#And she woke me up? from my sleepy? that i was having? instead of going to class? bc it's raining? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

macfrog · 4 months

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psyche and cupid | one shot

happy valentine's, beautiful people. i love you with all of my heart. xx shoutout to @familyvideostevie for putting joel's slutty little thigh holster into my head and, well. yeah. pairing: jackson!joel miller x fem!reader summary: valentine's day with joel doesn't go to plan. warnings: part two never happened!!!!! abby who!!!, established relationship, cursing, half joel pov, unspecified age gap, hints to reader having a sliver of ptsd, jesse is alive and well because he is my prince and i said so, reader has dark pubic hair, masturbation, somnophilia (not discussed in this fic but she is a-ok with it) and therefore dubcon, sprinkle of praise kink, oral (f!receiving), someone comes in his underwear, these two goofballs are big in love word count: 5.5k

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It’s not in his nightstand.

Not hung over the newel post, either.

He said he left it on the kitchen counter yesterday, right after he got home; said he woke up this morning and it was gone. And then he muttered something of an accusation that someone had tidied it away and forgotten where, and that started a whole new argument.

You know what, Joel? You’re following his tall figure as it sways down the hallway, his strides longer and considerably smoother than your flurrying shadow in his wake. Maybe if you weren’t going out today, we wouldn’t be having this problem.

His chin tilts upward, salt and pepper scruff angled to the ceiling with a ha slung from his throat. Yeah, he tosses a glance over his shoulder, we’d just be havin’ it tomorrow, instead.

You scoff in response, stepping where his boots lift off from, following the heavy thud thud thud like a cat at his heels until he’s rounding the corner towards your bedroom.

You pass over the messy trail of your jeans and Joel’s pajama bottoms, your underwear and his leading in a trail to the unmade bed – sheets like a rippled wave painted golden by the dawn.

The two of you split off – Joel lifts the cotton and watches it float back down over the flat of your mattress. Nothing.

You take the closet – the squeal of metal on metal harsh in your sleepy ears as you shove the hanging clothes aside, swiping around at the floor. Also, unsurprisingly, nothing.

Deflated, you straighten, stars peppering your vision and a tatty sleepshirt pinched in your fingers. Led Zeppelin – some band Joel was into before everything went to shit. You’ve listened to him out on the porch before, plucking strings in time with the record wobbling on the turntable inside.

The collar torn, sleeves pecked with holes, print lost to the years and the dryer – but each time you drape it over your shoulders, he smiles and hums some song from a world you’ll never know.

It’s sweet, when you’re in the mood to be wooed.

Which, incidentally, is not right fucking now.

His eyes flit down to the peeling, grayscale image – and that same smile attempts to bloom on his lips. That’s cute, but it ain’t my holster, pretty bird.

His smirk dampens quickly when he looks back up, snuffed by your stony expression.

You whip the tee down to the foot of the bed. You are a piece of fuckin’ work sometimes, do you know that? you growl, storming by him for the en suite.

Joel’s rough hand slips around your wrist, tugging gently but letting you drag him through to the bathroom.

Just go, Joel, you groan, the chill of the room prickling goosebumps on your naked legs. Give me some peace and quiet. ‘s not like I’m gonna be seein’ much of you today, anyways.

Is that what this is about? His voice echoes in the morning blue, round in your ears as you hang your head over the sink. Pickin’ a fight ‘cause you’re pissed I’m goin’ out?

I didn’t start the fight, you protest. You’re the one who lost his holster.

Didn’t lose it… he mumbles, lips closing around the sentence when he catches your glare in the mirror. He crosses one ankle over the other, toe of his dusty boot on the cracked tile, and sighs. What do you want me to do, baby? I gotta do my job.

On Valentine’s Day? When I worked extra to get it off, and you can’t even get your brother to swap one shift?

Joel’s expression seems to stiffen, tense with a realization that you know, and now he knows, too – he should’ve had days ago. A weighty breath falls from his nostrils, admitting some kind of defeat, and then he’s wandering carefully over to you, two hands curved over your shoulders.

He lowers his forehead onto the nape of your neck, a slow breath which flutters the loose collar of the flannel you’re wearing and sweeps down your spine. I’m sorry, pretty bird. I didn’t know it meant that much to ya.

It doesn’t, you admit, adding, usually. I just thought we could have a day to ourselves, for once.

He’s nodding, sweep of his fringe tickling the slope of your skin. It’d be a lot more romantic than spendin’ it with Jesse, that’s for sure.

Your bodies fall together with a shared laugh, a bright and charming thing in the dull bathroom light. Joel kisses the soft cushion of your shoulder and hooks his chin over, beard grazing your skin.

I’ll be back before you know it. ‘n then we can do whatever the hell you got planned for us, hm?

He’s steady behind you when you lean back, turning to place a damp kiss to the hinge of his jaw. A reply, a plea – a promise.

In the echoing dripdripdrip from the faucet, Joel pulls apart from you, two fingers pinching the hem of your shirt to pull you back into the bedroom.

You wanna walk me to the gate? he asks, pulling the zipper on his jacket.

What about your holster?

He smiles. I’m sure I’ll survive without it. C’mon. Put some pants on.

February is bitter even by Jackson’s standards – a bite of ice in the air which numbs the tip of your nose and stings the helix of your ears. The chill slips a long, sharp finger down the collar of your – Joel’s jacket, and you wrap the baggy canvas tighter around yourself.

Told you to wear som’ thicker. Joel sighs, grip light around the strap of his shotgun. His elbow nudges into yours, a wide arm wraps around your shoulder and draws you flush against his side. Head on back if you’re cold, he says, rubbing until the friction warms your upper arm.

I’m fine, you lie, eyeing the line of horses up ahead. The eager crunch of their hooves in the frozen ground, the pinkish light on their backs from the sky flooded crimson overhead – a warning from the horizon, you think.

It seems to agitate the animals as much as it does you, their heavy heads tossing nervously, ears flicking and inky eyes blinking.

Jesse meets you by the paddock, slipping Joel the reins of his horse with a curt nod, before hoisting himself atop his own.

It bleats from your lips before you can hold it back. Be careful.

Your frozen fingers claw around the zipper of his coat, tugging it upwards until it brushes against his bottom lip. The weather gets bad, you turn back. Okay?

He’s nodding, paying half his attention to your words, the other half to the little crease between your brows. Sure could use my holster against the cold, baby, he mutters, smirk lifting his cheeks and folding similar creases at the corners of his eyes.

Your eyes narrow, palms landing flat against his strong chest. Home soon?

He hums a little laugh, lips ghosting across your temple as he shifts by. Home soon, he mutters, breath steaming against your cold skin, and he leads the mare off towards the gate.

There’s a lot about Joel you admire.

Each part of him like a pebble stolen on a hike; some more jagged, a little more weathered than others, some well-rounded and smooth to the touch. Each one turned and turned and turned between your fingers until you’re fluent in every pore and vein, then dropped into your pocket alongside the others you’ve collected.

Clacking against one another until you arrive home, coat heavier with the happy burden of how much you love him. The same weight you feel behind your ribcage when you think too much about it.

He takes good care of you – has done since you first happened across one another. As if hanging his hunting jacket over your frail body was a wing over your shoulders; as if, from then on, you would never make a single move again without your grizzly bear of a man making it first.

Quiet about it, sure. Subtle. Opens the crook of his elbow for you to hook your wrist around as you wander through town together, and waits until you’re under the cover of nightfall or behind the close of your front door to do much else.

Asks with little more than a fleeting glance if you’re okay; a squeeze of your knee under the table in the dining hall. A conversation shared between closed lips and the meeting of his honey-flecked gaze, and yours. A language which lives and dies with the pair of you.

He’s guarded – and for all that he’s been through, you figure you can allow him that. Allow him his private peace. For all that he says without saying, all he does without making some big song and dance of it – there hasn’t been a second since you arrived here on the back of his horse, that you haven’t known he loves you.

It’s in him like it’s in you. A fever which broke at the first touch of his hand and yours, the first meeting of his warmth and your chill. Two opposites – cooling the painful sear in his heart, warming the barren frost in yours. Something sewn deep into your flesh, carved right through to the hollow of your bones.

And Jesus, if it doesn’t drive you fucking insane.

The front yard needs tidied up after winter, you notice, as you scuff your way up the path towards the porch. Once the last of the snow dries up, you two can get to repairing the damage done by the blizzards and the gales: fitting new shutters, planting new bulbs.

A cycle you’re still getting used to: the upkeep of a place called home. The strange feeling of having someone you call the same thing.

Your extra shifts at the stables and Joel’s long mornings out on the trails mean your home has gone neglected for a few days. Dishes and cutlery left in the sink, a pile of laundry slowly sprouting to new heights like a wild plant each time you cast a wary glance at it.

It’s not like you’ve much else to do, given Joel won’t be home for at least another couple hours. So you shuck off your jeans, letting the tail of his shirt dangle from your behind, and pick your way around each room – wiping counters and dusting corners, humming along to the crooning old records as they spin in the background.

Playing house at the end of the world. Pretending to listen for the tired exhale of a yellow school bus, mimicking the electrified babble of radio presenters between each track.

The bedroom is arguably the worst offender. Bedsheets used a few days too long, clothes strung across the floor – the relics of a late one at the Tipsy Bison. It’s no wonder you’re so fucking tired.

Echoes of stumbling footsteps and hushed, drunken giggles loop your ears, the groaning bedsprings and blunt thud of the headboard. You pluck the underwear and socks one by one, your body wincing around a satisfied ache still lingering, and shuffle over to the laundry hamper, lifting the lid to –

The dopey smile on your lips dissolves instantly. You gotta be fucking…

The buckle glints in the light, silver blinking up at you from its bed of dirty laundry. The tan strap coiled and neatly slung through its fastener; the pouch empty. Awkward and ashamed, lying there in front of you. Apologetic, almost.

Your eyes roll closed; a short, hot breath seeping past your lips. A silent promise embedding beneath your tongue to take him by the sleeve as soon as he crosses the threshold, force him to lift the lid himself. An I told you so already brewing in the pit of your stomach.

The holster’s actually pretty heavy when you lift it up in the light. Leather a little worn, stitching frayed where it should clip around his belt.

It’s the size and width of him: a thick, toned thigh slotted inside the loop of leather, fixed by fingers long void of feeling when he’s been riding to the outpost, chasing infected, plunging his knife deep into their necks.

Patrol was never your thing. Joel took you out just once – but there are cracks in your past which threaten to split you in two, it seems, the longer you spend outside the settlement walls. Phantoms which follow close behind in the form of snapping twigs, of the wind rustling in the trees overhead. Shadows living in your periphery with curled sneers and spits of filth.

You lasted twenty minutes, that first and only day, before Joel had your horses tied together and your body shelled in his own, taking you straight back home.

But the thought of this around his thigh, the thought of him adjusting it to the waistband of his jeans; his hand floating down to settle gently atop it when he’s listening for danger approaching, two fingers slipping into the trigger guard.

It…stirs something.

You pad over to the bathroom, hopping as you step into the strap. He wears it on his right leg, right? You pull it past your ankle, ball of your foot slamming clumsily back down on the tile.

Adjusting it to fit your thigh, you bunch the hem of his shirt in one fist and stare back at your reflection. Her nervous stance, hips swaying left to right as she peruses the figure opposite.

Who is she, this mirage – naked thigh decorated with her man’s leather, fingernails tracing the messy stitching and imagining the weight of his gun, keen in the pouch?

A strange aura of possession about it, like a part of him locked firm around a part of you, from however many miles away. You swear you can feel the ghost of his warmth on the inside of the strap, wrapped around your sensitive skin.

Yeah.

Stirs something, alright.

Joel’s been gone little over an hour. He’s probably at the outpost by now, logging All clear and pretending to let Jesse take the lead. Wide shoulders swaying as he wanders from room to room, a careful scope of the valley from each window, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

Ridges of his knuckles white around the grip of his shotgun, squinting down the barrel. Lines drawn between his brows and at the corners of his eyes like scores on parchment, focus and concentration tight on his face.

You sink back into the cradle of your bed, that divot where his body and yours meet each night. Each part of you intertwining with a part of him: the place where you become one. His smell and your touch, your giggle and his teeth.

A sudden, powerful thing which hammers through your veins and jumps your body for a few seconds – you pull the first orgasm from between your legs within a matter of minutes. The sight of his shirt disturbed over your stomach, the feeling of blood squeezing past taut leather enough to throw you under by itself, never mind the fast snap of your fingers deep inside your body.

Another – slower, lazier, still vibrating from the first – then almost a third, but the crinkle of sheets at your ears, the pillow-soft landscape beneath your heavy body, begins to sweep you off somewhere.

And in as little time as it took to entice you into the water in the first place, you slip beneath the waves.

The house is quiet when he finally makes it home.

Jesus, Joel thinks, what a shift.

Not one infected the entire run, he can’t quite believe – but Jesse caught his palm on some warped sheet of chain link fence, then almost passed out when he looked down and saw the scarlet seeping from his shredded skin.

The pair sat for half an hour, unsheltered in the unforgiving wind, waiting for the kid’s head to stop spinning and the cold to rob the feeling from his hand.

All Joel wanted was to get home to you. You, and your hips swaying as you stand by the stove, and his hands kneading into the velvet plush of your waist, and the smell of burnt sausages and spatter of angry oil from the pan.

He’s so late. He said he’d be as quick as he could, said you’d barely know he was gone, and he’s so fucking late.

But he’s here now, at least.

He’s home.

As he kicks off his boots, snow sprinkling from the soles onto the doormat, he notices the absence of your arms around his waist. The missing weight at the back of him, no ear flat against his spine and hands interlocked above his belt. No relieved, I missed you, no nuzzle of your head under his arm.

The house is still and dim. The turntable spins in the corner, a dead crackle playing nothing for no one. Joel sniffs, eyeing the room and its new, orderly form: the books slotted neatly on their shelves, the rings of coffee wiped clean from the table.

Lifting the needle from the record, Joel calls out, Baby?

Maybe you’re in town somewhere. Maybe you’ve gone to spend the morning with the horses. But then, you would’ve been watching for his arrival. Would’ve skipped out from the stables and swung around his body, a gleeful smile and an outstretched hand. Take me home, cowboy.

And you wouldn’t have left the lights still burning, the player still turning. Your coat is still on its hook, smaller and brighter and where it belongs on the right of Joel’s. The cushions on the couch are fluffed and smooth, perched contentedly in place; the curtains draped in their tie backs.

You’re home. You’ve been home all morning.

So where the fuck are you?

Joel crosses over to the bottom of the stairs, blinking up at the painted cowboys and horses staring down from the landing. Calls your name, a faint singsong as he slowly ascends the stairs. You up there?

Down the wintery dull hallway to the bedroom door, figuring he knows the answer. And he’s right, isn’t he, when he nudges the door open and peers inside, spots the tiny lump of you in your double bed. Sunk deep into the mattress – covers you’d come in here to change, swallowing you whole.

A crooked, exhausted smile pulls across his lips; his thumb hooks around a belt loop, knee cocking.

You’re so…perfect. So heavenly, so still like this – stretched out on your front, breathing in the scent of his pillow and breathing out little puffs of air.

Joel leans over you, a heavy hand pushing into the mattress above your shoulder, and runs a featherlight knuckle over your cheek.

Pretty bird? he whispers, lighter than the long breaths from your sleep-swollen lips.

You don’t stir. No movement, save for the rise and fall of your shoulders wrapped up in his flannel.

Joel feels a pang of guilt, numbed only by the chill still through his body: he woke you this morning, before even the sun had lifted her head. Had you hunting all over the house with him, for some dumb holster that he wound up not even n–

His eyes trail down the shape of your body, draped in the sheets like white marble carved into the round shape of something beautiful, hands following the curve of your thigh. His wrist freezes when it meets the odd bulge of something, an awkward bump beneath the cotton.

He peels the sheet back, lifting it from your shoulders, your waist, your hips – until your angled thigh lies on full display for his feasting eyes.

His fucking holster…wrapped tight around your fucking thigh.

A disbelieving laugh at first – a She told me so, before he notices the indents in your skin, the stretched leather snug around your leg, riding higher than it should at the doing of your slumber.

Christ, baby, he breathes, stare glued to the folds of plaid hooked around the belt loop. Following the tatty hem down past your hip, along the underside of your ass – riding up some, right where your legs part.

And between them, all sheer and thin, twisted around itself and slipping between: your underwear. The threading of pubic hair peeking over the frilled hem of it; the sight filling Joel’s mouth with saliva.

A heavy heat forms in his jeans, an irritable weight which aches when he moves; which hardens when he pictures the image of you in his bed, his shirt, his holster wrapped around your thigh – playing with yourself while he’s been gone.

Fuck. Fuckin’…shit.

He lowers, running lips he knows are freezing cold along the burning surface of your skin, tongue slipping past his teeth to drag a wet trail along your thigh.

Your leg shifts under his touch, the startle of his chilled fingertips behind your knee, nuzzling of his nose where the holster sits smugly on your thigh. Smelling like leather and salt, the sticky sheen of sweat still glowing on your skin.

Joel takes your waist in two hands – he can’t fucking help himself, can he? – and turns you, patiently, watching as you roll onto your back so he can drag you further down the bed. Tongue flicking at the corners of his lips, thirsty for something he only wants you to feed him.

Slow, slowly. Every effort put into not waking you, to keeping you in this peachy haze between asleep and awake; your movements long and staggered, held firm against the mattress by the weight of your doze.

With a sigh, your jaw turns to one side. Joel pulls you in, kneeling at the edge of the bed with your socked feet resting on his shoulders. His shirt gathers around your waist; your hips and the thin twine of your underwear spotlighted by stripes of weakened sunlight spilling in through the blinds.

Oh, pretty bird, he groans, slipping his open palms under your ass, rough and squeezing the pillows of flesh in his hands. This all for me?

A moan wrapped in a hefty breath twists from your lips. Your knees fall limp; legs open almost eagerly, like your body inviting him in. And he accepts, takes it with eyes blown black and hungry lips parted – leans in and nestles his nose against the thrumming heartbeat pounding through your clit.

Such a good girl, he whispers, closing his lips in a kiss over your clothed mound, and your hips jolt.

You’re so fucking warm. So wet; sticky and so ready for him. He kisses your folds, suckling gently and letting his tongue dart along the inseam of your lips in flicking movements – collecting the taste of salt and feeling his cock throb against rough denim.

Off? he asks – you and the room and himself – fingers hooking around the underwear rolled on your hips.

When your back arches, body feeling the loss of his tender kiss, rolling like a wave seeking to crash against the steady rock form of his – he smirks to himself.

Joel nods. Off.

He takes his time peeling them from your body, watching as more and more of his paradise is revealed. The waves of your folds, the sheer glisten of arousal along them; the dark hair peppering either side as damp and slick as the skin beneath it.

Your panties drop from a hooked finger without a sound and he turns back, hovering over your waiting cunt with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Out front, voices call back and forth to one another – some neighborly greeting and affable conversation – but Joel doesn’t hear. Deafened to anything but the sound of your sighs and his own blood hammering through his ears.

It’s a little rushed, a tad rough, the way he presses his lips back to yours. The way his beard grazes against your most sensitive spot, and the gasp he swears he hears lift from your tongue.

But fuck, he’s missed this, the way he always does – without knowing, without actively thinking about it, without knowing it was even at home waiting for him. If his mind weren’t on an entirely different planet right now, he’d curse that goddamn chain link for holding him up, for keeping him away longer than thirty seconds from the sweet little angel resting in his bed, and the sweet little pussy between her legs.

He parts your thighs wider, tongue dipping lower and deeper as he laps at your core, almost fucking panting against it.

You squirm lazily beneath him, shoulders tensing and untensing, a half-limp wrist lifting to pet his hair and an attempt at his name between your lips. Joel, you whimper, thick with sleep and something more dangerous.

I know, baby, he’s telling you, I know, and his tongue slips inside again. His hips grind into the mattress, cock an agonizing stiff against the sturdy edge. He can feel the wet in his boxers, the precome sticking to the inside of the cotton.

Fuck, he wants to be inside you so badly, so desperately.

Another gasp sputters across your lips, cut short in your throat when his teeth bump against your clit.

Too hungry, too brash, he thinks. You’re too soft, too open for him to let it go to waste. Not like this.

He pulls back, a filthy thread of arousal and saliva between his open lips and yours, and places a sodden kiss to the inside of your thigh.

But you whine, you poor little thing – your head twisting to the other side, a second hand now blindly surfing across his shoulder, past the brush of his beard and sifting through his still-chilly hair. The loss of attention to your pussy aching between your legs; your hips lifting weakly to meet the scratch of his chin again.

And that same sound – that same Jo-oel – a sound like song, like saccharine dripping over his shoulders.

So, he lifts a hand – two middle fingers coming together to push open your cunt, instantly sliding in knuckle-deep. Sucked in by the wet mess left behind by his lips, stretching you out with slow, round movements.

You’re slowly stirring, blossoming from your sleep and turning slowly back into this world. The cold edges seeping in, the warm flush of pleasure sharpening at their meeting. He’d do anything, he thinks, to keep you here; keep you teetering on the edge, tangled up between your world and his.

J– oh, fu-uck, you whine, and he can tell you’re still blinkered by sleep. But you grind on him again – a long, languid movement which seems to spatter out at its end when the coarse hair of his beard catches against your clit.

The breath stops in your throat, punching out in a shuddered moan. Joel could come just from the sound of it.

You gonna give me one, baby girl? he pleads, forearms clamping down on the underside of your thighs. Desperate – desperate to feel you, hear you, taste you as you come undone. Just one.

You’re writhing around beneath him, as needy as he is. A winding which matches his, coiling at the bottom of your stomach; a feeling which pulls at the corners of your lips and shocks them into a smutty, half-conscious smile. Your eyes roll back, fluttering open and then snapping shut when the light floods in.

There, you say, clearest so far, movements the strongest he’s felt. Your fingers root in his hair, rough over his scalp. Keep – keep doin’ that.

Joel smiles against your mound; a cocky thing, emboldened by the sound of that little Texan twang, the curl of an accent which doesn’t belong to you. Rather, a result of your years spent with him, watching the way his mouth shapes the words, learning the low swing and swirling melody of his tongue.

As if he’s as alive within you as he is within himself; every little thing Joel knows is him, injected into your bloodstream – his dry wit, his blunt honesty, his thick fingers and his insatiable tongue.

He slips in a third, flicking them perfectly inside of you. Beckoning your release; tongue sitting in wait, a resting point for you to grind your clit against.

And he wants it as much as you do: wants to feel the clamping of your body around him, wants to taste the flood of your orgasm as it shocks through every bone in your body.

Wants to pull three soaked, pruned fingers from your pussy and slip them over your tongue, letting you clasp your fingers around his wrist; watching the half-dozing flutter of your eyelashes as you suckle on them and make those pretty little sounds for him.

Your hand knots tighter in his hair, pelvis circling steady against his suckling lips. He can smell it on you: smell the need seeping from your pores. The sleep spilling from the corners of your mouth, the happy whimpers and quiet cries for more, more, Joel, more.

And – Shit, he breathes against you, feeling a sudden rush of electricity he knows all too well between his hips. Not now, not now not before he’s been inside – Shit, baby, gotta let me go.

You whine in refusal – a petulant sound, all stubborn and greedy. ‘m so close, I –

Pretty bird, he groans, lifting his jaw. He places a messy kiss to the crease between your core and your thigh, wrist stammering with his sudden movements. You gotta – you gotta let go, you’re gonna make me come –

You’re echoing him, mumbling the words gonna, gonna come – fuck, Joel, ‘m gonna –

Shit.

Not – Fuck – not right n– Christ, baby girl, you’re gonna – you’re –

Your walls spasm, clamping and relaxing, squeezing around his huge fingers. But it’s not that – it’s not the gush of warm fluid which seeps from between your legs, coating his knuckles and dripping into his palm.

It’s not the arch of your back, the way your breasts lift to the ceiling and his shirt slips below one nipple. Not the way your head rolls back against the mattress, a broken moan tearing in shards from your throat.

No.

It’s the way your hands leave his hair in an instant, and grip around the leather on your thigh. Skin stretching thin over your knuckles, thumbs between the strap and your sticky skin; hips still riding out your high as you ground yourself, holding onto his holster.

And it makes Joel come. Hard.

Harder than he knew possible, grinding against a mattress and the inside of his fucking jeans.

He falls forward, breathing a guttural moan into the soft swell of your stomach below your navel, fingers hooking into the baggy shirt around your arms.

Shitshitshit, he pants, feeling the warm ejaculate spurt from his cock and all over the inside of his boxers. Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck me.

His hips shudder a few more times, pressing hard into the edge of the mattress before he’s coming down, slowing to a stop – still a leaden weight on your stomach. His cock almost painful, overstimulated and oversensitive.

But then – something gently tittering. A bird singing, cooing above his head. The ground beneath his temple shakes, tremors with laughter. The dust twinkles in the sunlight, now brighter, golden, streaming through the window.

You’re awake.

Joel drags his gaze upwards, bleary and glazed with sex, and catches your eye.

Feel good? you ask, sifting hair away from his damp forehead. When was the last time that happened? Fourteen?

I don’t wanna talk about it, he mumbles into your belly.

Your chest jumps, a laugh which echoes into Joel’s ear. Tastes that good, huh?

It takes a mighty effort for him to push up on his palms, slowly crawling up the length of your body until his elbows plant firm into the mattress either side of your head. He groans as he lowers his lips, parting them to let you slip your tongue inside.

The kiss is slow, tender. Your bodies melding together, teeth clacking and jaws moving in sync. A sharp taste, sweet with a singe of bitterness to it. Perfect, you think, smirking against Joel’s cool lips.

He pulls away, lips tickling the tip of your nose deliberately.

With a giggle, you push on his chest. You should shower. You smell like patrol.

Joel cocks an eyebrow. You comin’ in with me?

Nope. I got even more laundry to do now, old man.

He entertains the quip with a subtle smile, a thing which softens the creases on his face and lights a twinkle in his eyes. Quietly, genuinely, in a way which makes your heart ache a little, he whispers, Sorry I was workin’, pretty bird.

You shrug. ‘s okay. You made up for it. And – I found your holster. You lift your knee, letting the buckle shine in the sunlight.

You did that, Joel agrees, nodding and glancing down at the thing. He hooks a finger around the strap, giving it a little shake. Maybe I oughta lose it more often.

Hm, you shrug, or I can just keep it safe for ya. Looks good, don’t it?

He feigns a disappointed smile, a resigned sigh before he looks back up.

Better ‘n when I wear it, he admits, and his lips crash down to yours again.

