks.

You're on your feet in a matter of seconds until the boys toss you onto Bakugou's cozy bed, the one you've crashed on multiple times while he was away or while he slept on the couch.

This time, Sero was quick to take control of the situation, ushering you to the edge of the bed where your head hung off. Sero smiled down at you, tapping his cock against your lips again as you eventually opened it for him. Before sliding it in, Sero leaned down and spit into your mouth, cutting any possible complaints off by shoving his cock down your throat.

"Fuck." Sero dragged out, watching as Kirishima took the opportunity to plant himself between your thighs, his tongue diving into your cunt. Your moans were silenced by Sero's cock as he fucked your throat raw. Kaminari was the only one who hadn't been inside your throat. But he was doing just fine, teasing himself with his hand, forcing himself to stop every time he felt like cumming at the sight of you being used by his friends.

"She tastes so good. Want more." Kirishima muttered against your cunt, using one hand to spread you open as his tongue wrecked your clit, his other hand dipped a single finger inside your tight entrance.

"She's so fucking tight." Kirishima commented, rubbing his middle finger along your folds, his knuckle just barely grazing the fleshy walls of your hole.

"I bet." Bakugou muttered.

"Can I fuck her thighs?" Kaminari asked, eyes bright with excitement. It was something he'd dreamt about doing. Feeling your plush thighs squeeze his cock, all while gripping handfuls of your tits, cumming on your tummy. It was a thought he could get off to over and over again.

"Shit. Gonna cum!" Sero groaned, sliding his cock past your lips once more, his cock twitching as he shot his hot load down your throat.

The next few seconds were fuzzy. Sero pulled out and shot up, cum leaking from past your lips. You couldn't swallow it. Shamefully spitting up, feeling horrible, it dropped onto your stomach and began to leak and make a mess.

"Awe, poor thing. Never had anyone cum in your pretty mouth before huh?" Sero patted your head, tilting it back so you could look up at him. Your lips were glossy and glistening with spit and cum, but your eyes were watery.

"Sorry! I-"

"Don't apologize. I should've just cum all over this pretty face instead." He smirked, leaning down, pressing a rough kiss to your lips. Kirishima decides to add another finger, and you're gone, moaning into Sero's mouth, hands gripping the sheets with enough force to turn your knuckles white.

Your thighs clamp over Kirishima's ears, and you find yourself grinding against his tongue and fingers, back arching off of the mattress. Bakugou just stands in awe, whipping out his phone to record the whole scene.

"Alright let Kaminari have his fuckin' turn." Bakugou groans, tugging Kirishima away, watching how your legs twitch as you cum for the second time. You're so sensitive and you don't know why. For the first time, after Sero pulls away, you see Kaminari's cock.

It's a little larger than average. It's pretty and slightly fatter at the head than at the base, and much like Sero's, as a pretty curve in it. Kaminari is eager to sandwich his cock between your thighs, watching how he smiles as he leans down to paw at your tits.

Just as he slides through your thighs, you feel the friction of his cock glide against your cunt, and suddenly you're awakened to yet another new feeling. Your back falls flat against the mattress again, your eyes floating back up to Sero who hovers over you. You go to reach for his cock but he shakes his head and yanks Kirishima over to his spot.

"Be a good girl for Kirishima, he likes to fuck pretty little mouths like yours." Sero grins evilly. You stare at the monster cock above your lips and you hesitate. How does he fucking live with a cock like this? Your cunt throbs just looking at it. You can imagine it buried in your cunt, your legs shaking as you cum over and over again on it.

Kaminari panted as moaned as his cock fucked your thighs, his hands still kneading your tits as Kirishima forced his cock down your throat, this time much slower than Bakugou or Sero had done. Your jaw ached in a much more intense pain. But you squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring it.

"That's it, take my fucking cock down your throat like the stupid little fucktoy you are." Kirishima degraded you. You let your hand travel down between your legs, forcing it to your cunt while not disrupting Kaminari's pleasure.

"Aw look, she wants to cum again." Kaminari quickly snatches your frisky hand back up, slowing his ministrations and slowing the friction of his cock grinding against your cunt.

Kaminari and the rest of the men hear your failed attempt at a whine as you struggle with Kirishima's cock in your mouth. Kaminari's hips move slowly and smoothly, humping your thighs like a needy pup.

Pining your hands to the mattress as he grinds his cock between your thighs, Kaminari lets out a huff before pulling himself away from you.

Kaminari groans and slinks over to Bakugou, whispering something in his ear which only elicits a smirk on his lips. Bakugou passes the word onto Sero who passes it onto Kirishima like a game of telephone.

Suddenly Kirishima's drawing his cock from your mouth and Bakugou's tugging you up.

"Get on your knees." Bakugou instructs, forcing your face down into the mattress, hiking your ass up into the air. Bakugou's palm comes down against your ass, the sound echoing in the full room. You whine into the sheets as he does it again, this time letting his hands grip your cheeks, spreading you apart.

"God, you're fucking dripping." Bakugou's not worried about the mess you've made smearing Sero's cum over his sheets, he'll have to wash them after what's going to happen.

Bakugou leans down into his mattress, tasting you for the first time. You clench the sheets between your hands, mewling in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit and scoops up your juices, most of it dribbling down his chin. He's eating you out like he'd been starved. You're cumming in a matter of seconds as he continues.

"'s too much! Please!" You cry out, your cunt aching in overstimulation. Kaminari had denied you once, and it didn't take much for the need to cum to overtake you.

"Gonna have to fuckin' punish you for that. Did I say you could cum, bitch?" Bakugou pulls away, spanking you once more.

"N-no!" You cry.

"'m sorry!" You apologize, hoping your efforts would spare you humiliation. But oh how wrong you were.

A searing pain rips through you as Bakugou's cock pushes past your entrance. Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth hangs open, a small cry ripping through your throat.

"It hurts!" You cry. Suddenly, the searing pain stops. Bakugou has pulled out, sighing as he moves onto the bed, waving for the guys to join.

Bakugou guides you down onto his cock, however, this time it's more like sitting on his lap. He's propped against his headboard, and you ease down as best as you can. It hurts, but Kirishima and Sero coddle you, kissing on your neck and chest, leaving Kaminari to suck on your nipples, flicking his tongue across your the hardened buds.

Bakugou bottoms out inside of you and all you can feel is the stretch. It hurts, more than anything you've ever felt. It's overwhelming and you can't think at all. Bakugou doesn't move. He rests inside you until you give a weary moan.

"Better?" He asks softly.

"Y-yeah." Your arms sling over the shoulders of the redhead and ravenette attacking your shoulders and neck with kisses and bites.

Bakugou's hands rest on your hips and help you up and down as you begin to bounce on his cock, the tip nudging against a spongey spot inside you, forcing moans to spew from you like a shook-up soda.

"Her moans are so fuckin' dirty." Kirishima speaks against your skin, sinking a hand down to your cunt, his fingers beginning to work at your clit, making you spew even lewder sounds as your moans turn to mewls and cries of pleasure.

"Who knew she could moan like that?" Kaminari laughed, palming at your breasts. You feel embarrassed, letting these men rip you to shreds while trying to learn.

It then dawns on you how you'd ended up in this predicament in the first place. You came here willing to learn, hoping to bring back something to help Izuku, but you'd completely blanked. You couldn't really remember anything they'd taught you, or if they'd taught you anything at all. Once you sucked Bakugou's cock, it'd all happened so fast.

Sitting on Denki's face, stuffing your face full of Kirishima and Sero's cock, cumming on Bakugou's tongue while being face down on his bed. It was all a strange feeling.

And now as your mind began to turn blank, vision clouding from pleasure, you realized you were fixing to cum again, this time from Bakugou's cock. All your pain had melted away-though a dull ache still remained in your abdomen, and turned to pleasure. You were cumming.

You. Were cumming.

Bakugou had taken your virginity.

And Bakugou had come to the same conclusion. As your cunt squeezed and pulsed against his aching cock, so desperately wanting to spill his load inside you and see you plump with his kid, claiming you for his own, stealing you away from that stupid fucking nerd you were with, he realized he had been the one in the end to claim you, and your virginity.

It was a sick and twisted sense of pride, to really think he had any say-so over your body. But there was something so devilishly hot to say that he'd been your first.

"Bakugou!" You cried out, your nails digging into the skin of Kirishima and Sero. Bakugou's cock continued to thrust into you.

"Yeah take my fuckin' cock. Take it you fuckin' whore. Gonna fuck you until you're braindead." Bakugou muttered, reaching a hand up to grip your throat, forcing your back against his chest.

"I wanna see you full of Kirishima's cock. Think you could take it? He'd rip you apart." Bakugou grinned, setting his friend up next. You shook your head against his hand on your throat.

"It's too big!" You cried, hoping that he'd listen to you. But he didn't. Instead, you found yourself back on the mattress, this time on your hands and knees. Weakly you kept yourself upright as Kirishima positioned at your entrance,

"Gonna use you like the little cocksleeve you are." Kirishima chuckles, watching as you squirm as the tip grazes your tight hole. Your cunt is dripping, every little touch seems to make you whine, and you can't tell if you've peed yourself or if you're just that wet. You think the former would be less embarrassing, but you decide to just stop thinking about it, and instead, you thank your body for all the natural lubrication it's making for Kirishima's cock.

Kaminari takes your mouth, sliding his cock inside and finally getting to feel what everyone else had. You can't speak, you can barely make any sounds with how raw they've fucked your throat. And you're painfully aware that they hadn't even bothered to slap on a condom. Not that you'd minded, they'd shown you time and time again that they were clean, and you were happy they'd taken the steps to have safe sex with any partner they had.

Kirishima's fingers leave bruises on your hips, gripping you with force. He sheathes himself inside you and you swear you feel yourself ripping in half.

It's so much, all at one time.

"Holy shit she fucking took you all." Bakugou says shocked, almost as if that was something to be proud of.

"He sent a chick to the ER. That phone call was awful." Sero teases the redhead for one of his mishaps.

"I didn't purposely hurt her! I was just trying to have fun, didn't think my cock was capable of tearing her fuckin' vagina." Kirishima feels a bit awkward talking about a terrible sex story while he's plowing into you, especially since you're too cockdrunk to even realize what's happening.

"Would you two shut up?" Kaminari's grabbing a fistful of your hair as he tilts your head back, sliding his cock down your throat, smiling down at you.

"You're doing such a good job. So fuckin' cute swallowing my cock like that." Kaminari praises. His praises make you feel warm and fuzzy, and you think for a moment, this is what it's like to be loved. But then images of Deku cross your mind. And your gaze drops, and you feel ashamed. You feel dirty.

You repeat to yourself that this is just a learning experience and nothing more. You'd never do this because you weren't satisfied in your relationship. No. You were doing this for Deku. You wanted to show him you knew what you were doing. You wanted to show him he could fuck your throat and make you cum with his tongue.

Kirishima grunted, his cock stretching even further, reminding you of the pain Bakugou had put you through the first time he'd entered you. It burned, but it became tolerable after a while.

"Shit, she's so fuckin' tight. Wanna cum inside." Kirishima groans. Your ears perk up at his words. You want to tell him no, but you can't. You don't. He pulls out before he gets the chance to and you're relieved.

"Sero, your turn." Kirishima trades places with Sero who was stroking his cock watching you get dicked down on both ends. Sero's cock takes you down an undiscovered path.

It seems every time he slides into you, his cock nudges against that spot inside you, making you cry in pleasure as Kaminari swaps places with Bakugou, his cock rammed down your throat once more.

Things become blurry, and all you remember is cumming again and again. When Sero nears his climax, he swaps places with Kaminari and Kirishima takes his chance to fuck your throat.

Kaminari's pace is different from Kirishima, Sero, and Bakugou's. He has no restraint. He fucks you fast, and hard, sending your body forward with each heavy thrust. He might be a bit smaller compared to the males, but he surely makes up for it.

"Out of everyone here, Kaminari has the most experience." Sero chimes in, patting his shoulder while he huffs, pounding into you until you're cumming around his cock, your milky white juices leaking out everywhere.

"She's making such a mess. How pitiful. So how fucked out are you, gorgeous?" Sero asks, watching as Kirishima pulls his cock out from your mouth, drool and saliva dripping past your lips as you choke out a moan.

"Feels-s so good." You babble, your head hangs on your shoulder as you bury it into the mattress, moaning as Kaminari fucks you into yet another orgasm. His stamina is incredible considering you thought he was still new to sex. Sorry Kami.

"She's fuckin' out of it jesus christ." Bakugou mumbles, pulling Kaminari out from between your cunt. Bakugou flips you onto your back and stares at you in amazement. Your legs are shaking and you're still making noise, whining about how you want more and how empty you feel.

"Please, fill me up." You whine, staring at the boys.

"With a face like that, how could we resist?" Kirishima grins, slapping Sero on the ass. Sero rolls his eyes and joins you on the bed.

"Think you can take two at once gorgeous?" Sero coos, laying down beside you, ushering you to lay on top of him. Your mouth drops open as you lower yourself onto him and lay back, watching as Bakugou saunters around to the front. He grins as he lines his cock up at your entrance, just barely pushing his tip inside.

"Kirishima stretched her out good for us to use her like the little whore she is. God, she's so fucking good at this I almost don't wanna give her back." Sero whines against your back, kissing your bare skin as Kaminari watches in amazement as Bakugou sinks his cockhead inside your already full cunt.

"So full. Want your cocks inside me." You manage to blurt out as Bakugou grips your thighs, shoving his cock into your stuffed pussy. It wouldn't fit all the way, but it threw you over the edge.

"Maybe she needs that filthy mouth of hers full of cock again." Kirishima's hand strokes his cock, eyeing Kaminari. Kaminari eagerly hops onto the bed, his knees hitting against Sero's arm as he taps his cock on your lips.

"Come on angel, wrap those pretty lips around my dick." Kaminari smiles, watching as your mouth lolled open. Sero's arms wrapped around your tummy, holding you against him as he fucked up into you, his cock rubbing against Bakugou's inside of you, both cocks rubbing against your walls, making you feel insanely good.

Kirishima was not going to let this moment go to waste. Snatching Bakugou's phone, he began to record, calling you a slut for them.

"Look at this cockdrunk whore. Stuffed full of three fuckin' cocks." Kirishima laughed, holding the phone near your pussy, making sure to record how Bakugou and Sero abused your cunt.

"What would Deku do if he got this nasty little clip huh? Bet he'd call you a slut. Watching his friends fuck your little virgin cunt until you're braindead." Kirishima grinned as he moved and set the phone up to continue recording for the rest of the session.

"Wanna fuckin' fill you up." Bakugou grunted.

"Teach that nerd a fuckin' lesson about how to fuck a woman." He continued.

"She's making such a mess, look at that pretty pussy. So sloppy." Kaminari moaned as your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, trying your best to take him into your mouth. The angle was a bit awkward but you managed, eventually pulling him into your mouth.

"God let's hurry this up, I can't take much more of her cunt squeezing me." Sero huffed into your back. He was going to cum again if he kept going. He wanted to fill you up like everyone else did, but he wanted to see his cum all over your pretty face.

Bakugou pulled out first leaving Sero alone inside you. You let out a strangled moan as Bakugou tapped his cock against your sensitive clit, your cries no longer silenced by Kaminari's cock since he too had pulled his cock from your mouth.

"Get down on the floor, on your knees." Bakugou instructed. Hazily you lifted yourself from Sero's cock, slightly amused by the moan he let out as he slid out of you. You stumbled onto the floor, sitting patiently on your knees as they gathered around you, this time smushing themselves to all have a view of you in the front.

"Can't wait to see you covered in cum." Kaminari spoiled the surprise, his hand jerking his cock. You stared up at Bakugou. Leaning in you licked the tip of his cock, watching as his eyes rolled back. You took turns swapping between the males until they were all helping you out, stroking their cocks at fast paces until Bakugou came.

Hot ropes of cum stuck to your face and chest as Kaminari came second, Sero third, and Kirishima fourth. It dribbled down your chin as you stared up at them, each of them smiling proudly at you.

"So fuckin' slutty. Look at her, so fucked out." Sero said breathily. They all rushed to grab their phones, snapping pictures of you covered in their cum. You just sat quietly, staring up at them as your chest heaved, your cunt throbbing.

"So what'd you learn?" Bakugou leans down, a handful of your hair holding your head back so he could look into your eyes.

"I-I like being stuffed full of cock." You babbled. Your cheeks were stained with his cum.

"Whose cock?" Bakugou's eyes narrowed.

"Yours." You parted your lips, still miraculously trying to catch your breath.

"Good girl." Bakugou praised. The other boys gathered around you, leaning down with towels to help clean you up.

It took about fifteen minutes to clean you up entirely, but afterward, they helped dress you and treated you to some dinner. You were nothing but smiles the entire time.

Before you left their apartment, Bakugou pulled you aside.

"Record your time with Deku so we can give you another lesson." He whispered into your ear, an evil smirk on his lips. You pulled away from him shyly, nodding.

"Thank you for teaching me." You thanked the men as you walked toward the door, an obvious limp in your step.

"Do you need a ride home angel?" Sero asks, ready to hop in his car and drive you over to your shared apartment with Deku.

"I think I'll be okay. I drove here anyway." You giggle. Sero smiles and glances at the others. Visions of your face covered in cum plague Sero's thoughts and he wants to slam you against the front door and fuck you all over again.

The same image is running through everyone's head as they stare at you as you leave, wanting you to stay. But it's too late when the door shuts and they're left alone as if nothing had happened.

"What happened doesn't leave this fuckin' apartment." Bakugou states, trudging off down to his room to put his freshly washed sheets on the bed.

When you arrive home, Deku's happy to see you. He doesn't question where you'd been, he knew you were with the boys hanging out. He smiles when you kiss him, and he's nothing but unaware of what had gone down.

He doesn't know about the cocks that had been stuffed inside your cunt, or a spot or two of dried cum that the towel might've missed that you'll clean up in the shower soon. He doesn't know about how dirty your mouth got and how it was filled with his friend's cocks only hours earlier.

He cuddles you sincerely until your hand begins to wander, palming him through his boxers.

"I'm ready." You smile sweetly, ready to put all that you had learned to the test.

✦ 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ✦

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opalesense · 4 years

Text

darkest fantasy

childe & f!reader (NSFW)

3.7k words • ~30 min. read

summary: one night you decide to make one of childe’s darkest fantasies into a reality, but as the night progresses, things don’t seem to go according to plan. at least... not according to your plan.

warnings: cnc, sexual assault, blood, death, knives, outdoor sex, lil comfort at the end i promise

notes: saw fatui agent childe fanart and AWOOGA... anyway i tried putting some in game screenshots in this for that extra ~immersion~ and might do that more often in some future fics if you guys want! thanks for 200 followers and i hope you enjoy!! ; ^ ;

“I SHOULDN’T HAVE BROUGHT IT UP,” Childe’s eyebrows furrowed as he rested a hand against his forehead, clearly flustered by the way he chuckled his nervousness away. “You really get me to say the stupidest things, [Y/N].”

“It’s not stupid at all! C’mon, lighten up a bit!” you placed a hand on his arm and inched closer to his face, sensing the warmth in his cheeks. His shy eyes connected with yours when he let out a deep sigh, thanking you for the validation without him needing to say anything. It was rare to see him this nervous.

“We’re not going to do it, babe. You asked me to tell you a secret fantasy and that’s all it’ll ever be. A fantasy. Just something in my imagination.”

He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling away from you and walking towards the bedroom door to call it a night, but you quickly gripped him by the wrist to pull him back which immediately grabbed his attention. Swiftly, you leaned in to mutter words into his ear that would echo in his head for the rest of the night until the next day.