#same universe as 'wish you were here' - if you want #joel miller #jackson!joel #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #tw somnophilia #tw dubcon

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darlingofvalyria · 10 months

Text

❝Uncle Aegon said you threatened muña— threatened!❞

[ Aegon amusingly reveals to your children how his brother actually met you. ]

[ 2,272 ] | aemond targaryen x dr. wife!reader, modern au!

contains— no warnings, just fluff, innuendo - children (you & aems have four kids hsdhjsdhs) - aemond being a dick the first time he met you!! but within reason ig??? - you're a doctor, hon, cos you're so smart - aegon being the fun, shit-stirrer uncle help - hospital? accident but no graphic depictions.

a/n— enjoy my first fic mwa ♡ comment, like & reblog at will!

Every weekend, you spend your days with your mother in law and the rest of the family. Family— to your husband — is very important. Spending it surrounded not just you and your kids, but his mother, his siblings, and the afternoon sun casting a glow over the family home that he grew up in, through hells and heavens, was everything to Aemond Targaryen.

A few times a year, Aemond forgets his family also included his older brother.

Because when the birds are chirping, the music of the trees swaying in the breeze are calming, and you are lying on top of him on the hammock, lazily swaying about as he relished in the feel of your body on top of his, your warmth engulfing his senses, and a book he placed gently on top of your back— of course Aegon Targaryen was going to be the reason his oldest child and teenage daughter, was going to come thundering in big steps and a huff, smacking her hands to her hips and glaring at her father.

"You lied to me, daddy!" she half roared as she stopped right in front of him. Her siblings, like little ducks, followed suit as they clamoured all over the hammock, giggling at their mother who woke up from her drowsy reverie, blowing raspberries at them before turning amusedly at their daughter, then to Aemond.

"What'd you lie about, hon?" you asked with sleepy mirth in your eyes.

"Apart from Santa and the Easter Bunny incident, I have no idea." He kissed the top of your nose, then sighed, as you rose and untangled yourself from him, picking up your youngest, Daegon, only about four years old, murmurs of asking about his day and did he enjoy having tea with his grandma.

He then turned to his eldest daughters, impatience and betrayal exuding from them in spades (he often enjoyed how much his daughters resembled him; not so much in fiery-licked rage), and he sighed again before he turned to Valera, his eldest. "Can you elaborate better, little dragon? As far as I can remember, I have not lied to you since you were six."

"You said you met mom through Auntie Hel, you lied," your third child and eldest boy, Rhaegar, said with a happy little giggle as he hid from his father into the dress of your skirt, clinging to your leg. Both of you froze, you with a slow, widening smile as you realised the kids knew.

Aemond on the other hand, wasn't as amused. In fact, his entire soul froze.

"Who—"

"Uncle Aegon said you threatened muña, threatened!" your second daughter, Rhaella, shouted, eyes bugged out in disbelief. Rhaegar giggled again, no doubt remembering the chaos that ensued once their uncle told the magnificent story without his permission as his sisters lost their mind.

"I—"

Valera, often sweet and admired her father fiercely (she had three years of being an only child before Rhaella was born, and Aemond did not hold back in spoiling her), started to have tears in her eyes as his heart squeezed at the sight.

"You lied, daddy, how could you?" There was devastation in her voice that mirrored Aemond's, a panic growing deep in the pit of his stomach while you tried to muffle your snickers behind your youngest's head.

He would have glared at you if he didn't feel like he was about to lose his mind, instead employing his best 'please help me i will literally do anything you want' wide eye, before you chuckled, shaking your head as you put down Daegon who immediately plopped down on the ground, yanking grass. Rhaegar followed, trying to find bugs; a habit he formed by hanging out with Auntie Helaena.

As you keep a mindful peripheral eye on your boys, you gathered your daughters to you, they immediately latched to your torso as if they weren't thirteen and ten respectively, sniffling and glaring at their father as he was made public enemy number one.

You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from bursting into laughter as his face sunk deeper into despair, standing up, unable to stay seated any longer, offering them open palms of mournful looks and piercing glares at the manor behind his girls where the reason for his current predicament was no doubt giggling like an idiot.

"My loves, tell me, what did Uncle Aegon actually tell you?" you ask soothingly, running your hands through their silver hair. They looked up at you mournfully, and you bit your lip harder as you realised they even looked like their father in this moment.

"H-he said," Rhaella sniffed. "That he was angry at you. At the hospital."

"And that he yelled at you!" Valera wailed, shooting his father a withering look that had Aemond sinking into himself before he shot his own withering look at the house again, murder in his eye.

"I did not yell at your mother, Valera."

Amused, you raised an eyebrow. "And what would you call it?"

He shot you a 'you're not helping' look as he ave a disgruntled little hum. "I wouldn't it call it 'yelling', my love, merely raising my voice."

At the sort of confirmation, Val and Rhae let out a hiccuped wail. Aemond begun marching back at the house, fingers flexing with a mutter of, I'm going to rip him from spleen to spine, break every bone in his body and stomp on his—

You jolt out your arm, grasping his, laughing lightly as you brought him close and gave him a peck to the corner of his lips. This abated him, if slightly.

"Please don't kill your brother at your mother's house," you whispered against his lips, grinning.

He rubbed your back, more a habit he used to keep himself in control, whispering back, "Wouldn't be the first attempt."

"Then don't kill your brother with your children present, and your wife, who is a doctor. It is literally against my Hippocratic Oath, darling."

"It's why you're the doctor, my love. My job is to defend our honour freely."

"I really think this is your honour instead of mine." You giggled against his lips as he groaned, and you turned back at your daughters who frowned at both of you. You smiled calmly at them. "Okay, okay, girls. I don't think your Uncle Aegon told you the full story. Let Kepa tell you, hm?"

"Is it a good story?" Rhaella asked, wide eyed. "I don't want to know it if kepa sucked."

"If kepa sucked, does that mean we're bastard children?" Val frowned. "Lyanna said bastard children happens when fathers suck, her father said so."

Aemond and you shared a look, his in alarm, yours in complete mirth, before you burst out laughing, unable to stop yourself anymore.

"What is with everyone saying things to children?!" Aemond inhaled deeply. "Please let me explain. It's a long, longer story than just me raising my voice at your mother. Very interesting that your Uncle Aegon left out the part that I was panicking because of your Aunt Helaena and Uncle Daeron."

"Ha?" Rhaella's eyes comically widened further as she pulled away from you and moved closer to her father. In relief, like a cartoon cat dangling the cheese in front of a mouse, Aemond pulled her hand gently until he managed to wound her arms over his torso. "What happened to Auntie and Uncle?"

"They got into an accident, dōna mēre sweet one," Aemond murmured against her head, palpable relief as he kept her close. Rhaegar, bored brought himself and his little brother to their father, until Aemond swept them the four of them into the hammock, Daegon giggling and blowing bubbles at his father's rearranging of them so they wouldn't fall.

"Wanna go?" you teased your eldest daughter who was squirming not being part of the little huddle. Aemond opened his arms, smiling hopefully. You laughed as Valera gave you a kiss to your chest and raced to her father and siblings, moving around until they all managed to fit together.

The tree creaked as you placed your hands on your hips, pouting at them playfully as Aemond met your gaze with a shit-eating proud smirk on his face.

"Come, ñuha prūmia my heart."

"And risk crashing and burning? No, thank you. Go tell your little story while I avenge your honour and maybe get lemon cakes."

At the chorus of 'me toos' and 'yays', Aemond mouthed 'I love you' before you disappeared off, and he turned to your kids, keeping them close to his ribcage; little pieces of his hearts that grew legs and arms.

"Okay, ñuha byka zaldrīzoti my little dragons, so it all started with an accident that was entirely your Uncle Aegon's fault. . ."

Your Uncle Aegon had borrowed your Uncle Daeron's motorcycle to get to a frat party because the girl he liked would be there— this is irresponsible, children, and this is why you shouldn't be riding motorcycles and going to frat parties, yes Val, it's not as cool as it looks — anyway, his car had a broken taillight and he forgot to had it changed or tell anyone.

Your Uncle Aegon... didn't return the bike— or returned back home for the rest of the night, yes Rhaella, it was because he was, um, reading with the girl all night, like your mom and I do when we go to bed, yes Rhaegar, like how we read to you but, um, just with them.

Anyway! Your Aunt Helaena's little pup at the time, Dreamfyre, yes, baby, Dreamfyre was a puppy before she was a big dog, just like you— Dreamfyre got sick, and since Uncle Daeron was at home and he had a bike, Hel asked him. But then they saw it was gone, they had no choice but to take your uncle's car. They didn't notice the taillights.

They were speeding through, which is bad, yes, don't speed, but this was an emergency and Uncle Daeron was doing his best to hit every red stoplight when they tried to go one way but the light didn't go on, and they got into an accident.

No, Rhaegar, they didn't die, you know this, your Uncle Daeron is with Auntie Nyra, remember? And Aunt Hel is just inside, don't cry, baby. Ok, so where were we? Right, accident.

I get the call and I was panicking, out of my mind. All they said was that both of my siblings were at the hospital, declaring your uncle's plate number and I just knew it was his fault. I was already pretty angry then, and I might have transferred most of that to your mom.

Your mom, at the time, was a resident. A first year resident so she still had bad hours, and at the time, her shift mate had gotten sick and no one was able to take her shift.

Yes, dōna mēre sweet one, the times when muña can't come home fast enough. Because she has to be at the hospital to save people.

That night, your mom had been awake for 32 hours. She was not having a good day. She had lost a patient that day too, but I didn't know that, hm? She was just trying to get through the rest of her shift, having finished checking up on your uncle, when I had barrelled through like an angry beast.

All I could really remember was that I couldn't see your Aunt Hel, and your Uncle Daeron was on the hospital bed with a cast on his foot, and your mom had just looked away when I... well...

"— When you started ranting like an absolute madman, demanding better care of your baby brother when he wasn't even wincing in pain, asking for a real doctor because I looked five shies away from having graduated high school," you said, grinning wide as you handed your procured lemon cakes, and outright laughing at Aemond's sheepish, flustered look as both of his girls stared at him wide eyed.

"Kepa, oh my god," Val murmured, munching on her pastry. "That is so bad."

"You had no game," Rhae continued, sort of perplexed about the reason for her conception. "How did mom ever like you?"

"I would've slapped you," Val confirmed, nodding. "Just like you told me I would do if boys acted stupid."

As you couldn't stop laughing so hard you were bent over, your boys found your joyous display wonderful, pushed and kicked around their father while their sisters yelled about their lemon cakes, before reaching your skirts and you started spinning them around, plopping on the ground not a minute later, snuggling your babies close.

Aemond breathed a laugh, pulling his daughters close. "I know, I know, it was so bad. I was actually impressed your mother didn't slap me."

"I wanted to strangle him with the dextrose!" you chirped. "But I made an Oath, so I didn't. But ohh, with that haughty look your father sometimes get when he thinks— no, when he knows he's right? When he doesn't even need to say I told you so, he's just smirking like it?"

At your daughters— even your darling Rhaegar's triple nods, Aemond made a hm of offense, lips flattening.

"I made you three," Aemond said.

You coughed.

"I helped make you three. This is betrayal," he declared before his hands found its way to your daughters sides and tickled them with no mercy. Crows of 'Kepa, please!' between giggles warmed your chest.

"Aemond," you chidded as Rhaella gasped, snorting, and he stopped.

"So how'd you make mom fall in love with you?"

You and Aemond shared a look, your entire life stretching with one warm gaze, and a smile stretches both of your lips. Its lovesick, and familiar to your kids. Rhaella coos at it, but Rhaegar, having favoured his Uncle Aegon, makes a gagging noise before you started tickling him too.

"He apologised," you said. "Took him several tries. Your Uncle Daeron was actually ready to be discharged by the third day. Your Kepa brought him everyday to have a 'check up'."

"Daddy... that is still so lame," Rhaella whispered, in awe of how dorky her father is. Val is hiding herself in shame.

"Got her to accept my apology, and say yes to a date, you two should be grateful," Aemond said smugly.

"Why, mom?"

"Well, he was handsome for one." You snorted at his smirk. "He was sweet for another, explaining he just panicked, and I could understand that. Also he groveled for a long, long while."

"Even after the first date?" Val asked, eyes owlish.

You smirked. "Oh, definitely."

"I did deserve it."

"You did."

He smirked. "But I charmed you anyway."

You rolled your eyes. "You did."

"Come and give me a kiss, my love."

"Ewwww!"

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒

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alexias-putellas · 3 months

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between us (2) // a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso

a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso

part one

this goes out to my fellow cranky when tired girlies 🫡 also i don’t proofread my writing ever

the next morning, jenni had accidentally woke you up. you stirred in alexia’s arms as the alarm blared throughout the room, jenni quick to shut it off.

the loss of warmth is what disturbed you next, a sleepy whine falling from your lips as you instinctively reached out. jenni immediately moved to soothe you, rubbing her thumb along your cheek until you dozed back off.

it seemed that the universe was on nobody’s side but alexia’s that morning. as soon as jenni re-entered the bedroom, she dropped her phone, accidentally kicked your training bag, and closed a drawer a little too loudly.

“jenni?” your voice was thick with sleep as you sat up in the bed, the start of the sunrise giving you enough natural light to see your girlfriend moving around the room. “where are you goin’?”

“to the gym, amor,” jenni whispered, pressing a few kisses to your head. “go back to sleep with ale.”

“but it is so early.”

“i know,” she whispered again, kissing your lips quickly. “that is why you need to sleep.”

you huffed out a breath but laid back down, alexia pulling you closer in her sleep. you nuzzled into the blonde as jenni left the room but no matter how hard you tried, you could not get back to sleep.

when alexia’s alarm went off about an hour later, you were kind of relieved. she hadn’t noticed that you were awake, pressing her own kiss to your head as she silenced her phone.

she looked down at you again, a frown covering her face as she realised you were looking up at her. and you were utterly miserable.

“you are awake,” she said quietly. “why?”

“jenni woke me up,” you muttered and she reached up to brush your hair from your face. “i hate her.”

alexia laughed softly and nuzzled at your neck for a moment but you didn’t laugh like you normally would. you nudged her away instead, flipping onto your stomach.

“hey, it is not my fault you are awake,” she whispered, brushing your hair from your face again, and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “vamos, mi vida.”

you groaned and alexia climbed off you. it took a lot more coaxing but within half an hour, alexia had you both up and ready. you were sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at her like a lost puppy whilst you tugged on the hoodie she was wearing.

“you want mine?” she asked softly and you nodded.

without another thought, she helped you out of your hoodie and replaced it with her own. you hummed, snuggling into the material. alexia smiled and slipped on a different hoodie, taking your hands and pulling you up.

she laced your fingers together and lead you into the kitchen. you sat down by the table and watched alexia move effortlessly around the space, a delicious smell soon filling your nose.

alexia placed a plate in front of you and then a smaller plate next to it. she picked you up and sat down, setting you on her lap. she sighed when you nudged your plate away, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.

“you need to eat,” she said softly and you huffed. “if you would have just stayed in bed, you would not be feeling like this, amor.”

of course she knew that you went back on the xbox, you immediately assumed that jenni did too and that’s why she was so insistent on you going back to sleep.

“can’t do anything in this stupid house,” you muttered under your breath, sitting forward and snatching a fork from the table. “never get to have any fun.”

a sharp pinch to the thigh had you yelping and turning to glare at the blonde, using your freehand to rub where the pain was.

“you have plenty of fun, amor.” alexia said and you immediately shook your head.

“you just pinched me and jenni woke me up, none of this is fun,” you huffed, craning your neck back when she leaned in. “no i don’t want a kiss.”

“fine. go away then.”

her hands landed and your waist and she gently, but firmly, placed you onto the seat next to her. you scrunched your face up and reached for your plate, moving your food around whilst nibbling on something every now and again.

usually, alexia was the first to give in but much to your dismay, she was eating her breakfast seemingly without a care in the world. you wriggled in your seat, the tiredness suddenly starting to feel like restlessness.

alexia glanced at you from the corner of her eye. you’d eaten a lot more than she’d expected by the time you pushed your plate away. but the front door opening caught your attention and you ran off before she could say anything.

“hi jenni,” you hummed, easily nestling into the older spaniard’s side. “ale’s being mean.”

jenni’s body shook as she laughed, wrapping her arm around you. “oh, we are having one of those mornings, i see.”

after a kiss was pressed to your head, you made your way into the living room. you glared briefly at the xbox before turning on the tv. you could hear alexia lightly scolding jenni as you flicked through netflix, the blonde never liking it when jenni decided to go to the gym on a training day. you sort of understood where alexia was coming from, also not a fan of the idea of jenni pushing herself a little too hard and hurting herself.

but ultimately it was her decision and there was nothing you or alexia could say that would change her mind.

you stayed on the sofa for the rest of your free morning, drifting in and out of sleep peacefully. so when that peace was eventually shattered by alexia telling you that it was time to go, you were understandably upset.

“lo siento, mi amor.” she whispered, gently pulling you to your feet.

you grumbled under your breath but allowed her to lead you to the car. you climbed into the back, letting jenni and alexia take the front seats. and when the car was parked, you grabbed your bag and shot straight over to leila.

given the mood you were obviously in, alexia was ready to give you some leeway. but you trained perfectly like you usually would. she really couldn’t fault you.

where the sudden shift had come from, she didn’t know. it wasn’t entirely unwelcomed though. alexia and jenni watched as you chased mapi around the field, the two of you ignoring ingrid’s calls that it was time to go.

“you said she was in a mood.” the norwegian said as she approached your girlfriends.

“she was.” alexia sighed, jenni nodding in agreement.

the three of them winced as you tripped over your own feet, landing in a heap on the floor. mapi immediately helped you up and you ignored the throbbing in your ankle as you made your way over to where ingrid was staring at you both disapprovingly. you kept your head down and leaned into jenni’s side, missing the looks shared over your head.

your face scrunched up as jenni moved and your weight shifted, lifting your foot for a second to relieve some of the pressure. alexia gave you a look and you smiled innocently in return, quickly covering your mouth in a pathetic attempt to hide your yawn.

you watched as alexia’s shoulders sagged slightly and honestly, you did feel bad. you were well aware of how much of a pain you could be when you were tired. or injured. so you promised yourself that no matter how bad you felt, you were going to try your best not to give your girlfriends grief for the rest of the day.

ᡣ𐭩

you really did try.

but when jenni disturbed your brief nap to remind you that it was indeed your turn to host team bonding night, you were devastated. your good mood quickly dwindled after training as the pain in your ankle got worse and the exhaustion began creeping up on you, your patience had been wearing ever thin.

by the time the other girls had arrived, you’d already snapped at alexia and jenni a few times, for reasons you didn’t quite understand. they weren’t mad at you though and you knew that. you were clearly irritated and even if you hadn’t outright mentioned it to them, you were favouring your ankle and moving very gingerly on it, but you still felt bad about it deep down.

truthfully, the night wasn’t as bad as you’d thought. you stayed very close to leila, practically ending up in her lap at one point.

and there were a few times where you were so close to punching lucy because of how loud she was being, along with pina and patri, but the thought of further hurting your ankle was enough to keep you firmly by leila’s side. this didn’t go unnoticed by her or your girlfriends.

it wasn’t unusual for you to be glued to leila every now and again, the spaniard being one of your closest friends but that didn’t mean it didn’t sometimes bother your girlfriends. especially since they both knew that you were far more likely to tell leila about your ankle.

but you didn’t. you simply ignored the pain and found excuses to sit still for the night. and when it was time to wave your friends off, you were hesitant. but you did, not wanting to come off as any ruder than you already might’ve.

you collapsed onto the sofa once everyone was gone, eyes fluttering shut as your body relaxed at the promise of finally getting some sleep.

of course, it didn’t last long.

alexia really hadn’t meant to wake you up. she had no choice but to check your ankle whilst you were sleeping, knowing that you wouldn’t let her near it if you were awake.

the blonde quietly shushed you when you stirred, stroking her fingers along your leg to soothe you. jenni entered the room then, ice pack in hand. alexia took it from her, smiling softly and gently laying it across your ankle. when you gave no reaction, she carefully pressed on it and pulled it a little tighter around your skin.

you moved then, a small whine falling from your lips as you tried to roll over. jenni gently pushed you back and alexia kept her grip on your legs, holding you still.

“ale.” you murmured, still half-asleep as you pushed yourself to sit up, wiggling your foot in hopes of conveying the question you were too tired to ask.

“you hurt your ankle, cariño.” she told you, your eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“does it still hurt?” jenni asked quietly and you turned to look at her.

“no, s’okay now.”

despite your sleepy protests, alexia insisted that you keep the ice pack on for the full twenty minutes with the promise that you could go straight back to sleep afterwards. so when she announced that time was up, you were more than willing to be scooped up in jenni’s arms and whisked into the bedroom.

by the time alexia joined, you were dozing again, curled into jenni’s side. you reached back and patted the space behind you, humming in content when you felt alexia’s arms wrap around your waist, her chest pressed to your back.

“m’sorry for being a brat.” you mumbled, burying your face into jenni’s shoulder.

you could feel alexia’s body shake as she laughed, squeezing you before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

“oh, amor, we would not have you any other way.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso x reader

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running-with-kn1ves · 9 months

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Late Mornings

A/N: Just a short little thang I felt like writing. The idea of writing a smut w/ these two is very tempting 🧐🧐

Incubus x Gender neutral reader x Succubus

Summary: Just a normal morning with your secret succubus/incubus roommates, nothing odd here at all

“Hey, have you been going into my room lately?”

You looked down into your cup of warm tea, sticking your thumb in to feel the temperature.

Your female roommate scoffed, cutting herself off with a laugh.

“What? No. What kind of question is that, why would I go into your room?”

“Well,” You chest squeezes, your heart feeling like it was about to squish and explode. “I-- Every morning, my door is open. I never leave my door open; not when I’m not home, anyway. I’ve been paying attention to it more, and it’s no coincidence--”

“What are we talkin’ about fellas?” A raspy voice says from behind, startling you.

Your hand shakes, mug slightly tipping to leave tea on the white tablecloth. Shit, this was your grandma’s.

Your female roommate, currently still cooking with her back turned to you, let out a groan of disgust.

“Didn’t know the beast woke up before noon.” She chides.

Warm hands fall onto your shoulders, holding them still as if to keep you from getting up.

“You’re up, Gabriel?” You try to turn around to face him, but find that the male is already next to you, his warmth radiating off of him, part of it likely still remaining in the sheets he just tangled himself out of.

“You too?” He frowns, unattractive lines forming on his pedicured face. “I don’t sleep that late most of the time, you know. I have to get up for work by 10-- usually.”

“Yeah, when you don’t have a ‘guest’.” Your female roommate counters.

“Ugh shuddup Liz, as if you’re not the same. Besides, you know I gave that up a while ago.”

For some reason, Gabriel looked toward you while saying this, you in return giving him a confused look.

He massaged your shoulders, leaning all of his weight onto you as he nearly fell asleep again, yawning and closing his eyes.

“You believe me right, sunshine? Haven’t heard anything in these thin walls lately huh?”

You cringe at how he shoves his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling your smell so obviously it nearly makes you shudder from embarrassment. You would’ve shoved him off if Liz had turned around, witnessing it. But she still was turned cooking, making breakfast for you. She made enough for all three of you to eat, but you knew you’d be the only one with a plate when she was done.

“C’mon Gabe you’re suffocating me,” You pat his hand, hoping he’d stop himself from reaching over the chair to hold you. But he didn’t, instead giving you a awkward hug from behind as he rocked you back and forth.

“Blegh, don’t call me that; you know I hate it. Just gives me more of a reason to hang on…” He says, noting the way you shimmy in his grip, trying to make him let go.

Liz turns with a pan in her hand, dumping the eggs and bacon in it onto your plate, pulling Gabriels ear with her free hand.

“Let go.” She says, with a little more harshness than you would’ve expected.

“Mind your manners, you never learned how to share.” She glares daggers at him, flicking his nose as he backs off.

You’re too busy pulling at your neck, a wave of nausea and sleepiness coming over you, as if Gabriel’s exhaustion rubbed off.

“So mean, bitch..” He mumbles, stretching his arms as he goes to sit next to you. “Well, atleast I feel energized for the day.”

His face has a newfound freshness, dark circles less ingrained as he looks around the room.

Gabriel scooted his chair over noisily, sitting nearly beside you now despite your chair being at the short end of the table.

You let out a small sigh of exasperation, feeling what seemed like bruises on your shoulders and neck. Had he really pressed that hard?

“Stop messing with it, you’ll make it worse.” He said, bringing your hand down as you felt a strange indent in your skin.

“Make what worse?” You questioned. Could he see something on you that you couldn’t? Well, you hadn’t looked in a mirror since you woke up.

“What are your plans for the day?” Liz interrupted, holding a mug with one hand as she sat across from gabriel, moving her chair with her other hand. You always admired the grace she seemed to have when doing things, her balance and lack of clumsiness making her appear so capable. If it were you, you probably would’ve gotten the chair stuck on the rug, dropping the mug in the process.

Her chair was close, but not nearly as close as Gabriel’s. You watched her pour her coffee as you began to pick up your fork. Gabe held onto your other hand, petting it with his thumb as he grabbed a clean mug from across the table.

Trying to pull your hand away, you found that Gabriel’s came with it, holding on as if he was an extension of you.

“Gabe.” Liz barked, watching the scene unfold. Gabriel was mid-sip as he let go in an offended manner, throwing up his free hand and rolling his eyes from behind the mug.

She scoffed, muttering under her breath about his childness as she turned her attention to you.

“So, your plans for today, Bee?” Liz repeated.

You perked up at the nickname, having not heard it for quite a while. You much preferred it over Gabriel’s overly sweet ones-- It wasn’t even about him trying too hard, he was just naturally that sappy to a tasteless degree.

You looked up like a deer in headlights, not expecting the attention your roommates were giving now, since they were previously so occupied with one another. But they both awaited your answer, watching you shovel bits of cheesy eggs and overdone bacon into your mouth. You took a scalding sip of your tea, some of it dripping down to your chin as you tried to hurry to answer.

“You’re almost as bad as Gabriel,” Liz sneered, though with less conviction than she gave to the aforementioned male. “Take your time, don’t rush.”

She pulled a napkin from the holder, grabbing your chin like a mother would to her child. Though, you didn’t feel the napkin grace your face, instead her thumb was wiping away whatever remnants you left on your unwashed skin.

Satisfied, Liz licked her thumb clean, drying it on the napkin she pulled.

“So...?”

You cleared your throat, licking your lips under the hungry gazes of your roomates.

“Uh, I really hadn’t planned much, since its been my first day off since--”

“You should stay home with us; what do ya know, I have today off too.” Gabriel interrupts.

You look towards him, a cheeky grin covering his face as he pushes his socked foot against yours, hip nearly touching your own.

All of a sudden Gabriel yelped out, his knee hitting the table as Liz shot him a glare that you swore could paralyze. You hoped to never be on the receiving end of her wrath.

“While I don’t usually agree with the dimwit,” Liz commented, turning her attention back to you as her hard expression softened. “I think it could be nice to have a roomies day-- Just relaxing, watching movies, indulging in some needs… You know, just simple things.”

Gabriel nursed his foot, holding it as he nodded with a frown.

“I could do your hair.. Liz could take you shopping…” Gabe’s excitement had turned to slight pouting.

You thought about it for a moment. Why not? You had hardly spent much time with the two, even though they always seemed to be around, sucking up your energy and time like vampires. You swore it was a mistake to have two extroverts as your roommates.

There seemed to be something off about them too; something they wouldn’t say. But you didn’t mind-- especially since they had quit some of their more tedious habits like bringing nightly “friends” home, since you came along. You didn’t know how much longer you could handle the embarrassment of hearing their every move, every sound. Thankfully, you didn’t have to have much of a discussion about it, their one-night stands decreasing by the second week of your move-in.

“Awe please say yes,” Gabriel pouted, reaching for your hand as he bunched his own against the tablecloth, attention pulled back to you. “We hardly get your-- well, any time with you. C’mon, won’t you do it for us?”

Liz would’ve reprimanded him if it weren’t for the way your frown turned slightly upward. You took his hand, giving a dramatic sigh and roll of your eyes.

“Does that mean yes?” Liz questioned.

“I guess so. As long as we aren’t going extreme-- I don’t need a whole wardrobe change, OR a new hairstyle.”

You looked at Gabriel with your eyebrows raised.

“I’ll do the best I can to restrain myself.” He cackles, rubbing his hands mischeviously.

“Ah, I’m excited,” Liz says with a grin, pushing her foot towards yours. “I can’t remember the last time I got to go out with a… friend.” She gave you a smile that seemed out of place.

You smiled back, slightly forced as her cold foot ran up and down your leg, stroking above your pajama pants as she gleamed at you.

“Well we gotta get ready-- first, its my turn. I need to get you dressed and right for the day-- before missy here takes you for a shopping trip that counts more as an excursion.” Gabriel pushed out of his seat, leaving his full cup there as you took another bite of food.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” He pushed your head towards his face, giving a longing kiss to your cheek as you chewed. “I know where to find youuu.” He sing-songed, pressing a finger to your nose as he pecked the same area once more. He skipped back to his room, humming as he and Liz refused to break eye contact.

Was it normal for roommates to be so affectionate? You weren’t sure, but the rent was too cheap and they were too nice for you to say no to his advances.

“He’s right, its already eleven.” Liz commented, her busty body already dressed in normal day clothes that showed off the right parts; You had to admit, you were a little jealous of how well she knew how to dress for her body type.

Liz grabbed her mug with her fingertips, pushing your hair back and giving a gentle peck to your forehead.

“Don’t let him do too much, you’ll regret it.” Liz warned. She laughed a little as she walked away, your chewing stopping as you wondered what you had gotten yourself into.

You quickly finished your food, feeling another wave of sickly nausea pressing into your sinuses as your head went heavy. You were going to need much more than your normal amount of strength to survive those two today.

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silvermistcosmos · 2 years

Text

▬▬ enhypen’s reaction to their s/o sleeping on another member

PAIRING. enhypen x reader

GENRE. fluff // reaction

WARNINGS. n/a

# Heeseung

Heeseung smiled softly upon seeing your head rested against Sunghoon’s shoulder with your eyes closed. Not to say he wasn’t a bit upset that you were sleeping on one of his member’s shoulder instead of his, but that couldn’t have been helped since he had been working late.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Sunghoon asked, slightly concerned about what was going through the eldest’s head, but Heeseung only shrugged.

“I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t care. Of course I want to pull her into my arms, but she looks so sleepy. It’s pretty late right now. Let’s just wait until we get to the dorms to wake her up. I’ll pick her up later.”

When everyone made it to the dorms, you woke up to the car door being shut and opened your eyes to find Heeseung smiling at you.

“Did you sleep well, love?” He asked, stroking your hair.

“Yeah...I didn’t mean to fall asleep though. I was going to wait for you to finish working, but it seems that I failed to do so.”

“That’s alright.” He pinched your cheek softly, putting his hands under you and picking you up, “Let’s go to sleep together in the dorm, hm?” He said, having no intention of mentioning that you fell asleep on Sunghoon.

# Jay

“Hey, Jungwon, what was the-” Jay interrupted himself from talking when he saw your figure on the couch, head laying across Jungwon’s lap, “What is she doing there?” He pointed towards you with a brow raised.

Junwgon’s cheeks turned bright red upon Jay’s arrival, “I don’t know. First, she was sitting there on her phone, then her head plopped on my lap.”

“She just plopped?”

“I don’t think it was intentional. I tried shaking her off, but she had no response so I didn’t want to wake her.”

Jay nodded, “She’s not dead, right?” He asked half playfully before walking over to you and checking your breathing before shaking his head and pinching your nose, waking you up immediately.

You shot your head up, “Ouch!” You rubbed your nose with a small glare, “Jay, why’d you do that?!”

“Apparently you just plopped on Jungwon’s lap. How can you just plop on someone without being dead when that someone isn’t your boyfriend?”

“I was just tired...” You answered, “I didn’t even realize that I laid on Jungwon...sorry.”

Jay smiled cheekily, “Just next time, find me so you can lay your head on me.”

# Jake

Jake froze when he saw your head on Heeseung’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure yet if he should just ignore it and let you sleep or if he should give his hyung a lecture, or if he should just wake you up and give you a lecture or simply put your head on his shoulder instead. So many options were going through his head that he just stood there in a somewhat trance, debating in his head.

Heeseung interrupted his thoughts, “Jake, don’t even think about waking her up. She was up excruciatingly late last night until we finished practice. She must be exhausted.”

Jake nodded, agreeing with him, “But it’s so strange seeing you with her head on your shoulder instead of mine.”

“Are you jealous right now?” Heeseung teased as Jake took a spot next to you.

“No!” He responded a bit louder than he intended to, making you shuffle, your eyes slowly opening.

“Jake?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

“Great job.” Heeseung shook his head with a small smile.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I know you must be so tired.”

You shrugged, turning to face him and wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his chest to get comfortable, “You’re so comfortable.”

Jake giggled to himself, stroking your hair, “I’m happy to hear that. Just go to sleep now.” He said, Heeseung knowing darn well he was happy that you went to him.

# Sunghoon

Sunghoon was not having it. When he saw you and Niki on the bean bag, your head on his shoulder and his head on yours asleep, he instantly went to you both and crossed his arms.

He scoffed, clapping his hands loudly, “Okay, it’s time to wake up, kids.” He announced and kept his laugh in when he saw your tired, confused face looking around the room.

“Hyung, what was that for?” Niki groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“What were you and my girlfriend doing sleeping on the bean bag together?”

“We were watching a drama and must’ve fallen asleep...” You replied, sighing.

“Well that’s enough of that.” Sunghoon put his hand out and pulled you up gently into him, “Are you tired?” He asked softly this time, looking down at you.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his stomach, and pressing your cheek against his chest “Can we go cuddle and maybe take another nap?”

He gave into you with a small smile, kissing the top of your head.

“Ew, y’all are gross.” Niki whined, covering his face with the pillow.

"Then don’t watch.” He shrugged, walking to the bedroom with you to take a nap.

And ever since then, Sunghoon made it his goal to always be there whenever you were tired so you wouldn’t sleep on another member.

# Sunoo

You sat in between Sunoo and Jay in the car on the way back to the dorms from practice when you felt your head bobbing up and down from falling asleep and waking up. You didn’t notice when you felt your head tilting to the side and falling on top of a shoulder.

Sunoo looked up from his phone and pouted when he saw your head land on Jay’s shoulder. Why would you sleep on Jay’s shoulder when he had such a comfortable shoulder to sleep on?

He knew it wasn’t Jay’s fault, but feeling petty, he glared at Jay and crossed his arms, “Why is she sleeping on you?”

“I...don’t know. I guess the way the car moved made her head land on my shoulder.” He answered logically slightly intimidated, but also very much amused by the way Sunoo was acting, “Why? Are you jealous or something?”

“I mean, if the universe would just let her head land on my shoulder, it would be alright, but she landed on yours. The universe is against me!” He dramatically whined, banging his head against the headrest.

“You are so dramatic, oh my God! Just put her head on your shoulder. I don’t really care.”

Sunoo shrugged, “If you want me to.” He smiled, gently putting your head on his own shoulder, feeling proud of himself.

Even though he wanted to tell you that you were sleeping on Jay’s shoulder, he knew that you would be embarrassed about it, so he kept it to himself.

# Jungwon

You sat in between Jungwon and Sunoo on the couch at the dorms, blankets draped across you and all the members as you watched a drama on the tv with the lights off. A few episodes in and it was well passed midnight when you finally fell asleep.

Jungwon bit his lip when he saw your head laying on Sunoo’s shoulder, who also jumped slightly when he felt your head falling on his shoulder. Paying no attention to the tv anymore, Jungwon just watched as you moved your head to get comfortable.

“Um...” Sunoo started, “Y/n...” He shook his shoulder a little bit, which only made you squeeze your eyes tighter.

“Wonnie, stop moving.” You whispered, still half asleep.

“I’m not Jungwon. This is Sunoo.” He said softly and you jolted up your head, heat rushing up to your cheeks.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, Sunoo!” You said, moving your hair out of your eyes when all the members began to laugh at the situation, finding it hard to breathe with how hard they were laughing.

You squirmed with embarrassment, hiding your face in Jungwon’ lap while the others continued.

Jungwon patted your head and lifted his head up to the others, “Alright that’s enough. Pay attention to the tv now.” He said and the everyone immediately listened to their leader’s firm voice, sucking up their laughter and turning back to the tv.

He stroked your hair with a smile. He was thankful for being the leader sometimes, “You can fall asleep now, It’s okay.”

# Niki

Niki kept himself surprisingly composed when he walked into his room to find you on the gaming chair, in front of the computer with your head laying on Jake’s shoulder, who was sitting right next to you on the other gaming chair.

Niki blinked once before taking a seat beside Jake and turning on the gaming computer and pulling out the controller.

“It’s your fault by the way.” Jake spoke first, playing his own game, “You beat her yesterday so she spent all night trying to improve her skills on the game.

Niki chuckled, “That girl...” he started, smiling as he started his game, “How can she beat a champion of Mario kart?”

“Well maybe you should let her win next time. She was so determined to beat you last night that she looks like a panda right now.” Jake laughed.

“A cute one though.” Niki replied, winning the game and smiling, laying his controller down to take a glance at your cheek squished against Jake’s shoulder.

He laughed, “She’s drooling on you by the way.” He lied, making Jake jump up, jolting your head up.

“Hm?” You asked, eye bags under your eyes very visible as you looked at Niki.

Niki giggled at you, pushing your forehead with his finger, “Why would you stay up all night? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“I’ll beat you!” You rose up from your chair, “Just you wait, Nishimura Riki.”

“Okay okay...” He started, pulling your head to his chest, “but first, how about we go take a nap together then I can teach you all of my strategies.”

taglist: @love-4-keum @flo-i @deafeningballoonnacho @luveuly @tyunni @sulkygyu

if you want to get tagged when I post new writing pieces, just send me an ask and I’ll add you to my taglist

#enhypen reactions #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #niki #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #enha #enhypen masterlist #enhypen fluff #enhypen crack #enhypen comedy

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narislvr · 5 months

Text

── simp!abby drabble p.2 ₊˚ෆ

,, cws? none. pure fluff ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ── 750 words.

,, abby x fem!reader ♡ / college au

ᝰ.ᐟ continuation of this post !! -> pt III

₊˚ෆsimp!abby who can't help but fall in love all over as you doze off in her arms.

──

abby's not the type to fall easily. whether it be from the fear of getting hurt or her own stubborn want to focus on building her career and herself, romance just hadn't been a critical necessity in her life. but in the rare chance she does, she falls hard.

she had convinced you to spend the night at her dorm room, her roommate had gone out for the night leaving the room to her disposal and what better way to end the night than to have you wrapped in her arms?

you had protested at first, not wanting to keep her from being well rested for the annoyingly early class she had the next morning.

but fuck, the way she looked at you with a pleading glint in her eyes followed by the gentle kiss to the corner of your lips as she promised this would only help her rest better, had you giving in with a defeated smile.

strong arms wrapped around your waist as she buried her face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the remnants of the soft vanilla scented body spray while you quietly spoke about something she wasn't entirely paying attention to.

not that she didn't want to pay attention.

she just couldn't.

how could she when the woman of her dreams was laying beside her? on her bed, back hitting her chest as you wore one of her old Bruce Springsteen t-shirts in order to not wrinkle the pretty top you had been wearing earlier. (in reality she just wanted to see you in her clothes, but she wouldn't admit it when you jokingly teased her about it.)

It just all seemed so surreal to her.

Like, how in the world had she gotten so lucky?

sure, she had always cringed at the "lesbians move fast" stereotype finding it rather silly and unsenseicle, but in that moment she completely understood why.

as your voice became nothing more than a sleepy mumble, abby couldn't help but imagine future mornings where you two would be in the same position in your shared bed, under the roof of your own house, a dog laying at the foot of your bed as she talked about her day, you humming in response as you turned to face your then wife, cutting off her ramble with a tired kiss.

was she getting ahead of herself? Oh definitely.

and yet she couldn't help but long for that future to come true.

she’d only known you for a little over five months, but she already knew she wanted matching stockings by the fireplace, stolen kisses under the first snow, the smell of morning coffee, your charming smile as you woke up beside her, and she hoped you wanted that too.

the thought of all that alone was enough to send her into a lulling sleep. the best she's had in a while honestly, and she'd use that the following morning with a playful "I told you so" as she poked fun at your earlier hesitancy of staying over.

──

"thought your first class was at seven, why the hell is your alarm on for five?" you groan, woken up by abbys morning alarm as you turn to face your equally tired and sheepish girlfriend.

"morning run, hon. It's a good way to start the day," abby would hum, placing a sleepy kiss to your forehead in apology.

there was no morning run that day however, as she instead decided to sleep in another hour and set another alarm to get ready for class later.

──

“text me when you get to your dorm, alright? I’ll let you know when i get back from my last class so we can have lunch together.”

“i will, don’t worry, abbs. see you later then?”

she would rather spend the day cuddled up in bed with you, but alas, she couldn’t be too greedy, so instead she nods. her hands come up to caress your cheeks gently, pressing yet another kiss to her forehead as she smiles down at you. she only pulls away as you tease her that she’s going to be late, and even then, it was begrudgingly.

as she leaves the building, she can’t help the dopey smile on her face as the cool winter air hits her skin.

god, you had her wrapped around her finger and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#─ nananari writes ‧₊˚#abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson hcs #abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby tlou #simp!abby anderson #the last of us #shes def a gentle giant #yall im obsessed w her #pls keep requesting more simp!abby </3

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luvhughes43 · 7 months

Text

monday morning | lila drysdale au

lila, my love masterlist💐

summary: just some monday morning fluff<3

word count: 0.6k

“Mmm where are you going?” you groan as jamie jostles himself out of bed. he leans over his side and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I have PT this morning,” he replies simply, which brings last night's events rushing back to you. that's right, you thought. Jamie did tell you that he had an appointment last night you were just… too preoccupied to pay much attention to his… words.

jamie straightens up again, and you grasp his arm lightly to pull him back down to you. “I need a proper kiss if you’re going to leave me,”

jamie hums in response, leaning down to properly kiss you on the lips. you both melt into the kiss but before anything has a chance of developing, lilas loud shrieks fill the quiet spaces of your house.

“and… that’s my queue” you sleepily sigh as you pull away from your husband and kick the covers off of you.

“I can go get her,” jamie offers but you easily decline. you had some work to do from home today so it was probably for the best that you woke up now.

“make me a coffee instead?” you ask, to which jamie silently nods.

you walk into lilas nursery and the first thing you notice is her sleepy figure standing up in her crib. she’s leaning against the crib rail, her chubby baby hands holding her upright. she leans back when she sees you open the door, immediately making grabby hands for you.

you pick your girl up with ease, making sure to change her diaper and get her all situated before bringing her downstairs.

jamie, ever the loving husband, put on your favourite background tv show for you to watch while you lay with lila on the couch. “thank you jams,” you mumble softly as you sink onto your plush couch. your daughter rests on top of you, cuddling into you as she watches her dad move around the kitchen from over your shoulder.

you exaggerate a gasp, “is that your dada?”

you watch as lila giggles and smiles, mannerisms exactly like her fathers. “dada!” she repeats, nuzzling her face into your neck when jamie makes a silly face at her.

jamie sets your coffee on the side table beside you, before taking lila into his arms. “hi baby girl!” he coos much to lila’s delight. he rest’s lila on his hip before continuing to go through his morning routine.

“And now, I'm going to put the toast in the toaster!” jamie narrates, encouraging all of lilas babbles with nods and replies. “yeah! And I'm going to put mommys in again because she likes her toast burnt…”

“I like it crispy!” you pipe up from your spot on the couch.

Jamie hums loudly enough for you to hear before stage-whispering, “she likes it burnt” to your giggling daughter.

after drinking half of your coffee, you are awake enough to start helping with breakfast. you cut up some fruit for lila, and then move on to start making jamie’s protein shake. you’ve gotten the process down to a science, and you were quite proud that you managed to make it to your husbands liking. if there’s one thing you learnt about athletes through living with jamie, it’s that they’re very specific with their different drinks and routines.

you hold out the shake to jamie, who awes appreciatively. “have i ever told you that you’re the best wife a guy could ask for?”

“only a million times,” you smile, sticking your cheek towards jamie who swiftly places a kiss there.

“well it's going to be a million and one because you’re the best!” jamie smiles at you, and you can’t help but reminisce on how quickly things have changed between the two of you. one minute you guys are exes who hookup whenever jamie was back in toronto… and now you share a babygirl and have been married for three months. life was so good.

yndrysdale

liked by jamie.drysdale, sandyliang, and others

yndrysdale monday morning🫂💐

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jamie.drysdale my loves❤️

yndrysdale you're my love forever💗

trevorzegras ive got the cutest goddaughter😭😭

wagbff looks like the perfect monday!💘

user01 those flowers are so pretty!!

yndrysdale thank u! jamie has them delivered to the house every monday💗

user02 lila's the cutest baby i'm cryingg

user03 omg what's the third slide?

user04 y/n works with a bunch of designer/fashion brands lol

user05 we dgaf now post jamie

user06 ?

yndrysdale posted to their story!

#lila my love au #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale blurb #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #nhl fic

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mavrintarou · 4 months

Text

[3:45PM] Suna Rintarou (prequel of DD) [2]

Happy birthday to Suna Rintarou! I know I've made him a clingy fox but I honestly think this man is a clingy fox when he's in love.

Warning: clingy man and smut (18+)

Prequel (part 1) Prequel (part 3)

“So, what’s going on with you and this woman?” Osamu inquired, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

The glass cup froze at Rin’s lips, and the whiff of yeast in the beer hit his senses. Gulping his beer, he set the cup down. “It’s going…”

When he woke up alone in his bed two days ago, he was slapped in the face with disappointment and anger.

“Haah…” a bitter laugh escapes his dry lips, lips that he could still taste her from hours ago.

Rin slams his fist into the pillow she was sleeping on out of anger and frustration.

He frowned when his fist came into contact with what seemed to be a piece of paper.

Hey sleepy head,

I tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t budge. I was called in for an overnight flight, there was no one else near that could do it so I had to go.

I’ll text you when I land in Istanbul.

Y/n

Rin waited for her text like an obedient puppy that entire day.

Looking back, he can’t remember the last time he was excited to receive a text message.

[**note: The green color text is dialogue text message exchanged in the past]

Hey.

After leaving him hanging for over 15 hours, he can’t say he was elastic to receive a Hey from her.

Hey you. He texted back.

She quickly responded As I promised, I’d text you when I landed. Were you upset when I wasn’t there when you woke up?

Yes. He texted back. Very upset.

A little taste of your own medicine? :P

Rin let out a scoff.

Don’t be mad, I left you a note though, right?

She did, unlike him.

You did, not mad at all, sad but not mad. When can I see you again? He sounded desperate and was desperate, but he didn’t care.

I thought you said one date.

He chewed his lip, and quickly typed I didn’t specify…

You mean you haven’t had your full fill of me yet?

“No,” Rin answered out loud, his fingers quickly typing his response. Fuck no. If I didn’t make it very clear, Y/l/n Y/f/n, I’m very interested in you and want to get to know you more. He doesn’t know where this confidence is coming from, but he is going to piggyback off of it before he loses it. I don’t mean it as in your body, that’s a bonus. I know we are very compatible in bed, you can’t deny that. But I want to get to know you on a mental and emotional level too. And other physical levels too.

When he didn’t see her respond quickly, he groaned. She had the power to put him on his toes, he was willing to admit he was wrapped around her fingers.

His phone finally dinged a notification.

I’ll be home on the 25th.

It’s the 25th and he hasn’t heard from her, the last time they spoke was more than 48 hours ago.

Boundaries, his conscience is always reminding him. As if the universe is watching him and shaking their heads, they have been sending all sorts of videos and posts about dating. He’s been seeing them all over his social media platforms. He began watching dating tips and it opened his eyes.

But today was his birthday, and she said she would be home on his birthday. She didn’t specifically say on his birthday but on the 25th, his birthday, so he was going to convince himself she was returning for his birthday.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Hey, are you free for a call?

Instead of replying, he called her.

“Hey,” he breathed. He hurried out of the bar and shuffled away from the loud noise coming from the entrance of the bar.

“Am I… catching you at a bad time?”

God, I missed her voice, Rin thought.

“No,” his breath is visible against the cold January night air. “Are you home?”

“Yeah,” she sounded like she was shuffling around, “just ended my shift. Are you… still down to meet?”

Rin looked at his watch, it was already 10 PM, was she… implying…

“I’m out at the bar at the moment, do you want to come out?”

It was a moment of silence before she replied, “sure, text me the address.”

Twenty minutes later, Rin kept looking at the door, his eyes instantly at the door every time it opened but would look away disappointed when it wasn’t the person he was waiting for.

Atsumu followed his gaze, “are you waiting on your girl? Is she coming here?”

The corner of Rin’s mouth curved into a smirk, his girl. “Yeah, she’s coming.”

At last, the person he’d been waiting for walked through the door and glanced around the place. Standing up, Rin marches over towards her.

Y/n smiles the moment their eyes meet, “hey – “

The rest of her words are cut off as Rin pulls her into a hug. It was a full-on bear hug, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck and shoulder. “Missed you…”

Y/n pulls back and frowns, “had a lot to drink already?”

He nodded his head, his bangs flapping.

Y/n reached to brush his bangs away, “where’s your table at?”

He shook his head, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his chest. “Let’s go…”

“Go where? Shouldn’t we at least say hang out for a little bit – “

“No, we can go, go anywhere… I’ve had enough drinks for the night.” It was true, he didn’t want to drink anymore now that Y/n was here right beside him. He just wants alone time with her.

He groaned when he heard his name being called by Miya twins. Looking over his shoulder, he cast a glare at them to shut up but that only taunts them to shout his name even more.

Before he could do something, Y/n dragged him towards the table.

“Oho! You’re Suna’s girl?” Atsumu’s loud voice rang throughout the bar. “I’m Atsumu, this is Osamu, we’re high school buddies of Suna’s.”

Y/n smiled at them returning the greeting and all Rin could think about was how he was not happy to share her smile with his friends. Her smile was his and his only.

“Okay, Suna, stop glaring at us, go.” Osamu waved his hand in a shooing manner. “Happy birthday by the way.”

Rin watched Y/n’s eyes widen before she looked at him, “that’s right, it’s your birthday!” She leaned over and waved at a waitress, “a round of beer and shots at table 3 please!”

“Rin…” Y/n shakes him by his chin, “put in your passcode…”He opened his tired eyes and stared at his door lock, his mouth opened but Y/n covered his mouth before he could speak. “Just press it, don’t say it.”

He moved her hand, mumbling, “how do you not know…”

Y/n frowned, “I don’t know and I shouldn’t know your passcode, we’re not that close yet.”

Rin stood on his own and held a finger, “watch,” he used that finger to press his passcode in. “Now, you know.”

Y/n looks away with a smile tugging at her lips, “get inside.” She pulls at the door and drags him inside.

His head was pounding. He stares at the ceiling contemplating his life choices from last night.

A sigh of relief comes from his left and his head turns immediately.

He was 99% sure it was Y/n with her back facing him but there was that 1% that left him feeling uneasy. He couldn’t remember how he made it home but he was sure that he remembered seeing Y/n come to the bar… it was everything after that that he had no recollection of.

It was most definitely Y/n, she fit perfectly beside him just as he remembered. Carefully, he leaned over to get a glimpse and silently sighed in relief when it was her.

His brows frowned when he noticed the fresh blue-purple bruise on her right cheekbone. Without thinking, he flipped her on her back, waking her up. “What happened to your face?” He carefully cupped her face, his breath hitching when she flinched. “Who hurt you? Who gave you this bruise?”

“You, you did,” Y/n murmured, closing her eyes. “I’m very tired, I haven’t slept in over 24 hours. So let me sleep please.” She shifts and wiggles until she can pull the covers over her.

That’s when Rin realized they had been sleeping on top of his comforters instead of under.

He rolled her on her back again, “I’ll let you sleep in a bit but tell me, how did I give you this bruise? Did – did I hit you?”

She opened her left eye and stared at him. Genuine concern was written on his face making her think twice before she teased him. She didn’t doubt at all that he would ever lay his hand on a woman in violent ways, she can only imagine all the things running in his head. “No, Rin, you did not hit me. You head-butt me instead, on accident of course.”

She explained how she brought him inside and was trying to get him in bed when he tripped and knocked the both of them on his bed. His head collided with her cheek painfully hard making her see stars for a few seconds. He knocked out, locking her beneath him. She had no choice but to just throw his comforters over them instead of getting under.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, eyes on her bruise. “Can I… sleep beside you?”

“Sure,” she smiled tiredly and closed her eyes, instantly falling asleep once again.

She must have been so tired and she still came out to the bar. He thought to himself. As gently as possible without waking her up, he pulled the comforters up to her chin. She was so deeply asleep she didn’t stir when he pressed a kiss to her temple and a faint one to the bruise.

Y/n was not used to having someone cuddle against her, let alone a 6’3 grown man.

But she didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

Looking at her watch, it was the late afternoon already. They had slept their entire day away.

That was something she was used to, whenever she would return from flying halfway around the world. She would need half a day to a whole day to readjust to the time zone.

Except this last flight. She left in a hurry as soon as she could and dropped off her luggage at home. She should have showered and would have but he had called her.

She quickly sprayed some perfume and left her place to meet him.

Y/n couldn’t count how many times she had reread his text message.

I don’t mean it as in your body, that’s a bonus. I know we are very compatible in bed, you can’t deny that. But I want to get to know you on a mental and emotional level too.

If she was honest with herself, she would say Rin was head over heels for her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to it, but she had never had someone younger than her show this much interest in her. She would admit that she did not realize how much younger he was to her. She thought he was her age if not older.