“Luckily for you, the thought of doing it gets me a little excited. So why don’t we try to make your fantasy into a reality?”

THE HARBOR’S NIGHT LIFE always flourished near the end of the week. Plenty of workers who had weekends off would fish by the docks, street performers and storytellers would entertain families passing by, and restaurants would be packed full with hungry customers craving for the delectable cuisine of Liyue. Teenage friends gathered in front of the theatre while the elderly seemed to congregate by the teahouse. Children ran across the pavement from time to time flying kites and playing with butterflies. Liyue was truly fascinating during the night, full of a liveliness that always put a sense of joy in each heart that walked through its streets.

Yet when you walked through the streets, lacking a companion and cold from the slightly revealing dress you wore, there was a sickly mixture of giddy excitement and wrenching anxiety in your heart. You had loosely planned this night with Childe so you knew what to expect, but at the same time, you didn’t. You had no idea where he was, what exactly he was planning to do to you, or when it would all start in the first place since you had been wandering around the harbor for about an hour now. All he wanted you to do was “wear this dress and enjoy your evening,” as he said in his own words. But he simply left you with those vague instructions as well as a bag of Mora to indulge yourself with.

Even if he didn’t show up, the highlight of your night would be the mouthwatering dinner you had by yourself along with the sight of people offering lanterns to the sky. It was a beautiful night indeed.

Another hour of wandering and occupying yourself with activities passed and you were feeling restless. The thought of Childe made you squirm in your seat, excitement flooding your nerves as you craved to see him now more than ever.

If Childe’s following me, I should go somewhere less crowded, you thought.

Assuming he was watching you at this very moment, you decided to make things easier for him, leaving the storyteller’s pavilion and walking across the bridge heading towards Mt. Tianheng. Mindlessly wandering and following the dirt path, you began to veer left towards the Golden House, but the distant sight of the Millelith immediately turned you back around.

Not there.

ON YOUR WAY BACK to the main path, you noticed a smaller, less travelled road wedged between two large rocks, the dimly lit lantern sitting up ahead enticing you to follow where it leads. You found yourself curiously walking up the hill, taking in the starry night sky and whistling trees until you turned the final corner to see a group of miners idly standing around, bantering with one nearby Millelith guard.

They noticed your sudden presence and waved hello, to which you waved hello back. One of the miners, who leaned against a cart full of iron, was the first to fully acknowledge you. “Hey, are you lost, miss?”

“Oh, no, not at all. I was just curiously wandering around, taking in the sights and all,” you grinned politely, glancing up at the calm night sky. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it boys?”

“Taking in the sights, are you?” another miner slowly approached you, a few more starting to pay attention to you. “You know, you’re certainly a sight to take in too with that pretty little dress of yours.”

You had completely forgotten that you looked very out of place with what you were wearing – a short traditional-like dress with a small hole exposing a small area of your chest. Your eyes quickly widened as you processed what the miner said, but before you fully realized it and came back to your senses, the men had circled around you and were getting dangerously close. You instinctively reached down to grab the blade that was usually tucked and sheathed in your belt but after grabbing nothing with the realization that of course, you were wearing a dress, genuine panic began to seep in.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out late at night looking like that anyway? You’re practically begging to be touched,” a man’s voice behind you teased, grabbing your hips as he emphasized that last word. You swiftly elbowed him in the ribs to defend yourself and temporarily push him away, but the other men were quick to react as a pair of hands grabbed your arms and pinned you into place.

You snapped your head towards the Millelith guard, expecting him to do something to help you as a protector of the harbor. But he simply stood there at his post, glancing away as soon as you met his eyes. And if Childe were watching, you were sure he would have stepped in by now. He was often the jealous type anyway. But while the men slowly pulled you under a nearby deteriorated pergola despite your thrashing then greedily groped your body, help was nowhere to be seen.

All hope you had for a fun night was gone. Tears swelled in your eyes as you attempted to kick away the hungry hands but it was no use. Please, you silently prayed, someone help me!

As if someone had heard your prayers, the sound of a projectile zipping past your head followed by your arms being freed from the man who was restricting you was the sound of freedom. The others looked up in horror and paused their advances as their friend dropped injured behind you. Suddenly, a dark figure leaped from the hill above and landed on the ground confidently, quickly pulling out two blades then lunging forward to the miners, catching them by surprise. You took this temporary moment of freedom to kick the hands off of you and scramble away, running back towards the path. You could hear the sounds of bodies thumping to the ground behind you coupled with loud groans of agony, and you can only imagine what your unknown savior looked like but all you could focus on was getting away as soon as possible with the limited mental strength you had.

But much to your dismay, one of the miners still managed to grab you tightly and drag you back, and every time you wiggled away, they had a strong grip on you. Sobs of desperation escaped your throat, “Let me go! Let me go, please! Help!”

“Leaving so soon?” a different voice growled in your ear as the man’s grip around your waist tightened. It was deep, distorted, and certainly anxiety inducing. You looked down in a flurry of panic to see black and red sleeves wrapped around your figure. This was not one of the miners.

The man lifted you up a few inches from the ground to turn you around. You were faced with bodies littering the floor. It had only been less than ten seconds and the entire scene was drenched in blood. The sight of the freshly killed miners as well as the one guard made you tremble in fear rather than feel grateful for being saved just now.

“I think I deserve a reward for protecting you from those filthy bastards, wouldn’t you agree?” the man inched you closer to the bodies but you closed your eyes as soon as you could recognize the open wounds from his blades. “At least a thank you would be nice.”

“Get away from me!” you yelled and thrashed in his arms again but quickly stopped once you heard the sound of his blade being unsheathed. You opened your eyes to see a bloodied dead man at your feet as well as a knife at your throat, pressing gently at your fragile skin.

“You’re a tough one, aren’t you? I wouldn’t be so resistant if I were you,” the man’s gravelly voice was definitely unfamiliar but his tone and inflection reminded you of...

“Childe....” you weakly muttered under your breath, which made the man laugh in response.

“Childe, you say? You have something to do with the boss?” he pressed his hips harder against yours, his erection subtly throbbing underneath his clothes.

“So you’re Fatui, aren’t you?” you mustered enough courage to make your voice sound threatening enough. You let out a sarcastic laugh despite your low confidence. “You have no idea who you’re messing with. Once Childe finds out about this, your life will be over within seconds.”

“Who are you to say something like that?” he slowly began walking the two of you over to the nearest wall, a large rock that cast an equally large shadow from the moonlight. “I’m surprised a dumb little slut like you would even know his name.”

Your eyes squinted at the insult. “You don’t need to know who I am. All you have to know is you’ll be dead by tomorrow morning.”

“We’ll see about that,” he suddenly used his free arm to turn you around so your back slammed against the cold rock. You finally looked up at your captor to confirm your suspicions of this predatory savior. He was certainly part of the Fatui, his red and black mask concealing his identity with yellow glowing eyes staring directly at you. His arm positioned itself directly next to your head so he could hold his blade against your neck again, threatening any potential thoughts of escaping. His other hand suddenly grabbed the open space in your dress and pulled down, ripping the fabric in half and exposing your half naked form, eliciting a loud gasp from you. Panic began to seep in. How could I walk back home practically naked? Would I even end up alive to come back home?

Before you could use your arms to cover yourself up in an attempt at modesty, he pressed the blade to your neck that even the slightest movement would ensure spilled blood. “Don’t even think about it.”

He looked up and down at your body, humming with satisfaction as he began to unzip his pants and free his cock. You couldn’t exactly take a good look at it with the knife restricting your range of motion, but even then, you weren’t sure you wanted to look. His free hand gripped your bare waist. “And to think that those other filthy men were about to get their hands on this... You really should thank me.”

Another gasp escaped your throat as he slowly dug his hand under the strap of your underwear. His leather gloves snaked their way further down, inching closer and closer to your core. You could feel his grip on his blade tighten with his tensed muscles. “That was a command. Thank me.”

“T-Thank you,” you whimpered as he pulled down the last bit of clothing you hid behind. He let out a satisfied groan at the sight of your aching cunt, which you hated to admit was dripping wet from thinking about Childe earlier in the night. Even now, you really hated to admit this situation was somehow turning you on, even though you were simultaneously disgusted and shaking in fear.

“You’re practically soaking for me, aren’t you?” the man let out a slow chuckle as he dipped a gloved finger into your hole without warning. You gasped at the sudden penetration, careful not to arch your back into his touch with the knife still pressed at your throat. The man began relentlessly shifting his finger in and out of you and watched your face squirm with pleasure and denial at the same time. He maniacally chuckled at the way you were completely unsure of how to feel, and wanting to hear you moan louder instead of quietly pant and sigh, he inserted another finger and picked up the pace.

“Your cunt is so tight, you know that?” he teased, “If you’re moaning like this now I can only imagine how my cock will make you feel.”

“N-No, please,” you moaned out helplessly, “Please don’t...”

He pulled his fingers away and quickly shoved them into your mouth while it was still open, freeing your throat from his knife and slowly trailing it down your body while he made you suck on his gloved fingers, wet from your own fluids. The cold metal found itself settling right above your hips and with no hesitation he began leaving flesh wounds, the leftover blood from the men easily being mistaken as yours at first glance.

“I’m going to put away the knife, but you’ll be a good girl for me and stay still, won’t you? You saw what I did to those men. It would be a shame if you met the same fate just because you wanted to escape,” he sheathed the blade and pulled his fingers out of your mouth to grab your waist, forcing you to turn around. He bent down slightly to get a hold of your thighs, and in one swift move, folded your body into the likings of a full nelson, your legs hanging onto his elbows with his chest pressed against your tense back. As he reached his hands to clasp behind your neck and push your body into the intense position, the connection between this man and Childe made your eyes light up.

This was one of his favorite positions. No way it was just coincidence.

“So it is you, Childe,” you happily grinned as he turned the both of you to face the bloodied mess from before so he could lean against the wall. His touches seemed to get more familiar as the realization sunk in, but at the same time, you wondered if your mind was just playing tricks on you to make the best out of the current situation. You sat on the fence of either blindly believing this mysterious man was Childe or giving into the reality that this really was a stranger.

“You’re delusional, slut. Childe has nothing to do with this, I don’t know why you keep mentioning his name,” he hissed in your ear, getting more and more irritated.

You finally glanced down for the first time since nothing could restrict your neck anymore. To your delight, you smiled at his throbbing cock twitching as it waited at your entrance, aching to stir your insides. You giggled sweetly, finally relaxing with a deep sigh. You now knew with certainty that you were safe. Everything was under control. His control.

“Childe, I recognize every inch of your cock like it’s second nature,” you stared at his familiar length then reached out to wrap your fingers around the tip, the muscle twitching in response. “You’ve never been this hard before... You must be so excited right now.”

“One more word out of you about Childe and I will kill you right here. Do not test me.”

“You wouldn’t, right? You love me too much,” you boldly declared, teasing him for staying in character. When he didn’t answer and instead shifted his cock to push his tip inside you, you let out a sharp exhale. He went in too fast, too rough. Even if you were dripping wet, the way he shoved himself inside you was merciless and tore you apart immediately.

You tried to find the pleasure in it but as soon as he started thrusting not even a few seconds later, you worriedly whispered, “S-Slow down... Please! It hurts, Ajax-“

“You’re going to take all of it in. Maybe that’ll teach you not to be an annoying, disobedient brat from now on,” he interrupted.

Destroying you was an understatement of what he was truly doing to your body. He would repeatedly pull his length out before shoving it back in, rolling his hips so naturally with each thrust having clear intention to break you apart. Your cunt visibly throbbed, the excruciating pain slowly turning into ethereal pleasure from the attention it was getting from his thick shaft. He closely listened to the way your cries turns into gleeful moans, excitedly fucking you as his mind further indulged in the fantasy. After all, this entire night had been exceedingly frustrating and enticing to him and to take out all his pent up energy on you was the only thing on his lust filled mind.

Soon enough, his thrusts began to roll in harder as he held onto you tightly, his moans becoming more intense as the only thing on his mind was how good he was feeling, fucking you in front of the kills he certainly prided himself on. Similarly, you felt your insides burn at the feeling of being manhandled and treated like a toy, or the way he began moaning your name in a low whisper as you felt his cock twitching inside you, aching for release – the first time he had ever acknowledged your name tonight.

“[Y/N], baby – fuck!” his distorted voice cried out, “I’m... I’m gonna...!”

“Me too...!” you felt your legs shake violently as you neared your climax, “A-Ajax!”

He let out one final thrust, burying himself inside of you until his length plugged up your sore hole and dumped his seed deep inside you. His load came in pulses, slowly coating your insides with moans of ecstasy ringing in your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. Your cunt quivered as you reached your release as well, your fluids swirling with his to make one happy mix of satisfaction.

The both of you stayed in this position, panting and trying to calm down from your highs. Childe let go of his hands behind your neck and positioned them to hold your knees without pulling out of you, allowing you to freely move your head again. Though, you didn’t want to take your eyes off of his cock buried inside of you, opting to keep your head hanging down to actively avoid looking at the bodies in front of you. Childe must have noticed this, and of course, he had to say something about it.

“Sorry about... them. I hate... really hate when people try to mess with what’s mine,” he took a deep sigh as he slowly pulled out of you, watching his cum ooze out from your cunt to drip down to the space between his shoes. The sight could have been enough for him to push for another round, but he figured now wasn’t the time. He had the urge to explain himself.

“I was just so mad and... though I have to admit, seeing their blood on my blade got me so excited... wait, I think I might’ve gotten a little too excited,” something seemed to have clicked in his mind when he said that, “Baby, I’m so sorry! We shouldn’t have done this, I did so many things to you, I’m so sorr-“

“It’s okay, Childe,” you slowly turned your head to his so your faces were only an inch apart, his mask being the sole barrier that stopped you from kissing him to shut him up. “I had so much fun. Did you?”

“Of course I did,” he slowly placed you down to stand on your feet again, which was admittedly tough since he had fucked the life out of you. He briefly held your waist to stabilize you as you wobbled back and forth, his cum now dripping down your thighs. He then lifted his hood up to reveal his fluffy red hair and took off his mask, throwing it to the ground to meet you with teary eyes. His voice was no longer distorted by that cursed mask, and a look of genuine concern sat in his deep eyes. “I-I’m so sorry for scaring you, [Y/N]. I could see it in your eyes the entire time and I hate to admit that it turned me on and now I feel so bad–“

You swiftly pressed your lips to his, finally shutting him up from his rambling. He responded by eagerly returning the kiss, cupping your face in his hands and closing his eyes. For a moment, his troubles melted away once he realized you weren’t upset with him, and millions of thoughts about how much he loved you raced through his mind. But It wasn’t long before he broke the exchange, taking off his hooded garments to drape it over your cold, naked body. It was apparent he put thought into this moment, already wearing his normal clothes underneath the Fatui uniform as if he had planned to cover you up from the start. He made sure to pin it closed and fasten it tightly, ensuring that every exposed part of you was warm and covered. Once he was done, he pulled you in for a hug, holding you tightly as he stared at the bodies behind you, sighing contently.

“I love you, [Y/N]. Thank you for accepting me for who I am and letting me have tonight. We really don’t have to do this ever again if you don’t want to.”

“I love you too,” you smiled sweetly. “Just... next time, please don’t keep me waiting so long. The uncertainty was thrilling but I was sure I was going to die back there.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time. I just got caught up with the Millelith because I’m dressed like an agent, then I lost sight of you and... wait,” he pressed his forehead against yours and gently, yet eagerly whispered with a grin, “so there’s really going to be a next time?”

#childe #childe x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #ajax #ajax x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #genshin impact x reader

1K notes · View notes

sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years

Text

42 Hours

Content: an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time

Warnings: language, mentions of nsfw content

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 20k

A/N: I actually cannot believe that this is finally being posted over almost a month of working on it!! originally, I was going to make this one long stand alone fic, but once I hit 35k with no end in sight, I decided to split it into two parts so that it would be easier to read for you guys. I’m hoping to have part 2 posted within a week, so keep an eye out for it!! this fic was partially inspired by this post by @avhrodite (thank you miss bailey!!) and can I just say that I had so much fun writing it!! I love road trips!! it makes me so sad that I had to split this fic because there are so many fun music scenes in the next part but those will all come in due time!! I would also like to give a big thank you to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy and miss alex @darthstyles for putting up with me bouncing ideas off of them and for proof reading for me!! and miss andrea again for editing this stunning header pic!! also everyone I tagged is a wonderful writer and if you’re looking for more to read after reading this then I HIGHLY suggest taking a look through their masterlists. and as always, if you like this fic, please like and reblog it!! and shoot me a message!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by all content creators <3

{masterlist}

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

When she was a little girl, Y/N’s grandmother had told her about Murphy’s Law. Grandma Sarah’s favourite activity was staring at her granddaughter over the kitchen counter, a knife in one hand and half an onion that she’d been cutting in the other, spouting various wisdoms at the young girl, who would often be sitting and peeling vegetables for her. The old lady had hoped that, after being lectured enough times on life’s difficulties, Y/N might be able to avoid making the same mistakes that she had made in her own time. She always had a list of advice that she’d cycle through, as if she were a record on a loop.

“Always look both ways before crossing the street. Your great uncle Albert didn’t, and he never regained full function of his left hand.”

“Beauty fades, but there’s no shelf life on your mind.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side, so stop staring at it, and focus on taking care of your own lawn.”

All of the advice was, by any accounts, useful for anyone to know, especially a young girl. Of course, sometimes the advice would get a little scrambled after Grandma Sarah had had a few glasses of wine, but even her tipsy thoughts were useful to Y/N in her later years. To this day, Y/N still sets a glass of water on her nightstand before going out to a bar, and her hungover self is always grateful the next morning. And Y/N had yet to find anything that smelled as sweet as a vanilla dabbed behind her ears and on her wrists when she runs out of perfume. However, perhaps the most important piece of advice Grandma Sarah ever gave her came one afternoon when Y/N was eleven years old, and her older cousin Grace was due to get married the next week.

Grandma Sarah had cracked egg after egg into her mixing bowl, always without getting any unwanted pieces of shell in the egg whites, and gave her granddaughter a long look across the kitchen counter.

“When you get married, Y/N,” She had said, voice firm. “Remember Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment. When Murphy’s Law comes into play, there’s nothing you can do except roll with the punches.”

Eleven year old Y/N had nodded her head seriously, as she always did when her grandmother told her seemingly important things. The advice, despite its usefulness, however, didn’t stick around in her head, and Murphy’s Law didn’t cross Y/N’s mind for fourteen years.

It takes fourteen years for Y/N, who is standing in front of a flight check-in at LAX, two large suitcases next to her, one of which contains two gold wedding bands, passport in hand, and a distressed look on her face, to remember the law her grandmother had once told her about.

“When you get married, Y/N…anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment.”

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Y/N pushes the echoing words of her grandmother out of her head. “I’m sorry, just—” She gives a pained smile to the lady working the check in. “Can you explain that to me again, please?”

The lady also takes a deep breath, the smile on her ruby tinted lips just as pained as Y/N’s. “There’s a storm system moving through Utah and Colorado. These systems have the potential to become tornadoes, and because of that, the conditions for flying are too dangerous right now, so all flights through that area are grounded until further notice.”

“So my flight is cancelled?” Y/N holds up the ticket in her hand that’s stamped with LAX – JFK. “This flight, this flight to New York, which is nowhere near Utah—that’s cancelled?”

The check-in lady, whose name tag reads Brynn, gives another tight smile. “Yes, ma’am. It’s cancelled.”