With her lifestyle revolving around her career, having a committed relationship was not a priority for her. If it wasn’t for his persistence and foolishness in kneeling in front of her in public, she would not have given him a second chance.

It’s an unspoken rule that you don’t have second times with the same person that was meant to be a one-night stand.

But Y/n herself… couldn’t help but give in to him.

Enjoy it while you can, she told herself.

A low groan rumbled from the body that was squishing her, “are you hungry?”

Y/n thought for a second before responding, “yes, now that you mentioned it.”

Rin lifts his head off her shoulder, his hair flopped upward messily. His eyes zeroed in on her bruise. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Did it get uglier?” Her tone is teasing, she reaches to touch it but Rin catches her wrist.

“No, take this as a compliment but you can make a bruise look beautiful.” He kissed her knuckles. “Come, let’s go get something to eat.”

Rin didn’t want to part from her. He had a feeling they would go their way after this meal.

He had ordered food and had it delivered to his place to avoid having Y/n go out in public with the bruise on her cheek.

So he took his merry time eating his hangover Miso soup.

He turned a blind eye each time she would tilt her watch to check the time.

“Are you regretting your life choices with alcohol and beer?” Y/n teased watching him sigh and stare at his soup. Y/n frowned when he looked up at her like a child afraid to ask a question. “What?”

“Are you going to leave after this?” He finally asked the question that had been eating him up inside.

“Do you not have work tomorrow?”

He shook his head, “no, I have the rest of the week off.” He waited a heartbeat before asking, “what about you?”

It was Y/n’s longer time off. Once a month, she’ll get four to five days off before resuming her hectic schedule again. Usually with her time off, she spent the time relaxing and running any errands she needed to while home.

Without any set plans, she caught on to his clear obvious hint. Y/n, in a playful yet earnest manner, narrowed her eyes at him and inquired, “why do you ask?”

“Because I want to hang out with you.” He answered right away. “We could do anything you want…” He looked at her with waiting eyes, “I just want to be with you.”

Y/n couldn’t resist the delight of being desired by someone, particularly someone as captivating as Rintarou. His charm and voice had her completely enchanted, and the more time she spent with him, the more spellbound she became. Is he completely unaware that his words to her evoked sensations in her heart that she had only fantasized about?

Being the one to break the intense staring going on between them, she could feel her face warming up. “I have tomorrow off as well,” she stated, locking eyes with him once more, this time with more confidence. “So, what should we do?”

Rintarou did not peg Y/n as one to enjoy horror films. His intentions after she allowed him to choose a film, a horror film, was to have her cuddle against him so he could wrap his arms protectively around her.

Instead, he sat beside her, pouting as Y/n’s full undivided attention was set on the film.

It was like she forgot he was there. Like she forgot she was supposed to cuddle beside him and let him make her feel safe.

After they finished their meals, Y/n was going to go back to her place to change and shower and return but Rin held on to the end of her shirt like a lost puppy

“Just use my bathroom…” he begged, staring at her with puppy begging eyes.

“What about clothes?”

You don’t need clothes, he wanted to say. “Just use my clothes…” After those words left his lips, he realized he may not survive if he saw her wearing his clothes.

Y/n sighed, she did not like clingy behaviors but she couldn’t bring herself to say no or deny him.

“Fine…”

His invisible puppy ears perked up and his tails wagged excitedly. “Want to shower together?”

“Don’t push your luck,” she laughed.

After her quick shower, she came out wearing a baggy shirt of his with his sweatpants.

Rin looked away and tried to distract his mind with other thoughts to prevent a boner from happening.

His fists had been clutching tightly to his sweatpants for almost the last hour, did she not realize what she was doing to him sitting next to him wearing his clothes?

He cleared his throat for the fourth time and slowly, her chin turned towards him but her eyes couldn’t leave the screen.

The plot of the film had finally reached the truth behind all the paranormal activities.

“Y/n,” Rin whispered.

Her chin was still tilted in his direction except her eyes. “Hmm?”

“Is this film that good?” He’d heard good reviews on this film, but all he could watch was her.

She hummed after a few seconds.

“Can we cuddle?”

At last, her eyes finally left the screen and looked at him. She scooted closer and curled against his side after fully comprehending his question. “Is that why you huffin’ and puffin’ over there?”

He hummed after a few seconds, a smile on his face, finally satisfied. He hooked an arm beneath her knees and threw her legs over his lap. “This is much better.”

Ten minutes into the film, she felt his head rest against the crook of her neck and shoulder. His warm breath was steadily fanning her neck and collarbone.

He had fallen asleep.

As soon as the film was over, Y/n reached for the remote without moving too much to wake him up.

“Is it finally over?”

“Yep,” she answered, “that was one hell of a plot twist that you missed out on.”

Rin’s arms tightened around her and he hummed against her neck, rubbing his nose against her pulse. “Tell me about it, please?”

Turning off the TV, Y/n saw their reflection on the TV screen. With their height difference, his neck was awkwardly angled so his head could rest on her shoulder.

“If you’re tired, go to bed.”

He shook his head, squeezing her waist. “I’m tired but I don’t want to go to bed.” When she lifted her hand and threaded her fingers through his hair, he nearly let out a moan when her nails began massaging his scalp.

His lips pressed against her pulse in a kiss before he nipped the skin there but was immediately stopped by Y/n who shifted away and gripped his chin, “don’t mark me.”

Rin didn’t mask his disappointment and muttered, “fine.”

Her lips curved as she squeezed his cheeks, making his lips pucker, “tell me,” her voice dropped an octave lower, “why are you hard?”

With his lips still puckered he responded, “blame it on your thighs.” He pulls away from her grip and squeezes her thigh which is pressed against his cock. Ever since he pulled her legs over his lap, he couldn’t get the thought of her riding him out of his head, which was why he had to force himself to sleep the rest of the film.

His little nap only worsened as he had enough time to dream about Y/n riding him.

“It’s so… squishy…” he squeezed harder, making her squirm in his lap. “And soft…” He leaned forward until their lips were closed, “and I want to bury my face between them…” He didn’t miss the hitch in her breath. “So what do you say, Y/n?”

“Less talking and more doing, Rin…”

In an instant, she’s flipped onto her back on the couch with Rin kneeling in between her legs. His fingers grip the waistband of his sweatpants on her and frowned, “no panties?” The smirk on her face answered his question. Tugging off his sweatpants, he confirmed his suspicion. “Can’t believe you sat on my lap practically with no panties.” Hooking both her legs over his shoulders, he grins happily at her before his face disappears in between her legs.

Y/n buckled against his lips, thighs crushing against his head. “Rin,” she choked out his name and moaned loudly when two fingers thrust knuckles deep. “Oh God…”

She looked down at the man, his eyes were already on her, staring straight at her as he feasted on her.

With his other free hand, he slipped it inside his shirt she was wearing and groaned when his palm touched her tit. She was wearing no bra beneath his shirt. His cock twitched, nearly cumming from being excited.

“Rin… Rin please…”

He suckled her clit before letting it go with a pop. “Please?”

Widening her legs, and freeing his head, she begged, “you… I want you.”

Rin lets out a shaky laugh and straightens himself. Hearing her say she wanted him nearly undoes him in ways he has never realized. He pushed his waistband down and frees his cock.

He tugs Y/n until she is flat on her back and her ass is hanging off the couch before hiking her legs over his shoulders. Rin pulls the end of his shirt to his lips and bites down on the material before guiding his cock to the wet and glossy pussy.

“Argh,” he lets out a low growl and pushes until he is fully inside her.

He starts with slow and steady thrusts, savoring how her pussy is tightly hugging his cock.

Y/n’s lewd soft moans hypnotize him making him want to slow down or else he may just cum embarrassingly fast.

“Rin – Rin,” she reaches to rub her clit but he slapped her hand away.

His shirt drops as he growled, “I’ll do it…” he spread her legs apart and became thrilled at the sight of his cock moving in and out of her pussy. His thumb found the swollen clit and he began circling it. He felt her clench tighter around his cock. “Are you going to cum?”

Y/n’s hands clutched her chest, she nodded, teeth biting down on her lower lip.

“I can’t hear you?”

“Yes!” She shouted.

He flashed her a satisfied lopsided grin before quickening his pace. Leaning forward he wrapped his other hand behind her head, bringing her lips to his.

They were both near their orgasm and with a few more thrusts they both whimpered in sync.

“Ah,” he groaned against her lips. A sheer thin of sweat is visible across his face. He opened his eyes, staring at her closed one. At some point her hands have gripped the collar of his shirt in a tight fist, keeping close to her.

Where he only wants to be.

Pressing his lips to hers, he kissed her deeply and passionately.

Y/n moaned, pulling a way to gasp for a breath. His face flushed making him adorable in her eyes…

“You…” he breathed, “you make me feel things… do things… I’ve never done it before.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her nose, “now, can we shower together?”

Rin hated waking up early on his days off.

But it all changed now with this woman still in his arms, in his bed, sleeping soundlessly.

After their shower, they both got ready for bed.

The moment she settled into his bed, Rin initiated his attack.

“What the - !” She exclaimed when he threw half his body on her, locking her with his limbs.

“I can’t trust you not disappearing in the morning,” he murmured, burying his face into her chest. “Don’t leave me like last time… wake me up because I want to see you go if you have to go…”

At some point through the night, they shifted, she was now laying over him.

His hand pressed against the back of her head protectively as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Morning…”

E/n: This man. I would never be able to say no to this man, ever.

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @krooes

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu suna #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #suna x you #suna x y/n #suna x reader #Happy birthday Suna Rintarou #suna rintarou x y/n #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader

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dawnoftime22 · 7 months

Text

nightly terrors.

| N.R

Warnings: nightmares, but no specific description about it.

Summary: When you have endless nightmares in the middle of the night, you end up seeking comfort from the sleeping redhead beside you.

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff

A/N: can you tell I have sleeping problems from the amount of sleeping fics I have? :')

| Started on 27/09/2023, 10:19 PM |

| Finished on 28/10/2023, 3:07 PM |

Masterlist

“Hold me. In these quiet nights, just hold me.”

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It was yet another night of endless nightmares. You had gotten one earlier already, but instead of waking Nat up, you had decided to wait it out, and eventually you went back to sleep.

It wasn't something to worry over much really, but then you had gotten yet another one, more so it was worse, and there's no way you're getting back to sleep now. Not anyone could've gone back to sleep after having such terrors like those.

You wondered why, because all you wanted was a good night's sleep, but it seemed impossible to get one without waking up with your heart beating fast and loudly.

You stare at Nat's sleeping figure, her back facing you while your breathing was scattered from the nightmare.

With hesitation, you shuffle a little closer to her after taking a deep breath to collect yourself slightly. You reach out your hand, gently shaking her shoulder.

"N-Nat...?" your voice was small, and it wavered as you called out her name, but with a last shake, she slowly woke up with a confused hum.

Her eyes started to slowly open, blinking away the sleepiness. When she saw the tears falling down your cheeks, and further more, heard your sniffling, her eyes opened quicker.

"...Oh, моя любов (my love), what happened?" her voice comes out groggily, but softly. Her hand instantly went up to cup your cheek, letting the tears soak her thumb instead, and her russian having come out so easily because of her tiredness.

"Nightmare." the one word quietly whispered from you was enough for her to understand. Having had her very own horrid flashbacks in the midst of nighttime, and you being there for her before. Just as she is for you now.

She puts her arms around your body, and pulls you closer, holding you gently. You go to hide in the crook of her neck, having felt it gave you even more of a sense of safety, but with her actually there beside you now, you already know nothing could come close to either of you. Her soft shushes were like a gentle melody.

"You're safe now, детка (baby)." She puts a kiss on the top of your head, whispering reassurances while she dragged her thumb back and forth, rubbing your back. Your heartbeat starts to slow down to a steady pulse while you held her like she was about to disappear.

Although her comforting did ease down your breathing, you were still shaking. Nat turns on the dim lamp next to her, so the room could be lit up. And, perhaps, hoping that it'll make the monsters in your head fear away from the light, too.

When Nat looked to turn the light switch on, she also took a chance to glance at the clock. Four am. The sun itself hasn't even gotten up either. Her heart ached at seeing you wake up with almost as much fear as she does, but she takes her moment to think about every little thing you did to take care of her countless times before.

You were missing the comfort of her touch, she knew. So, in replacement of her hand that was once on your back off to grab some things, she places her other hand.

She takes ahold of the tv remote, remembering to instantly reduce the volume so any loud noise coming from it wouldn't suddenly leave you shaking worse from shock.

Her hand kept it's comforting touches on you, with her whispering sweet little reassurances every now and then as she loaded up your favorite film. One of the few remedies the two of you had when the other had nightmares.

She sets the tv remote down and takes your shaking hand into her steady one, leaving a kiss on the soft skin of your knuckles that were white from your grip of a fist from before. Your head turns to hide into her shoulder, her little gestures of love luring you out from the terror. The grip you held loosens when love wins over fear.

As the familiar sounds of your favorite film playing in the background fills your ears, the shaking in your bones start to settle down.

You turn around, moving to lay your head on her chest while she keeps her embrace on you gently, keeping you safe from anything and everything.

The screen wasn't blinding, thankfully, Nat had already adjusted the brightness. The scenes played on the tv, and though the redhead was as tired as you were, her eyes were focused on both you and the film, hoping the story was distracting enough for her to keep herself awake.

All the while Natasha was trying to keep her eyes open, yours, on the other hand, was starting to falter already.

As the film progressed, slowly, Natasha starts to notice just how quiet you've been, and how soft your breathing is now. Once she's fully taken notice by leaning over slightly to look at you, she sees your eyes closed peacefully in slumber. She hopes you don't wake up with another nightmare. All the redhead wanted to do was go in your head and rid it of any scary situations, and instead fill it with content and happy moments.

If only she was Wanda. But that didn't matter. All she has to do and is doing is her best to take care of you, and it's working out perfectly. She was sure to plan something for tomorrow though, just to make you forget even just a little, of whatever had left you shaking so badly in the middle of your sleep.

She gently pushes a strand of hair off your face, careful not to tickle your skin and wake you up, and then retreated back to her comfortable position. She turns off the tv and the lamp, wanting to drift back off to sleep as you had.

With the moon still glowing high in the sky, and with her arms around you keeping you safe, the both of you know the only morning that'll greet you later will be a peaceful one.

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

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sillyblues · 11 months

Text

‘pecador.’

synopsis— you bring the sinner out of miguel o’hara

cw— religious themes, blood, mild nsfw, 18+

“En el nombre del Padre,”

Miguel O’Hara was a sinner. Violence has always resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins. It was evidently clear to him and everyone, even back then when he was younger. He could barely remember his first memories of joy with his mother nor a play with his brother, but he could remember vividly when he threw a punch at somebody who told him that he and his mother and brother were dirty.

And ever since then, he has not learned of a moment filled with peace. His father berated him and punched him as well because how dare he hurt the son of his boss. Because of it, his father had been fired, and they had no money anymore. But Miguel didn’t care. How could he when that little shit insulted his mother in front of him? He let his father vent his anger and frustrations on him.

“Y del Hijo,”

But a mother’s love was great, and his own mother couldn’t bear to see her son getting hurt, so she tried to stop him. She took her in his arms and protected him from his father. But she shouldn’t have done that. He wished his mother stayed put in place and come to him when his father was done with him. But she didn’t because her love for him was great.

His father grew furious at the sight of his wife hiding his son away from him and in wrath, he hurt Miguel’s mother as well. The slaps and the punches and the hair pulls were thrown at his mother and he knew it was painful. He tried to pull away from her as his eyes were wide and tears streamed down. He begged his father to stop and asked him to forgive him, he sobbed as he said to him to hurt him instead, just not his mom. But despite it all, his father turned a deaf ear to his pleads and his mother’s embrace was tight just so he would not get hurt.

“Y del Espíritu Santo,”

His father’s anger was a large fire that evaporated away his family’s water of tears but Miguel’s resentment was a burning fiery hell only reserved for his father. His rage was molten and flowed through like lava and it pulsed within his heart and consumed his rationality. His fury blinded him and he didn’t know what he had done until he regained his vision momentarily back to see his mother crying.

“Miguel, escúchame,” his mother whispered to him with a tremble as she took the bloodied knife that he didn’t know he was holding from his arms. He looked at his hands soaked in red and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“My baby boy, thank you for protecting Mama,” she hugged him and rocked him back and forth as she sobbed. Like instinct, he hugged her back weakly. “I love you so much, I want you to know that.”

“Be strong for me and for your little brother, okay? He has no one but you. Take care of him and yourself, alright?” her soft voice was full of sadness and he desperately wanted to look up to her and comfort her. He wanted to tell her that he also loved her very much and he will but like a lullaby, her voice sent a wave of sleepiness and his vision darkened.

But he couldn’t help it and then, he fainted. When he woke up in a hospital room with his little brother, Gabriel, snuggled beside him, nurses and the police greeted him. There, he knew his mother killed herself.

“Amen.”

He took his mother’s words to his heart and swore that he would protect his brother. He did not let anyone take him or his brother or relied on adults because he trusted nobody. He appealed to the court at 16 years old that he could take care of himself and his brother. Fortunately, he was approved and he took multiple jobs to sustain their needs. He didn’t go to school, no, he didn’t have any time but he made sure that Gabriel did. He worked tirelessly sleeping barely 5 hours a day just to bring food to the table and have a roof over their heads. But despite his busy schedule, he made sure to be there on Gabriel's important days.

Years went by and they had formed a mundane lifestyle. And he tried so hard to keep it that way. But violence resided in his soul and the sinner in him was rekindled once more when his brother was found dead one early morning. He received a call when he was about to go to work and rushed to the crime scene when he heard the news. When he saw Gabriel’s lifeless body and the blood that pooled around him, the remaining hope in his heart was crushed and rage once more visited him and burned fiercely. The police ruled it as suicide as he was found in an alleyway in between buildings. But Miguel knew that it wasn't because of his brother who was so happy and talked his ear off about graduating and becoming a billionaire so he could support him and would never give up on life like that.

“Padre nuestro,”

Miguel decided to join the underworld where mafias and gangs ran about. He took jobs there not only for quick cash but to form connections and information. He investigated more about his brother's death and found out that he was bullied for a long time by a group of kids his age. Apparently, they picked on him because he was sorry for being dirty and a son of a filthy murderer. There was evidence on the autopsy that was not reported that he was burned, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. A camera evidence that was also not submitted and was deleted (but luckily saved by the corrupt authorities who tried to keep it as a blackmail opportunity) showed that they pushed Gabriel to his death and they all laughed about it. Not only that but he wasn't their only victim.

Miguel felt so angry at himself and guilty that he didn't know that behind his brother's insistence on being covered up from head to toe, lies numerous wounds. Knowing him, he probably didn't tell him so he wouldn't worry about him. He wished he did. He wished Gabriel was a little more selfish and made him worry about him instead because he would protect him better.

With this, he took his time to learn more about the arrogant pricks that murdered his brother. He moved to a different city, to Nueva York, so that he had an alibi. He stalked the conceited brats who did the same to numerous people and their rich parents who didn’t give a shit whether their children murdered someone. He learned their routine. Their schedule. And when the time was right, he put a bullet through their heads one by one when they least expected it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come on man, I’m sorry,” they begged with tears and snot dripping, crawling backwards under his shadow. “Don’t kill me, please, I’ll give you anything.”

“Money? Do you want money? I’ll give you hundreds and thousands,” they always said the same thing, thinking that money was enough for him to forgive the suffering they had caused to his remaining family that they took away, the bruises and cuts on his brother’s body, the damage they had done on him mentally. “No? Half a billion? No, no! One billion!”

His jaw clenched. Pathetic pigs. He cocked and aimed it at them.

“No, no, no! NO—!” they stuttered and screamed but were cut off by the sound of a bullet fired by a gun with a muffler.

He wondered if they at least felt some remorse or at the very least thought about how Gabriel or the other kids they tortured and killed felt as they begged them to not hurt them. But he knew people like them, he had seen them countless times including his very own father. People like them didn’t care about anything or anyone other than themselves. These kids were just the same as them.

He made sure to clean up his tracks, deleted potential shreds of evidence, and made some story that would make their case solved and closed easily. He left the city swiftly and came back to his new home. With this, he tried to leave his old past behind and began his life anew.

“Que estás en el cielo.”

Miguel hated himself. He hated the fact that he killed his father which resulted in the death of his mother so that nobody will know that he killed him. He hated the fact that he was so ignorant of his brother's suffering that he had to be pushed to his death for him to realize that his brother was in pain. He hated the monster he turned out to be, always out for blood and killing people like it was nothing.

The sea of guilt and remorse suffocated him and he drowned himself in alcohol and women. The money he saved up which was supposed to be for Gabriel’s graduation gift was used on his vices.

Day and night, his sins weighed heavy on his mind and not once, was he given at least a moment of peace.

“Santificado sea tu nombre.”

A knock snapped Miguel out of a trance as he smoked out of the window of his apartment. The wispy grey stench wafted in the air as he raised an eyebrow, wondering without much interest who could be knocking on his door. It couldn’t be the landlord as he just paid his month’s due. His past flings? Probably.

Knock. Knock.

He took another drag and inhaled as much as he could before he exhaled and extinguished it on the ashtray full of ashes and butts of leftover cigarettes.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

He opened the door and found nobody, but a baby in a basket with a letter sticking out of the blankets wrapped around it. The sight of the baby filled him with anxiety and dread. He looked sideways, hoping to at least find who put the baby on his door but only the sight of closed doors greeted him. He had an inch of what was happening and he did not like it one bit.

With a shaky sigh, he took the baby and cradled it in his arms. God, he didn’t even know its gender. But the sight of him made the baby giggle and coo at him and he bit his lip. Fuck. He opened the letter with his other hand and the words written on it confirmed his suspicions.

“It’s your baby, Miguel. You were the last one I hooked up with before I found out I was pregnant and even then, it was too late. She was too grown and I cannot abort her anymore. I don’t have any papers of her because I have no money and I can’t raise her.”

Miguel could feel a migraine forming and he rubbed his forehead. The baby must have found his distress amusing because it giggled once more and tried to grab his fingers.

No. She. Not it.

Fuck.

Miguel wasn’t ready to be a dad, he doesn’t even think he was suited to be one because he was a piece of shit but he took another look at her that was so snug and comfortable in his arms as she looked at him with wonder, he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to try to take care after her.

“Venga tu reino.”

A few years passed by and Miguel accepted his role as a father. He named the baby Gabriella after his late brother. He got into therapy and went back to work so he could raise her with no financial problems and so that he wouldn’t be a bad father to her. Gabriella was a handful child. He slept countless sleepless nights, often waking up early in the morning because she was crying. Sometimes it was because she was hungry, sometimes she just needed help to digest the milk, and sometimes there wasn’t any particular reason for her cries. But still, he cradled her in his embrace and sang lullabies to her softly.

It felt like it was just yesterday Miguel opened the door and found her on his doorstep. Gabriella has grown into a bright young child. She took after his looks as she inherited almost all of her genes from him.

Oh, she was so lovely. She was the best of him, better than him and Miguel liked that because she deserved better. She made him believe that he wasn’t the worst piece of trash and that he wasn’t useless. She made him feel loved and he made sure she felt loved as well.

She was very much into soccer and he was so proud of her. He attended all of her games without a miss, winner or not. He was there with her by her side, teaching her how to be kind enough to not hurt anybody and allow herself to be hurt. He taught her to be emotional yet to also remain logical. He taught her to tell him anything yet also let her remain her own privacy.

Miguel loved her very much and she loved him very much as well.

“Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.”

But he was a sinner and there will be time that his sins would catch up to him. He understood this one day when he got home one afternoon as he got home after work and was greeted by his child, his precious baby, his Gabriella’s lifeless body in her blood.

The tears came fast and thick. He immediately cradled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth. He begged her to wake up, to open her eyes for Papa. To surprise him that this was just a prank. Or a dream. Anything.

Please, wake up. You can’t die yet. I haven’t lived the rest of my life with you yet. I haven’t seen you on your quinceañera yet or your graduation or the first time you get a job. I haven’t seen you get married or surprise me with grandchildren.

I haven’t seen you live your life yet.

Please. Don’t do this to me.

“Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día.”

Violence has always resided in his soul and with his daughter’s death, he committed his one last vengeance. He visited his old life once more. He got back with his connections and his trusted friends gave him whatever he needed in exchange for nothing and as their condolences.

The killers of his daughter were related to his previous crimes. They were related to the families of the people he killed and they decided to kill his daughter as their revenge.

And in return, hunted them all down. He hunted all families down and despite all the scars, all the sharp cuts, all the black and blue bruises, and all the bullets that pierced him, he never gave up and killed them all. Multiple mafia familias were down and he made sure that they couldn’t even think of getting revenge and that all they could do was bow before him.

“Hahaha, you son a bitch,” one cackled as he spat on him, “you deserve it all.”

“You heartless bitch, you’re the reason why all your family’s dead. Fucking cunt, you think you can revive them? Dream on.” he babbled his useless mouth on and wheezed.

“I know.” How could Miguel not know? For not one second that had gone by, he could never ever forget how he killed his family.

“Your death will not bring my family alive but it will make sure that any other families won’t be killed.” And with that, he pulled the trigger and let the loud sound of the gun resonate through the room. His head spat out red and some solids of his brain decorated the wall behind him. His blood dripped down and it joined the pool of the blood of the other corpses that lay dead in the room. The rays of the rising sun shone through the window and it gleamed on the pool of red. Silence filled the room and only the sound of his breaths remained.

Miguel’s eyes gave up suddenly and he fell to the ground on his knees with a harsh thud. With a tear, his shoulders loosened.

Finally. It’s over. Everything’s over.

Miguel should be glad that all of his enemies were gone and nobody would even dare to hurt him anymore but what does it all matter when everyone he held dear was gone?

“Perdona nuestras ofensas,”

Due to the rules of the underworld, the top dogs with Miguel O’Hara leading, their identities would be hidden and they would not be allowed to surrender themselves to the government as it could overthrow the black society altogether. Partly because of this, he turned to God and moved to a quaint town. He became a priest with the sole purpose of repentance and earning forgiveness for his sins. He didn't know if he was asking God to forgive him or his family who died because of him to forgive his carelessness in protecting them.

It was ironic really because he never really believed in God despite the nightly mass he, his brother, and his mother used to have. The words he uttered were redundant, merely sounds he couldn't understand nor tried to. When his mother died, he and Gabriel did the nightly mass in honour of their late mother. And when he died, he could only attend Sunday mass in the church with Gabriella because of the ache of missing his mother and brother yet still continue the tradition of being faithful to God. He wanted her to grow up good and kind so he taught her the values and morals of being a Catholic despite not fully believing in God.

A hypocrite, that's what he was and usually thought about as he led the mass during his schedule.

And he still was when a quiet mysterious woman moved into town.

You.

“Como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.”

You appeared so suddenly out of nowhere in this town. He lived in the Church but in such a small town, words tend to spread easily. In just two days of your arrival, he already heard of a young woman who had just moved in.

Miguel was a bit wary as this town barely had any people. Most residents were grandparents or older parents who were already retired and their children who left to move to the cities for bigger opportunities and education. He didn't know what you were thinking about coming here. Were you sent here by the underworld? No, it can't be. He was protected by his friends who ruled the underworld now. Did you have a past like him? Were you running away from something? He sighed as he shook his head. Then again, it was none of his business and it was most definitely not his right to pry.

The next Sunday was the first time he saw you. You sat there at the back, ushered by your neighbours, he presumed. In rows of people, you stood out so brightly. Your back was straight, there was elegance so blatant despite the plain clothes you wore. He met your gaze one too many times and noticed the way you hung onto every word he uttered.

And when the mass had ended he stayed around longer this time and talked with the locals a bit more. And without a doubt, your new friend introduced him to you.

“Oh good morning, Father O’Hara! Wonderful mass, by the way, I loved the homily, well, as usual, it really reflected my situation now with my son in college. Do you still remember?” Mrs. Lorraine greeted him with a handshake.

“Oh for God’s sake, Lorraine, yes Father still remembers that and I’m sure he appreciated that you love it. Don’t forget you’re here to introduce [Name] to him.” Mrs. Eleanor said, cutting Miguel off before he could even reply.

“Oh! Dear me, why yes,” with widened eyes, she laughed, “Yes, forgive me.”

“Father, this is [Name]. They just moved in here and I invited them to join the church.” she moved her body to show your figure and Miguel finally had a close look upon you. Your eyes stared at him and for a second, he felt like there were just the two of you. You looked at him with wonder and curiosity and Dios mío, you looked so innocent and he was reminded of the darkness that exists from within him. He felt like one touch and he could corrupt you easily. He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow, desperately hiding any tremor in his composure.

“[Name], this is Father Miguel O’Hara. He moved into this town a little while ago and clearly, one of our only priests.”

“Oh, good morning, Father Miguel.” Christ, your voice was soft as a wind that tickled his heart. You held out your hand to him. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Good morning.” He nodded stiffly. He took your hand and shook it.

Even your palm was smooth and he forced the thought down to hold your hand longer.

“No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal.”

You were kind. Endlessly so. You sponsored this town’s community event alongside donations to the church anonymously but everybody knew it was you. Everyone just decided to keep their silence to respect your decision in keeping your identity.

You preferred to listen to others and learn more about them rather than talk about yourself. You always asked how everyone was doing and gave them gifts under the excuse of it being old despite it polished brand new. Whenever children or the grandchildren of the locals visited, you always stopped by their house and gave them little gifts as well.

Miguel had seen you interact with children multiple times whenever he was doing groceries and pass by at yours, he saw you giggling along with the children. He saw you reading books to them under the shade of a tree and rays of sunlight would gently decorate your faces and the winds would play with your hair. He saw you happy and the children happy with you as well.

And his heart throbbed at the sight of you each time but he swallowed the feelings forcibly down as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Amén.”

He hated you.

He hated the way you invoke feelings in him. He hated the way you tempt him unknowingly and he cannot blame you to take any responsibility for the way you make him feel. He hated the way you make him want to sin again, to unleash the beast inside him he had caged for so long but for another different reasons entirely which was you.

He was a priest, someone who he tried so hard not to sin but you make him falter in his beliefs so effortlessly.

So he hid himself who had become a sinner once more just at the thoughts of you.

“En el nombre del Padre,”

But he was so weak for you.

After a mass one sunday morning, you asked him if you could have a talk with him just the two of you and somewhere private. Miguel knew he should have said no. He should have turned you away and pretend he has not been watching you from afar and from the corner of his eye. But he was weak for you and before he knew it, he let you in on his office room.

“Father Miguel, why are you ignoring me?” you asked so suddenly and he knew it was coming. He has turned away from you, pretending he doesn’t see you coming and would walk the other way. But he was still caught off guard. You leaned closer to him he could smell your delicious scent. He leaned away because his patience with you was just so little he might lose his hard-earned control.

“Pardon me, but you’re getting too close.” He said with gritted teeth and tight fists. You looked hurt at that. With widened eyes that were soon filled with dejection, you slowly rubbed your arm. Guilt flooded his being and as much as he wanted to apologize, he couldn’t. Any second with you drove him insane and he could only take so much of this. He didn’t want to lose his reason, his morals, his values as a Priest. He couldn’t bear to. But any more second with you, he just might lose it all for you. You bit your lip.

“Why do you hate me so much?” you whispered with small tears welling up your eyes and Miguel hated himself more. There was nothing more he wanted to do at the moment than to hold you and wipe your tears away himself. But he can’t. It’s wrong. Priests don’t get close like that to their fellow believers.

“I don’t hate you—” he sighed as he looked away but you cut him off.

“Then why do you look away from me? Am I so undeserving for you to not look me in the eye? Am I so disgusting for you to get close to me? Am I so inadequate and worthless for you to treat me like you treat others?” you said harshly at him while tears slipped your eyes. You took a step at him with every word you said and he took a step back in every step you took until his back was pushed to the wall behind him. “So do not tell me that you don’t hate me when all you did made me feel like you despised my entire being.”

For fuck’s sake.

He grabbed your arm and turned your body, switching positions with his. He made sure to cover the back of your head so it wouldn’t hit the wall too hard and he growled under his breath.

“I do not hate you.” he said with gritted teeth. “I want you.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“What?” you confusingly and breathlessly asked.

“Every time I see you, there is nothing more than I want than to be with you. I look at your pretty face and I want to kiss you so bad. I look at your nice figure and I want to hold and caress you. I want you.” he panted silently, the words he never dared to even utter to himself outloud was finally out of his chest. And now that they were free, he looked at your eyes to see how would you react. Would you push him away and slap his face? Would you be disgusted with him you’d never want to see him anymore?

He would understand but he didn’t know if he could bear with your hatred.

“Then take me.” your hand encircled his neck and the other gently stroked his cheek.

No.

“I’m right here.”

I can’t.

“Show me you don’t truly hate me.”

It’s wrong.

“Show me how much you want me.”

In an instant, he captured his lips with yours as his hand slid to the back of your neck. At the touch of your lips, the hidden lust for you blossomed. He pressed his face to yours and yours closer to his deeper, his kiss burning so passionately and fiercely. You opened your mouth with a moan and he invited his tongue in, and he nearly groaned at your fragrance hynotizing him and your sweet taste that ignited a new kind of hunger for him. His tongue swriled with yours and together, they danced a dance that left him breathless.

He pulled away slightly and a web of both of your saliva disappeared. He stared at you as you panted. You looked at him pleadingly and your stare sent a rush of blood down in his pants. He wanted more and he knew you wanted the same.

And with that, he plunged to the roaring sea and its waging waves of lust.

“Y del Hijo,”

For you, he threw his title as a Priest and became just Miguel.

All for you, he returned to his origins and became a sinner once more.

“Y del Espíritu Santo,”

Each day and night, you invited him into your temple and he worshipped you. What once was just thoughts that tortured him became reality that gave him a glimpse of heaven. Your aroma engulfed him and filled his never-ending greed of you and your flavor satiated his endless glutton for you.

“Amen.”

As he finished his prayer, he stood up from kneeling and bowed to the Cross of the Lord. He fixed his clothes and the sounds of his footsteps against the tiles of the Church rang as he left with thoughts of you.

He wanted to hear your melody that was akin to the trumpets of the angels again. He wanted your soft and supple skin to be against his dark and rough ones. He wanted to be pressed under you with your legs on the either side of his head and your juices spill in his mouth. He wanted your warm cavern envoloped around him and to feel you come undone by him.

With a silent chuckle, he thought about how he tried so hard to not corrupt you by with his wicked thoughts only to be corrupted by you instead.

For Miguel O’Hara was a sinner and no matter how much he tried to change that, he will always be one. Violence has resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins but time changed him and has now become lust that occupied his being along with the infinite greed and glutton that only wanted you.

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐#spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x gn!reader #cw religious imagery

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blessedwithabadomen · 3 months

Text

in love with the mess - day four

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff, flirting, the slightest hint of angst if you squint, some smut (nipple play, masturbation)

length : 5k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3

a/n : it's getting more smutty, my friends!! enjoy the chapter 💗

•••

day four

I woke up in the middle of the night, sleepy and confused as to why I was conscious at all. It took me a moment to blink into the darkness and realise that a figure was standing next to the bed, instead of lying next to me in it. Noah was peacefully sleeping still, turned away from me now, his back touching mine, but Oli was moving about. I reached out for him, making him jump a little when I touched his leg as he was stood next to the bed.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, careful not to wake Noah as well. Oli hesitated, then sat back down on the bed, leaning down to me so I could hear him.

“I was gonna go back to my room.”

“Why?”

I couldn’t see his eyes in the dark. I couldn’t read his face or make out his expression and it left me at a disadvantage.

“Didn’t wanna…”

He never finished the sentence. I allowed myself to softly stroke along his temple, cupping his cheek, enticing him to come back. It worked, without any words, although I still sensed some hesitation as he laid back down, my touch never leaving him.

“What’s up with you?” I asked, knowing fully well his mind was so loud that he probably wouldn’t be able to find the words right then and there. “All good flirting with me and teasing me all day, but scared of a little intimacy?”

I didn’t want to call him out, but we both knew I wasn’t entirely wrong.

“‘M not scared of anything,” he mumbled, stubborn and pouting. But he allowed me to envelop him in another hug, before I pushed at his shoulder so he would turn away from me. I knew he didn’t like being vulnerable. But sometimes he, too, needed to be the little spoon.

•••

What was meant to be a morning of sleeping in was cruelly interrupted by incessant banging on my door. As it turned out, while me and Bring Me did indeed have a late start, Noah was wanted much earlier but had successfully put his phone on silent last night after texting Nick he was having a movie night with us. At least it meant that they knew which room to disturb when they realised he hadn't returned to bed that morning.

Noah was already halfway up by the time I'd opened the door to Nick, but Oli only lifted his head for a moment, decided none of it was his problem and continued snoozing. I made quick work of ushering a sleepy, absolutely adorable looking Noah out the door. He paused, though, in the middle of the door frame, turning back to me. For a moment, we simply stared at each other, my heart going double time just from being subjected to the way he was studying every inch of my face and I was wondering, no, hoping he would kiss me, but the moment passed and Nick was shouting for him and he was down the hall before I fully realised.

Stumbling back into bed, I immediately moved under the covers, more than willing to make the best out of our late start and get some more rest. Oli, lying on his back, pulled me onto him, using me as his personal blanket, and I didn’t resist. It seemed like his securities shone a little less brightly in the approaching daylight. I melted into him, his warmth, the comfort he was providing.

“Are you happy?”

The question, uttered so softly I barely had it, caught me completely off guard. I tired lifting my head to look at Oli, but the position made it almost impossible and the way his arms held me didn’t help.

“That’s a bit of a loaded question,” I mumbled, not quite sure yet how to answer.

“Are you happy on this tour?” he rectified. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just dragging you places, again and again, like taking you on this tour and putting you in situations-”

I sat up so abruptly that Oli had no chance to keep me down anymore. But the last thing I wanted was him overthinking like this, the way I knew he could sometimes until it took him straight into the abyss, and I needed to look at him to make sure he would believe me.

“Oliver Scott Sykes, I’m very happy on this tour. I’m very happy whenever you drag me places and put me in situations. Last year was fucking bullshit and you know that but now it’s only January and I’m here, with you, being on tour like you know I love. I’m still finding myself and I don’t know where I’m going in life, but believe me. I’m happy.”

Oli sat up, his arms once again wound around my middle, keeping me in his lap, and this time I was sure he was going to kiss me, this was it, this was the moment, this was what I’d been dreaming of and thinking about for longer than I’d ever admit to him, I’d finally get him to myself, I’d finally know what his lips felt like on mine. He pushed my hair behind my ear, looking into my eyes so deeply I felt more naked than I ever could by being undressed. My breath hitched as his was hitting my face, he was so close.

My phone rang.

Oli let out the most miserable groan I’d ever heard as he let go of me, letting himself fall onto the mattress again. I couldn’t blame him. I very much felt like screaming at whoever was at the other end of that phone call. Unfortunately, it turned out to be Lia, which ruled out homicide.

“To what the fuck do I owe the pleasure?”

“Did I catch you at a bad time? Where are you?”

“Sitting on Oli,” I said before my brain could catch up with my mouth. Oli started shaking with laughter underneath me as Lia shrieked.

“And you’re answering the phone! What is wrong with you, girl!”

“Not like that,” I sighed, knowing fully well that I wasn’t going to convince her right now. “But let’s talk about why you called in the first place.”

“Right! The Manchester gig is tomorrow, isn’t it? Well, you could already guess I was going to take you out afterwards because there’s no way you’re passing through my city and not having shots with me, but also I just got confirmation that I can clock out early tomorrow so you better get me that backstage pass so we can hang.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear a little, looking down at Oli who still looked so, so delectable under me. “Backstage pass for Lia?”

“Always,” he immediately agreed. They’d known each other for years now, thanks to me, and he knew how important she was to me. Getting her a pass was probably one of the easier feats.

“Sorted,” I confirmed.

“Hell yes! Hide yo’ boys, I’m coming tomorrow!”

“Lia, you’re a married lesbain.”

“I’m not saying hide them because I’m gonna hit on them. I’m saying hide them because I will bother them with questions as to why neither has fucked you yet. Assuming you’d tell me if one of them had. Because you better. Anyway, took a double shift to get off early tomorrow so I gotta head back to work, love you, go back to pouncing Oli!”

I echoed her sentiment - the one about love, not the one about Oli -, before hanging up and chucking the phone back on the nightstand. I would have loved to stay like this a little longer. Having Oli underneath me truly was a sight to behold. But I’d seen the time and I knew we should be getting ready sooner rather than later.

“Alright loverboy, time for the day to start,” I said. Then, unable to keep myself from saying it out loud, I added, “We’ll revisit this another time.”

When I moved away to climb off him, I made sure to drag myself over his crotch with just enough pressure to underline the sentiment.

•••

Oli, for once, had assured me that he wouldn't actually need me to run for anything for a while so I did my next favourite thing apart from waiting hand and foot on him and walked out on the floor of the arena to watch Bring Me soundcheck. There was something magical about getting to see hints of the show before it actually happened. The technical side of it never failed to amaze me - figuring out how the band would sound their absolute best, tweaking every little detail for the optimal experience wherever the audience would hear it from, fixing all the little errors in communication with the artists, until it came together to an awe-inspiring show of the highest class.

Plus, there was something quite adorable about watching the band play without all their usual stage antics, wrapped in comfortable hoodies, a beanie with little pompoms on Oli's head.

Walking around the floor, it obviously didn't take long to get spotted as Becky, one of the sound techs, waved me over.

“Looking good, I dig the crop top!”

Looking down at myself, I double checked the outfit I had chosen for the day. It was one of the many options Oli had provided me with, a soft lacey top that showed a little of my midriff, a few buttons along the middle of it, paired with some dark trousers that had been adorned with a number of studs. I had also finally unpacked my make-up bag. The winged eyeliner wasn’t a major success but I figured no one would notice in the low light and I’d taken a plunge trying on a dark red lipstick I’d been carrying around with me for months but never used. Noah had given me a low whistle as I walked past earlier which had eased my nerves about it all potentially being too much.

“Thought I’d take some inspiration from you,” I grinned, motioning at her own outfit which was, once again, absolutely fabulous.

She waved me closer still until I could lean over the barrier and see what she was doing. “Want to see what makes the show really, really good?”

I nodded, eager to find out more after she’d bombarded me with a phletora of information last time. It turned out, listening to her explain her craft while the venue was blissfully empty and quiet apart from a few shouts here and there and the band arguing about something on stage was much easier and more enjoyable. By the end of her little presentation, I was pretty sure I was loving this just as much as she did.

“So what about you, you work on this tour too, right? With Oli?”

“Official title is personal assistant, but I think mainly he just likes to see me running around for his amusement.”

“Is that something you enjoy?” Becky looked a little thoughtful.

“I mean, I love being on tour. It’s one of my favourite things in the world. I get so restless when I’m just at home for too long. But… it’s barely sustainable at the moment.” I couldn’t tell why I was being so honest. There was simply something in her face that made you want to confide in her, tell her all about yourself, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, overall, or not, but I didn’t stop myself. In all honestly, it felt good to say it out loud. “I’ve been doing odd jobs on tour for the past… ten years now. Little unqualified jobs in between when I can’t get away. But it’s not really going anywhere.”

“What kind of jobs do you do on tour?” The fact that she posed follow-up questions simply had me word-vomiting a little more.

“Assisting, mainly. I’ve done some merch in the past, too. Worked as a stagehand sometimes. But, you know, nothing qualified. Nothing that pays all that well. I thought I’d move up from assisting tour manager to the actual tour manager at some point, but it’s not really happening. There’s always someone else first, someone with more experience or a degree or a better friend to someone in charge. So yeah, approaching the big 30 with no plan!”

There was a moment of silence between us.

“Oh god, sorry, I’ve just dumped all of this on you and we barely know each other.”

But Becky’s smile reassured me immediately. “I don’t mind at all. I’ve been in your situation, when I was younger. Took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it. But if you-”

Our conversation was abruptly cut short by another sound tech who desperately needed her help with one thing or other. I turned back toward the stage, watching the guys do what they loved, following their passion, honing their talents, and I wondered if I’d find that place for myself, too.

Then Oli waved, enthusiastically, and grabbed his crotch in the most irritating way and I laughed so hard I briefly forgot about my worries.

•••

“You know when you’re on the verge of getting ill and it’s basically a single night’s sleep that decides whether you wake up completely fine or with the plague?”

Turning toward the voice that was obviously talking to me, I found Matt, Bad Omen’s tour manager (as far as I was aware?), looking over at the band as they got ready for the show in a few minutes with a worrisome expression on his face. I immediately knew he was talking about Noah. He did seem a little worse for wear today. Was it still the jet lag? Had he caught some sort of virus? There was no way to know for sure but, like Matt said, it seemed like he was on the edge of getting better or something worse.

“He definitely needs some rest. Do you have an early bus call tomorrow?”

“It’s not too bad. It’s only a two-hour drive to Manchester.”

Both of us looked at the singer, lost in our own thoughts.

“Maybe he shouldn’t do Antivist tonight. Get an early night.”

Matt laughed a slightly hollow laugh. “If you manage to convince him, I owe you.”

I was surely going to try, I decided.

Matt disappeared right around the time Bad Omens took the stage, but I stuck around. I’d seen their set the first night, from the sound desk, but watching it from the side of the stage was entirely different. Something about being completely hidden from the view of the audience while being so close to the band itself, able to see all their little quirks and facial expressions was simply something I couldn't miss while on tour.

The band was about to transition from Artificial Suicide into Like a Villain, when I felt an arm being slung over my shoulders. I didn’t even need to fully turn to Oli to see he was in a great mood. Being with Oli could be a mixed bag, his mood unpredictable at times, darkness always looming around the corner even when he was in a good place and working hard to stay there. So when he was as ecstatic about nothing in particular, I accepted it without question.

“They’re so fucking good,” he remarked almost jumping in place with excitement at watching Bad Omens play, silently mumbling the lyrics along with Noah. “So fucking glad we took them on tour.”

“Me too,” I said. For a number of reasons. But them being an absolutely mind-blowing opener was easily one of them.

Oli moved along to the music, awkwardly pulling me with him without any particular plan to it. It shouldn’t have been surprised when his hand, arm still resting on my shoulders, accidentally brushed against my boob.

I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath my top.

He immediately halted his movements, acutely aware of what had just happened and, holding his hand slightly away from my body, just to make sure.

“Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay.”

He looked at me for the length of a heartbeat.

“Is that an ‘it’s okay’ as in you forgive me or as in ‘I don’t mind’?”

We both knew what I was going to say before I did.

“I don’t mind.”

When given explicit permission, Oli wasn’t shy. Turning back toward the stage, he seemed every bit the innocent onlooker, simply preoccupied with the live music currently being played, but his hands gave him away. Manoeuvring me to stand at a slightly different angle, he seemed to make sure that neither the audience nor anyone walking past backstage would see, before moving his hand back to where it had been before, only with a clearer intent this time around.

His hand deftly grabbed onto my boob, making me gasp quietly at the surprise, cupping the flesh, feeling along the edges.

“No bra?” he whispered in my ear, which alone would have been enough to make the hairs on my whole body stand up. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, the feeling of his hand on me in such an intimate place with barely any fabric in between much too intense.

Changing his approach with the information that was now available to him, Oli let his fingers trail over me, softly, but finding my hardening nipple easily. He chuckled, amused, as he started flicking it, then rubbing against it softly. I was fighting a loosing battle trying to keep quiet. The fire in my belly was igniting, my back was arching ever so slightly, pushing myself into his grasp a little more. He replied by subjecting me to even more excruciating treatment. When he pinched my nipple between his fingers, my knees actually buckled. I couldn’t hold back the moan, either.

“Sensitive, doll? Very interesting.”

Just like that, he had removed his arm, stepping away from me and leaving me craving his touch. I wanted to be angry, stern at him for putting me in such a position in such a public place but I was sure that when I looked at him, all he could see was lust and silent begging for more.

“Well, this was nice,” he concluded, smiling at me as if nothing at all had just happened, “but I gotta get ready for the show.”

I was left dumbstruck, almost unable to believe he would play me like that, but as I watched him walk away I decided this game was not over.

•••

Convincing Noah to sit out on Antivist for one night and getting him back to the hotel early so he could rest was surprisingly easy. He had successfully given his all to their set, pulling through without letting anyone see how much he was struggling, but the second he stepped off stage, all energy seemed to drop off him, leaving him tired and exhausted. I made short work of getting him out of the arena and into a cab back to the hotel. The rest of the band was staying, they had decided, opting to watch Bring Me and giving Noah some space and quiet.

I allowed him to rest his head on my shoulder in the backseat, softly playing with his hair, watching how he almost fell asleep right then and there. I felt bad for shaking him out of his falling-asleep phase, but I wasn’t going to get him up into his room on my own. Somehow, with my arm around his waist as if it could be any help, we made it through the lobby, up the lift and into the room. He was halfway to the bed, quite obviously ready to simply fall into it, still in his stage clothes, when I stopped him.

“Come on, you can’t sleep like this.”

“Help me out?” Noah asked, so softly and innocently that, even though he was towering over me and could probably bench press me if he tried, I couldn’t help but melt.

Moving his top up, he just about managed to lift his arms as I struggled to get it off him, almost debating climbing onto the bed just for the height advantage, but we made it work. I ignored the way I had to desperately keep my hands to myself, not allowing myself to let my eyes roam over his skin, explore everything I’d been so curious about. Now simply wasn’t the time.

His trousers came down easily and I busied myself with taking off his shoes, getting everything that could possibly be uncomfortable off him and then turning away to chuck his clothes somewhere near his suitcase. I thanked the heavens that he had made it underneath the blanket by the time I faced him again.

Walking over to the bed, I kneeled down next to it, right where his head was, petting his hair once again as he settled, eyes already closing. He was insanely beautiful, I thought. My heart was doing double time just from looking at him. The intensity scared me a little. I leaned forward, aiming to place a kiss into his hair where my lipstick wouldn't leave a mark, completely taken by my feelings.

“You shouldn't get so close to me.”

I pulled back immediately, surprised by his remark. My hand was awkwardly lingering in the air as I tried to understand what was happening.

“No,” he immediately whined, grabbing onto my wrist and putting my hand back on his face where I carefully brushed his cheek. “Not like that. I meant… on an emotional level.”

I tried to hide the lump in my throat, thankful that his eyes had closed fully by now. “Why?”

“Gonna go wrong,” he mumbled, sleep starting to claim him. “Like always.”

My heart broke a little for him. I'd listened to his songs. I knew what he wrote about. Yet, somehow, when it was so personal, his pain hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn't managed to see so far how deep it went for him. How making out in backstage rooms could be fine. How being sweet and caring could be too much. And yet, it was so glaringly obvious that he craved it.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” I whispered, but he was already fast asleep, chest moving with his calm breathing, a peaceful look on his face despite it all.

I didn’t stop myself from pressing a kiss into his hair before tucking him in a little more, turning the lights off and leaving the room.

•••

I made it back to the arena in record time, catching Bring Me The Horizon waiting to go on stage just before the intro was starting. Oli was getting warmed up, jumping around to prepare himself for the show, but apparently our little meeting earlier hadn’t passed him by unaffected. His stage outfit was always on point - just as his trousers always seemed a little… well, tight, in spaces. Tonight, it seemed to be a little worse than usual.

It was my chance to even the score.

For a moment, I lingered, not hiding the way I was staring at his crotch. It didn’t take long for him to notice, stopping his movements. I let my gaze wander up his body, smirking at him before I, quite obnoxiously, bit my lip and raised my eyebrows, then looking back down. It summoned him immediately.

“Stop that,” he growled. The fact that he was so very much not amused just made this better. He’d been teasing me for days now. It was time for payback.

“Why? It’s pretty… hard to look away, you know.”

My hands reached out, almost managing to touch the belt, but he was quicker, wrapping his fingers around my wrists and holding them tightly. I relished the way it caused a shiver to run through me. I had always enjoyed a dominant man. Almost as much as I enjoyed being a brat in return.

“It’s not exactly helping, love.”

“Does it bother you?” I asked, sounding as innocent as I possibly could, fluttering my eyelashes at him, struggling a little against his restraints. “Knowing that I’m looking at it? Knowing that it turns me on?”

The intro was starting in the background. Oli was getting a little more restless, knowing he didn’t have much time.

“Knowing that I want to touch it?” I once again tried to reach for him, but he held me at bay. “That I want to see what it really looks like?”

He pushed me backward, not caring that I collided slightly with a few boxes, staring me down as if it did anything to me but turn me on more.

“You’re a fucking menace and-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as a stagehand put his hand on his shoulder, informing him of his cue. Oli shot me one more look, angry but obviously affected, before removing his grip on my wrists and taking his place, ready to get the show started.

And what a show he was giving. The good mood returned quite easily, the audience was giving back generously, and I figured that the fact that I had riled him up so much wasn’t hurting the performance either. Yet, the problem in his pants persisted and every time he happened to walk in my direction, I was shot an accusatory look, which I only replied to via my hand casually wandering over my chest, brushing against my own breast, just to make it a little worse.

It worked like a charm.

Bring Me barely managed to finish AmEN! when a problem in the crowd became apparent. Oli made quick work of stopping the show, instructing security, telling the crowd to back away a little, to take care of each other, to get some water. An executive decision was made to give everyone a breather, let the audience calm down as the band left the stage. Everyone gathered in the space, huddling together and waiting for a sign to let the show continue, but Oli rushed past everyone.