“Okay, no, I’m sorry, Brynn, but that doesn’t work for me.” Y/N shakes her head fiercely as the manic rush of emotions through her begins to set in. The denial, she finds, keeps the oncoming panic at bay, and so she decides to focus on that to ground herself. “My best friend is getting married in the Catskills in one week.” Y/N holds up one finger, as if her words are hard for Brynn to understand. “That’s one week from today. I’m the maid of honour. I have to be there to help organize, keep her calm, and make sure she actually makes it down the aisle, because—between you and me—she’s got some commitment issues—” The more Y/N speaks, the more her panic begins to spill out in her words, like a dam with a leak that’s about to burst. “And she forgot the goddamn wedding rings, so I have those too, and I just—I really need to get to New York, like, now. Right now.”

Y/N finally pauses to take a sharp breath, and Brynn, who had been waiting for her to finish, speaks again, her voice flatter than before.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am, but as I said, all flights are grounded right now.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, Y/N takes another deep breath. Roll with the punches, her grandmother had told her. What else is there to do? “Okay.” Y/N is careful to keep her voice in check when she speaks again. “Alright. Do you know when they’ll be ungrounded?”

“As I’ve said,” Brynn’s smile is more of a grimace now, and Y/N knows that she’s treading on thin ice. “All flights are grounded until further notice. We’re not sure when we’ll be able to open them again. It could be a day, or it could be five. If you’d like, I can put you down on a list to be called when flights are available again, but I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”

“Let’s do that, then.” Y/N relents in a tired voice, already making plans to pick up a coffee on her way back to her apartment. In the back of her mind, she begins to wonder if she has any Baileys Irish cream liqueur left in her kitchen cabinet—and if 8:30 A.M. is too early to be drinking Baileys with her coffee.

…

It takes Y/N two cups of coffee with Baileys (it had been 10 A.M. by the time she arrived home, thanks to L.A. traffic, and she had decided that 10 A.M. was a fine time to drink when one’s flight gets cancelled indefinitely) to work up the courage to call Jo and tell her that she isn’t sure if she’ll be able to make it to the wedding.

Josephine Waters, or Jo to anyone who doesn’t want to get punched in the arm, has been Y/N’s best friend since the girls were five years old. They became fast friends on the first day of kindergarten, as Jo liked how Y/N could already colour inside the lines, and Y/N liked how Jo tackled a boy who tugged on Y/N’s pigtails. From the very beginning, the two were a perfect match for each other; where Y/N was reserved, Jo was wild. Where Jo was disorganized, Y/N was focused. Each girl balanced the other in the most natural way, and it’s this fact that Y/N and Jo credit for the two of them staying friends for twenty years. As they grew up together, they grew together, taking the very best traits from the other and using it to help themselves develop. Y/N had been the first person that Jo came out to, confessing to her best friend during an eighth grade sleepover in a quiet and nervous voice. To Jo’s pleasure, Y/N had been completely supportive, and returned the favour from the first day of kindergarten by punching a boy in the nose for calling Jo a homophobic slur. Jo helped Y/N through her parent’s divorce. Y/N helped Jo manage her ADHD. Jo talked Y/N through discovering her bisexuality in university. Y/N answered every 3 A.M. phone call to comfort Jo after a panic attack. In every sense of the word, the two girls had been there for each other.

And now Y/N is going to miss Jo’s wedding.

The harsh realization digs a pit in her stomach as she opens her phone and clicks on Jo’s name. It’s noon in L.A., which means it’s 3 P.M. in New York time, and Y/N knows Jo will answer. She always does.

Sure enough, after three short rings, Jo’s voice chirps through the phone. “Hey, Y/N! Has your flight landed already?”

“No, there’s—there’s been an issue.” Y/N downs another gulp of her coffee, wishing she had added more Baileys when she had the chance, and clears her throat before continuing. “There’s, um, a storm in Utah, and apparently it’s bad, and so all flights from L.A. to New York are grounded until further notice.”

Jo makes a scoffing noise, and Y/N can practically picture the indignant look on her face that she’s seen so many times before. “That’s ridiculous. Did you tell them that New York is nowhere near Utah?”

“Uh huh.”

“What about that my wedding is in one week?”

“I told them that, too. Brynn didn’t seem to care.”

“Bitch.” Jo mutters under her breath. “Okay, just wait a second, Laure just walked through the door, so I’m putting you on speakerphone—”

Y/N hears rustling on the speaker, as well as muttering in the background as Jo speaks to her fiancée, and then Jo’s voice is back, sounding slightly more distant.

“Okay, so I told Laure what happened—”

“That’s awful, Y/N.” Laure’s voice is laced with stress, and Y/N can only imagine how much anxiety this information is adding to her already full plate. “They won’t tell you when flights will be leaving again?”

“Nope.” Y/N pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her free arm around them, leaning her head against the back of her couch.

“Okay, well, planes aren’t the only way to get here.” Laure says, always the more rational out of the two. “Maybe a car—?”

“Y/N doesn’t have one.” Jo chimes in, a hint of teasing in her voice, despite the serious problem that’s in discussion. “She’s scared of driving—”

Y/N sits up, an indignant look on her face. “I’m not scared of driving!” She says hotly, setting her empty coffee mug on the table with a thud. “I just hate L.A. traffic, and honestly, there’s no point! I can walk to work, and Uber anywhere else I need to go! A car would be completely useless to me!”

“Except now, when you’re about to miss your best friend’s wedding.” Jo points out. “What about renting one?”

Y/N sighs, her moment of indignation already fizzled out. “I tried that already. There’s nothing available for a cross country trip.”

“And the drive is so long.” Laure murmurs, and Y/N knows it’s more for Jo’s benefit than hers. “It’s over forty hours. She can’t do that by herself; it’s not safe.”

“But—”

“Look, Jo, don’t worry about this, alright?” Y/N cuts across her best friend’s anxious voice, assuming her usual role of protector. “I’ll figure this out. I promise you; I will make it to your wedding on time, looking pretty in my dress, and with your wedding bands. I promise.”

“We’ll keep thinking about it and see what we can come up with.” Laure promises through the phone, her voice sounding further and further away. “This is just—it’s a bump in the road, but it’s fine. We can work around this. We’ll find a way.”

…

The way that Laure finds for Y/N pounds on her door at 7:30 A.M. the next morning.

Y/N, like any exhausted and stressed out adult who has already begun her ten days of vacation time that she booked off for the wedding, is fast asleep in her bed when she hears the knocking. The loud noise pulls her out from her dreams abruptly, and she cracks one eye open, squinting through the sunlight that’s lighting up her room. When the knock echoes through her apartment again, she pulls herself from her sheets with a groan, grabbing her robe from the back of her door and tying it around herself as she makes her way to the front hallway to yell at whoever has the audacity to wake her up.

When she opens the door, Harry Styles is peering down at her with an irritated look on his face.

“Took you long enough, Y/N.” He rolls his eyes as he speaks, finally stepping back from the door that he had been pounding on a moment ago. “Are you ready to go?”

Y/N rubs her eyes, suppressing a yawn as she does so. “Styles, I have no idea what you’re talking about. What are you doing here?” She demands. She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, she thinks, let alone the mental capacity to listen to anything he has to say.

Harry crosses his arms across his chest, and it’s then that Y/N notices the duffel bag strewn over his shoulder. “It’s a forty-two hour drive from L.A. to the Catskills.” Harry’s eyes scan over Y/N’s appearance, the very corner of his strawberry pink lips twitching, and Y/N tightens her robe around herself with a glare.

“A drive?” Y/N asks, uncertainty growing in her voice as she crosses her arm over her chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Your flight was cancelled, right?” Harry’s voice grows more impatient as Y/N’s half asleep brain struggles to piece together what’s happening. “So was mine, so I decided to drive to the wedding, and then Laure called me last night, begging me to take you with me.” He shrugs a bit, fixing his sunglasses on top of his head as his jade eyes scan over her appearance one more time. “Not my first choice of road trip partner, but I don’t think the best man can say no to bringing the maid of honour. And splitting the cost of gas will be nice.”

“Okay, wait, I…” Y/N’s finally coming out of her fog of exhaustion, and the newfound clarity of her mind is causing a newfound pit to develop in her stomach. “Laure and Jo didn’t tell me any of this.”

“Well, I expect they’re a bit busy, given that they’re getting married in a week.” Harry adjusts the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder with a sharp sigh. “Look, are you ready to go or not? It’s over a five day drive, so we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“I—yeah—” Y/N nods before taking a hesitant step back from the doorway, positioning herself to the side so that Harry can get by her. “I just have to get dressed and grab a couple last minute things, so…come in, I guess.”

Harry flashes an insincere smile to Y/N as he steps into her apartment, his eyes darting around at the furniture and home decor. Y/N watches as his gaze lingers on her library of books, her yellow bicycle leaning against the wall, and every other little touch of herself that she likes her home to have, and she can see the judgement that’s clearly apparent in his eyes.

“You can sit, if you want.” She mutters, turning on her heel to go back to her bedroom. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

The first thing Y/N does when she shuts her bedroom door behind herself is assess the situation in the analytical way that usually calms her. Alright. So a road trip across the country isn’t exactly ideal, and a road trip across the country with Harry Styles is even less ideal. But, at the present moment, being stuck in a car with Harry seems to be the only sure way that she’ll be able to make it to Jo’s wedding on time. And for Jo, Y/N would put up with anything. Even Harry.

As she rummages through her drawers for some leggings and a tank top, Y/N wonders what she could have possibly done to bring this much bad karma into her life. While she gets dressed, her mind flickers back to Murphy’s Law, how everything that can go wrong will go wrong, in the worst possible way, and then she thinks about being in a confined space with Harry for five days, and—yeah. That seems to be the worst possible thing she can think of.

Y/N remembers the first moment she’d met Harry seven years ago, and the unfortunate circumstances under which that meeting had happened. Jo and Laure had just barely met back then, and Jo had begged Y/N to come out on a double date with her and “this really hot girl from my women studies class who I’m, like, 83% sure swings my way.”

Y/N had groaned at that comment, flopping back on her bed in the tiny dorm that she and Jo shared. “No! I have an essay due in three days that I haven’t even started!”

Jo rolled her eyes as she flopped down on Y/N’s bed as well, ignoring her own half-made bunk that was across the small room, favouring her best friend’s bed like she always did. “We both know you’re not starting that essay until the day before it’s due, and that it’s just an excuse because you don’t want to go!”

“I don’t want to go.” Y/N had agreed with a sharp and fervent nod. She shut her laptop and pushed it to the side of her bed, knowing from experience that she wasn’t going to be able to focus and argue at the same time. “Why would I want to hang out with a complete stranger while you make googly eyes at a girl from your class?”

“Okay, first, I don’t make googly eyes.” Jo made a face at that comment, nudging Y/N’s calf with her own foot. “And second, he’s her best friend from high school, and he’s coming to visit all the way from London!”

“So? He’s still a stranger!” Y/N pointed out, her eyes drifting to the sticky note covered novel beside her. She picks it up and begins to flip through the marked pages as she speaks. “Knowing where he’s from doesn’t change that!”

“It should, because he’s only going to be here for a week, and Laure almost cancelled the date because she doesn’t want to miss spending time with him—” Jo grabbed one of Y/N’s pillows and tossed it at her arm, knocking the book from her hands. “Focus! So I said that he could come, but she said that she didn’t want him to be left out, so I said that I happen to have an incredibly beautiful and witty best friend who would be able to entertain Harry while we all hang out together.”

Y/N inhaled deeply as she gave Jo a withering look. “Did you already tell her I’m going?”

Jo, in return, gave Y/N her most dazzling smile. “Yes. We’re meeting them for dinner at 7.”

Y/N shakes herself from her memories as she runs to her bathroom to toss her toiletries back into the bag she’d taken them out of the day before, working as quickly as she can. It does her no good to think of Harry in the past, she thinks, because the present Harry is currently sitting in her living room, probably snooping through her stuff, and the longer she takes to get ready to go, the more he’ll go through. Not that there’s anything incriminating in her apartment, really—or at least, nothing incriminating in her living room. When Y/N makes it back to her bedroom, however, to quickly zip up her suitcase, she does make sure she grabs her favourite vibrator from the box under her bed, tucking it between her half-folded underwear. If she’s going to be gone for a week, she’ll need something to help her relax.

Within a few more minutes, Y/N is repacked and ready to go. Her hunter green bridesmaid dress is carefully arranged on the very top of her clothes in her suitcase, all of her makeup and toiletries are packed inside, and Jo and Laure’s wedding rings are secured in little velvet boxes stashed between her socks. As far as physical preparedness goes, Y/N is ready to go on a coast to coast road trip. As far as mental preparedness goes, however…that’s the thing that Y/N’s not quite sure about.

…

“What are you doing?”

Y/N glances at Harry from the corner of her eye, her hand still half stretched out to the radio dials in his car. Although Harry’s green eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, and his face is turned towards the long road in front of them, he still somehow manages to catch her motions, and it irritates her to no end.

“I’m changing the radio station?” Y/N answers after a moment, giving him a puzzled look. “I don’t know why you listen to this weird oldies station, but—”

“First of all—” Harry’s hands turn the steering wheel slightly to guide his car over the curve of the road, his jaw twitching as a smirk works its way onto his pink lips. “This isn’t a radio station, it’s my Spotify playlist. I put a Bluetooth connection in Stevie a year ago. Secondly—”

“Stevie?” Y/N repeats incredulously, twisting her whole body as best she can to look at Harry straight on. “You named your car? You’re one of those guys?”

Harry finally gives Y/N a flicker of a glance, the glare obvious in his eyes even behind his dark sunglasses. He turns his attention back to the road before replying. “Secondly—” He continues from before, ignoring her comment as his right hand readjusts the gear shift. “Driver picks the music.”

Y/N makes a face, the corners of her lips pulling down into a grimace as she settles back into the passenger seat with her arms crossed. “So we’re just going to listen to ‘Tiny Dancer’ for the entire drive, are we?”

“Not the entire drive, no.” Harry flicks on his turn signal with a ringed hand before shoulder checking to change lanes. Y/N glances at him, her eyes training on the strained muscles in his neck as Harry continues. “We’ll listen to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,’ too.”

“Great.” Y/N exhales slowly and presses her head back into the seat’s headrest, closing her eyes as Elton John’s voice continues to float through the speakers. “Really looking forward to it.”

“You know, maybe you should try to sleep.” Harry says, his voice prickled with irritation as Elton John bleeds into The Zombies. “I think you’ll be in a better mood after you take a nap.”

Y/N readjusts her crossed arms as she mutters a short reply. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Still, she shuts her eyes again, twisting her body towards the window in an attempt to get comfortable enough to sleep. Being in the car with Harry is already giving her a throbbing migraine, and they’ve only been on the road for less than two hours. Sleeping through most of the trip will probably be the only way she’ll be able to survive it.

Despite that realization, however, her phone vibrates in her lap three minutes later, pulling her away from her thoughts. Y/N glances down at the now lit screen, catching her bottom lip between her teeth when she registers the name on the message. Opening her phone quickly, she reads over the reply as a guilty feeling begins to build in her stomach.

BRANT: Hey, what are you doing tonight? Want to grab some dinner?

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” Y/N’s head snaps back up, her eyes jerking in Harry’s direction. Like before, he’s watching her from the corner of his eye, catching every one of her movements, and the constant surveillance is annoying to no end.

Harry, it seems, is either oblivious to her annoyance, or is choosing to ignore it. “I asked what’s wrong. You have a weird look on your face.” Harry’s blunt words are accompanied by the sound of him tapping his ring covered fingers against the gear shift. “Everything alright? Is it Laure and Jo?”

“No, it’s just—” Y/N glances down at her phone again, fingers poised over her keyboard as she crafts a reply in her head. “It’s no one.”

Harry snorts once, a short and harsh sound that grates against Y/N’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “I don’t buy that for a second.”

“It’s no one to you.” Y/N updates her retort, turning her full attention back to her phone. “My personal life is none of your business.”

Y/N: I’m sorry, I can’t!! Caught a last minute ride to New York with somebody. Maybe once I’m back?

“Personal life, huh?” Harry clicks his tongue once, and the childish noise is even more irritating than his snort. “What, you can’t talk to me about whoever you’re shagging?”

The blunt remark hits Y/N like a shot to the chest, and she sputters for a moment as she struggles to form a response. “I—we’re not—” Taking a moment to gather herself and clear her throat quickly, Y/N avoids Harry’s gaze as her cheeks begin to burn. “We’re not like that. We’ve just…had a few dates, that’s all. There’s nothing…official.”

“You don’t need to be official to have a shag, now, do you?” Harry lifts his hand from the gear shift to fix his sunglasses, settling it back down on his jean covered thigh once he’s done. “If you don’t want to date the bloke—”

“I didn’t say that.” Y/N cuts over him, pulling herself from her embarrassment enough to give him a cold glare. “He’s very nice—”

“Boring, you mean—”

“And I—this is none of your business!” Feeling the flush of embarrassment rise back to her cheeks, Y/N once again turns her attention to her passenger seat window, avoiding Harry’s pressing gaze. “I’m done talking about this.”

Harry gives an indifferent shrug. “Whatever.” He says casually, tapping his finger against his thigh as his shoulders once again lift slightly beneath his fitted black t-shirt. “I just feel bad for the guy, that’s all.”

The comment is bait. And the thing is, Y/N knows it’s bait. She knows that the only reason Harry is saying it is to get under her skin and keep her talking about Brant, further embarrassing herself in the process. She’s been around Harry enough to know how he works, and she knows that the only reason he would say that is to bait her. She knows she shouldn’t take it. And yet—

“There’s no reason to feel bad for him.” Y/N scoffs as she fidgets with the position of her seatbelt, trying to stop the strap from cutting into her chest. “We’ve been talking for a month, and there’s nothing official happening. Just because you can’t go that long without trying to stick your dick in someone—”

“You have no idea what I can do, Y/N. Don’t pretend that you do.” Harry’s tone of voice is just as scoffing as hers, his eyes still set on the road in front of them intently as he gives his sharp response. Y/N watches as he shifts the gears of the car and speeds up, just enough to make the engine roar, but not enough to lose control of the car. Part of Y/N wistfully wishes that he would just slip up and crash the car, just so she wouldn’t have to continue this conversation.

“All I meant,” Harry continues, unaware of the dark daydreams running through Y/N’s head. “Is that I feel bad that you’re clearly not interested in him, which is proven by the fact that you haven’t wanted him in your bed.”

Irritation flares through Y/N’s body again, stronger than the embarrassment of discussing her sex life (or lack thereof) with Harry, and she half considers just grabbing the steering wheel and yanking it into a passing cliff so she can finish them off herself. “For Christ’s sake, Harry, sex isn’t the only way to—”

“I don’t mean actually having it, that’s not a given.” Harry rolls his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he slows down for a curve in the road, his practiced hands once again changing gears with ease. “You don’t have to fuck him. But you should want to, especially if you’ve had a month of dates, and you clearly don’t want to.”

Y/N doesn’t hide the incredulous stare of disbelief on her face as she turns to look at him. Harry’s face, though turned towards the road still, has a look of amusement mixed with contemplation on it, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control not to smack the expression off of him. Although there’s the ghost of a smirk on his strawberry coloured lips, his brow is furrowed behind his sunglasses, as if he’s thinking hard about the conversation between them. Normally, Y/N would be amazed that Harry is thinking hard about anything. However, given that their conversation is apparently turning into whether or not she wants to have sex with someone, Y/N’s not too thrilled about his sudden investment and serious contemplation of the topic.

Shaking her head decidedly, Y/N finally spits out a finishing phrase. “You don’t know what I want.” She says decidedly, reaching into the backseat to grab the sweater she stashed back there. She clumsily pulls it over her body without taking off her seatbelt. Harry keeps the AC cranked as high as he can, and she knows that he’ll kill her if she tries to change it. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know more than you think.” Harry counters, the tip of his tongue running along his bottom lip. “And I’m pretty good at reading body language. You don’t really want him. He—what’s his name?”

Despite her better judgement, Y/N answers in a flat voice. “Brant.”

The corners of Harry’s cherry lip twitches. “Brant. Yeah. It’s clear you don’t really want him, and you’re wasting your time. You’re wasting his time, too. Poor Brant.”

“Poor—you’re such an ass, you know that?” Y/N’s irritation bubbles over as she gives Harry a nasty look, her hand squeezing her thigh hard in an attempt to ground herself in their conversation. “You can try to pretend otherwise, but you don’t know anything about me, or him, so—”

“You think I’ve been friends with Laure and Jo this long and haven’t learned anything about you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, risking a glance at her as he presses a heavier foot onto the gas. “I told you, I know more than you think, and that includes your type.”

An incredulous scoff leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she shakes her head in obvious disbelief before responding. “My type. Right. What is my type, then? What’s Brant like, exactly, since you seem to know everything?”

Harry goes quiet then, his brow furrowing again as he returns his full attention to the road. With his incessant chatter gone, the only sounds in the car being “Maps” playing quietly in the background and Harry’s ringed index and forefinger tap on the steering wheel. Y/N breathes out a long sigh of satisfaction as she relaxes back in her seat, her attention turned back to the blurred landscapes speeding by her window. Finally, she’s managed to get Harry to stop with his ridiculous assumptions—

“You like someone that’s stable and secure, so he probably works in some corporation, or an office job. Majored in business, I’d think, but has a minor in something like mathematics.” The side profile of Harry’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the thought. “He wants to work his way up in the company, but never wants to actually start anything on his own. He likes the stability of a blueprint. You’re obsessed with punctuality, so he’s probably always on time to pick you up for dates—and he has to pick you up, because you don’t drive—and your dates are never really dates. Dinners, or movies, or something like that, but they never really have that spark.” Harry’s shoulder lift slightly as he continues to make his conclusions. “Which, honestly, is probably a big reason in why you don’t want to fuck him, because as much as you like stability and safety, you also like the idea of a grand gesture, or something like that. And you probably split the bill a lot at dinner, right? Because it just seems fair, but really it’s because you know it’s not a real date. But it passes the time, and he’s nice, so it’s fine. But it’s only fine.” Harry licks his lips once more as he collects his next thoughts, his teeth catching his bottom lip just barely as his tongue retreats back into his mouth. “And he’s probably already talking about you coming to meet his family for some holiday. Not in a romantic way, but just because he likes to plan everything in advance to every minute detail. Just like you.”

Halfway through Harry’s speech, a flush had begun to creep up Y/N’s neck, continuing to warm her jaw and ears before settling on the apples of her cheeks. She keeps her eyes trained on her window and her mouth pressed into a tight line, refusing to look at Harry and give him any hint of just how shocked she is that he’s guessed so much.

Harry, however, doesn’t plan on letting her get away from his inquisition. “Well?” He impatiently prompts after a moment, and even though she’s not looking at him, she can feel him looking at her, his emerald irises burning into the back of her head. “Am I right?”

“I—” Y/N clears her throat quickly, but her voice is still strained and tight when she replies. “No.”

Harry hums low in his throat, and his voice is laced with curiosity with he replies. “Really?” The irritating tap of his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music continues. “What did I get wrong?”

“He—” Y/N hates the way her skin is burning from his interrogation, how her voice shrinks smaller and smaller the more she speaks. If Harry knows her so well, then he knows how much she loves being in control, and in this situation, with Harry managing to pull every one of her most secret inner thoughts and feelings out of her without trouble, she feels anything but in control. “He has a minor in accounting, not mathematics.”

The laugh that leaves Harry’s mouth is loud and bombastic, and his whole body curves over the steering wheel as the sound rolls out of him, his eyes just barely managing to stay on the road while his sunglasses slide down his nose. “Right.” Harry says between belly laughs, his voice stretched out in amusement. “But everything else was spot on?”

Y/N keeps her stiff body turned towards the window, refusing to engage in the conversation any further. That doesn’t stop Harry, however, who fixes his sunglasses as chuckles continue to roll out of him.

“I take it back. Maybe he’s the one wasting your time.” His hand runs through his hair lazily, fixing the curled strands that had fallen into his eyes as he laughed. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to sleep with your bore of a boyfriend—”

“He’s stable!” Y/N breaks her silence to protest Harry’s words, her voice heated. “And he’s not my boyfriend. We’ve been seeing each other, but we’re not—it’s not exclusive, or—nothing serious—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s fine.” Harry waves off her arguments with a flick of his tattooed hand. “Besides, like you said, it’s none of my business, right?”

Y/N can practically picture what Harry looks like in this moment. His chestnut curls are probably a mess from fidgeting with them, and his cheeks are most likely rosy beneath his stubble from the peels of laughter that left his equally red lips a moment ago. Most infuriatingly of all, his dimples are probably present, making little indentations in his cheeks to show how entertaining he’s found embarrassing her. Bastard, she thinks, clenching her fists so hard that her nails dig into her palms, pressing them into her sides beneath her makeshift blanket.

She refuses to let herself confirm if her suspicions about Harry’s appearance are correct, and instead keeps her gaze on the blurred trees whipping by outside her window. “Right.” She mutters, leaning her head against the headrest as she closes her eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

…

As soon as the paint-peeled door to the motel room swings open, Y/N knows that she’s not going to be sleeping soundly tonight.

She’s not sure what her first hint should have been. Perhaps it was the half-flickering blue and red light of the Motel 6 sign that should have tipped her off, or the front-desk attendant who looked as though he was hiding a few secrets himself. When Y/N and Harry had first approached the front desk of the tiny, vaguely mildew-smelling lobby, their clothes rumpled from the drive and their attitudes just as bothered, the employee in the Motel 6 uniform had barely raised an eye at them, not bothering to look up from his computer until Y/N and Harry were directly in front of him.

“Hi.” Harry had said, his voice taking on a cautious but polite tone that, Y/N remembers thinking, she would have appreciated hearing throughout their eight hour drive that day. “We’d like two rooms, please—”

“Here.” The attendant’s gum snapped in his mouth as he reached behind himself and grabbed an old key with a flimsy blue plastic tag from a wall of empty pegs. “Queen sized bed, the first door on the left. It’ll do you two nicely.”

“Um, no.” Harry cleared his throat loudly as he gave a slight shake of his head. “We need two rooms.”

Finally, the attendant looked towards them, his eyes scanning Harry before Y/N. The latter had self consciously pulled her sweater around her, as there was something in the attendant’s eyes that had bothered her. “Don’t have two rooms. I got one room left. Everything else is booked.”

Harry had glanced at Y/N then, and she knew that his thoughts mirrored hers: there was no way that they’d share a queen bed together. No way in hell. They’d barely survived eight hours in the same cramped car without one of them driving them off a cliff. If Y/N had to share a bed with Harry, even for just one night, she’d probably end up smothering him in his sleep before the first snore left his obnoxious mouth.

“That’s really not an option.” Y/N had stepped forward then, crossing her arms around herself as the attendant’s eyes canvassed her again. “Isn’t there something—”

“Look, lady, I’m telling you what’s available.” The attendant’s eyes continued to flicker between her face and her chest, making Y/N’s skin crawl more and more with every word that fell from his gum-filled mouth. “The room might have a pull out chair—some do, but I couldn’t tell you which. Now do you want to share the room with him or not? If you don’t want to share, then I could try to find something else for just you—”

Before Y/N had the opportunity to respond to the lewd suggestion, Harry was already stepping forward, his body angling protectively in front of her own. She watched from behind as his broad shoulders squared beneath his black t-shirt, his shoulder blades flexing as he straightened up to his full height. When Harry answered, his voice was just as firm as it was dark, lacking its previous polite tone.

“We’ll take the room.” He had said coldly, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet before tossing a few bills on the front desk. “Thanks for the help.”

Yes, Y/N thinks, all of that should have been a sign for the state of the motel room that they now find themselves standing inside.

The same mildew smell from the lobby surrounds them, permeating through every inch of air that Y/N breathes in. Dust seems to coat every surface as well, with thick layers of it covering the decades old TV and stand, the small coffee table, and the ledge of the window to her right. To her relief, there is a small arm chair in the corner, which must be the pull out that the attendant had mentioned. However, her relief is short lived when she sees the ratty beige comforter on the bed, and wonders if maybe sleeping in Harry’s car, which she had sworn to him that she didn’t want to do, might have been the better choice.

Harry shuts the door behind them with a firm thud, turning the deadbolt lock before attaching the chain from the door to the door frame. “Let’s keep that locked, yeah?” He mutters, walking to the window and making sure the beige curtains—everything in the room is a sea of beige, like some sort of khaki coloured nightmare—are pulled closed tightly. “I don’t trust that front-desk prick not to sneak in here.”

Y/N nods, fixing the strap of her duffel bag with her overnight clothes on her shoulder. She’s not quite sure where to set it down, as everything around them seems to have been sitting stagnant and uncleaned for a while. “Yeah. Thanks, by the way. For that.”

Harry acknowledges her thanks with a small grunt, barely lifting his head to look at her. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Despite her gratitude for his actions, Y/N can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at his gruff response. “Jesus, can you not just say you’re welcome?”

Harry chooses to ignore her comment, and instead sets his bag down on the arm chair, unzipping it roughly. “You can take the bed.” He says simply, tossing his sunglasses into his bag before pulling out a small bag filled with what Y/N assumes are toiletries. “I’ll take the pullout.”

“Fine.” Y/N reluctantly sets her own bag down on the creaking bed, pulling back the covers to check for anything unsightly. To her relief, the interior of the bed looks cleaner than the exterior, and she returns the covers to their previous position before grabbing her phone charger from her duffel.

Harry glances at her as she gingerly sits on the bed and plugs her phone into the wall. “I’m going to shower.” He says slowly, as if gauging her reaction to the simple phrase. “Do you, um, need in there, or—?”

“Nope.” Y/N shakes her head, her cheeks flushing slightly as she checks her messages. “You’re good.” She keeps her eyes glued to her phone until she hears the click of the bathroom door behind Harry, signalling that she’s alone.

Taking advantage of what she knows will be a rare moment of solitude over the next week, Y/N changes from her tank top and leggings into her pajamas, wishing that her past self had realized how likely it would be that she’d be sharing a room with Harry. She’d brought exactly two pairs of pajamas with her on the trip, and neither pairs were something she wanted Harry to see her in. The first pair, a baby pink silk set she’d bought on a whim from her favourite lingerie shop, is eliminated before Y/N even considers them, leaving her with just her usual casual pajamas. Unfortunately, Y/N’s usual casual pajamas consist of an old sports bra that she’d had since moving to L.A., and a pair of men’s boxers that she stole from an ex in college. Still, despite her hesitancy, she knows that plaid boxers and a faded grey sports bra are better than pink silk and lace, and she changes into them quickly before sitting cross-legged on the bed and dialing Jo’s number.

Jo, like she usually does, answers on the third ring, her voice extra chipper to compensate for the verbal lecture that she knows is coming. “Hey, Y/N! How was driving today?”

“It would have been better if I’d known Harry was driving.” Y/N sighs, rubbing her palm over the cold skin of her exposed thigh. “Shouldn’t I have been informed of that decision?”

“It completely slipped my mind, actually.” Jo says casually, and Y/N can just picture her leaning her chin into her palm. “How was the first day? Are you calling to ask me to help bury his body in the desert? Because, like, you know I would in a heart beat, but I think it may put a damper on mine and Laure’s nuptials if my best friend murders her best friend.”

“No one’s been murdered. Yet.” Y/N glances at the bathroom door, the sound of the shower echoing through the vents and into the bedroom. “Although a ‘help me hide the body’ phone call may be coming soon.”

“Uh oh.” Y/N hears something crackling against the speaker, and pictures Jo shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “Is it that bad?”

Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose as she contemplates the easiest way to answer Jo’s question. “He’s such an irritating ass. He really is.” She lowers her voice, but only slightly. If Harry’s eavesdropping, she thinks, then let him hear. It would serve him right. “He wanted to pick a fight over every little thing, and he’s so particular about his car—did you know he named it? He named it, Jo. He talks about it like it’s a person!”

A loud sigh echoes through the speaker. “That’s really not that weird, you know.” Jo replies in her best peace keeping voice. “And, by the way, did you know that you’re really the only person who finds Harry irritating? Laure adores him, and I really like him, and everyone who meets him thinks he’s very thoughtful!”

“Then they haven’t been trapped in a car with him and his playlists for eight hours.” Y/N begins to tap her fingers against her knee in a quick staccato pattern. “He practically interrogated me about Brant today, as if he has any clue about the people I date.”

“Did he?” There’s a trace of curiosity in Jo’s voice now, and Y/N can imagine her leaning forward in interest. “What did he say?”

“He said he thinks he’s boring.” Twisting a lock of her hair behind her ear as she speaks, Y/N leaves her hand resting against her cheek. “He was rude about it, too. I didn’t ask for his opinion.”

“Well, honestly, Y/N…” Jo’s curiosity twists into hesitation. “Brant isn’t exactly the most thrilling person. You know that.”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks flushing for what seems to be the millionth time that day. “I’m aware of that. But he didn’t need to be so smug about it!”

“Okay, well, what’s done is done.” Jo says as she takes on her mediator persona once again. “So there’s nothing else to do now except go to sleep, get back in the car tomorrow, and continue driving.”

The sound of the shower stream cuts off, leaving just the pitter patter of rain beginning to hit the roof of the motel as ambiant noise. “I guess.” Y/N mumbles, fidgeting with the waistband of her bra. “I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After the line clicks dead, Y/N flops back on the squeaking mattress and begins to scroll through her phone, opening her work email to check if everything is running okay back home while she’s gone. On top of all this, the last thing she needs is for her work to completely blow up in her absence. Within minutes, Y/N becomes so engrossed in her phone that she doesn’t even notice the bathroom door creaking open and Harry walking out with just a towel around his waist.

Until she looks up, and then her mind goes completely blank.

Immediately, Y/N feels overstimulated. There’s just…so much going on that she doesn’t even know where to look first, let alone have the ability to remind herself that she shouldn’t even be looking at Harry like this in the first place.

Harry’s curls are soaking wet, curling down around his flushed cheeks in a way that, if it were anyone else, she’d immediately describe as attractive. Droplets of water are clinging to every inch of his skin, his toned and tanned and tattooed skin, that seems to continue forever as her eyes travel down his bare chest, noticing every curve of his muscle. His jade cross, which is almost the exact shade of his eyes, sits between his pronounced pectoral muscles, moving ever so slightly with each step he takes. Y/N notices tattoos she’s never seen before, like the giant butterfly across his toned stomach, and—her mind goes blank for just a moment—two vines that are tattooed over his prominent pelvic muscles, which just barely dip beneath the white towel that’s wrapped loosely around his hips.

As Y/N’s eyes glue themselves to the way Harry’s towel is moving as he walks, arousal begins to pool in her stomach, travelling all the way down to her core and back again. For a split second, she thinks that maybe Harry is right. Maybe she doesn’t want to fuck Brant, because she knows for certain that she’s never thought about him the way she’s thinking about Harry in this moment.

But it’s Harry, she reminds herself, as she tries to force herself to snap her gaping mouth closed. Underneath all those muscles and tattoos—and there are a lot of muscles and tattoos—it’s Harry, who annoys her to no end, who is one of the most self-absorbed individuals she’s ever met, and who has had it out for her since the day they met.

“Sorry.” Harry’s low accent snaps Y/N from her thoughts and pulls her wandering eyes back to his face. “Forgot my clothes out here.”

“It’s—” Y/N’s voice cracks in the middle of the word, still hyper-focused on just how it’s possible for one person to be as attractive as they are irritating, and she clears her throat before trying to speak again. “It’s fine.”

If Harry notices the slip in Y/N’s voice, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just walks to his open bag, locking one hand firmly over his towel as the other searches through his clothes. He pulls out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, examining them for just a moment before nodding in satisfaction and heading back to the bathroom. Y/N almost swears that she sees him glance at her one last time before he shuts the door, but then she gets lost in the taut muscles of his back, and forgets what she’s thinking entirely.

She’s only just begun to contemplate that maybe she should pull herself together when the door opens again, and Harry exits the bathroom in a way that’s a little more presentable. His hair is still damp, but his body is dry, proven by the faded Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s now clinging to his arms and the boxers that are hanging low on his hips. His tattooed hips. His incredibly sexy tattooed hips that could probably—

“What are you wearing?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow at her as he moves his bag from the chair to the ground. He begins to unfold the bed from the armchair cushions to reveal a creaking twin bed, carefully stretching it out as he waits for an answer.

“I—pajamas.” Y/N glances down at herself self consciously, fixing the strap of her sports bra as she does so. “I just—I didn’t think we’d be sharing a room, so…”

Harry nods tersely as he finishes setting up the bed, his expression unreadable while he walks to the closet and grabs a set of sheets and a blanket. “Cute boxers.” He says casually. “Are they Brant’s?”

Within a flash, the intense rush of attraction and desire Y/N had been feeling is gone, and is instead replaced by the familiar irritation as she watches a smirk grow in the very corner of Harry’s mouth. “No.” She says flatly, turning her attention back to her phone.

“Interesting.” Harry says slowly, laying the sheets and blanket on the bed in a haphazard manner. “Whose are they, then?”

Y/N gets up from the bed and grabs her toiletry bag from her duffel before answering. “An ex.” She says shortly, tucking the patterned bag under her arm. “And why does it matter to you?”

The sound of the rain against the roof and windows gets louder and louder as they speak, and Harry raises his voice to be heard over the precipitation. “It doesn’t.” He shrugs as he maneuvers his lanky body under the blanket without causing the bed to fold in on itself. “Just curious, that’s all.”

“Well, you don’t need to be curious.” Y/N opens the bathroom door, sparing one last withering glance at Harry over her shoulder. He’s sitting up on the bed with one leg hanging out from beneath the covers as one hand plays with his hair, the other fiddles with a ring on his finger, and the way he looks at her from the corner of his eye lights a fire in Y/N’s chest. Except she can’t tell if it’s a fire of anger or arousal.

When she slams the door behind her, it’s her own confusion over that distinction that frustrates her more than anything else.

…

“Took you long enough.” Harry scoffs while leaning against the side of his car, his white t-shirt a contrast to the dust covered body of the black Chevy Impala. His dark sunglasses are perched on top of his head, keeping his unruly curls out of his eyes, while his arms are crossed over his chest impatiently as he waits for an answer. “I dropped off the keys ten minutes ago.”

By way of explanation, Y/N holds up the cardboard drink tray in her hands, a brown bag balancing in between the two coffee cups. “I was getting us breakfast, Styles. Calm down.” She walks to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and climbing in one handed. “I figured you’d be even crabbier hungry.”

“You mean you’d be crabbier without caffeine.” Harry retorts, climbing into the driver’s side in one smooth motion. “Here—” He takes the tray from her so she can buckle her seatbelt, carefully removing the two coffees and setting them in the cup holders between them. “Just be careful not to spill anything.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she picks up the coffee closest to her (she’d gotten them both black). “Why? Worried about me ruining Stevie?”

Harry reaches into his pocket, pulling out his keys as he gives her an irritated look. “Yes, actually. I’ve put a lot of work into her.” The car roars to life as Harry turns the key in the ignition, buckling his own seat as the motor warms up. “Adding on two thousand miles to her in five days is already worrisome enough, and that’s not even counting the other two thousand she’ll get on the way back.”

Y/N doesn’t respond to the comment, and instead lets the sound of Harry’s playlist fill the silence of the car as Harry peels out of the Motel 6 parking lot. She’ll be glad to leave that place behind, she thinks, and focus on finding something better—and more private—for tonight, wherever they end up.