“Gonna go piss,” he announced before disappearing into the labyrinth of corridors backstage.

I didn’t care if anyone noticed me following him. The loo break was such an obvious lie, I wasn’t surprised in the least when he bolted past the toilets and instead headed straight for his dressing room, banging the door shut behind him. Crossing the rest of the corridor, I silently opened it again, taking care not to let him hear as it closed behind me.

Oli wasn’t in the main room. But there were noises from the adjacent bathroom. Noises that I’d never thought I’d get the chance to hear in person.

He was stood in the walk-in shower, his back to the door, one hand resting on the tiled wall in front of him, head hung low, but even from his angle I could see it. His belt was undone. His fly, too. His trousers opened just enough, the underwear pushed down just a little. His hand on his dick.

Ignoring the way my heart threatened to burst out of my chest, I walked around him, squeezing myself between his body and the wall.

He looked divine. Face red, panting, his whole body tensed up under the pressure of getting some quick relief before he had to go back on stage. Even his cock was fucking beautiful. Hard and thick, a stark contrast to the colourful tattoos all around it. He was already leaking, just a little bit, as his hand continued its motion, even when I slid down the wall and got on my knees.

“Aubrey, fuck, what are you doing, I don't have time for this.”

“I know,” I whisper back, still in awe at the sight in front of me, at eye-level now. I felt like I could almost smell it, was so close to touching it. He didn't slow down his movements for a single moment. But we didn't have time to get into the finer things of this situation. “I'm helping you.”

Looking up at him, making sure his eyes were entirely on me, I started unbuttoning my top, slowly revealing more and more cleavage.

“You can finish here, if you want.”

I knew I didn't sound half as innocent as I meant to, but it didn't matter. He groaned so beautifully, I knew I had made the right call. His hand was moving even faster now, desperately chasing his release, towering over me with that raw energy. I wanted to be part of it when he let it run wild.

My top was almost entirely unbuttoned, the curve of my tits on display, heaving roughly with my own quickened breath. I played with the fabric, abandoning the plan of opening the top up all the way and instead moved it so that my nipple peeked out, allowing me to play with it a little, just to give him more of a show.

It proved to be enough. With the most primal noise I had ever heard Oli make - and that included his music -, he came, straight onto my chest, until there was nothing left in him. He almost slumped over. Impressively enough, his aim was immaculate. No traces on my clothes. I let him rest for a moment, not doing anything but indulging in getting to watch him in this state.

“You're a fucking menace,” he repeated with a sigh, still mad, but there was less bite behind it. I didn't reply. I simply watched as he tucked himself back in, fixed his outfit and stood back up properly. Without giving me any more attention, he turned around to walk out of the room. Only, predictably, he couldn't stop himself from looking back one more time. I made sure it was the exact moment I scooped up some of what he had left behind on my skin and licked it up.

The game wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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imaginedanvrs · 6 months

Text

my demon gave me everything

part 3 l masterlist

summary: dark!natasha romanoff x reader. Natasha Romanoff saves the world. Morals, lifestyle and past aside, the fact is that she puts her life on the line for everyone else. And for this, she believes she’s owed something. She saves billions of lives on the regular, so why not take the occasional one for herself?

word count: 2.5k

warnings: dubcon, teasing, degrading, established kidnapping, burns, abuse, power dynamics

You had never hooked up with anyone before, but from what you had learnt from sitcoms, there was usually some kind of big moment of regret when the character woke up the next morning. Maybe they realised they’d fucked someone they knew, or said something stupid while drunk, or do something they could never expect to find themselves doing. Well for you, the latter certainly applied - just not as fast as it did on TV.

Waking up to Natasha’s arms slung across you was…homely. It was warm and gentle and tender and felt like everything you had imagined waking up to someone felt like. You wanted to stay there forever, willing the universe not to burden me with having to go to work. It was then that everything came back to you, along with the pain.

You tried to pry the spy’s hands off of you but her grip grew stronger the more you attempted to shimmy out of her hold, as though you were entrapped in quicksand. “Quit moving so much,” came Natasha’s rough voice, sleepy but still alert. Neither of you moved for a long few minutes until she dragged you closer to her and kissed your neck. “Good morning,” she muttered against you. Your hairs stood on end.

You didn’t reply, too busy trying to ignore the burning along your neck, stomach and thighs as you replayed the events of the night and questioned what the hell you were thinking. Well, you were clearly letting your body do all of it for you but why it had acted as it did you had no idea. Natasha’s hand wandered underneath your shirt to your breasts and you grabbed her wrist to pry it off, pissing the redhead off by doing so. The wrist you had tried to grab was holding yours with bruising force in under a second.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Natasha warned before quite literally kicking you out of bed. You fell with a thud and looked back at the redhead with wide eyes. “Go shower,” she instructed as she moved around behind you. You turned around to see her getting out of bed too and stopped to stare back at you.

“No,” you said, trying to appear as confident as you could when looking her in the eye. “You had your fun, now let me go,” you demanded, clenching your hands into fists as your breathing grew heavy. “I need to get my wounds sorted,” you continued as your eyes flicked to the scarlet sheets. Natasha had an unreadable expression as she stared at you, until it turned into an arrogant smirk.

“You seemed to have your fun too,” she quipped, ignoring your second statement. You wanted so badly to slap her.

“Fuck you,” you spat. Her smirk dropped. “This is kidnapping,” she huffed and rolled her eyes, walking around the outside of the bed and towards her wardrobe, completely unbothered by you.

“Don’t be dramatic,” she said without looking at you, like you were a new pet she was training not to whine. You were too stunned to reply, instead trying subtly to shift your weight from leg to leg in an effort to shift the extra ton on your chest. “And work on your poker face, detka. You’re not fooling anyone with that scared puppy look.” The spy continued as she laid out two outfits on the bed and nodded her head towards the bathroom.

Feeling defeated and embarrassed, you headed for the bathroom without another word. You ran the tap to brush your teeth on autopilot but once you tried to steal a glance in the mirror to keep your eyes on the Avenger the brush went clattering into the sink as you took yourself in. Cuts and bruises everywhere. Dark fingerprints were littered across your arms, thighs, chest and, the most angry one, neck, accompanied by a scarlet stripe in the middle surrounded by smaller mirrored on my chest. The mark of Natasha was everywhere, and they were deep.

The shower had more than enough room for you and ten others, yet you kept close to the corner with a small ledge to sit on. You didn’t turn around when Natasha’s bare front pressed against your back, trying your hardest to ignore her and hoped she would grow bored. Instead, she traced her fingertips across the tattoos on your arms with a hum while you continued to wash yourself. “They’re cute,” she commented. You didn’t reply. “Do you want any more?” Natasha queeried out of genuine curiosity as she continued to feel across the rest of your body. “Maybe here?” She continued, placing her hand on your hip. “Or up here?” Her hand ran across your chest.

You gave no response, giving your attention to the sole task of rinsing yourself of the night before. However, the spy knew if she pushed enough of your buttons she would hit the right one and she had all the patience she needed to do it. Her hand continued up to your neck and your whole body tensed. She grinned. “I would just love to give you some new ink here,” she said with a testing squeeze, threatening to reopen the cuts she had made less than eight hours prior. “Although I suppose you’re marked enough for the time being,” she hummed as she admired the blemishes she had imprinted.

You still didn’t respond as she retraced all of the marks she had taken such time in creating, as though she was admiring an art piece she had recently perfected. “You were so good for me last night,” she cooed as her hand fell to your hip and you became all too aware of the feel of her breasts against you. “You took it all so well,” she continued, making you recall the images you were trying to suppress in shame. “And you loved every second,” Natasha added, just to add some salt to the wound.

“I didn’t,” you attempted to protest but the spy shushed you with a kiss. You didn’t have the energy to push away, so you also didn’t kiss back. Natasha didn’t like that and grabbed your jaw with enough force to make you part your lips for her to slip her tongue in. Her hand gripped your thigh in unison and this time, you really didn’t want it. You frowned and tried to move away but her hold stayed firm.

“You did,” Natasha insisted between kisses and dragged her nails up your thighs just as she did last night. You didn’t shiver. You didn’t react. You stayed still, trying to process the turmoil of it all. You hadn’t wanted it last night but then you had? But now you didn’t want it again but you really didn’t? You didn’t understand. It was all so new and you didn’t know what to make of your feelings or the situation they found themselves applying to.

The spy’s invasive fingers soon found themselves between your legs but stopped short. Natasha breathed steadily against your neck and crooked her own to look at your confused yet entirely unresponsive features. She then gave you a small kiss to the corner of your lips and pried herself off of you and out of the shower, leaving you standing there alone.

It was only once your fingers became wrinkled that you were able to tear yourself away from the soothing shower. Natasha was sitting on the balcony, half submerged in a plume of smoke from her cigarette. You didn’t take her for a smoker but wasn’t that shocked given how much of her character you, along with the rest of the world, had misunderstood.

On the bed was a thin navy blue sweatshirt that looked as though it would hang low like the shirt you had woken up in the day prior, a pair of plain white underwear, and some loose shorts that wouldn’t show under the sweatshirt. You slipped the outfit on without being tempted to look in Natasha’s wardrobe and hesitantly made your way to the balcony where the door was slightly ajar.

It was pleasant outside, a breezy summer midmorning to wake up the city before it grew warmer as the day went by. The spy was sitting close to the railing with a watchful eye over the city, not acknowledging your presence. She didn’t have to. You both knew you knew she knew you were there.

Though there was a table for Natasha’s ashtray, there wasn’t another chair for you to sit on so you stood awkwardly by the door for several minutes before moving close, still without being openly acknowledged, until you placed your hands on the railing and looked out at the city too. You felt Natasha’s gaze shift to you once you did and you wondered if she thought you were going to try and jump over. You wondered if you should.

You glanced down directly below to the busy street just outside the building. You had no idea how far up you were but you reckoned it was high enough that you would die before impact. Would it be on the news? Would it be investigated? Probably not, right? You weren't sure if Natasha was the only Avenger to be… corrupt, but you were sure that even if she was and the rest were as pure as they appeared, S.H.I.E.L.D and whatever higher powers would continue to protect her.

You looked towards Natasha, locking eyes with her interested ones as she took a drag. She would never let you jump. The assassin’s eyes stayed glued to yours, adamant on not looking away first. Those eyes were just as piercing and impossible to read as they were the day before now that the numbness you experienced that morning had faded and your wariness was back. You returned your gaze to the city and felt her do the same.

“What am I here to do?” You asked bluntly, still not understanding your role. “You said I’m here because you brought me home but…what is it you’re expecting me to do?” You turned to face her at the last word, hoping she would recognise how lost you were and having no idea that Natasha had seen that look countless times before.

“Come here,” was all she answered as she put a cigarette out and took another one from her pack. You took several cautious paces towards her until you were blocking her view of the city so she pulled you into her lap without any warning so that you were perched on her left thigh with your legs dangling between hers and her arm around your waist. You didn’t protest but you noticeably tensed.

“Light this,” she instructed as she handed you the lighter and put the cigarette between her teeth. You fumbled with the lighter, surprised she even let you handle it but also under practised with the sparkwheel kind. Natasha smirked at your incompetence to complete such a simple task and hummed when you finally got the flame. It was all too tempting to keep it lit and place it against her shirt but she snatched it out of your hands as soon as the thought crossed your mind, shooting you a warning look when you risked a glance. Bitch.

At that, you took in Natasha’s outfit of a plain black shirt and a matching leather jacket over it. It made her dark orange hair stand clearer against it as it hung loose again. It looked soft, like you would be able to run your hands through it and not feel any knots despite the light wind pushing it about. It was the only colour in her outfit of black too and for a moment you wondered if she ever wore any other colour or at least something looser than sweatpants. The clothes she had given you were loose and in subtle colours, so she must have something. The fact that they smelled of her gave it away. Had she done that deliberately?

When you looked back up she was already watching you with that gaze that made it seem like she was trying to decipher your thoughts. She brought her hand with the cigarette up to your face and pushed the strands of hair the wind had blown out of your face and behind your ear, just like they do in movies. You tensed and turned your head to make her hand fall.

“Now what?” You asked again, adamant not to let yourself soften under her touch.

“Now you behave and I’ll get you a treat,” she said plainly.

What the hell did that mean?

“What kind of treat?” You asked slowly, unsure of what it could mean. “Like…you let me go?” You tried and was met with a condescending chuckle, like a child had just asked to have every sweet in the store.

“That’s cute. I was thinking more like a notepad and some pencils,” she replied vaguely. You narrowed your eyes thoroughly confused.

“What?”

“You like drawing don’t you? I’ll get you something to draw with,” Natasha shrugged.

What the actual hell?

“How did you know that?” You questioned immediately. The spy met your eye, unconcerned by what she had let slip and exhaled through her nose with an all knowing smile.

“I know a lot about you, detka,” she said lowly, bringing her hand up to your cheek again although this time you could feel the heat radiating off her cigarette unnervingly close to your face.

“If that’s true then you’ll know the only thing I want from you is to let me go,” you bit back and the redhead’s smile dropped. You held your breath as she stared back at you before you were broken from the trance by a searing heat on your thigh. You yelped and looked down to see Natasha’s cigarette but pushing into your leg, you hadn’t even noticed when she had moved it there.

“Stop!” You pleaded and tried to push her hand away.

“You should be grateful for everything I’m doing for you,” the spy practically growled as she watched you writhe around in her lap in pain only withdrawing her hand once she deemed you to look pathetic enough. You grabbed at the burnt skin and leapt off her lap. Surprisingly, Natasha let you flee back inside towards the bathroom, a sob threatening to rip from your throat and only allowing it to do so once the door was shut behind you.

You fumbled with the removable shower head and put it on a cool setting, placing it over the red mark on your thigh for as long as you could bear and hoped it would aid in muffling the sound of your crying as a wave of hopelessness crashed over you. Your skin became numb and you took the water away to see the mark growing darker.

God, you hated her so much.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #dark!fic #dark!marvel #dark!natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut

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bottlesofrouge · 3 months

Text

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part five.

word count: 12.6K

warnings: talks of a past physically abusive relationship, smut (finaalllyyy!!!), nsfr!

27 JULY 2018

harry wakes up to lynn sitting on the arm of the couch. her fingers dance along his arm as his name falls from her lips in quiet whispers. it’s still dark outside, and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, struggling to remember just exactly where he is.

silas and lynn had gone into the bedroom shortly after dinner. he wasn’t really sure why he was expecting silas to take the couch, but when the click of the lock echoed through the quiet condo, harry knew that he was stuck with the short end of the stick.

there were no goodnights said and no sleepy smiles from lynn. harry sat in the dark for what felt like hours, listening to the muffled laughter coming from behind the bedroom door while he tried to swallow down the ugly, burning jealousy that came bubbling up in his throat.

“harry,” she whispers again. her touch moves from his arms to his hair. “are you awake?”

“yeah,” he hums. “what’s going on? are you okay?”

“i can’t fall asleep,” she says. “not when i don’t know if you’re alright.”

“why wouldn’t i be alright?” he can barely make out anything in the dark. the only source of light was the dim glow of the moon coming in through an uncovered window. it doesn’t do much, but it illuminates her face enough for him to see the way it’s etched with worry.

“the same reason i can’t sleep unless all of the doors are locked,” she doesn’t elaborate any further, and harry’s not really sure what she means by that. “i’m sorry for waking you. couldn’t tell if you were breathing.”

“do you wanna lay out here with me?” she only blinks at him. “you don’t have to, but i think you’d be able to feel if i was breathing or not.”

“are you sure?”

“c’mere,” he presses himself further into the couch, and lifts the blanket for her to slide under. harry’s shocked a little when she actually does.

it’s uncomfortable at first. he lays there like a board, arms straight down at his sides until lynn reaches behind for his hand. he thinks she’s giving him the key to the front door, but instead she presses his palm to her stomach just like he had done the night before.

it really was a complete accident. harry was so embarrassed to open his eyes and find himself wrapped around her the way he was. lynn was still sleeping when he woke up. she never mentioned it, and he had hoped that maybe she never noticed. he could not have been more wrong.

she doesn’t say anything when she does it, so instead of overthinking the situation and letting it keep him up until the sun rises, he leans into it. harry molds his body to lynn’s, letting his fingers stretch across her tummy just like she wanted them to. their legs are crossed at the ankles, and harry can’t help it when he lets his lips press right where her neck meets her shoulder. he half expects her to push him away, but she only sighs, falling asleep mere seconds later.

✮✮✮

“good morning, cuddle bugs,” harry doesn’t wake up again until silas is practically whisper singing right into his ear. the man’s standing over the two of them, a mug of coffee in each hand and a wide grin on his face.

when harry blinks enough to get the sleep out of his eyes, he sees that lynn’s got her cheek squished against his chest and her arm thrown around his torso. both of her legs are in between his and she had stolen their previously shared blanket and selfishly wrapped herself up in it. “were my cuddles not good enough for you, lynn?”

“oh my god, shut up, silas,” lynn groans, letting herself lean into harry even more. “and close the curtains while you’re up. m’so tired.”

silas does as he’s told before coming back over to harry to hand him one of the mugs he was holding. he sits down in the recliner next to them without saying a word, and turns on some local news station for the two to watch.

the volume’s on low, and silas is too focused on whatever stories that are running that he doesn’t try to engage in any conversation. he is so incredibly thankful for it, too. he wasn’t exactly sure what the other had to say about walking out of the bedroom to find his best friend wrapped around him. he wasn’t sure what lynn has told silas about them, but she surely had to have mentioned the fact that he has been treating her so terribly for the last two months.

harry’s free hand absentmindedly travels to lynn’s hair, fingers gently scratching her scalp as quiet, appreciative hums leave her mouth. he can’t really tell if she’s just in and out of sleep or if she’s fully awake, but he doesn’t care as long as he got lynn like this. he’d be stupid not to wrap himself up in everything that she was willing to give him. after all, it’d all go away as soon as they got back to new york.

part of him couldn’t wait to get home, even though he knew that going home meant he would have to face his parents. he also knew that it meant he would be getting back to his new routine. ever since he stopped sharing his days with an entire bottle of hard liquor, waking up has never felt so good.

he was productive. incredibly productive, actually. during the first week, he got around to turning his office into a small art studio. harry had purchased easels and canvases and nearly an entire display of oil paints. of course he put the transactions on john’s credit card. he thought of it as reparations for his shitty childhood, but if his dad asked, he would say it was a parting gift for his frat.

the other part of him wanted to be anywhere but home because home meant no more waking up to lynn and no more soft kisses and warm touches. home meant morning coffee alone and silence so loud that if he closed his eyes hard enough, he would swear he could hear it screaming.

you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone.

and honestly, the first few days wouldn’t be too bad. harry thinks he’d use the time to clear his head. the forced proximity had him thinking (and feeling) so many confusing things when it came to lynn. he knew that once they were apart for a little while, they’d all go away. maybe the two would even go back to hating each other.

they’d see each other once a week, maybe twice if they were feeling crazy, and harry would only be brutally reminded of just how alone he actually was. the words would echo in his head like they always did. just like the ticking of a clock.

you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone.

maybe it’s his fault for giving himself away so easily. there are so many people who know absolutely nothing about him except for what gets him going in bed, and normally, that fact didn’t bother him one bit. he likes feeling good and making other people feel good, and he loves the fact that he can participate in both of those activities with no strings attached.

however, on the rare days like today, the mere thought of it makes harry want to scratch the skin off his body and start fresh. he wants to be someone new. someone who is loved, and someone that people actually want to know.

and really, that’s where this whole thing stems from. the constant craving for something that is so unattainable for him. he just wants to be known.

harry itches for the day that someone knows just how much he loves ballet and theater. they’ll know he spent the first three years of high school dedicating his life to the drama club, spending afternoon after afternoon designing and painting sets. those long afternoons would soon turn into rehearsing lines in the passenger seat of oliver’s car, nothing but a flashlight on one of their phones illuminating the words on their scripts.

they’ll know he stopped because of how his dad felt about it. they’ll learn all about his senior year football stint, and maybe he’d also be inclined to tell them that he did it just to please him, but even then, john never went to a single game.

“harry,” silas’s leaning forward to nudge harry with his hand. “did you hear me?”

“no,” he admits. “what did you say?”

“i asked if you were hungry. we’re supposed to meet everyone for breakfast in ten.”

“i’m okay,” harry hums. his eyes fall to lynn who’s now created a small wet spot on his shirt with her drool. “you go. she’s been having a hard time sleeping.”

“she has for years,” silas responds. harry isn’t sure if he’s just stating a fact or if he’s trying to make sure he’s aware that he knows lynn in ways that harry never will. “i’ve never seen her out like this though. it’s weird.”

when silas decides to take harry up on his offer, he stands up, stretches, and then puts his shoes on before walking out of the door. it slams a little bit behind him, and lynn jolts at the sound. her head flies up, and she’s looking at harry with wide eyes and parted lips.

“just silas, honey,” his knuckles drag across the highest point of her cheek. “you can go back to sleep for a bit.”

✮✮✮

silas: it’s amelia day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

silas: you better be awake when i get back

silas: first round is on you btw consider it your apology for having to look at you and harry all morning #YUCK

lynn shuts her phone off and peers up at harry to make sure he wasn’t reading over her shoulder. (that would be so humiliating.) she finds him fast asleep underneath her. his head is tilted back, resting on a pillow that was propped up on the arm of the couch. his lips are parted, and she thinks that if she’s quiet enough she could hear tiny snores fall from them. god, he is so cute.

“harry,” she gently shakes him, and when he opens his eyes and blinks a few long blinks like he’s trying to gather his surroundings, she can’t help but laugh. “good morning, sunshine.”

“what time is it?” he rasps out around a yawn.

“nearly noon.” lynn sits up so harry can stretch and sit up properly. “it’s amelia day, so we have to leave soon. get ready, and i’ll make you something to eat. my treat for sharing this uncomfortable thing with me all night.”

lynn only makes them a plate of leftovers that consists of stuff she found in various take out boxes in the refrigerator. it wasn’t anything crazy; yet, it takes nearly fifteen minutes before she has it all set out on the breakfast bar. she shouldn't be blamed though. it’s not her fault that she couldn’t stop thinking about last night.

it wasn’t until silas was knocked out next to her that she realized harry was out in the living room all alone. she didn’t mean to exclude him. it kind of just happened, and she felt so guilty for it. she couldn’t stop wondering just how upset harry would be with her in the morning, and soon after, all of the overthinking turned into wondering if harry was okay.

honestly, she knew deep down there was no reason for him not to be, but that didn’t stop her from going out and checking. that’s all she meant to do, really. she planned on making sure he was alive and well and then she would climb back into bed with silas, but when he made room for her on the couch, lynn couldn’t say no.

she missed sleeping next to him.

it was stupid. they had only been on good terms for a few days, but lynn couldn’t imagine ever falling asleep without him pressed against her again. she thought that maybe it was just the simple fact that she was next to someone that had her sleeping so well, but no. it was harry.

silas has probably spent hundreds of hours helping her fall asleep. nearly every time he’s in town, he sits next to her in bed and runs his fingers through her hair until she’s napping. lynn really did appreciate it so much. she knew she would never get those precious naps in without him, but that was just it. they were always a quick little nap, never lasting more than an hour.

with harry, it was so different. all he had to do was be in the same room as her and she’d be out for hours. it was silly, and all in her mind. of course she knew that, it’s just… she doesn’t really want it to end.

harry doesn’t talk until the two of them are sharing an uber to the town square. he’s exhausted. lynn knows that, and she feels so shitty for having him take the couch. he was doing her a favor being there. the least she could do was give him the bed.

“it’s amelia’s birthday?” his voice is quiet when he asks, like the uber driver hearing would give away the faux relationship.

“no,” she laughs a little, not because of him, but because of what amelia day actually is. “silas pays amelia to watch jane while the adults go out for a few drinks.”

“is it the same day every year?”

lynn shakes her head, “just whenever silas feels like it. it’s usually just the two of us, and he convinces her when he thinks i’ve burnt myself out watching them.”

harry only hums and looks out the window.

lynn sits at the bar, nursing her third dirty martini as she watches silas and harry play a game of darts. silas was honestly great at the game. never once has he let lynn win. however, when harry threw his first dart, she realized that today might be the day her dreams of silas losing come true.

she’s been dreaming of the day ever since she had played against silas for the first time at a bar in her college town. he was visiting her for spring break. nearly the entire school had gone further south to a beach, so they pretty much had the bar to themselves. they played forty seven games that week, and lynn had only been close to winning once.

so, she offers to buy harry a shot if he wins, and when he says he’d rather have a kiss, she says he can have that, too.

she watches as harry goes to throw his dart. he closes one of his eyes and the tip of his tongue sticks out a little at the corner of his mouth every time he brings his hand up to aim. normally, she would’ve poked a little fun because he looked crazy, but she was a couple drinks in and she couldn’t help but find everything harry did to be at least a little bit attractive.

harry throws the winning dart, and lynn already has a shot of don julio waiting for him. she holds the little glass in between her fingers and the lime wedge in between her lips as she moves over to the two guys. a little pool of anxiety fills her stomach when she thinks about what exactly she’s doing. the lime placement seemed like a good idea after she had finished her third drink, but when she sees silas’s face, she thinks that maybe she was wrong.

the worry is only there for a second because harry tips the shot back, and then presses his mouth to hers and takes the wedge in between his teeth. the whole thing has her skin burning all the way from her toes up to her ears, but she doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about it because as soon as he’s done, he’s kissing her.

their kisses are messy and wet, and lynn can taste the lime sitting on his lips and the tequila coating his mouth. his mouth is practically devouring hers in a way that has her chest aching and her fingertips tingling. there’s no way that the vodka and olive juice she had been drinking tasted as good as he’s making it seem.

harry pulls away when silas clears his throat and lynn can’t even work up enough nerve to look over at him. the blush on her cheeks. her heart skipping beats in her chest. the way she feels so giddy. god, it was like she was a teenager again.

“i think we should get another drink before we head back,” silas breaks the silence first.

harry agrees and the two of them follow silas over to the bar. harry’s got his arm around lynn’s back, and his hand rests on her waist. he orders his drink and her dirty martini while she pretends not to feel the way his thumb is sliding against the small sliver of skin poking out between her top and skirt.

lynn sits on a bar stool next to kathleen when her fourth dirty martini is placed in front of her. harry keeps his arm draped around the back of her chair, chatting to silas about their last game. silas claims harry cheated, but harry insists that silas is just a sore loser.

“are you three enjoying your vacation,” lynn hears her dad’s voice from down the bar, and makes no move to respond. instead, she brings her glass up to her lips and takes a big sip.

“i am,” harry turns his attention to the older man, offering him a small smile. “thank you for having me. i really appreciate it.”

“it’s the least i can do since you’ve been putting up with my daughter. she can be a lot to handle sometimes.”

her dad laughs, and lynn can’t help the rage that’s bubbling up in her chest. putting up with my daughter? how would he know what putting up with lynn was like? peter was only around for half of her life, and even then, they’ve only shared a few hundred words with each other, if that. the man barely fucking knew her.