Harry, however, doesn’t seem content with letting silence fall between them. “How did you sleep last night?” He asks after a few moments, one hand on the steering wheel as he takes a sip of his coffee.

Glancing at him from the corner of her eye suspiciously, Y/N reaches into the paper bag and grabs her Danish, taking a small bite before answering. “Not great.”

“Was the bed bad?” Harry asks curiously, his brow furrowing while his eyes stay glued to the road, moving only to glance at the occasion sign directing him back to the highway. “The pull out wasn’t great, but I’ve slept on worse. I would’ve thought the bed would be better than that.”

“No, it—I mean, the bed wasn’t amazing, but it—” Y/N clears her throat and swallows the bite of pastry in her mouth. “I, uh, I don’t sleep well when it’s raining.”

At this new information, Harry’s eyebrow quirks up, and he risks a look in her direction to attempt to read her face. Y/N’s own eyes are focused on the Danish in her hands, refusing to meet his gaze as she lifts the pastry to her mouth to take another bite.

“You don’t?” Harry asks after a moment, the confusion in his voice almost visible within the space between them. “But it’s like white noise, isn’t it? Supposed to be relaxing, and all that.”

Y/N gives a half shrug of her shoulders. “It’s—well, it’s not the rain, exactly, just—what it’s usually paired with.” Y/N hopes that her clear hesitancy to answer will be enough of a signal to Harry for him to drop the subject. Harry, however, doesn’t seem to pick up on the reluctance in Y/N’s voice; or, at least, he doesn’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“What do you mean, what it’s paired with?” Harry takes a small sip of his own coffee, careful of the temperature of the liquid. “Like…wind, or—?”

Y/N debates back and forth with herself internally, but she knows that Harry won’t drop the subject without getting a satisfying answer. “Thunder.” She answers finally, setting her coffee down in her cup holder before turning her gaze towards her window. “I don’t like thunderstorms, ever since I was a little kid, and when it’s raining, it always feels like thunder is around the corner. Puts me on edge, like I’m waiting for it. And I can’t sleep.”

“So you never sleep when it rains?” Harry asks slowly, and the tone of incredulous disbelief in Harry’s voice is enough for Y/N to be able to imagine the expression on his face. His forest green eyes wide, strawberry pink lips agape, brow furrowed in confusion, his jaw slack as he contemplates a response to a grown woman admitting that she’s afraid of thunder. The image in her head is enough to make the back of her neck flush.

There’s a tightness in the back of her throat, and Y/N attempts to clear it again before answering. “Never.”

“Huh.” Harry taps his fingers against the gear shift in succession three times. “You’d hate London, then.”

The casual comment catches Y/N by surprise, but she doesn’t allow herself to lower her guard. “That’s why I don’t live in London.” She mumbles the words as her fingers pick at the napkin wrapped around her Danish. “I picked L.A. for a reason. It has lots of heat, barely any rain, and I’m reasonably close to Disneyland whenever I feel like I need something magical.” The last part slips out without Y/N thinking, and the flush creeps further up her neck as a surprised laugh leaves Harry’s mouth.

“Something magical?” Harry repeats, new crinkles appearing next to his eyes as he laughs, as if the dimples that crease his cheeks aren’t proof of his amusement enough. “Do you frequently feel like you need something magical?”

It’s Y/N’s turn to give an incredulous look now, her body half twisting towards Harry to observe his confusing reactions. “How did I just admit that I’m afraid of thunder, and the thing you’re focusing on is that I like Disney?”

Harry shrugs at her words, flicking on his turn signal to exit towards the highway. “I don’t know.” He says as he peers over his shoulder to check for oncoming cars. “I mean, everyone has fears. Not liking thunder isn’t exactly uncommon, you know. However, hearing that Ms. Serious Type A Perfectionist likes magic—” His grin grows bigger by the second. “Now that’s surprising.”

“Oh, shut up.” Y/N mutters, finishing her Danish in a few more bites. She waits until she’s entirely finished chewing before continuing the conversation over the voice of Billy Joel coming through the speakers. “Since I’ve admitted something I’m afraid of…” She starts, glancing at Harry from the corner of her eye. “I think it’s only fair that you admit something, too.”

Harry snorts in response, his hand freezing its movement with his coffee cup still half lifted to his lips. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N hums as she slips off her shoes in order to pull her legs beneath her to fold into a cross-legged position on the car seat. “Not so much fun when it’s your turn, huh? C’mon, what’s the Brit scared of? Not enough biscuits for afternoon tea?”

A short and harsh breath of air leaves Harry’s nose, half a snort as he sets his coffee down in his cupholder. “No, actually, diminishing biscuit levels are a low level fear for me.”

“Then what’s a higher one?” Y/N prods, watching as Harry’s neck muscles tense as he shoulder checks to change lanes. There’s something about the movement that catches her eye, but she can’t quite figure out why—or rather, she can, but she’d rather pretend that she’s unaware.

“Uh…” Harry’s fingers nimbly switch on his turn signal before he transitions to the left lane, his right hand moving the gear shift to its desired place. “Crowds. I’m not a fan of big crowds, really. Like when everyone’s pressed together, so tight that you can’t breathe, and you can’t hear yourself think because it’s so loud…yeah. I don’t like that.”

The simple answer surprises Y/N as much as she imagines her answer surprised Harry. “Crowds?” She repeats back to him, a forgotten memory of long gone conversations coming to the forefront of her mind. “But what about, like, concerts and stuff? Laure always told me when she’d go to shows with you…”

“That’s different.” Harry shrugs as one of his ringed hands comes to his lips, rubbing over them slowly as he contemplates his next words. “I…When I’m at concerts, I always go with someone, and if we’re in the general seating area, where there’s a lot of people, I always stick with them. Like, sometimes, if it’s getting crowded, or people are pushing, Laure will hold my hand, so…” Redness begins to creep up Harry’s pale neck, staining the tops of his ears a deep berry colour as he trails off.

Not for the first time since their conversation began, Y/N is surprised at how candid they’re being with each other. As she watches Harry’s blush grow, she feels her own diminish, a physical representation of her trading her embarrassment for something more empathetic.

“I get it.” Y/N says after a moment, once it’s clear that Harry isn’t going to continue. “When there’s thunderstorms, um, I feel better when I’m with someone, or talking to someone. It makes me feel less…”

“Alone?” Harry finishes for her, his eyes flickering from the road to her profile. His green irises capture hers for longer than they should, his focus completely gone from the stretch of highway for at least five seconds before Harry’s attention turns back to driving. “Yeah.” He says slowly, pulling his sunglasses down from his hair to hide his eyes. “Yeah, less alone. It helps.”

Y/N nods slowly, unable to look away from Harry’s side profile. It’s apparent that he’s on edge after their conversation, and she knows her body language is the same. Tight in the shoulders, hands clenched, back rigidly straight. And yet, seeing her own body language reflected in front of her bothers her. Part of her wants to reach out and take Harry’s hand, soothe him like Laure does in the crowd of a concert, but she knows that’s ridiculous. It’s ridiculous, and it’s Harry, and Harry, of all people, does not need her comfort. Not in the slightest.

She watches as Harry clenches his fist on top of his thigh.

…

“Is this really necessary?” Y/N asks, slamming her car door shut as Harry does the same on the other side of the vehicle. She leans over the roof of the car, crossing her arms on the cool metal as she tilts her head to the side in an inquisitive manner. The clouds in the sky are getting darker by the minute, signalling the beginning of the storm that canceled her flight, and the angry black colour above their heads is making Y/N anxious.

Harry, however, seems unbothered by the gathering storm, and nods tersely as he pushes his sunglasses up onto his head before opening the door to the backseat and grabbing his army green jacket. “Of course it’s necessary.” He says, slipping the jacket over his broad shoulders before slamming the door shut and locking the car. “I’ve never been to Utah before. I want a souvenir.”

“Okay, but—” Y/N follows Harry as he walks towards the dilapidated building in front of them. “Here? Really? Does this seem like the best place?”

Harry glances at her over his shoulder at her, pausing his long strides to look up at the building he spotted from the highway. If the chipped grey paint that was once pastel blue and dust-coated windows are any sign, the structure is probably older than Harry and Y/N combined, with a splintered front porch wrapping around its small perimeter. The building has one faded sign above the door that reads “SOUVENIRS/SNACKS” in hand-painted capital letters, and seems to be hanging onto the outside façade by three small bolts and sheer willpower. Y/N’s almost certain that she’s seen this exact building in a horror movie before someone gets murdered, and while getting back into the car with Harry isn’t at the top of her list of wants, it’s certainly preferable to getting stabbed to death by a serial killer.

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Harry waves off her concern without a second thought about the appearance of the shop. “If you’re really bothered, you can wait in the car.”

Y/N considers it for a moment, but decides against it. She needs to stretch her legs, and honestly, Harry seems too trusting. He probably wouldn’t be able to tell if someone was sketchy until their knife was in his back. And, seeing as how he has the keys to the only getaway car available, Y/N kind of needs him around without a stab wound carved into his flesh.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She sighs, pulling her own jacket around her tighter as she steps over the worn wooden steps to the door. “We’re on a schedule.”

When Harry pushes open the door, the smell of stale air hits Y/N before anything else. Despite one open window and a fan in the corner of the shop that’s being used in a weak attempt to circulate the air, it feels like nothing fresh has been in the shop for a while. Y/N shoots a glance at Harry, caution and warning written all over her face.

While Harry sees her glance, he waves off her concern, turning his attention to the few shelves and wire racks around the small shop that are lined with inventory. Within a few moments, he’s entertaining himself in the post card section, comparing different photos of the Utah landscape to each other with great care and concern. Y/N observes him for a few moments before wandering off on her own towards the snack section of the shop. Although there are a few items that she thinks about picking up, the thick layer of dust over the packaging puts her off from purchasing them. She grimaces as she continues walking, stopping in front of a tower of silver key chains in the back corner of the shop. Most of them, she finds, are crosses and bible verses, and all of them give her an ominous feeling in her stomach. Y/N runs her finger over a miniature silver version of the Ten Commandments, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she does so.

“I think we should go, Harry.” She calls to him without turning around, setting the key chain back down on the rack carefully. “Just pick your post card and—Harry?”

When Y/N turns around, Harry’s broad figure is nowhere to be seen. She walks back over to the post card section slowly, her brow furrowed with confusion as a knot tightens in her stomach. Where could he be? She wonders, running her hand along the dusty wire rack in front of her. It’s not like there’s anywhere for him to go in the small shop, and she would have heard if he left, or if he drove away.

“Harry?” She calls again, her steps slower now as worry fills her voice. “Where did you—fuck—!” Y/N screams as something grabs her from behind, its fingers digging into her sides harshly. She whips around to find Harry standing over her, loud outbursts of laughter spilling from his strawberry pink mouth at the look on her face.

An indignant flush rushes over Y/N’s face. “You’re such an ass!” She hisses, gripping his shoulders and shoving his laughing frame away from her. “I swear, you’re like a five year old—”

“Did I worry you?” Harry snickers between his words, a wicked look of mischief alight in his dark green eyes. “Were you afraid something happened to me?”

Y/N’s cheeks burn with anger as she turns away from him, crossing her arms defiantly. “No. I wish something had happened to you. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your immature antics.”

Harry’s lips stay quirked up in a smirk as he follows her, his voice falling into a singsong tone. “You were worried.” He insists, chuckles still rolling out of him every few moments. “I could tell.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Y/N snaps at him in an irritated voice. “Just pay for your stupid post card and let’s go.”

“I already did. There’s a sign on the desk saying the clerk is out for lunch, so I left some money.” Harry nods to the small desk in the corner with a few dollars left tucked under the dusty service bell. “I think that’ll cover it, yeah?”

“Whatever.” Y/N can’t resist shoving Harry one last time before walking towards the shop door. “That’s enough. Let’s go. I want to make it to the motel before the storm hits.”

…

The nice thing about Grand Junction, Colorado, Y/N realizes, is that their motels have multiple single rooms available on short notice. While she didn’t realize the importance of this fact before this trip started, having an evening of solitude and her own stable space away from Harry for the first time in two days is nothing short of a blessing.

When she gets inside her private motel room, which, while still shabby, is leagues above their previous motel, Y/N locks the door before breathing a sigh of relief. Just the silence in the room is wonderful, and even though she knows Harry is right next door, having a wall between them is a luxury that she doesn’t take for granted. When she showers, she doesn’t have to worry about being quick, or toweling off as fast as she can so she can get dressed inside the bathroom without Harry seeing. There’s no need to worry about anyone hearing Y/N sing quietly to herself under the (albeit weak) stream of the shower, nor is there an uncomfortable stick of her sports bra to her back caused by water droplets that she couldn’t reach in her hurry to dry off. And after her shower, with some of the knots from her back finally worked out, Y/N is able to stretch out on the double bed in the center of the room, her phone in her hand as she reaches for the takeout menus stacked on the bedside table. She peruses the menus available before settling on Chinese takeout, and within five minutes, her order of a two entrée plate and fried rice is on its way.

Y/N sighs gently as she leans back on the pillows, wishing that she and Harry had stopped at a liquor store before coming to the motel. She knows she could probably walk to one, but now that she’s showered and comfortable, the last thing she wants to do is wander around Grand Junction until she finds a bottle of Moscato. Instead, Y/N flicks on the TV with a click of the ancient remote, and begins scrolling through the channels until she finds a rerun of Dirty Dancing that’s just starting.

An amused yet wry smile appears on Y/N’s lips. It’s this movie’s fault that she and Harry are on an impromptu road trip, really. Jo and Laure both loved it, and were insistent that they had to get married at a resort in the Catskills similar to one from the film. As her two friends cross her mind, Y/N settles into the sheets as Baby begins her narration, contemplating whether or not she should call Jo to check in. Just as the thought pops into her head, however, the phone rings.

Y/N answers within a moment, not bothering to check the caller ID. She and Jo had a strange habit of calling each other the moment the other thought of it, and when she raises her phone to her ear, she expects to hear her best friend’s familiar voice reply. “Hello?”

What voice she actually hears, however, surprises her. “Hey, Y/N. I’m glad I got through.” Brant says easily, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “How are you?”

“Brant!” Y/N jerks up in bed in surprise, the remote falling from its perch on her stomach onto the sheets. “I—I’m fine. How are you?”

“Oh, alright. Just busy with work, but that’s the usual.” Y/N can practically picture the neutral expression on his face, and how he’d shrug his shoulders as he speaks. “How’s the road trip? I can’t imagine driving for as long as you have to drive.”

“It’s…it’s alright, yeah.” Y/N speaks slowly as she puts her phone on speaker, balancing it on her knee while her hands begin to fidget with her rings. “Long, but not too bad.”

“Well, that’s good.” Brant clears his throat thickly, as if what he’s about to say makes him uncomfortable. “I miss you, though. And our weekly dinners.”

A feeling of guilt washes over Y/N. Truthfully, besides Harry’s inquisition on the first day of driving, Brant has barely crossed her mind. Granted, he isn’t usually at the forefront of her mind while she’s in L.A., either, but for the last few days, her thoughts have been constantly consumed by the stress of making it to the wedding and her annoyance and frustration with Harry.

“Y/N?” Brant’s voice crackles through her speaker again. “Are you there?

“I—yeah.” She says quickly, pulling herself from her thoughts. “Sorry, just—long day. I’m tired.”

“I can imagine.” Brant says sympathetically, but there’s something in his tone that almost sounds patronizing. “Who are you driving with? Have you been taking turns?”

Y/N pauses the fidgeting of her rings before snatching her phone from its balanced place on her knee. She quickly opens her messages and scrolls to her thread with Brant, searching through the text bubbles for a reminder of what she’d said to him. Had she not told him that she was traveling with Harry?

Within a moment, Y/N confirms that she hadn’t. All she had said was that she was getting a ride with someone. Why had she done that, she wonders? She’s sure she’s mentioned Harry in passing to Brant at least once. When she talked about the wedding, probably. As she thinks about it more, however…what had she told Brant about the wedding? About Jo? How much does he actually know about her personal life? Most of their dinner conversations revolve around work, or some book both of them have read. Had the topic ever come up in detail?

“I’m, um, I’m driving with one of Laure’s friends.” Y/N brings the phone closer to her mouth as her other hand works its way to her mouth. She begins to chew on a hangnail absentmindedly between her words, something she always does when her nerves begin to get to her. She can’t count the number of times Jo has grasped her wrist and pulled her hand from her mouth to chastise her about the habit. “We’re…we’re in Colorado now.”

“Oh, Colorado. That’s nice.” Brant says over the rustling of papers. “Listen, Y/N, I’ve got some work to get back to, but I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll call you again soon.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll talk to you later.” Y/N nods, and then the line goes dead. Out of curiosity, Y/N checks the length of the call. The time 3:09 blinks back at her.

Tossing her phone back down on the covers, Y/N resumes her relaxed position in bed, despite being anything but relaxed after that phone call. She should feel guilty, she thinks, for not telling Brant about Harry. But then again, what’s there to tell? She said she was getting a ride with one of Laure’s friends, and that’s true. She hadn’t lied. And even if Brant did know that the friend is Harry, why would he care? It’s just Harry. There’s no reason for Brant to be alarmed, because there’s nothing going on. And she and Brant…Y/N glances down at the call time again. Things are different between them. There’s…they’re comfortable as they are, she thinks. They’re not dating, and they’re comfortable like that. So there’s no reason to tell him about Harry, because there’s nothing to tell. Nothing at all.

Y/N refocuses on the TV screen, where Patrick Swayze is dancing in a tight black tank top. Right. Nothing to tell.

…

When Y/N leaves her motel room the next morning with her bag over her shoulder, Harry is already waiting by his car, leaning against the dusty black body with two coffee cups in his hands. He’s dressed in another black t-shirt (Y/N wonders just how many identical copies of the same shirt Harry has) with usual jeans covering his long legs. His curls are tied out of his face with a dark green bandana, and Y/N knows that if his eyes weren’t covered with his black sunglasses, the bandana would make them even brighter than they usually are.

“Hey.” Harry calls to her, extending a ringed hand that holds a coffee cup towards her as she walks over. “I got the coffee this morning. You drink it black, right?”

Y/N nods as she takes the cup from him, careful not to brush over his fingers with her own. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Harry crosses around to the back of the car, opening the trunk with a turn of his key. “Here.” Harry holds out his free hand for Y/N’s bag, taking it from her and setting it down on top of the suitcases in the back. “I got it.”

Y/N regards Harry with a bemused look as she wraps both hands around her coffee cup. “Thanks?” She says again, more questioning this time as she looks at him strangely. “I can do that myself, you know.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be polite.” Harry’s voice takes on its usual bite like he’s flipping a switch. “Is that alright with you, princess?”

Within a second, the familiar irritation with Harry returns to Y/N, and it’s almost comforting to snap back at him in a testy voice. “Don’t call me that.”

Harry snickers under his breath, and although the sound makes Y/N’s annoyance grow, she detects a different tone in it than a few days before. Before she can place a finger on why it sounds different, however, Harry is climbing into the driver’s side of the car and starting the engine.

The two of them are silent as Harry finds his way back to the highway, and they stay in that silence for the first few hours of that day’s leg of the trip. As the third hour begins to pass, Y/N is content listening to the throaty and captivating voice of Stevie Nicks fill the cab of the car. By the second chorus of the song, Y/N is humming along quietly, her foot tapping to the same beat that Harry’s fingers are spelling out against the steering wheel. It’s comfortable, she thinks after a moment. The silence between them. It feels different than it did on their first day, when Y/N was questioning her choice to get into a car with Harry and commit to a 42 hour drive. The silence seems to be fueled more by comfort than tension. It’s…refreshing.