“it’s quite the opposite,” she feels harry moving his hand from the chair to wrap around her shoulder and pull her into his chest. “really, lynn puts up with me.”

“good to know, but i was referring to jane,” he brings his bottle to his lips. “she has so much energy, and at my age…”

lynn doesn’t really care what else her father has to say, so she turns her attention to the bartender and orders herself one more. it would probably end up being a mistake because she could already feel her head going all fuzzy. (and that was obvious a drink ago when she made out with harry in the back corner of the bar.) but, she felt like she needed it in order to stomach being around her parents for a second longer.

“you’re sure you need another?” kathleen’s speaking to her. “don’t want to have a repeat of the last time where you didn’t even make it to dinner.”

lynn decides to pretend like she didn’t hear, and insteads thanks the bartender when he slides the glass in front of her. she didn’t come to dinner the night her mother is referring to because of something more than a little too much to drink, and she thinks that if she lets herself think about it for a minute longer, she’d start crying so hard that she might end up coughing up a lung.

aunt cecilia moves from the other side of her father to sit next to silas. she strikes up a conversation with the two boys, and lynn can’t make the buzzing in her brain quiet down enough to focus on what they’re saying. it is so unfair that being around her mother has the ability to ruin what was supposed to be a fun day with her friends.

lynn gets why silas invited her parents. really, she does. just because they treated her so poorly, doesn’t mean they treated everyone else the same. that was obvious when silas came home from his freshman year of college to all of his stuff sitting on the front lawn of his parents’ house. peter and kathy had moved every discarded item of his into the guest room within the day, and silas claimed it as his own until he moved out for good two years later.

“y’alright, honey?” harry’s voice is so low and breathy. it tickles her ear enough to make her laugh, and he offers her a warm smile at the sound. “there we go.”

his lips tenderly press against her forehead and then he’s leaning back to look at her, worry deep in his eyes. she loves when harry’s soft like this, even if she can see silas rolling his eyes at the two of them in her peripheral.

“i miss your last boyfriend,” lynn’s brought out of her trance by kathleen’s voice. “he never touched you like this in front of us. it’s just disrespectful.”

lynn thinks that she’s misheard her mom at first, but when harry’s hands fall from her, she knows he’s heard it, too. silas and aunt cece are deep in conversation, missing what kathleen had just said, and harry’s looking at her with a frown on his lips. his eyes are pleading with hers, like he’s trying to apologize for something that isn’t even his fault.

“i’m sorry, ms. kathy. i didn’t eve-”

“yeah, well,” lynn clears her throat. “jaxson used to hit me when we weren’t in front of you guys.”

“what?”

she knows that she shouldn’t have said it, especially not here. lynn’s just so upset and angry and sad, and all she wanted to do was make kathleen feel the way she has been making her feel since the day she was born. like a complete and utter failure.

“i couldn’t make it to dinner last time because my mouth was bleeding so bad,” her voice is quiet, yet her confession draws the attention from the rest of the group. “not because of one too many drinks.”

it was definitely the five dirty martinis that had her spilling the secret she’s held on to the tightest, but it’s out now and so were the tears that came flooding from her eyes.

“why didn’t you tell us?” her mom has tears of her own on her cheeks, and it only makes lynn roll her eyes. kathleen never really cared about her, and she wasn’t about to start letting her now.

“don’t you see how you treat me? of course i didn’t come to you. nothing i ever do is worth a second of your time,” lynn feels so incredibly vulnerable as she speaks. she half expects kathleen to tell her to grow up, and the other half expects her to get on her hands and knees and apologize profusely for being such a shit mother.

she does neither. instead her eyes fall on silas and aunt cece, a look of realization spreading across her face. “you two knew.”

when lynn showed up on her aunts’ doorstep after a particularly rough fight with her ex, aunt cece helped put her back together again and let her move in for a few months. they hid it from peter and kathleen, per lynn’s request, and when jane was born, she went home. the three of them never really spoke about it, but lynn thinks she wouldn’t be standing here right now if it wasn’t for aunt cece and aunt rosie.

“this is exactly what i fucking mean,” she stands up from her stool, using harry to steady herself, and then she begs him to please, please take her back to the condo.

and he does. harry doesn’t say anything the entire uber ride back. instead, he holds her hand in his lap and wipes under her nose with the sleeve of his shirt when he’s had enough of her loud sniffing.

“i could’ve found a tissue,” her voice is so scratchy it hurts when she speaks.

“but you didn’t,” harry counters. “‘was kind of grossing me out if i’m being honest.”

“heeeeey,” her hands gently shove his shoulders as she laughs under her breath. it’s quiet for a second, and she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from his. it’s like she can feel the pity from his eyes seeping into her own, and it makes her a little sad. “please don’t look at me like that.”

harry looks away and clears his throat, and lynn feels so incredibly guilty for even saying anything, “i don’t like when people pity me. i didn’t mean…”

“i know you didn’t mean to tell me, but knowing now helps me understand you better.” he’s running his forefinger along the creases in her palm. “and i don’t mean to make you feel like i pity you. i just… you didn’t deserve to go through that.”

“okay,” she offers him a warm smile. “i was going to tell you, but i was nervous that i’d scare you away.”

“you could never scare me away.”

“why’s that? am i your only friend?” lynn only means it in a teasing way, but the way harry’s smile drops says that she’s hit the nail on the head.

“yeah,” his face draws together when he speaks. “um, i don’t know. there’s not really anyone besides you. sorry if that’s weird or makes you uncomfortable. i’m not the best at making friends.”

“s’not weird. i was only joking, harry. i didn’t mean-”

“you don’t have to apologize,” his eyes fall to his lap, and then he looks back up to her. “that’s not why you can’t scare me away. i just… i like having you around, lynn. i don’t want that to change once we go home.”

his words make her cheeks warm, “it won’t. i like having you around, too.” and when that doesn’t feel like enough, “i’m really glad you came, harry.”

29 JULY 2018

when harry wakes up, the bed is empty and the condo is quiet. there’s no echoes of an overworked coffee pot and no hushed whispers bouncing off the walls. his phone reads 11:53am, and there is nothing but a singular text from lynn sitting in his notification center.

getting breakfast with si & then going to the beach. join us when you’re awake :)

harry gets out of bed and heads for the shower to wash the sleep off of his face (and also the sweat off of his body). he’s spent the last two nights wrapped up with lynn in the bed while silas took the couch. the girl loved her blankets, and being next to her sometimes made him feel like he was next to a furnace.

he decides against joining the two when he’s on his second lather of shampoo. after lynn had talked about her last relationship at the bar, the three have practically been conjoined at the hip doing pretty much everything together. even at the family dinners, they sat at the end of the table next to jane and amelia to keep kathleen, or anyone else, from bringing it up.

as soon as harry heard what lynn said, he wanted to throw up. he felt sick the entire uber drive back, and even worse when they sat on the couch next to one another and she told him about the time she had brought him here. lynn was so incredibly kind, and the thought of anyone hurting her was just so devastating.

but, he did as she asked, and tried acting like looking at her didn’t make his chest feel like it was caving in. (because it did.) instead, he offered her kisses and soft touches every time the thoughts got to be a little too much. lynn deserved to feel loved and appreciated, and he was going to make sure she never forgot that.

harry: i think i’ll spend some time with your sisters. have fun with silas

her response comes through almost immediately.

lynn: they’d loooove that!!! couldn’t stop talking about you at breakfast

lynn: i’ll miss you today :(

the grin that spreads across harry’s face when he reads the message is embarrassing. he never really understood what people meant when they said ‘giggling and kicking my feet’, but when he catches his reflection in the mirror, he gets it.

jane and amelia are waiting for him on the front porch of their condo, and as soon as he’s in sight, the little girl runs to him like she’s an olympian sprinter. she giggles as she does, and harry soaks up every last one because he knows there will be a time when he is nothing but a distant memory for her.

the three of them walk to an ice cream parlor that harry has been dying to go to since the first day they arrived. the outside was painted a bright pink and had mismatched patio furniture sitting out in front of it. he always found these ice cream shops to be the best, and preferred them over the lousy chains.

harry orders his usual mint chip and jane her chocolate chip, and then he tells amelia to get whatever she wants. it was his treat today, even though the two girls were the ones to bring up the idea to go. the older sister decides on a plain strawberry shake, and once it’s all paid, they sit at one of the tables outside.

“don’t forget your napkin,” he reminds jane. “i don’t want to return you all covered in sugar.”

the little girl laughs, and wipes awaythe river of melted vanilla ice cream flowing down her chin, “s’okay. mom says it’s bath night anyway.”

harry listens as jane then goes into a play by play of her day. if one singular detail was wrong, she’d have to pause, reset the scene, and then she could continue. it starts with her saying she chose a red shirt to wear, but actually it was more orange now that she’s thinking about it. then, it’s what she ate for breakfast. jane realizes midway through that she had actually eaten four apple slices instead of the five she said previously because silas had taken one from her plate. the whole thing is painful, but harry sits through every second of it with a smile on his face.

“you alright, amelia?” harry asks once jane has quieted down and turned her attention back to her ice cream. “you’ve been quiet.”

“does lynn ever talk about her last boyfriend?"

he swallows. "yeah. she talks about him sometimes. why?”

“he was mean to me,” amelia states. “and i thought you’d be the same.”

“melia, i would never-”

“i know. i know,” amelia’s quick to cut him off. “that was obvious when jane hit you with that ball.”

jane’s shoulders drop at her sister’s words, “i’m still very sorry, harry.”

“i know you are, janey,” his hand squeezes her little arm from across the table. “i already told you to stop worrying about.”

“i feel bad for being so rude to you,” amelia admits. “and for trying to get lynn to break up with you.”

“you what?”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t-” the girl’s stumbling over her words like she can’t get them out fast enough when harry interrupts her with a laugh. really, he doesn’t mean to, but the thought of amelia trying to end a relationship that wasn’t even real to begin had him giggling.

"no need to be sorry," he says. "if i saw my sister in a bad relationship, i'd probably act the exact same. probably even worse if i’m being honest.”

“a man who grew up with girls,” amelia nods her head slowly before sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed. “makes sense.”

“now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s a compliment! ugh, you’re so old.”

harry laughs at the girls in front of him, a feeling of genuine happiness washing over him. maybe he was planning too far ahead, but he can't help but think that he actually does want to be a dad.

“hurry up and finish your ice cream,” he says. “i think there’s a souvenir shop we can go to just a few stores up the street.”

the three don’t end up going back until dinner time. the two girls walk in front of him, each swinging their shopping bags at each other for no other reason than to be annoying. he didn’t really mean to spend a hundred dollars on the two, but he did. jane always looked up at him with big round eyes and he could never say no.

they had passed a boutique with a blue dress hanging in the window, and amelia made a comment about it matching the shade of lynn’s eyes. she was right. it was printed with this floral pattern and had ruffles at the sleeves. harry couldn’t stop thinking about just how pretty lynn would look in it, and that’s how he ended up with a bag of his own.

maybe it was pushing the boundaries of their friendship a little too far, but he really didn’t care. harry thinks it would be a crime for that dress to belong to anyone besides lynn.

aunt cece is the one who opens the door when jane knocks, and to his surprise, she invites him in to enjoy the dinner that she had prepared. he’s about to say no when she lets him know that lynn and silas had gone into town for an early dinner of their own before he had to go to the airport, so he changes his mind and joins the two aunts in the kitchen.

harry sits at the table while the two shared red wine out of a singular glass along with what seemed like a million kisses. rosie rested herself against cece’s back as she finished transferring the meal to serving dishes. she’d whisper things to the other in tones so quiet harry couldn’t make out the words, but each time aunt cece’s face would flush and she’d playfully push the other woman away.

he hopes he gets a love as pure as theirs when he’s older.

“what’s in the bag?” aunt rosie joins him at the table.

“it’s nothing really,” harry can feel his cheeks grow warm and he does his best to avoid the woman’s stare.

“oh come on, you’re blushing all the way to your neck. what is it? we’re very big on sex positivity, so-”

“oh my god. it’s a dress. a normal dress,” harry can’t listen to it a second longer. his finger pulls the collar of his shirt away from his neck. god, why was it so hot it here?

“aww,” aunt rosie coos at him, peaking into the brown paper bag. “it looks gorgeous, harry.”

he hums. “it reminded me of her.”

“you should take her to that restaurant she was talking about this morning tomorrow. give her a chance to wear it,” aunt cece says from the kitchen, and rosie seconds the idea.

“i overslept today, so i don’t really know which one you’re talking about.”

“hmm,” the woman in the kitchen has her hand on her hip and her face in her hands. “i’m forgetting the name.”

“latitudes,” kathleen’s voice comes from the doorway. “that’s the restaurant.”

harry can tell by her demeanor that she’s trying to be nice, so he offers her a warm smile before thanking her.

dinner isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. he imagined it being incredibly awkward because of what had happened a few days prior, but surprisingly it’s not. he’s not really sure what was said or what happened after he had left with lynn, but he suspects it was something eye opening by the way kathleen is acting.

when gets back to his condo, he finds lynn sitting on the living room floor with at least twenty photobooks sprawled around her. there’s a half full bottle of wine on the side table, and an empty glass seated at her feet. he wasn’t really sure where she kept getting so much wine. they had only purchased three bottles.

“hey,” he’s kicking his shoes off by the door.

“hey,” she doesn’t look up. her eyes are too focused on some photos that she’s holding in her lap, and he takes the opportunity to slip the boutique bag into one of his drawers.

harry changes into his pajamas and then gets himself a glass from the kitchen. with a deep breath, he moves to the living room and sits next to her on the ground. “can i join you?”

“you don’t have to ask,” lynn reaches for the bottle before filling both of their glasses and setting it back down. she offers him a smile, “such a silly question, harry.”

“did you and silas have a good day?”

“the best,” she says with a grin on her face. harry can’t help the jealousy that starts burning in his chest. he wonders if she says the same when silas asks about him. “we found all of these photobooks. what about you? were the girls good?”

“so good,” he replies. “we got ice cream, and had a little shopping trip.”

“i bet they had so much fun,” she takes her eyes away from the photo book to look up at him. her mouth opens and she pauses, and then, “i missed you today.”

they sit next to each other as lynn opens up a fresh book. it was full of photos from when she was only a kid. there were so many pictures of her in the summertime, lounging around a swimming pool wearing rugrats themed swimmies and eating ice cream, and there were even more of her hanging from the monkey bars in playgrounds and posing cutely in flower fields. his favorites were the ones of her standing behind a mixing bowl with a monogrammed apron tied around her waist.

as she turns the pages, the pictures turn from summer to fall and it goes from wide toothy smiles soaking up the sun rays to close lipped grins at school events. there were photos of her at chorus concerts and class parties and some of her sitting with her arms around her friends in the school cafeteria.

there’s a woman who appears in quite a few of the photos, not enough that he would say she was in almost all of them, but enough that harry recognizes her presence. she looked nothing like lynn or any of her family members. her skin was tan and she had long dark hair with matching dark eyes. she wore red lipstick in a lot of the photos, and every time she did, baby lynn had a matching red lip print stamped on the side of her cheek.

“who’s that?” harry decides to ask when she pulls out a picture from the plastic sleeve. it was of the woman hugging her tight while lynn held up a little certificate indicating she won some award.

“she was my au pair,” lynn traces the corners of the picture as she brings it closer to her face.

“the one your dad had an affair with?”

lynn shakes her head. “the one after. elena,” she clarifies. i spent most of my childhood with her.”

“yeah? it looks like she loved you an awful lot.”

“y’know like that feeling that you get when you think of your mom?” she asks. “i get that when i think of her. she was wonderful, harry.”

“do you still talk to her?”

“no, i think my mom stopped hiring her when amelia was two,” her voice is thick when she speaks, and harry can see the glassiness in her eyes when she looks over to pass him the photo. “i still use that recipe in my bakery today. i wish she could see it.”

harry looks at the photo and can’t stop the smile from growing on his lips. little lynn was grinning so wide, her smile nearly went from ear to ear. the certificate was proudly displayed in her hands with a large FIRST PLACE written across the top. elena had her arms wrapped around her body so tightly, you could see the imprints of her fingertips in little lynn’s flesh. his fingers flip the photo over, and his eyes scan the words written on the back.

e. adams, 1998

“you’re what?” harry speaks. “24? 25?”

“i’m 27,” the girl laughs when she sees harry’s face. “what? is 24 too young for you?”

“i’m 21, lynn,” he deadpans. “freshly, too. my birthday’s in february.”

“oh god,” her wine glass nearly tips over when she turns to face him, and harry wraps his fingers around the stem to catch it.

neither of them speak for a moment. her eyes are scanning over his face like she’s not really sure what to say. both of them had just assumed they were each other’s age.

“is that,” harry pauses. “does that bother you?”

lynn’s bottom lip goes between her teeth before she sighs, “i mean, it’s all pretend, isn’t it?”

harry wants to say that it doesn’t feel all pretend when lynn’s got his mouth pressed to his. or when they’re alone and her fingers rub every ounce of stress from his body. or when they’re in bed every night, pressed so closely together that harry can feel the way her heart beats against his own.

instead, he only smiles. “yeah, i guess it really doesn’t matter.”

they each finish their glass of wine, and harry’s quick to pour them the rest of whatever’s left in the bottle. honestly, she was right. what they were doing was supposed to be pretend. it was his fault for letting parts of it get too real.

maybe lynn didn’t need to know that some of his family disowned him because of his queerness. she also probably didn’t need to hear harry’s drunken confession about him being a friendless loser, and she definitely could’ve gone without seeing him sleeping with someone else.

he takes another large gulp of wine when the realization hits. he likes that she knows those things about him.

“evelyn,” her voice is soft as it pulls him from his thoughts.

“hm?”

“i know you saw it,” she points to the discarded photo on the ground between them. harry was so focused on the bolded 1998, he didn’t even notice the tiny e that preceded it.

“evelyn,” the intensity of his voice matches her, and as soon as the words leave his lips, her eye’s fill with tears. “oh, don’t cry.”

“they’re good tears,” she breathes. “promise.”

his hand cradles her face and tucks her hair behind her ear so it doesn’t get all sticky from the now falling tears. the way she looks up at him feels so real to harry, and it makes his chest grow tight. he didn’t know how he’d be able to walk away from all of this unscathed, but at least he had her now. he’d be stupid not to soak up everything she wanted to give him.

“it’s a pretty name,” he’s nearly whispering now. “fits you.”

“it was my grandmother’s,” she chews on her lips. “she was lovely, harry.”

“she sure seems like it,” her head feels heavy in his hand like she’s relying on him to hold it upright for her. “why’d you change it?”

“jaxson ruined it for me, and hearing it was a lot,” she sighs and her eyes squeeze shut. “it’s stupid i know.”

“i don’t think it’s stupid, blondie,” she looks up at him like she doesn’t necessarily believe him, and harry thinks that if he didn’t find out that she was twenty fucking seven years old minutes prior, he’d kiss her. “not stupid at all.”

really, he still wants to. harry wants to kiss her so hard that she forgets that goddamn loser that made her own name sound unbearable to her. the thought just makes him so incredibly angry. he could kill him.

“hearing it used to make my stomach churn,” she admits.

“it doesn’t anymore?”

her head shakes, “no. at least not when it comes from you.”

“i can call you evelyn if that’s something you want,” lynn sits up when he offers, straightening herself so she’s no longer leaning into his touch. he instantly misses the weight of her.

“yeah, i mean if it’s not too much of an ask. and maybe not in front of my family? it’s been forever since anyone’s called me that. i just- haven’t been able to recognize myself in the mirror since i started going by lynn.” she laughs lightly, but it just sounds sad at this point. “sorry, i think i’ve had too much wine.”

“yeah, i can do that,” harry hums, and he can’t help it when he reaches for her hand. his finger trails across the back of her knuckles. “it’ll be our little secret, won’t it, evelyn?”

30 JULY 2018

harry is absolutely gnawing the fuck out of the sides of his fingers while he waits for lynn to get out of the shower. as soon as she went in (for the third time because she kept forgetting things), he had laid out the dress neatly on the bed with a necklace that kathleen had slipped him at breakfast. she had said that it was lynn’s grandmother’s.

he wasn’t really sure if this whole thing was crossing the line of their fake dating arrangement. they’d be going for no other reason than to spend some time together, but really, friends spend time together all the time. silas and lynn just had dinner last night.

but did silas buy her a dress for it?

whatever. it was too late to take it all back now. he hears the water shut off, and harry knows he’ll see how she really feels about it soon. he was going to be sick.

the sound of the door knob twisting echoes through the quiet room, and then, “harry?”

“yeah?” he sounded so fucking stupid.

“what’s all this?”

“um, a dress?”

lynn moves into the doorway of the bedroom to look at him. she’s wearing a robe around her body and a towel in her hair. “obviously. where did it come from?”

“a boutique,” he replies, and she raises her eyebrow. “i bought it for you yesterday. with amelia and jane.”

“you bought me that?” her voice is quieter than before, and she no longer has the teasing smile that was sitting on her lips just a moment ago.

“yeah,” why did he feel so shy? “if you don’t like it, i kept the receipt-”

“don’t like it? harry, i love it. it’s gorgeous.”

“good,” he sighs. “i thought so, too.”

lynn doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t move from her spot in the doorway either. she’s got the softest smile on her face, and she’s looking at him like she’s not really sure what she wants to do next.

“well, go put it on,” he’s moving in her direction to get to the shower. “you don’t want to miss our latitudes reservations, do you?”

“no way!” she shrieks, and when harry follows it with a corny little ‘yes way’, she hugs him around his neck so tightly, her feet aren’t even touching the ground. “thank you. thank you. thank you.” her words are being whispered against the skin of the crook of his neck.

“it was nothing, really.”

“you always say that,” lynn leans away from him, still keeping her arms around his neck.

“i just like seeing you like this,” and maybe he should have picked different words.

“what?” she laughs. “half naked and pressed up against you?”

“jesus christ, no,” his cheeks warm, and he can feel the way her fingers are rubbing the back of his neck. “happy. you’re different here.”

“only when you’re the one here with me,” she presses a kiss to his cheek before stepping back. “now get in the shower. we are not missing latitudes.”

✮✮✮

lynn talks so much during the uber ride to the ferry port. she does it with a big grin on her face, and harry can tell that she’s genuinely excited about their night he had planned. she spends the entire drive discussing the menu and comparing it to yelp reviews, and when they’re on the ferry, she tells him stories about coming here with her grandma while her fingers toy with the small pendant that hangs from the gold chain around her neck.

the two talk all the way through two appetizers and a bottle of wine. harry lets lynn order everything for them because she was the one who wanted to come in the first place, and also because she had spent so much time dissecting the menu. honestly, he didn’t really care what he ate, as long as she was having everything she wanted.

their table was right on the beach, and he had a perfect view of the sun starting to set right behind lynn. harry was sure of only two things at this moment. lynn looks breathtaking in her pretty blue dress, especially during sunset, and he absolutely adores hearing her voice. harry thinks he could hear her talk forever and ever.

she tells him the story from the picture of her and elena with the first place certificate. it was a simple strawberry cheesecake cupcake, and the two had spent nearly a month practicing beforehand. lynn swears that they came out perfect every single time, except for the day of the contest. apparently, the first batch of icing wasn’t setting properly because she had cried too hard over the bowl.

when their mains come, harry realizes that this is the first time the two have hung out and gotten to know each other without some depressing undertone hanging around their conversation. sure, harry learned about elena last night, but the conversation was sad. here, lynn talked about her childhood with shiny eyes, and laughed with harry when he did the same with his.

“have you ever been grand gestured?” lynn asks around a forkful of seared grouper. her dish looked absolutely delicious, and harry regretted not getting it himself.

“not unless you’re counting a cheesy promposal.”

“hm,” she hums. “i’m going to have to go with no.”

“what about you?” harry picks up the wine bottle sitting in the chiller and works on refilling both of their glasses. “have you ever been grand gestured?”

“this is as close as i’ve come.”

“this is not a grand gesture,” harry stresses. he’s worried it’ll come across wrong for a moment until she laughs. “i just meant this is the bare minimum.”

“i know,” she smiles at him, and harry wishes he could take a picture of this moment and keep it tucked away inside his brain forever. “thank you for this again, harry.”

he’s a bit tipsy, and he can tell she is too by the amount of giggles leaving her mouth. harry always saw a sad lynn when she was drunk, and he can’t believe he was lucky enough to see this side of her, too.

this side was magical. there was really no other way to put it. she was the kind of woman that people write books about.

when harry gets tired of his pasta, he twirls little bites around his fork before leaning across the table and feeding it to lynn. it was probably a little immature to be doing at a restaurant like this, but he didn’t really care, and he could tell that she didn’t either by the little appreciative hums that fell around his fork everytime.

“ugh,” she groans when harry orders a slice of key lime pie for dessert. “harry, i’m going to explode!”

“s’okay,” his hand reaches across the table to pat the top of hers. “you don’t have to eat any of it.”

“of course i do. you know i love a sweet treat,” and really, he didn’t, but he does now.

their arms are wrapped around each other’s backs as they walk in through the front door of the condo. lynn immediately goes to the kitchen to get the last of their remaining wine while harry takes the bedroom to change into something a little comfier.

“more wine? where all you getting all of these?”

“been swiping them from my mom’s cabinet,” lynn’s sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the couch, and she laughs at harry’s words, the half empty bottle of wine pressed to her lips. after a sip, she stretches her arm out to harry, “c’mon. it’s our last night.”

he sits next to her, taking a gulp from the bottle before passing it back. “did you have fun tonight?”

“of course i did,” her voice is quiet, not much above a whisper. “i always have fun when we’re together.”

harry turns his head so he’s looking at her. he watches as her eyes drop to his mouth and then travel back up. a little laugh makes her hair float around her face, and as soon as harry thinks she’s leaning in, she stops with a loud ow falling from her lips.

and that’s how harry ends up sitting on the couch with lynn between his knees, working at the pinched nerve she complained about.

"jesus, you're so tight," harry mutters as his thumbs dig into the flesh of her shoulders.

"you're not the first guy to say that.”

"absolutely filthy tonight, aren't you?"

she laughs, and rests her head on her knees. a breathy moan pushes past her lips when he digs into a particularly sore area, "feels good. my neck fucking aches."

harry continues working her shoulders and neck, paying extra attention to the areas that make her breath hitch. he can’t stop looking at the way her lips part and eyebrows draw together. her head tilts back, and her neck strains, like she’s trying to stop herself from making a sound. the soft sighs and muffled whines that she does let fall from her mouth are enough to make him half hard.

he’s embarrassed by it, and really, he tries to think of anything else. if lynn knew he was feeling this way, they’d probably never speak to each other again, but her skin is just so soft and warm, and she sounded so fucking pretty. he really couldn’t help it.

“didn’t realize how much i missed this,” she murmurs with her head leaning against his knee.