A memory from the first day ignites in the back of her mind, a spark so bright and obvious that she can’t believe it took her so long to see it. “Stevie.” Y/N says suddenly, turning to Harry as a smile spreads over her face. “You named your car Stevie, as in Stevie Nicks?”

Harry laughs, his shoulders moving up and down beneath his black t-shirt from the motion. One hand lifts from the steering wheel and points a finger gun at her. “Took you long enough. I was wondering how many days you’d have to listen to my music to get it.”

Y/N gives his hand a light shove. “I was too distracted by the fact that you named your car.” She rolls her eyes, bringing her bottle of water to her lips for a short sip. “I still think it’s weird.”

“It gives her character.” Harry defends himself as he rubs a hand over the steering wheel absentmindedly. Y/N can see the mirth swirling around in his light irises. “A bit of personality. Just because you don’t value personalities doesn’t mean anyone else doesn’t.”

“I don’t value personalities?” Turning in her seat to stare at Harry head on, Y/N raises an eyebrow in question. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just your taste in men, that’s all.” Harry says it casually, like it really can just be a “that’s all” type of sentence.

Within a heart beat, the comfortable atmosphere in the car turns to ice as Y/N straightens in her seat, her spine tense, tightening every nerve in her body along with it. “What the fuck does that mean?”

When Harry glances at her again, his eyes darken, his guard going up as he senses the shift in Y/N’s tone. “Nothing, just…motel rooms have thin walls.” Harry mumbles, having the decency to keep his eyes on the road as his ears redden slightly. “And from what I overheard, Brant doesn’t exactly seem…stimulating.”

Y/N sputters indignantly for a moment, unable to form a coherent response as anger rises in her chest. “You—” She sucks in a quick breath that hits the back of her throat harshly. “You eavesdropped on me?”

Harry licks his lips once, clearing his throat once before answering. The tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel has resumed, his nervousness apparent in his movements as well as his facial expressions. “Not on purpose. I told you, the walls were thin.”

“So put in head phones!” Y/N exclaims, gripping her water bottle so tight that her fingers begin to strain in protest against the metal exterior. She has half a mind to throw the bottle at Harry in her anger, barely able to talk herself down from the ledge of the idea.

Harry’s posture shifts in his seat as his shoulders square, and Y/N can practically see his defensive side emerge from within his chest. “It’s not like you two were having phone sex.” He rolls his eyes at the idea. “It was the most boring conversation in the world, and lasted, what, three minutes? Makes you wonder how long he lasts in other ways, doesn’t it?”

“Stop the car.” Y/N’s voice is low and void of emotion as she replies, her body turned back forward in her seat.

“Am I wrong? It’s not like you know for sure—”

Anger bubbles over in Y/N’s chest, cancelling out any rational thought she has inside her and leaving pure, unadulterated fury. “Stop the car, Harry! Now!”

Harry half jumps in his seat when Y/N yells, and he quickly jerks the car to the side of the highway without so much as a turn signal. Pulling her seatbelt off as he pulls over, Y/N is out the door before Harry can so much as put the car into neutral. While her more rational mind would tell her that she has nowhere to walk to along a highway in Colorado as the sky darkens to an angry black above them, the only thing she’s thinking of is getting away from Harry. Stupid, self-absorbed, ignorant, and rude Harry.

“Y/N—” The sound of Harry scrambling out of the car and slamming the door behind him pushes her to walk faster. “Y/N, come back—”

Y/N turns around on her heel fast and hard, heart pounding so fast that she thinks it might break through her ribs. “What is your problem?” She hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Why do you insist on being so—so nasty about him? You don’t even know him!”

Harry freezes where he is as the wind whips his hair around his face, his bandana barely keeping the messy curls in place. “I don’t—” His speech falters, and he sucks in a sharp breath before continuing. “I don’t think I’m being…nasty.”

“Well, you are!” Y/N takes a deep breath in, placing her hands over her stomach as it expands with air. It’s a trick that Jo taught her back in high school, as a way to ground herself to her body. Feeling the movement of air in and out of her lungs helps calm her, even if by just a fraction. “Brant is just—he’s someone I’m talking to. We’ve gone on dates, but we’re not dating, and even though we’re not dating, that doesn’t mean that you can insinuate things about him, or eavesdrop on our private conversations!”

Harry’s jaw tenses as he listens to Y/N speak, waiting until she’s finished her speech to respond in a harsh and clipped tone. “I already told you, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. And I’m teasing you. It’s supposed to be a joke. Isn’t that what friends do?”

“But we’re not friends, Harry.” Y/N’s voice is flat, the fury in her tone replaced with a hollow emptiness. “We’re not friends. I don’t need you teasing me about a boy like we’re buddies, or whatever, because we’re not.”

Although Harry opens his mouth to respond, no words cross over the edges of his pink lips. His jaw tightens even more as he closes his mouth again, and Y/N can see a million things flitting through his green irises, which are getting darker by the moment. Y/N’s not certain if the darkness is from her words, or the black sky rolling above them that’s sapping the light of day from the atmosphere, and she’s not sure if she can take the answer either way. Part of her knows that maybe—just maybe—she’s blown this whole thing out of proportion, and maybe she should examine why Harry making fun of Brant bothers her like it does. It’s not like she’s unaware of his shortcomings, she thinks, but then she wonders why she’s now seeing them as shortcomings, when a week ago, she saw them as positives. Y/N never has to worry about Brant being too much for her, or forgetful, or scatterbrained—he’s organized, and secure, and stable, and that’s what she likes. It’s always been what she likes.

Harry’s delayed response tears Y/N from her thoughts. “Not friends. Got it.” He mutters, rubbing his hand over his stubbled and taut cheeks. “Just get back in the car, then. Let’s go.”

…

“Hello! My name is Gracie, I’ll be your server today.” The waitress in the tiny diner smiles at Harry and Y/N, a notepad in one hand and a half filled coffee pot in the other. “Can I get you guys anything to start?”

“Coffee.” Harry and Y/N speak at the same time, each person’s eyes flickering to the other before looking away. Y/N keeps her eyes focused on her off-white ceramic coffee cup as Gracie fills it, refusing to make eye contact with Harry again.

The last hour has been almost unbearable. After they got back in the car, Harry had turned off his playlist, and for the first time since the road trip had begun, true silence had fallen between them. Y/N had thought she would like it, but truthfully, it had been the worst thing she’d ever heard. Every few minutes, she’d hear Harry shift, or sigh, or tap a tense finger against the gear shift, and she wished that she could say something, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. She’d been grateful when he wordlessly exited the highway and parked in front of a diner, as the conversations of stopped truck drivers and the clatter of a kitchen was a good distraction from their argument.

A movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention, and Y/N glances up just enough to watch Harry slip a pat of butter into his coffee, stirring the contents of the cup with his spoon until it’s melted together. She wrinkles her nose in disgust, and almost opens her mouth to make a comment (“Really, Harry? Just add milk like a regular person, instead of drinking a cup of grease.”), but bites it back before it can fall off her tongue. They’re not exactly in the position to make quips to each other, she thinks, especially after she told him that they weren’t friends.

Which they’re not. They’ve never been friends; that fact isn’t exactly news. Not getting along has been Harry and Y/N’s signature since the day they first met. So why is there a pit in Y/N’s stomach that gets deeper every time Harry looks away from her?

The click of heels alerts Y/N of Gracie’s returned presence before her voice does. “Have you two decided what you’d like to eat?”

“I’ll have a turkey club, please, on whole wheat bread.” Harry folds up his plastic menu carefully. “And a glass of water on the side.”

Gracie nods, taking the menu from him before turning her eyes to Y/N. “And for yourself?”

“Um—” Y/N had barely glanced at the menu, too lost in her thoughts to think about it. “I’ll just have a burger, please. And a water, as well.”

Gracie nods as she writes down the order, taking Y/N’s menu and giving the pair one last smile before disappearing to the kitchen. A fresh wave of silence falls between Harry and Y/N as each of them sips their coffee, both of them doing their best not to look at the person sitting across from them.

Y/N’s best, however, is not up to her usual standard, as she can’t stop herself from stealing a few quick glances while Harry looks out the window. He hasn’t shaved in a couple days, she notices, as the stubble on his cheeks and chin is even darker than it was the day before. There’s a permanent crease between his eyebrows, his face as tense as she’s ever seen it, and a darkness over his whole expression overall. It’s like there’s a new wall up between the two of them, and Y/N’s never felt more detached from him. Which, honestly, is saying something.

She’s looking back down at her own half empty coffee when Harry finally speaks a few minutes later, his voice just as tense as his expression.

“Shit.” He says in a low voice, and then the next sound Y/N hears is that of someone ruffling through pockets.

She looks up to see Harry doing just that, his hands digging through the outer pockets of his army green jacket. “What?” She asks, her curiosity outweighing her need to continue the silent treatment. “What is it?”

“I had the vows in my—my pocket, but they’re—” Harry jams his hands inside a pocket sewn into the lining of his jacket, and Y/N watches as his face visibly relaxes. “Oh, thank God. I thought they fell out.”

Harry removes his hand from his pocket, two folded up notes clutched within his hand. Each one is labeled carefully, one with Jo written in Laure’s neat penmanship, and the other with Laure scribbled in Jo’s quick writing.

Y/N recognizes the papers immediately. It’s easy, really, considering the amount of time she spent helping Jo rewrite draft after draft of the same sentiments. “You have Jo and Laure’s vows?” She questions, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “Why?”

“The same reason you have their wedding bands.” Harry shrugs as he turns the papers over in his careful fingers, making sure not to crease them. “They forgot them.”

A small smile plays on the edge of Y/N’s lips at the memory of her forgetful friends. “Right. Of course.”

Harry’s eyes flicker to Y/N’s mouth at the sign of movement, and he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth before responding. “Want to take a look?”

“At their vows?” Y/N looks around, as if someone could be watching and monitoring them. “I—that doesn’t seem right.”

“Fine. Then don’t look at them.” Harry says easily, setting the note labeled Laure on the table between them. His nimble fingers unfold the paper labeled with Jo’s name as his green irises begin to scan across the sheet. “I’ll read them.”

It only takes a few seconds of watching Harry read over the words for Y/N to crack. “Wait.” She brings her thumb to her mouth, chewing anxiously on her cuticle as Harry quirks an eyebrow at her. “Will you read them to me?”

When she asks, Harry spends so long staring at her that Y/N thinks he’ll refuse. His jade eyes meet hers with an intensity that almost makes her flinch, but Y/N holds his stare, refusing to be the first to back down. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Harry gives a sharp nod, looking down at the note before he starts to read from the beginning.

“‘My darling Jo’,” He begins, his voice soft and low, his accent thick. “‘It seems so strange that this day is finally here. I feel like we’ve been building up to it ever since the day we first met, and yet it’s always seemed so far away. When I was a little girl, I always’…” Harry trails off as his eyes continue to move across the words, and he clears his throat before attempting to continue to read aloud. “‘I always thought that there was something wrong with me. I thought that the things that I felt, and the way that I loved, was dirty. I thought it was wrong. I thought that—that I was going against God, and against nature, and that I was going to be punished for it. And then I met you’.”

Harry pauses to take a sip of his coffee, and Y/N does the same. There’s a shine beginning to appear in his eyes, and Y/N recognizes it as the beginning of tears because she feels the same thing brimming in her own eyes. She feels a bit guilty for reading the vows, but reasons that it’s for the best. If she were to hear them for the first time at the wedding, she doesn’t think she’d be able to keep it together.

“‘The moment I met you, I knew that the way I loved could never be wrong, or be dirty, because I was loving you’.” Harry’s accent grows thicker the more he reads, and although Y/N hasn’t seem Harry in many different emotional states, she can tell that this is a sign of how the vows are affecting him. “‘Being with you could never be wrong, and God could never get mad at me for it, because only God could create someone as perfect as you. I promise to love you when you wake me up at 3 A.M. because you’ve stolen all the blankets, and I promise to love you at 6 P.M. when you almost burn down our apartment while trying to cook for me. I promise to support you through everything, listen to your stories, and watch in wonder as you make a difference in this world. I promise to never let my anger get the best of me, and to always give you the benefit of the doubt. I promise to love every version of yourself that you grow into, just as I’ve loved all the versions you once were. I promise to love you in every way humanly possible, and even in ways that aren’t humanly possible. I promise to love, period. I’—” Harry’s voice cracks, and he glances up at Y/N as he clears his throat to continue. “‘I love you’.”

Y/N doesn’t realize just how emotional listening to Harry read Laure’s vows has made her until the first tear wells over the corner of her eye. She turns her head towards the window to wipe it away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, but from the way Harry is looking at her when she turns back around, she knows that he caught what she was doing.

“That, um—” Now it’s Y/N’s turn to attempt to clear the emotion from her throat. “Wow.”

Harry carefully folds Laure’s vows back up, taking extra care to re-crease the paper exactly how it had been folded. “I didn’t know she…felt like that.” Harry says after a moment, his voice quiet. “Like she was…wrong.”

Y/N, unsure of what to say, just nods while reaching for Jo’s vows in front of her. Like Harry, she takes great care when unfolding the paper, smoothing it gently between her hands. “I’ll read Jo’s, then?”

Harry nods as he takes a sip of his water. “Sure.”

Y/N licks her lips once, wetting them with what little saliva she has in her mouth before beginning. “‘Laure’,” She starts, emotion already rising up to form a lump in her throat. “‘I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve tried to write down all the ways I love you a million different times, but I can never seem to find the right words. The problem is, I don’t think that there is a big enough word to describe what I feel for you. ‘Love’ is only four letters, and four letters is just not enough to contain everything I feel. ‘Adoration’ is nine letters, but even that doesn’t come close. I think the best way I can describe it is ‘permanent’.” Y/N pauses her reading to take a long gulp of water, the coolness soothing the dry and parched feeling in her mouth and throat. “‘Anyone who knows me knows that I have trouble committing. The idea of having something forever, of being in one place, normally terrifies me. But the idea of having you forever, and being in one place with you forever…that’s all I want. I want us to be permanent to each other. Even when we struggle, and we will struggle, I know that we won’t fall apart. Committing to you isn’t any trouble. It’s as easy as breathing. I’m sure of you, and I’m sure of us. I love you, permanently. I’ll love you when you’re sick and gross, and I’ll love you when you’re old with a bad hip.” A small laugh falls out of Y/N’s mouth before she continues. “I’ll love you when you haggle at flea markets for the best prices, and I’ll love you when you do something so stupid that it makes me want to tear my hair out. I love you permanently, and I want all of our family and friends to witness me saying that. I’ll never back out, or bail, or run away from you. You’re the one thing in my life that’s never felt hard. You’re my home base, and my north star, and you bring me back down to Earth whenever I need it. I love you permanently, Laure. I’ll never stop’.”

As she finishes reading, Y/N folds the paper back up, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand before grabbing the other note sitting on the table. She pushes them towards Harry, her misty eyes unable to meet his. “Here. Put these away again, somewhere safe.”

Harry takes the vows from her, slipping them back inside his inner jacket pocket for safekeeping. “It’s probably—” He clears his throat once more, and Y/N knows that the vows have caught him in his chest just as they’ve caught her. “It’s probably good that we read them now, so that we’re…prepared for the ceremony.”

“Yeah.” Y/N wraps her hands around her coffee mug, the warm ceramic surface heating her cold fingers. “You’re right. They really…love each other.”

Harry taps his fingers against the table top, a concentrative and thoughtful expression on his face. His eyebrows are knit together above his stormy green eyes, and his pink tongue swipes over his pinker lips once before he speaks. “You know, Laure is my closest friend. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

Immediately registering the tone of Harry’s voice, Y/N’s head snaps up, her own eyes becoming stormy as they meet his own. “Jo would never hurt Laure.” Y/N says defensively, the hairs on the back of her neck pricking up at even the suggestion of her friend hurting someone. “Didn’t you hear her vows? I’ve never heard her sound so sure of something in her entire life.”

Harry’s jaw flexes at the cadence of Y/N’s voice, and his is just as agitated when he responds. “I’m just saying, if anything ever happened—”

“And I’m just saying, it won’t.” The tension between them doubles as Y/N shoots Harry an icy glare. “Do you just look for the worst in people? Is that all you do?”

“You think I look for the worst in people? Really?” Harry barks out a harsh laugh, pressing one hand flat against the table as the other fixes his bandana. “Christ, if that’s what you think of me—”

“Why would I think anything else?” Y/N asks incredulously, tilting her head to the side as she regards him. “All you’ve shown me is—”

“Alright, I have the turkey club on whole wheat, and the burger here.” Gracie appears suddenly to Y/N’s right, her tray loaded with food. “Here you guys are…” She sets the plates down in front of Harry and Y/N, her gaze darting between them nervously as she reads the tension in the booth. “Is…there anything else I can get you two?”

“No.” Harry’s voice is hard. “We don’t need anything else.”

…

By the time Harry pulls the car into a motel just off the highway in Lexington, Nebraska, all Y/N wants is a moment alone. The strained atmosphere during that day’s drive had been unbearable, and between the anxiety from her confrontation with Harry and the sound of thunder beginning in the distance, Y/N just needs some space to herself to relax and calm down.

Of course, just because that’s what she needs, doesn’t mean that she’s going to get it. When Harry returns back to the car with a single key in his hand and a sour look on his face, Y/N knows for sure that the universe is against her.

This room, at least, she’s pleased to find, has two actual beds, which are pushed up against the wall perpendicular to the door with a small night table between them. However, that’s where her pleasure stops, as the click of Harry turning the lock behind her just reminds her that she’s trapped in here, with no chance to get away from Harry, the oncoming storm, or any one of her problems that have developed over the last four days. The reality of the situation hits her all at once, and it takes all of Y/N’s self control to toss her bag on the bed and walk brusquely to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her before she allows herself to show a sign of her emotions.

The rest of the evening passes in silence. She showers before changing into her sports bra and boxers, but the amount of exposed skin sends a vulnerable shiver down her spine. Y/N opts for pulling a sweatshirt over her body, and then sets herself the task of braiding her hair to distract herself. After that’s done, she busies herself with her skincare routine, taking up as much time as she can in the bathroom before she absolutely has to leave its private interior.

Harry, however, seems to want to see as little of Y/N as she wants to see of him, and pushes past her to enter the bathroom the moment that she steps out of it. His routine, it seems, is designed to take up just as much time as hers was, because by the time Harry exits the bathroom, the scent of his shampoo trailing behind him, Y/N is already tucked under the covers of her bed, although she’s far from asleep.

In the time it took for her to shower and get ready for bed, the storm had picked up, and the only thing audible in the room was the sound of rain pelting against the roof and window, the wind howling through the trees, and Y/N’s shallow, uneven breaths. She wraps the sheets tightly around herself, pulling them taut to her chin with clenched fists that tighten every time a clap of thunder echoes through the room. Although she’s turned to face the wall, away from Harry, she can hear his footsteps pause as he gets a glimpse of her shivering form beneath the blankets, and she does her best to will herself to appear asleep. Breathing in as deeply as her tight chest will allow her, Y/N attempts to even her breathing, forcing her shoulders rise and fall in a way that appears natural and normal. But all it takes is one clap of thunder for the controlled motion to go out the window.

“Y/N…” Harry’s voice is low, but despite its raspy cadence, it lacks the rough edge that it had earlier. The bed behind her squeaks, signalling that Harry’s taken a seat on the edge of it. “Are you—?”

“I-I’m fine.” Y/N says quickly, pulling the sheets tighter to her chin as another shiver rolls through her body. “Go to sleep.”

There’s another creak of Harry’s bed, and Y/N imagines him climbing under the starched linen covers, his damp curls flopping into his eyes as he lays back on the lumpy motel pillow. The image is almost enough to distract her until there’s another clap of thunder. The sound seems to shake the motel room, and Y/N can’t stop the small whimper that leaves her lips as her body jumps in response.

“When I was a little kid, my mum took my sister and I to the fair every year.”

Harry’s deep voice cuts over the rain, and Y/N shifts in her bed, turning over to face him. She keeps the covers pulled up to her chin, but readjusts herself so that she can keep her head on her pillow while looking Harry in the eye. “What?” She asks, confusion audible in her quiet tone.

Harry shifts himself as she does, continuing to move down until he’s completely horizontal, with one hand tucked under his pillow as he speaks. “My mum took my sister and I to the fair. It came to Holmes Chapel every spring, and there were always rides, and games to play, and so many things to see. It drew crowds from nearby villages every year, really big crowds, and my mum always held my hand tightly so I wouldn’t get lost.”

“I don’t understand, what—” Another clap of thunder shakes the room, making Y/N flinch halfway through her sentence.

“You’re okay.” Harry says immediately, his calm jade eyes focused on her as the reassurance slips from his mouth. He waits a moment, gauging Y/N’s body language and waiting for his examination to be positive before resuming his story. “So…my mum always told me not to wander off, but when I was six, I did. I saw some older kids playing games that I wanted to play, and Gemma was busy playing some sort of game with a ball—I can’t really remember what—and when my mum turned her back, I ran off.”

Y/N’s about to open her mouth to ask why he’s telling her the story when the answer clicks into place in her head. She thinks back to the conversation in the car the day before, how she told Harry that it helps when someone talks to her to distract her from the thunder. That’s what he’s doing, she realizes, as she forces herself to focus on his quiet and level voice. He’s trying to keep her calm, even after everything she said and did today.

“I don’t look like it now,” A small smile flits across Harry’s blushed lips. “But I was pretty scrawny back then. And all the people around me were so tall, my eyes were barely level with their hips. Everyone was rushing around, going in all directions, and I kept calling for my mum, but she couldn’t hear me. No one stopped to help me. I felt like I was…trapped. Like it was a huge forest of legs, running all around me, circling me, and I couldn’t get out. I was probably only gone for five minutes, but to a six year old, it felt like an eternity. And just something about it…I don’t know. It changed me. I still don’t like crowds because of that day.”

Y/N’s shoulders unclench the slightest bit as another gust of wind blows against the window. “That must have been scary.”

Harry’s own shoulders lift in a slight shrug as he shifts the sheet to cover him more. “It was. But I can’t change it. I just have to deal with the repercussions of it. That’s all a fear is, really. A side effect. We just have to deal with them as best we can.”

More thunder booms loudly outside, but Y/N manages to keep her flinch to a minimum, despite her hands curling into fists again under the covers. “Harry…” She whispers his name into the darkness between them, his outline barely visible save for his green eyes. “I’m—I’m sorry about today.”

Harry shakes his head, his damp hair rubbing against his pillow. “You don’t have to apologize.” He whispers back, his tone as gentle as she’s ever heard it. “I was an arse. I shouldn’t have pushed the topic.”

“I shouldn’t have been so uptight about it.” Rubbing her eyes with one fist, Y/N lets out a low sigh. “I felt so shitty all day because of our fight. I’ve never…none of our fights have ever made me feel like that.”

“Maybe it’s because…” Harry’s tentative voice trails off, his eyes flickering to the ground for a brief moment before staring back at Y/N nervously. “I don’t know. I thought we were getting along better. For a moment, at least.”

“We were.” Y/N’s teeth tug on her bottom lip, and she feels a sudden shyness overcome her at the admission. “I’m sorry I said that we…weren’t friends. I think…I don’t know. I’ve been stubborn for so long, but I can see now that you’re different than I thought you were.”

“Yeah. Me too. I was wrong, too.” Harry runs a hand through his damp curls, a soft laugh leaving his mouth. “How did we even end up like this? I barely remember what made us hate each other so much in the beginning.”

“Seriously?” Y/N raises an eyebrow, barely peaking out from beneath the sheets as another clap of thunder sounds. “You don’t remember?”

Harry mimics her expression. “Do you?”

“Yes! It was the very first night we met. We had that double date with Laure and Jo.” Shifting beneath her covers, Y/N moves herself into a better position on her side, so she can be more comfortable while still maintaining eye contact with Harry. “And you were rude, and made inappropriate jokes, and you left in the middle of the date to go chat up a sorority girl!”

“Wait a minute, no!” Harry protests the memory, half sitting up in his bed as he speaks. “That’s not what happened!”

“Yes, it is!” A small laugh falls off Y/N’s lips at his indignant reaction. “I remember it perfectly!”

“No, you remember it wrong!” Although a flush creeps up Harry’s neck, there’s an amused smile playing on his lips, a tiny hint of a dimple just barely appearing in his visible cheek. “I was making jokes to try and break the ice, which didn’t work on the Ice Queen, it seems—” Harry motions to Y/N teasingly. “And you’re the one who started talking to some bloke before I started talking to that girl!”

Another clap of thunder echoes through the room, but Y/N hardly notices as she thinks back to the night they met, and who Harry could possibly be referring to. “A bloke—? He was a classmate of mine! I had to talk to him!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to enjoy it so much.” Harry grumbles, crossing his muscled arms over his sheets. “I had been so excited when Laure said she had an American girl for me, and then—”

“You were excited?” Y/N asks, her voice laced with surprise. “Really?”

The flush on Harry’s neck works its way to the apples of his cheeks. “Well, yeah.” He mumbles the words as his eyes drop from Y/N’s, slipping both hands beneath his head. “She said that you were funny, intelligent, witty, beautiful—”

“And then you met me, and realized that it was all a lie?” Y/N finishes for him, rolling her eyes in the darkness.

“No.” Harry gives a small shake of his head as his body shifts, the motel bed creaking under his weight. “No, she wasn’t wrong. You were all of those things. But I wasn’t, and it seemed like…I don’t know. Like you didn’t think I was good enough for you. I couldn’t keep your attention.”

The teasing smile slips from Y/N’s face as she registers Harry’s words. “You thought that I thought you weren’t…good enough?”

The nervousness is clear in Harry’s voice now, even over the pounding of rain against the window. “That’s what it seemed like, yeah.”

“I never—I didn’t think that.” Y/N says slowly, managing to relax her body beneath the sheets as she keeps her focus on the memory of meeting Harry. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be there, but that’s because Jo set the date up without telling me. I thought you were handsome, and I liked your accent, but then you started to act weird, and you started flirting with that girl, so I thought you were an ass.”

“You still think I’m an arse, princess, be honest.” The teasing tone replaces the nerves, and for once, Harry’s joke has the intended affect on Y/N. When she rolls her eyes again, it’s more playful, and the same tone is in her voice when she responds.

“I told you, don’t call me princess.” She replies, running her teeth over her lip gently. “So…I guess we both kind of fucked up that day.”

“Yeah.” Harry nods, a sheepish smile playing over his red lips. “I guess so.”

“Can we just restart?” Y/N’s voice is small when she asks the question, barely audible over the sounds of the storm raging outside. “Like, all the way from the beginning. No more grudges, no more yelling. Even if it’s just for this trip, for Jo and Laure—”

“It doesn’t have to be just for this trip.” Harry cuts in, his eyes catching Y/N’s again. “We’re going to have to be around each other for a long time. It’ll be a lot easer if we get along.”

Y/N nods in agreement, tugging down her covers to extend one arm towards Harry. She makes a fist, holding out just her pinkie finger to him with half a grin on her face. “Truce?”

The space between their beds is small, and Harry’s long arm easily makes it across the no man’s land to meet Y/N’s pinkie with his own. He loops it together with a smile that matches hers, tired and content and just at the edge of a humble new beginning. Harry’s response is almost inaudible as thunder booms loudly outside the room, but Y/N can still pick out the cadence of his accent under the noise.

“Truce.”

(pt II)

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missblissy · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I want some pain so the Hurt/comfort post, about Alastor x reader with 1, 2, 4, 12??

((Of course Nonny!! Sorry for such a wait!! I've got a lot of these to work on lol. REMEMBER!! REQUEST ARE CLOSED RIGHT NOW, EVERYONE!! IF YOU SEND ONE IN I WILL NOT DO IT! I've had a few other people send some in and I'm sorry to say I have to delete them. I do not have any more room to take any more prompt requests. Thank you everyone for understanding! NOW.... Enjoy the Modern!AU Angst >:D))

1: “We need to stop the bleeding – now!” 2: “I hate to see you hurt like this.” 4: “I want to help you, so please let me.” 12: “You’re normally the tough guy. Today, let me be tough for the both of us.”

Something about today had felt off. Ever since you woke up, it just felt... not right. As if your mind already knew what was going to happen before it actually did. But no one can really know that for sure. That's why it's called a gut feeling. And that feeling told you that today... You might just die.

You've tasted blood before. But for some reason this time it tasted sweet, rather than bitter, and full of iron. There wasn't much for you to focus on other than the lights from the ceiling flickering over your head. You faintly heard a doctor screaming, "We need to stop the bleeding! BP is dropping- Let's go! Now!"

How did you end up here again, violently broken and bleeding out? Oh, that's right... You were driving home after work. It was another late shift during the dead hours of the night. Drunk drivers were often out during these hours of the night. One just so happened to hit you, and now you're here in a hospital.

You just wanted to go home and sleep. You wanted to lay beside your husband and not have to worry about anything. That was not your case, however. And instead, you tried your best to speak. A nurse who was pushing you along the gurney said, "It's alright, we'll help you, you're safe now." But all you wanted to do was ask about your husband. For someone to tell him what was going on. You were sure he was at home, sleeping soundly and without a clue what had happened.

And Alastor wouldn't find out until the next morning. He'd wake up to several missed calls from dozens of people and some he didn't even know. This man didn't even get dressed. He ran out of the house still in his pajamas and floored it to the hospital. Along the way there, Alastor would throw a massive fit. He'd smash his hands on the steering wheel, beating himself up over not getting there sooner.

He'd curse and swear and honestly drive like a maniac. Every red light he got caught at only made him angrier with the world. His tires would spin and shoot smoke the second the light flickered green and off he rushed again.

Luckily, you were out of surgery long before Alastor got to the hospital. A nurse walked him to your room, and he found himself staring at a sight he'd never imagine. You were broken beyond belief. The nurse gave Alastor a sorry look, "Everything's stable, for now," The nurse said, "But...." She shook her head, "It was one of the worse car accidents we've ever seen. We did everything we could-"

"Coma..." Alastor said the single word, "Induced or?" The nurse shook her head.

"Brain damage, though there is still plenty of brain activity," That was good to hear. It meant you weren't brain dead... yet. The nurse gave him a sorry look, then with a nod of her head, she left him there. Alastor slowly walked into your room and closed the door behind him. He even turned all the blinds so no one could see in the little windows from the hallways. Everything felt wrong.

He stood at your bedside. Taking in everything. The tubes, the machines, the wires. Almost immediately he felt his eyes burn with the threat of tears. And when he placed a hand on your cheek he couldn't stop the waves of them rushing down his face.

The sheer pain of the situation made Alastor sob like a child for the first time in his adult life. He sat down beside you and grabbed your hand, "Dammit..." He squeezed tightly, "Dammit!" He let out a little shout and brought your hand to his cheek, "I hate this-" He let out a small cry, "I hate to see you like this, my poor dear-"

He couldn't stop the waves of tears sobbing from his eyes. He'd never let himself cry like this before, but he felt like if he didn't cry, he wouldn't have the chance to later. With anger, he ran a hand over his face, aggressively wiping his tears. He threw his glasses off his face and they clinked to the floor. Alastor's fingers ringed into his hair as he let out another sob and pushed his bangs out of his face. He had completely lost all of his composure. Every part of him was breaking down.

Alastor sat down in the chair by your bedside and buried his head in one of his hands. With his other hand, he still held firm to yours. His fingers dug into your skin as let out another sob, "Please-" He hiccuped, "Please...!" He looked up at your unconscious face with watery dark eyes, "Please be okay," He whispered the words out quickly as he brought your hand to his lips, "Please let me help you-" He spoke the words against your skin, "I want to help you- Please let me... Just!" He paused for another quick sob, "Please just give me a sign your still in there..."

He was never a man to pray to any kind of god. He didn't believe there was one, to begin with. But Alastor found himself praying, hoping that anything would happen. He couldn't lose you, and certainly not like this. You never sign any DNR papers or made it clear to your doctors that you didn't want to be resuscitated. But you did tell Alastor if there ever came a day that you needed machines to keep you alive, you had asked him to pull the plug.

With the weight of what was once just a silly conversation that had now come true, Alastor found himself drowning in misery. He rested his head on the back of your hand as sat in his chair. He looked at his glasses on the ground as tears splattered around them, "I don't want to kill you," He whispered with a cry, "I don't want to unplug you if there is a chance you'll come out of this."

The stone-cold silence lasted only a second between the beats of your heart monitor. A beep, then silence. Another beep, then silence again. Alastor found himself swelling with rage and anger, but mostly sadness. He shook his head slowly as he stared at the ground. This can't be happening... He thought This has to be a dream... This-

Something sounded off. The beeps were getting... faster? Alastor looked up and stared at the monitors. He didn't understand any of them, there were so many, but something was happening. He watched numbers flicker and change when suddenly he felt a tug at his hand.

You didn't make a sound or hardly move but you're squeezed his hand. Alastor had never been so hopeful for something so small. He shot out of his chair with enough force to tip it over behind him.

"Darling!?" Alastor firmly gripped your hand and leaned over you. He let his free hand brush your hair out of your face as he asked, "Darling, please, for the love of god- Can you hear me?"

He waited, and waited some more. Suddenly her felt your hand squeeze him again while he searched your face for any signs, "oh my god-" He whispered to himself as he watched your face twitch with pain before your eyes flickered open. With lightning speed Alastor ran to the door of your room and swung it open, "Someone get a nurse!" He shouted into the hallway, "Please!" He ignored most of the odd stares he was getting.

It wasn't a second later that a small team of nurses rushed in to check on you. You had certainly woken up and the tubes down your throat were not comfortable at all. The intubation tubes were removed, along with the feeding tubes, while others updated your stats. Alastor waited nervously in the corner of the room as he watched a team of people work over you. He felt so helpless that he couldn't watch for long. He'd leave the room and wait in the hallway, trying his best to ignore the painful coughs and groans as tubes were pulled out of your throat.

When the nurses left, Alastor quickly went back into the room and to your side. You had only just started breathing on your own again. It was much harder to breathe than ever before, but you still managed. You were still groggy, swore, and very much in pain. Despite this, you still let the smallest and weakest smile crawl along your lips, "Hey..." Was the first thing you said to your husband.

You watched as Alastor's eyes flickered all over your form. From the casts, the pins, the cuts, and bruises. He searched your face for serval minutes than began a weak laugh that sounded similar to a cry, "H-hey..." He said with a long sigh, he even tried to wear a smile that just didn't sit right on his face.

"Al..." You raised a weak and tired hand to his face. He immediately pressed his cheek into the palm of your hand and shook his head, "I'm sorry," You said. But you had nothing to be sorry for, you didn't cause this or intend for it to happen.

He couldn't say anything, Alastor was too caught up with his feelings. You watched him break down all over again as if he was still living with the fear that you might die, "Hey- hey," You raised your hand slightly and made him look at you, "I'm alright," It was hard to see him so broken down like this, "I'm okay, I'm here." You reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere."

Alastor shook his head quickly as if he didn't want to bother you with his feelings. He sucked in a quick gasp for air then sobbed out, "I'm not strong enough to deal with something like this- Ever-.... I can't lose you." He said quickly.

You couldn't really scoot over but thankfully the bed was rather large. You gave Alastor's arm a tug and he quickly climb in and curled up beside you. He was careful to stay clear of any broken bones as he made himself comfortable.

You stared at the ceiling while Alastor shut his eyes and buried himself into the crook of your neck, you used your free hand to comb his hair despite the pain it caused you to move, "That's alright," You finally told him, "No one is strong enough to deal with something like this. You're normally so tough and good at hiding your emotions. But you don't have to do that. I'm alive, I lived, I can be tough enough for the both of us, even if it's just for today."

Alastor curled himself as close as he could beside you. He wanted nothing more than to hide and forget about this day, he knew how impossible that was but he still wanted it. You could feel his tears running from his face and onto your skin. He couldn't stop crying when normally he never cried. He didn't even cry at his mother's funeral. Even though you were the one in the car accident, somehow you felt that Alastor was in the most pain.

"Please don't ever leave me," His voice was raspy and broken as he spoke against the skin of your neck.

With a sad and sorry look on your face, you did your best to pull him closer and wrap your arm around him. You pressed your forehead against his and you felt a set of tears drop from your eyes. You did your best to smile as you spoke, "I won't," You promised, "I'll never leave you, I'll always be here."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor / reader #alastor / you #reader insert #x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #human!alastor #human!reader #modern!au #angst #angsty #not fluffy #not cute

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

Text

Kill the Lights

Previous chapter: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/648130867354632192/kill-the-lights

Warnings: spice. Oh gods, the spice. 18+ only, minors dni. Smut, consensual, public sex, foreplay, sub/dom, light bondage, threesome or poly, cum play, unprotected sex (irl wrap it before you tap it please people be safe), breeding kink

4: Kitchen Kiss

“Hey Rose, there’s someone asking for you at the front, says he knows you.” Jay’s head poked around the corner of a spice rack.

I looked up with a blink. “Did he give a name?”

“Uh... something like that one reporter’s name. Brock?” He squinted.

“Oh, Eddie!” I dried off my hands. “Becca, could you take over for me for a minute? My boyfriend is out front.”

Becca raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but you’re telling me why you haven’t told me about having a boyfriend when you get back.”

I gave her a sheepish smile. “Ok ok, be back.” I kept my apron on and went out to see Eddie standing by the kitchen doors dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down.

“Hey Rosy.” He smiled lopsidedly, his eyes a little tired.

I reached up to give him a hug. “Are you ok? You look tired.”

He hugged me back. “Yeah, I just got done with an interview. I have to go back home and work on typing it up.”

I pursed my lips. “I think there’s a bit of leftover pie in the fridge if you need a pick me up.” He’d moved in with me from his run-down apartment a week ago, and the arrangement worked out well for both of us. Anne and Dan had even helped Eddie move in, Anne ecstatic that we’d gotten together.

He sighed. “You’re incredible.” He gave me a quick kiss.

I patted his chest. “You’ve never visited me at work though, is there something else going on?”

He glanced over my shoulder. “Do you mind if we... step away?”

I blinked, then realized. “Oh! Right, here.” I led him over to the small locker room I had as head chef, closing the door. “Private locker room, perks of being head chef,” I explained. “What’s up?”

Eddie grimaced, then reached out for me. “He’s been-“

As soon as his hand touched me, I realized that it was Venom.

“He’s insisting he wants to be with you for the rest of the day.” Eddie pulled me closer.

“Well, that’s fine with me,” I said, a little confused. I’d bonded with Venom twice before, mostly just for the comfort of it, besides the one time we’d been... in bed.

“I told him you had work,” Eddie tried to apologize.

“It’s ok, really. As long as he stays out of sight I’ll be fine- well, to be honest most of my coworkers know I’m a Mutant anyway so if a slip up happens I suppose it won’t be the end of the world.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “It’s about to be dinner rush hour, and I have two hours left in my shift.”

He nodded. “If you’re sure.”

I smiled. “Why would I not be okay with it?” I laughed. “It’s my boyfriend.”

He chuckled slightly. “I’ll leave you to it, I’m planning to get at least half the report written up before dinner.”

“Sure, do you mind if I bring dinner from here tonight?”

“Nope.” He bent, pressing his mouth to mine.

I clung to his shoulders, feeling Venom start to creep down my neck and face, down my shoulders, worming into my shirt and down my torso. When Eddie let go, I gasped a little.

“You okay?” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I breathed. Accustoming myself to the sensation of Venom wrapping himself around my hips, I gave him a distracted smile. I gasped and slapped my side as I felt tendrils slip under my bra. “Ven, I’m at work, stop it,” I hissed.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, shoulda warned you, he’s pretty... horny.”

I shook my head. “I’ll deal with it I guess.” I gave him another kiss. “Alright, I’m on the clock. See you tonight.”

He waved goodbye as I led him to the door, and I turned back to the kitchen.

Hello, Rose.

I closed my eyes briefly at the sound of his deep husk caressing my name. “Hi, love,” I murmured. “Missed you.”

Becca grabbed me. “Wait, whoa, that’s the Edward Brock, or I’m blind. He’s your boyfriend? How?” she demanded.

I smiled nervously. “Um, mutual friends... and he may or may not have saved me from being jumped in an alleyway-“

“Oh. My. Gosh.” She shook my shoulders. “What? Spill the tea, right now.”

I talked while we worked, shaking my head at her love of gossip. Still, I knew she’d keep the information private. Becca may love the tea, but she only ever kept it in the cup.

But even as we moved on to focusing on the customers pouring in, I kept getting distracted. Venom kept being active, taking advantage of my loose clothing and apron to hide how he kept wrapping around my hips. He crawled up my sides, sliding under my bra. His tendrils tightened a little around my breasts, and I had to pause and take a breath.

“Ven,” I hissed under the noise of a popping frying pan.

Been missing you all day, Rose.

I bit my tongue and tried to discreetly lean my elbows against the counter to hold myself up. Venom teased my thighs, barely pushing at my underwear. I’d already learned that needy Venom was... needy. Not that I exactly would complain, but still... I was at work.

Will be good. Just an hour and a half.

I almost snorted, glancing behind me. “We both know you’re not patient, love.”

Are you?

Well frick. An hour and a half of Venom being distracting? Anywhere but work and I would’ve been fine, but it was much harder to explain why I was flushed and weak-kneed to my coworkers. Still... I could try. Even if it would be a bit futile. But what else could I do?

I took a deep breath and walked over to check the desserts. Glancing at the clock, I wondered how slow it would creep tonight. Normally it seemed to go by too fast. Tonight, I wasn’t too sure.

“Rose, this icing isn’t setting right,” one of my pastry chefs groaned.

I poked at the bag. “Ratios all good?”

“Yep, I double checked.”

I sighed. “Try making a new batch? Maybe something in it isn’t good. Might as well be safe.”

She nodded and scrapped it, starting over.

I hurried over to another station as Becca waved me over. Fixing the issue, I’d just turned to tell Becca something when I choked. Venom slipped under my underwear, inching closer to my core.

“You okay, Rose?”

I nodded, covering my mouth. “Sorry,” I coughed, “something in the air I think.”

She handed me water, and I took a hasty sip. “Thanks.”

“Alright, first order’s out,” she said grimly. “We’re on schedule, thankfully.”

“I’d like to be ahead if possible,” I said ruefully. “But we’ll do the best we can.”

You’re wet.

I grabbed onto Jay’s arm as my knees went weak. Venom slipped a single tendril into me, teasingly sliding in and out. My entire body felt hypersensitive, Venom’s fingers teasing my nipples not helping in the least.

“Whoa, Rose, you good?” Jay grabbed me.

I winced. “Sorry, Jay. My knee is...”

“Hey, we’re doing just fine here. Do you need to go sit down for a minute? I know you get stressed sometimes,” he said, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

I nodded. “I’ll be back.”

“Take your time.”

I managed to make it back to my room and lock the door just as my knees buckled. Hand pressed against the floor, I moaned. He’d slid further into me, hands forming around my hips.

Is thirty minutes a record? Venom gloated.

“I’m at work,” I complained, trembling. Everything felt so sensitive. “Did something happen today?”

Venom growled, and he abruptly pushed into me. I gasped, jerking, as he completely filled me in a way that made my stomach swell. His matter inside me felt so different from anything else, so satisfyingly full.

Mine.

“Yes,” I whimpered. “You know I am. But what-“ His thrust, decisive and possessive, cut me off.

Stupid guy saying you only want Eddie for money.

I staggered up and collapsed against my closet, trying to get my apron off. I knew I wasn’t finishing my last hour. Not after what he’d said.

“Ven, we both know I’m the one with money right now-“ My apron fluttered off into the hamper as my fingers clenched in my shirt. I barely managed to get it off, fingers trembling. “And other people are dumb. What- happened?” I managed, pitching against the wall as Venom thrust.

I gasped as he formed in front of me, tongue hanging as he drooled heavily. His hands appeared around my hips, tendrils peeling my pants off for me. His hips bucked against me, and his hands brought me down on him in a way that made my eyes roll up.

Doesn’t matter. Rose is ours. No one can else can do this to you.

I had to privately agree. Not without getting kicked, anyway. I’d probably get the full story out of Eddie. But for the moment, I could only focus on Venom’s thumb sliding down to press on my clit.

I tried to muffle my moan, pleasure sparking through me almost unbearably. Venom knew my body too well. Though he and Eddie felt equally good in different ways, something about Venom always reduced me to putty in his giant hands. As a switch, it was unbelievably satisfying to have Eddie flip my dom side and Venom control my sub self.

At this point Venom had to hold me up completely, pushing into me, pulsing and twisting. His mouth slid across my cheek, my jaw, down to my throat. Everything fuzzed, until all I knew was that he was hissing my name, muttering into my skin, talons wrapped around my hips with a gentle sort of decisiveness that made me completely melt. I gave in so readily under his touch, his claws raking softly across my skin to barely leave a mark.

I let out a shuddering moan, his name spilling from my lips. “Venom- oh, Ven.”

Rose is mine. Love my Rose. He purred.

My body kept teetering closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure steady and somehow increasing. I could barely think, barely do anything but say his name, over and over, beg for him. My fingers scrabbled at his chest, slipping against his matter, sinking into it.

His tongue lolled, drooling sloppily onto my chest and arms until it slid down my stomach only for him to lick it off. The moment his talon scraped across my clit again, I arched.

Venom snarled, low and deep in a way that rattled deep into me. He bucked one more time, and I could feel the familiar heat gush into me. He ground against me a few more times, prolonging my pleasure as I whimpered and fell against his chest.

Eventually he sank back into my skin, leaving me slumped against the wall, panting. I gasped for breath, my body still trembling with aftershocks. Venom, as always, had plugged me, keeping everything inside me. For once I was more grateful than usual, knowing that the mess would be difficult to clean up at work. Not to mention, I’d rather not walk around leaking everywhere.

I finally dragged myself up. I had to go home. Fumbling for my phone, I sent a text to Becca telling her that I had to leave because I wasn’t feeling up to snuff. Once I managed to gather myself enough, I pulled on my clothes and threw on my jacket. Grabbing my stuff, I quietly left the restaurant through the service doors and made my way to my car.

I slumped into the seat, unzipping my coat briefly. My entire body felt so hot, and I bit my lip as I felt Venom sliding around my waist again.

Going home to Eddie?

“You win, Ven,” I half-laughed, starting the car. “You got me.”

Eddie wants kids.

I swallowed. “What do you think of that, Ven?” I asked, driving home. My knuckles whitened around the wheel as I tried to keep my hands from trembling. My entire body still felt hypersensitive, and it wasn’t helping that Venom kept occasionally teasing my clit, edging me further.

The idea of children didn’t exactly scare me. I’d wanted kids of my own, but never thought I’d find the guy to settle down with. Though it broke my heart to think of Eddie or Venom leaving me, the idea of having a little one with both of them to cherish and raise was something I would jump at. Though, I hoped that neither of them would leave either.

Would never leave you, Rose. Venom sounded offended. We love you.

I took in a breath. “I know, Ven. It’s just... I can’t help it. It’s a fear.”

We want a kid with Rose. My kind reproduces asexually, but still need a good parent. Raise kids properly.

I pulled into the parking garage and parked, then pulled out the keys and leaned back, hand on the door. “We should talk to Eddie about it first, though, don’t you think?”

Eddie is afraid you’ll leave. Scared of having kids. Scared he will be a bad parent.

I smiled faintly. “Do you think we could change that?”

I think we can. A hint of lust laced his tone, and I swung out of the car.

“So, we agree on a game plan?” I began to walk toward the elevator, stripping out of my shirt and pants and zipping up my coat to hide my underwear.

He just answered with a chuckle, and I smirked. My switch flipped, and I licked my lips as I exited the elevator. For a brief moment, I was glad I’d decided to wear a pair of matching and relatively lacy underwear. I opened the door and let my clothes and bag slide to the floor.

Venom untied my hair, and I ruffled it with a murmured thanks. Kicking off my shoes, I reached up to untie my scarf as I walked into the office.

Eddie turned, looking surprised to see me. “Rose? I thought you still had a while to-“ His mouth dropped as the coat slid off my shoulders to pool on the floor.

I pulled the scarf off, then walked up to him in the chair. Using the scarf, I wrapped it around his shoulders and sat myself in his lap. Pulling him closer, I pressed a kiss to his neck as he grabbed my waist.

“I think Ven might have been too strong of a corruption for me, Eddie,” I murmured, sliding my arms around his shoulders. I pulled back to give him a pout, burying my fingers into his hair.

He sucked in a breath. “I- uh- I sorta thought he might calm down just being near you... guess I was wrong-?” he chuckled nervously. “Um- Rose, are you- mm.”

I cut him off with a kiss, my hand sliding down to his. “Eddie,” I murmured against his mouth, pulling his hand to my underwear. “I think your girlfriend isn’t quite full enough,” I suggested, making him sink his fingers into me.

He sucked in a sharp breath as Venom’s matter started to spill out of me around his fingers, puddling in his lap. He grunted, and I could feel his pants strain against me.

“Do you mind if I need a little attention?” I breathed, biting my lip as I sat up.

He licked his lips. “I... I do have work...” but it was weak.

I bent to kiss his ear. “But I really, really want you under me,” I whimpered. “Venom and I want to have your hands around my hips, buried inside of me.”

His breath stuttered. “You know I’m yours, Rose,” he said weakly, his voice turning into the submissive whimper I loved so much.

Venom took over me briefly, taking us to the bedroom. He got rid of Eddie’s pants and shirt, then melted up my arms as he settled me over Eddie’s hips. Venom left me to sink into Eddie, wrenching his arms up to latch onto the headboard, securing him to the bed.

I peeled my underwear off, ignoring how they were soaked through with black. It leaked down me, onto Eddie’s straining member as he bucked and grunted.

“Please- Ven- I want to touch her,” Eddie groaned, his eyes fixed on me.

I bent to kiss him, sliding my hands up his chest. “If you be a good boy for Rose and Venom tonight, Eddie, I think you’ll like what we’ve agreed on,” I teased, smiling playfully as I rocked my hips up.

He hissed, then panted. “I’ll be good.” He gulped as I brushed my fingers over his nipples. “I promise, Rose. Please, he’s been in my head all day and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Hmm, I don’t know...” I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “You did dump him on me at work.” I gave him a pout. “Don’t you know what Ven did? How he teased me at work for an hour before making me go to the locker room? How he pushed me against the wall and took care of me, reminding me that you were here at home?”

His hips strained against Venom futilely. “Please, Rose,” he whined. “I need it, please, I need you. We need you.” His dark eyes all but begged for me. “I’m so close already, please.”

I tilted my head and reached down, dragging my fingers across his length. It twitched as he hissed, and I pulled it up to tease it against my entrance. I smiled. “Oh? Do you want Venom to just slide it into me, so slowly? Hmm?”

He groaned. “Yes, please.”

Venom formed his body under Eddie, trapping him between me and himself. He still held Eddie captive, but reached his own hands up to start teasing my breasts. Eddie groaned, tortured at the sight.

“This isn’t fair,” Eddie groaned.

Venom chuckled. I had her at work today, Eddie. She was hot and wet and soft, and perfect. She kept saying my name, wanting me. His tongue flickered.

I squirmed for effect under his hands. “Hn- not my nipples, Ven- you’ve been teasing me this whole time,” I whined. “It’s my turn to play with Eddie. I want him.” I pouted.

His hands slid down to my hips and pulled me down into a kiss. I melted into Eddie’s body, moaning into Venom’s mouth. Eddie whimpered between us, squirming, trying to search for friction, for some sort of satisfaction.

Isn’t our Rose beautiful, Eddie? Venom growled, his tendrils sliding between us to wrap around Eddie’s length. His hands lifted my hips, clearly teasing my lips against Eddie’s throbbing, leaking length. His thumbs parted my lips, and thick, black tendrils crawled down to start teasing my clit.

I moaned, leaning back so Venom could control my hips. “Oh- yes, Ven.” I bit my lip. “Tease me with Eddie, please.”

Eddie moaned. “Ven, Rose, please. I can’t take much more.”

He can’t hold on much longer, Rose. Venom grinned, tongue wrapping around Eddie’s throat.

“But I love it when he begs, Ven. He’s so cute. Please tease a little more?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

His tendrils squeezed Eddie’s tip, then slowly rubbed the head against me. Make him cum inside you?

“Yes!” I reached down to lace my fingers in Venom’s, still wrapped around my hips. “Please, make him cum inside me. Like you did.”

Eddie gasped sharply. “W-wait- but I- I don’t have a condom on-“

And she’s not on the pill. Venom agreed, dipping Eddie’s tip into me.

Eddie’s wide eyes met mine. “Wait, if you put me in I- I’ll cum.”

And if Rose is okay with that? Venom asked, his fingers lacing in mine as his hands supported me.

Eddie stared at me.

I supported myself against Venom’s hands, teasing myself against Eddie’s tip as Venom’s tendrils held it up against me. “I want you to cum in me, Eddie.”

We talked, Eddie.

“What?” He sucked in a sharp breath as I slid his tip into me, feeling the stretch. “You-?”

She wants it, Eddie. Wants us.

“You want- you want it, Rose? I mean... you’re okay with-?”

I nodded, biting my lip and whimpering as Venom twitched against my clit. “Yes. I want you and Venom, Eddie. I want to try to have kids with both of you. I love both of you so much. I’ve always wanted a baby.”

Venom let me sink another inch onto Eddie, his fingers tightening around mine as I moaned. Eddie’s breaths were coming short and fast, his eyes rolling. I slid down onto Eddie all the way, until Venom’s tendrils on my clit were resting against Eddie’s pelvis. Eddie let out a broken moan, jerking as he moaned my name, over and over. Venom growled, and I bit my lips in satisfaction as I felt Eddie spill into me.

It wasn’t enough. Venom let me bend down to kiss Eddie, soft and deep. His hands held my hips tightly against him and Eddie, his tendrils wrapping around Eddie’s length still buried inside me.

“Oh- Venom- Rose- wait, it’s too- it’s too sensitive,” he cried, jerking. “No, stop, I can’t-“

I thrust a little, grinding my hips against him. Venom continued to tease Eddie’s tip, over stimulating him as he twisted and moaned. “Wait- please- I’ll come again-“

“It’s okay, Eddie,” I murmured, kissing him gently. “Cum inside me. Let me and Ven feel you cum in me. I want it. I want you.”

He let out a cry, his eyes welling as he bucked and jerked. He spilled into me again, sobbing out our names. Venom finally let him go, though I kept him buried deep inside me.

“Please don’t let it out of me, Ven,” I pleaded softly.

Will take care of you, Rose. Venom reassured, his thumbs rubbing my waist. He continued to tease my clit, keeping me sensitive and relaxed.

Eddie gasped, slowly recovering. “Rose-“

I kissed him. “I love you, Eddie. So much,” I murmured.

Venom let his hands go, and he immediately grabbed onto me. “Marry me,” Eddie blurted, kissing me fiercely. “Marry us, Rose.”

I gaped at him. “Wh-what?”

“Marry us. We want to have kids with you, want to stay with you forever. I love you, so much.” He searched my eyes.

I smiled brightly. “Yes! Yes, I will. I love you so much, Eddie.” I kissed him, then smiled at Venom. “And I love you so much, Venom.”

Venom kissed me, his tongue slipping into my mouth. Then he twitched my hips over Eddie. My turn?

Eddie nodded. Venom built on top of Eddie’s length inside me, making me moan as I stretched even further. All the semen inside me seemed to swirl, making me sigh in satisfaction. Something about Venom’s pure size, how much bigger he was than me, always made me feel so safe and satisfied.

“Are you okay, Rose?” Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, and he cradled my waist in his hands.

I smiled. “Yes, I’m fine. Ven- Ah!- feels so good.” I bit my lip.

Eddie, want to see Rose cum? See her filled with us? Get her... pregnant?

Eddie’s breath hissed between his teeth. His hands gently slid up, then cupped my breasts. His fingers nudged my nipples a little, his hands calloused but gentle.

“Yes,” he rasped.

I let Venom completely manhandle me, grinding my hips against Eddie’s as he twitched inside me. I whimpered. Eddie gently kissed me, his lips sliding against mine with a tenderness that didn’t match the way Venom rutted their hips into me. Each thrust kept making more semen trickle out of me, yet pushing it further into my womb.

I felt so full and satisfied, heat lighting all of my nerves. I half-sobbed, feeling myself creep closer to the edge again. “Venom, Eddie,” I cried, beginning to tremble.

Love our Rose. Venom purred, his tongue beginning to curl around my shoulder.

“We love you, Rose,” Eddie murmured, kissing my neck.

I felt everything inside of me clench as I came, gasping for breath. But Venom kept thrusting up into me, kept bringing my hips down to meet him. I sobbed around the pleasure, whining Venom’s name as I came. He growled and spilled into me one last time, making everything overflow in a messy puddle.

I sank against Eddie’s chest, feeling Venom retract to leave Eddie inside me. I tried to just breathe, coming down from my high. Eddie pressed kisses down my neck, holding me to him gently. Venom purred lowly, switching so he wrapped around both of us.

I leaned up and kissed Eddie softly, feeling his thumbs rub circles into my waist. Venom cuddled us both, bubbling contentedly over our skin. I giggled slightly as he traced patterns over my stomach.

Rose going to have a little one?

“I hope so, Ven,” I answered softly, running my hand down his matter.

Eddie turned us over onto our sides, curling around me. His hand splayed over my stomach, still buried inside me. “I can’t believe you... you want this,” he said wonderingly.

I smiled, cupping his cheek. “I’ve always wanted kids, I just didn’t know if I’d ever find the right person,” I confessed. “But you and Ven...”

He kissed me gently. “Thank you, Rose. I promise we’ll protect you, take care of you.”

I nuzzled into his neck. “I’m so happy I’ll get to be Rosemary Brock,” I said shyly.

“Sorry, Rose. I didn’t really mean to propose like this. I have a ring and everything, I just...”

I shook my head. “It’s okay, Eddie.” I smiled. “I’m so happy that I’ll get to marry you and Ven. I was a little scared,” I said, looking down at his chest. “I mean, I know that you care for me, but I... I didn’t want to lose either of you.”

“Never,” Eddie promised. “I love you with everything I have. I know I’m not the best man out there, Rose, and you’re... you’re too good for me. But I want to take care of you and have kids with you and Ven.”

“That’s all I want,” I whispered.

Venom nuzzled my shoulder. Ours, Rose. Always together.

“Always, Ven,” I promised back. “I love you. I’m yours, Venom.”

#my writing #x reader #venom x reader #venom #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock #we are venom #marvel #exophilia #alien #alien x reader #lemon #smut #marvel smut #spicy

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