“getting a massage? you know they have places for that.”

“knock it off,” he can feel her fingers pinching at his ankle. “i meant this… touching.”

harry hums. “i know what you mean.”

“what?” lynn laughs. “is seven days without taking someone to bed too long for you?”

harry hasn’t been with anyone in weeks. not since lynn had walked in on him and the girl from the bar. he wasn’t necessarily avoiding sex. it’s just that every time he’s gotten close to bringing someone home, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“s’different when it’s someone you care about,” he says instead.

harry can feel the way lynn stops picking at the carpet. her body stills except for her shoulders which move up with a deep breath when his fingers brush over her neck. he’s not really working out the knots in her muscle anymore. he’s just… touching.

it doesn’t last for very long because lynn is soon crawling up to sit next to him on the couch. she drapes her knees over his with a sigh on her lips and color blooming on her cheeks. her eyes are glassy when he looks into them, and her mouth is open like she’s going to say something. she doesn’t.

instead, her fingers cup his cheek, and then her mouth is pressing short, sweet kisses to his. she’s slow with it. her lips lazily sucking, and sometimes she drags her tongue slowly across his bottom lip, never letting it venture past that. harry savors her kisses, letting her do whatever she wants.

he knows it’s just fun for her. she’ll probably pull away with a giggle and say something about how it’s been so long since she’s been kissed like that. she’d press her lips against his once more and then they’d go to sleep. it was his fault for letting it feel intimate. with every suck of her mouth, he felt the want for her grow hot in his belly. she was just so perfect.

her lazily kisses pick up a little more pace until they’re feverish. she sucks and licks and harry groans when he feels her teeth nip at his lips. he thinks he possibly couldn’t get even more turned on than he is right now and then she’s straddling his lap, her knees tightly pressed at the sides of his thighs.

“fuck,” she gasps into his mouth as soon as he feels her against him. harry can’t even think straight. the warmth of her has his brain going foggy and his heart racing in a way that should probably be concerning. all it took was one roll of her hips, and he was a pathetic, whining mess beneath her.

"maybe you'd like a reward for all of your hard work?" she breathes into his mouth as she grinds down against him.

"i hope it's that mouth," the pad of his thumb brushes across her lips. they’re swollen and shiny with their spit. "y'know how much i like kissing you. still sweet from dessert, too.”

"how does my throat sound?" harry thinks that he’s heard her wrong, but then she parts her lips and takes his thumb into her mouth, sucking hard.

he can’t help the way he groans at the sight in front of him. her pretty blue dress all the way up to her thighs with her red lips wrapped around his thumb. she is going to kill him.

when she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, harry pushes his thumb further back before pressing it down right at the back of her mouth. she gags at the intrusion, looking down at him with big, teary eyes.

"don't think you could fit all of me in there," he pushes down a few more times just to see the way her eyes water over, and then he lets his thumb smear the thick saliva pooling at the corners of her mouth down her chin and all the way to her chest.

"wanna find out?"

he hums, leaning forward. "how bad do you want it?"

she laughs a little, the air from her mouth fanning across his face. "i don't beg, harry. especially not for you. don’t you see that?”

"oh really?" he pulls her into a searing kiss, letting his fingers slide all the way around to the back of her neck until they’re threaded in her hair. harry grabs a fistful of the soft strands and pulls her mouth away from his while his other hand nudges her leg over so she’s back sitting next to him. "that's too bad, blondie."

his lips sponge soft, wet kisses from her mouth down to her shoulders, and then back up. he angles her head so he can trail them up the front of her throat all the way to right below her ear. he lets his teeth graze at the soft skin until she’s letting out a shaky breath and pushing his face away.

"god, harry," he thinks she's going to cave. "i know you're practically a teenager, but you don't have to try and mark me up like one."

"didn't realize turning thirty meant you can't have any fun," harry bites back.

"i am not-" he presses his lips to hers, swallowing down whatever else she was going to say. he thinks if he had to spend one more second without his mouth on hesr, he’d die. "you're lucky you're pretty."

"you think i'm pretty?" he's got a teasing grin on his face.

"don't be annoying. look at you.” and that was it. he knew exactly how to get under her skin.

"do you think i'm prettiest in those yellow swim shorts you put in my suitcase?" he’s leaning in so his nose is nudging hers. lynn’s face flushes and she opens her mouth to speak but closes it. "don't get all shy on me now. i've felt you staring all day."

she scoffs, hands coming up to push at harry’s chest. "you wish."

"maybe i do," a kiss. "wore them just for you after all."

lynn fists his t-shirt, bringing his mouth back to hers. they kiss like they’ve been starved of each other for weeks. harry lets his touch slide up her calf, and his fingers caress the back of her knee.

"harry," her words are soft. a whimper.

"evelyn," harry’s fingers push higher, running all the way up to the inside of her thigh and back down. each time his touch gets closer until he’s thumbing at the cotton edge of her underwear. "what's the matter, blondie? you've gone all quiet on me."

"please," is all she says. it’s so quiet, harry barely catches it over the sound of his heart thumping in his ears.

"what was that?"

"you heard me.”

"i don't think i did."

"please, harry," she rolls her eyes at him, but harry sees right through it.

"please what?" his thumb slides a little under her underwear where he could feel the heat pooling. "are you still all achy?"

lynn nods with a whine in her throat and she turns her head to try and hide the pink flush in her cheeks. looking at her is practically intoxicating.

"gonna tell me where so i can make it better?"

when she doesn’t answer, he squeezes her shoulder, "here?"

her head shakes.

“hmm..” his fingers trail to her neck. “here?”

another shake.

“what about here?” he says as his fingers pinch back at her calf.

lynn groans as she takes his hand, pressing his fingers against her cloth covered center. "here, harry."

"poor, baby," harry murmurs against the crook of her neck. his finger is only gently running against the dampness of her underwear. enough to make her whine, but not enough to give her much relief. "got yourself all worked up over what? little old me?"

"you're ridicu-" a moan from deep in her chest cuts her off when harry thumbs at her clit. she’s looking at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest. he’s not sure if she didn’t expect him to actually touch her, or if she wasn’t expecting to sound so loud.

"here's what i think," he’s only looking at her, his hand back to barely touching her. "you like to act all tough, but it's quite the opposite, really. my sweet honey just needs someone to take care of her, doesn’t she?"

"y-yes.”

he adds a little bit of pressure. a treat for giving him what he wanted. "wanna hear you say it.”

lynn doesn’t answer, and harry tsks before pulling away from her. “nothing? what a shame?”

"i need someone to take care of me," she rushes out like she was so desperate for his touch to be back on her. and what kind of man would harry be if he didn’t listen?

"who?" he pushes further. she's looking at him with furrowed brows. "who do you need to take care of you? to make it all better?"

"you," she cries, her voice broken and needy. "need you to make it better. please, harry.”

"there you go," he praises her with a few kisses to her face. "c’mere, baby."

he tugs her hand so she’s seated in between his legs with her back pressed to his chest. she spreads her legs over his when he nudges her with his knee, and then his fingers find the hem on the pretty blue dress to bunch it at her waist.

"being so good f'me," he kisses her neck while he lets his fingers travel over the plush flesh of her tummy. sure, he felt her like this every night, but this was different. "don't wanna do anything you don't want to, okay? just have to tell me if you want to stop."

"okay," she rushes out. "just... please."

"such good manners," he murmurs against her skin. "think you deserve a little reward."

harry wishes he could forever hear the sound she made when he first dipped his fingers in the front of her underwear. he never imagined her to be so noisy, so loud, but with each stroke of his fingers came whines and moans and whimpers so filthy, they would make the devil look away.

his hand is cramping against the restricting fabric, so he pushes her ruined underwear down her legs, leaving her to kick them the rest of the way off, before moving her hand to the back of her thigh and instructing her to hold herself open for him.

“you’re so fucking hot when you listen, y’know that?” lynn whines at his words and squirms against him as his fingers slowly make a mess of her, watching the way her arousal strings between his fingers. harry’s breathing stops when he catches the perfect view of her. all spread open and glistening. just for him.

harry’s thumb rubs circles against her clit while the rest of his fingers move all the way down, teasing at her entrance. he never pushes in further than his fingertip before he moves them back up and starts again. he does this until she’s so wet that he knows it has to be dripping down onto the couch, and then he slowly pushes a finger in.

lynn’s head is tilted back against his shoulder, and he sponges kisses to the part of her neck that she has bared to him.

“do you think y’can come from this?” he murmurs against her skin. “i know it’s-”

“yes,” she’s quick to breathe out. “god, yes. you’ve got me so fucking horny right now. i’ll be the easiest you’ve ever had.”

and she’s right. once harry moves his free hand from her waist to her center to give her a bit more stimulation, she’s a goner. her moans and whimpers turn into high pitched whines, and her back arches away from him. he can feel her clenching on his fingers, and all it takes is one more curl and she’s nearly convulsing.

harry’s fingers offer lazy touches until she’s whining and snapping her legs together. his lips press warm, encouraging kisses against her neck and shoulders and really, anywhere they could reach. lynn melts in to him, her face falling in the crook of his neck. little giggles tickle his skin as he pulls her dress down to cover her back up.

“so perfect, evy,” he whispers. he expects another laugh or maybe a bashful shove, but instead she’s quick to stand up and head for the front door. “wait.”

"i- um, sorry i just," she clears her throat, and then. "i need some air."

"lynn-" the door slams, and harry’s left wondering what exactly he did wrong.

✮✮✮

harry: im sorry

harry: i shouldn’t have let myself get so carried away

harry: i don’t know what else to say but i am so sorry.

lynn shuts off her phone and slips it into her pocket before quietly opening up the door to the bedroom. all of their stuff was packed up. only an outfit that she had picked earlier in the day was left on top of her suitcase in a nice neat pile. the huge mess she had made in the bathroom before dinner was all packed up into her toiletry bag, and when she stepped a bit closer, she could see harry stretched out under the covers all the way on the other side of the bed. he was such a gentleman.

she felt so embarrassed when she found herself calling her aunt to let her into her condo. she didn’t mean to run out on harry the way she did, but once everything started to feel a little bit too real, she didn’t know what else to do. what was she supposed to say? i actually haven’t let anyone touch me like that in over half a decade, but yeah, we can call it two friends just helping each other out.

her aunt offered her a shower and a change of clothes and then sat with lynn on the bathroom floor while she cried so hard, she nearly threw up. aunt cece rubbed her back while she dry heaved over the toilet bowl, and then she sat and listened while lynn told her all about their fake arrangement.

“isn’t that pathetic?” lynn had said once she was finished.

aunt cece only sighed, “i think it’s more pathetic that you’re crying this hard over here instead of just telling him how you feel.”

and once aunt cece mentions that she thinks that harry likes her in a way that’s more than just platonic, lynn starts thinking that maybe letting him know about her feelings wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

they’d spend more alone time together once they got home. lynn would probably invite him to the bakery on a sunday where she could show him everything elena had helped her create. she’d send him home with loaves of bread and all of the muffins his heart desires.

maybe he’d let her watch him paint. they could spend sunny afternoons in the park with a picnic and a canvas. she’s only ever been artistic in the kitchen, but she’d definitely try to paint something for harry. it’d probably end up terrible, but he’d keep it. maybe even hang it up in his house. she knows she’d do the same. covering her walls in harry’s art just because they were made from him.

long nights would be spent in between her sheets, where he’d give her the best orgasms she’s ever had in her entire life (just like he did tonight). and then maybe, he’d let her touch him, too.

“he called me evy,” lynn told her aunt. it was the very phrase that had her running, but this time a smile forms on her face when she thinks of it. “i told him about evelyn, but not evy.”

it was a nickname her grandmother had given her. everyone had called the older woman evie, and so she called lynn, evy. she had said she wanted her granddaughter to feel like her own person, and the name stuck.

the first time her dad called her evy after her grandmother's passing lynn cried so hard she threw up in her front yard. it didn't feel right coming from peter, and even when luke wrapped her in all the love he could muster, pressing kisses to her face and promising evy that everything would be okay night after night, it still felt wrong. it was like there was an itch that could only be scratched by her grandma's voice. and now harry's.

“maybe she sent him to you,” her aunt’s fingers smoothed her hair away from her face before kissing her head. “go see him.”

harry looks up from his phone when he hears lynn step into the small room. “i’m so fucking sorry, lynn.”

his voice is raw and scratchy, and the thought of him crying over what she did to him makes her heart break. she climbs into the bed, sitting with her feet underneath her. “you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“but, i-”

“nothing, harry,” she stresses."you didn't do anything wrong. i just... i get in my own head sometimes. i'm sorry i left the way i did."

"it’s okay," he rolls over so he's facing her. his hand covers hers. "you can talk to me when you feel like that, lynn."

"the guy i dated before my last, he was," she clears her throat. "he was a friend. well, he is a friend and i think..."

she doesn't know how to say what she wants. lynn thinks dating her friend was one of the best decisions she's ever made. that relationship happened nearly a decade ago and she still secretly wishes that she was selfish and asked him to stay when he came to her door.

well, she used to wish. she hasn’t thought about it in a while.

she thinks that maybe her and harry could be like that. or they could try to be like that. they were friends. they knew each other and she was comfortable with him. comfortable enough to let his hand go up her dress. her cheeks warm at the thought.

she'll tell him that being with luke ruined their friendship and she was never close with him again. lynn never really minded the way luke slipped so easily from her life, but she’s terrified that the same would happen with harry. she really likes having him around.

she’s going to tell him regardless, and perhaps she’ll make him promise that trying wouldn’t ruin anything. that if their relationship went south, they’d still have their friendship to fall back on.

"i think that, um," she closes her eyes and harry squeezes her hand. “um, well-”

"it's okay. i'm still hung up on my ex, too. what happened between us doesn't have to mean anything."

oh.

"okay," she breathes, trying to make sure she didn’t look as devastated as she fucking felt. "good. that’s what i was going to say."

harry sighs, "i haven't been able to stop thinking about him recently, if i'm being honest."

shut up! shut up! shut up! shut up!

"why don't you tell me about him?" she gets under all of the covers, an excuse to pull herself away from him. "since you know about mine."

lynn doesn’t really know why she asks, but she did. so, she listens to harry talk about his stupid ex named oliver with a huge smile on her face. like she could not be more elated to be hearing about how much he loves him if she tried. lynn wipes his tears when he talks about how mean he was to the boy when they were in high school, and even holds his hand when he hiccups about how much he misses him.

“you should reach out to him,” she says, letting her fingers card through his hair.

“you think so?” harry sniffs.

“yeah,” lynn hums. “it might be good for both of you.”

when lynn mentions it, she doesn’t expect him to do it right then and there, but he does. he pulls out facebook messenger, and she has to pretend not to notice the way that oliver jones was the only saved search.

maybe they’ll meet up, oliver will want nothing to do with him. harry will have a cleared conscious and he'll come back to lynn. she’ll go to therapy as soon as the plane’s wheels touch down in westchester, so when he ultimately comes knocking at her door, she’ll be better. good for him. yeah, she thinks. that will totally happen.

she clings on to whatever little sliver of hope she had left because that stupid scenario was the only thing keeping her from bursting in to tears.

when lynn looks over at harry, he’s tapping away on his phone screen. the dim light illuminates his face, and she decides if that moment were to ever come around, she’d be selfish. just that once.

✰✰✰✰

a/n: this felt like sooo much information but! part six sooon (hopefully by the end of next week)

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lainiespicewrites · 3 months

Text

Electric Summer Ch 4

I’m sorry this took me so long! But I finally finished my math class and had the time to write!

Summary Big day with the campers big day for Sy and Lainie, and a hurt camper 😭

Let me know what you think comments and reblogs always welcome!!

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

My morning starts with a shake. I open my eyes slowly to find Emma standing next to my bunk. Her little hand gently rocked my shoulder. “Emma? You okay?” my voice groggy as I leaned up on my elbows. She nodded

“Yeah, sorry,” she whispered. “ I just wanted to tell you I’m heading to the showers in case you woke up and I was gone. I didn’t want you to worry.” I nodded fully sitting up in my bunk reaching to check my phone. It was 6:27 my alarm would be going off soon anyway.

“Go ahead,” I told her. “I’ll be heading that way myself soon. Thank you for telling me.” I kept my voice quiet. I wouldn’t start to get everyone else up until I got back. She smiled and left the cabin walking off toward the bathrooms. I’m so glad that I was with the older kids. I wouldn’t have any issue escorting them around or making sure everyone had a buddy to go with. But it was nicer just having an honor system and giving them their freedom.

Standing from the bunk I stretched pulling my bag from the Bunk above me. None of the girls decided to sleep up there so I used it for storage. I grabbed my shower bag. I grabbed another pair of shorts. It was going to be a chilly morning because of the rain so I searched for a sweatshirt and found an old highschool sports hoodie. There was a light earthy smell outside of the cabin. The storm last night made everything damp. The sky was just becoming light. To the west it was a dusty blue and to the east where the sun was rising there were beautiful orange hues. There were a few showers running creating a soft white noise to the background of my morning. I let the water wake me and gave myself a fresh start for the day ahead. When I got back to the cabin 2 more of the girls were starting to get themselves around. Taylor was just heading out as I was coming in and Ryleigh was just standing out of her bunk.

“Good morning,” I spoke softly and smiled. My towl was still wrapped around my head. She gave me a tired smiled and mumbled back a sleepy

“Morning,” I watched her for a moment as she rooted through her bag finding what she was looking for. I straightened up my bed quickly before I sat down criss-cross, towel drying my hair and brushing it out.

“There’s plenty of showers open if you’re headed that way!” I told her. She nodded.

“I was gonna go for a walk first if that’s okay? She asked.

I checked my phone, it was 6:45 “Breakfast is in a little over an hour, so just be back before then okay?” I smiled. She nodded and thanked me before throwing on a sweatshirt and some sneakers. She walked past me and I heard the cabin door slam.

I smiled to myself as I pulled out my notebook looking over our schedule for the day. Today was going to be really fun! The “Leaders” groups, Aka the high school aged kids, had a huge scavenger hunt set up all across camp. During the storm last night while Sy and I were talking with some of our fellow counselors we decided to make it a battle between all the individual cabins instead of our “family” cabins. Which meant we were in competition with the boys. Anything that ended up being a battle of the sexes was always a blast! We always seemed to play harder, but there were never any hard feelings. Although the boys were much more likely to be sore losers. And far more likely to rub it in if they won. We hadn’t told our campers yet. But they were going to love this.

I had the inside door slightly propped open and the windows were up so there was a slight breeze coming in through the screens. Off in the distance I heard a voice that was unmistakably Sy.

“Come on Ethan don’t give up on me already man!” He called. I had no idea what they were doing, surely they weren’t already up to no good before 7am. I let some more time pass as a the rest of the girls got up and got ready for the day. Well almost all of them.

“Nicole.” I said softly shaking her arm, standing on my toes to reach the top bunk. She groaned.

“5 more minutes.” She grumbled. I chuckled to myself. This was the third time I’d tried to wake her.

“Come on sweetheart, you told me yesterday you wanted to be up by 7 its 7:25,” I said gently. I wasn’t necessarily a morning person myself. I understood where she was coming from.

“Well why did it have to come so early,” she sighed throwing her pillow over her head.

“It’s just the way the world works girly. Trust me when I was a camper I hated it too.” I giggled. “But I promise if you get up and get ready there will be coffee at breakfast.” I smiled. That got her attention. She sat up slowly. Her messy hair falling into her eyes.

“Ugh fine,” she said. “But none of the boys better say anything stupid, I’m not responsible for anything that comes out of my mouth before at least 9am!” I chuckled softly.

“Understood.” I said. And left her to get ready for the day. A few minutes before we needed to head over I had the girls meet me outside just to make sure everyone was accounted for. Of course Nicole was my last one out. I smiled to myself. When I saw the boys walking over to join us. A couple of the boys hunched over walking slowly with their hands holding their sides. When they stopped in front of our cabin Ethan dramatically “fell” and laid on the grass

“Morning ladies!” Sy smiled.

“Good morning!” I smiled back. And a few of the girls greeted them as well. “What’d you do to those poor boys?” I laughed.

“Nothing they didn’t ask for.” He chuckled.

“It was torture!” Ethan groaned lifting his head up to look at me from the ground. Beckett looked down at him shaking his head.

“Bro we just went on a run.” Beckett smirked.

“Exactly torture!” he groaned. Sy shook his head.

“You didn’t have to go bud, you coulda slept in,” he chuckled. Ethan sighed dramatically and took the hand Beckett offered him to help him stand.

“Can we go to breakfast now? We get it Ethan you don’t run, I want coffee!” Nicole said playfully pushing past him and walking toward the cafeteria.

“Good morning Nikki,” He called after her a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Shut up,” She bit back without turning around. To be fair she had warned me. I just shook my head holding in a laugh. Sy raised an eye brow and I just smiled as we all started to head in that direction.

“She’s…not a morning person.” I said answering the question hadn’t asked.

“I see that,” He chuckled “Everything go okay for you girls after the storm last night? I uh, I kept thinking about ya,” He smiled. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. Truth be told he was all I was thinking about every second my brain had the free time to wander. I tossed and turned for a while last night trying to shake the giddiness so I could just fall asleep. Being here with him. The way he’d kissed me last night. I felt like I was a teenager again. But with the girls around I had to play it cool. I had to be the remember I was the adult here. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Finally I nodded.

“Yeah the girls were fine, I think I was more shaken up then they were. Everything went pretty smooth this morning!” I said. “I didn’t know you were taking the boys on a run, how’d that go?” I asked. He laughed, keeping an eye on the campers that were now all ahead of us.

“It was good, I like to go for a morning run, so I asked the boys if they wanted to come with, I told them they could tell whoever they wanted to come with us. Couple boys from Tanners cabin showed up. They mostly enjoyed it. Ethan… just likes the attention he gets from putting on a show. Seems to be a good kid though.” He smiled. We walked in silence the rest of the short walk to the building where they served breakfast. There was a deck that came off the back of the building and overlooked the playground. I felt Sy’s hand on my back as we started walking up the steps. I bit my lip softly, embarrassed that such a little touch made me feel so much.

It was something he always did. He wanted to make sure I didn’t fall. Because I did once. When we were younger. It had rained that moring and the steps were slippery. I fell up the steps in front of everyone. My face had gotten so red. I remember being so embarrassed about it. Logan immediately ran over and helped me up. He said something to make me laugh to make me forget about it.

And ever since then he always did the small gesture as support. I didn’t think he’d remembered. But they do say old habits die hard. We caught up with our campers and joined them at our table. Nicole had already managed to get some coffee.

“Aw it’s our first breakfast as a family,” Emma said smiling at the two of us as we sat with them.

“Em don’t make breakfast weird!” Her brother called from across table.

“I’m not the cabins are literally called family groups! You’re the one that makes everything weird!” She argued. These two were hilarious. I found out very quickly, even just having been here a day, it’s best to just let them have their little twin spats. It’s usually over pretty quick.

“How was you’re walk this morning Ryleigh?” I heard Beckett ask as he slid into the seat across from her setting his plate down. She startled a moment not expecting someone to be infront of her and then realized what he’d said.

“Oh, it was good thanks,” She smiled shyly. “How, uh how was your run?” she asked him.

“It was nothing, I’m used to way more than that with football practice.” He shrugged. “You should come run with us next time,” He smiled. She blushed looking down at her pancakes.

“I don’t really run,” she responded.

I looked over at Logan who was grinning at me. He’d heard them too. I raised an eyebrow.

“Did I miss something?” I asked him. He just shook his head and chuckled.

After breakfast the kids had a bit of time to themselves before we started any activities. All of the cabins were supposed to meet on the field next to the park in about an hour or so. A few of the girls went back to the cabin to get the supplies to make friendship bracelets. And some of the other campers had a game of four square going.

Since most of ours were spread out around the park playing games, sitting on the grass talking, or making crafts I decided to sit on the old swings and journal. I didn’t have to watch so closely but I felt better keeping an eye on them. Ryleigh has still been pretty quiet and a couple of my other girls have taken some time to warm up and come out of their shell. I wanted to be close incase they wanted someone to talk to or just to sit with.

The last time I’d looked up Logan had joined the four square game and had worked his way up to the king square. I watched for a minute before I started writing. It wasn’t long before I got lost in my writing and everything in the background turned into white noise. Some time had passed I’m not sure how much but when I looked up again Sy was walking in my direction with a soft smile on his face.

“Hey darlin,” He said as he sat next to me.

“Hi!” I said cheerfully. “They finally kicked you out for being too old?” I teased. He gave me a slight pout before he snickered.

“No, I left the game because I kept winning.” He grinned proudly.

“Mhmm,” I mused. We sat like that for a moment sy had one arm on the back of the swing and he was rocking us slowly rolling his heel.

“Dad!” one of his boys called from across the lawn. Sy perked up and chuckled at the name before he responded.

“What’s up Zach?” He asked.

“When do we have to meet for the scavenger hunt thing?” He asked, still calling from across the park.

“11!” Sy called back checking his watch “You got a little over an hour,” He told him. Zach gave him a thumbs up and it was clear they were starting another game.

I couldn’t help the laugh that came out,

“Dad,huh? When did that start?” I raised an eyebrow. His chest shook with laughter.

“Last night when I got ‘em all corralled back into the cabin, I think Ethan started it and now they’re all doin’ it.” He shook his head. I giggled softly and we fell back into a comfortable silence. It was cute the boys seeing him as a father figure. I’m surprised the girls haven’t started calling me mom yet. I remember doing it when we were here too. It’s what gave this place that sense of home away from home. I liked that Idea. The kids calling us Mom and Dad. Like Sy and I were husband and wife…I blushed. I felt Sy’s eyes on me and my blush deepened. “You wanna go for a little walk with me? Get away for a second?” He asked.

I looked over at all of our campers. They were all preoccupied. All of them intermingled with kids from other cabins. Another group's counselors were sitting in old rocking chairs on the deck chatting. It’s not like we had to be watching over them at every second. They were old enough to know to come get us if something was urgent. Finally I looked back at him and nodded. “Okay,” I answered. I put my journal back in my backpack and slid it on as we started to walk.

“Ethan!” Sy called as we walked past. The boy's head snapped in our direction hearing his name, eyes wide like he was afraid he was in trouble. Sy chuckled and I watched Ethans shoulders relax a little. “Lainie and I are gonna be walking the trail, if you guys need anything you can come find us! I’m trusting you to let the others know .. that includes the girls.” He told him. Ethan nodded and gave him a big smile.

“You got it Dad! I won’t let you down!” He said. I shook my head as we kept walking.

“They adore you!” I laughed.

“Yeah well, I know how to have a good time!,” He smirked. Playfully nudging my shoulder with his. I blushed and pulled my sunglasses down to hide my eyes.

“Don’t I know it!” I replied, trying to keep up. This man was going to be the death of me. He looked over at me for a moment as we crossed the lawn between the cabins and kept going past them. That smirk still plastered on his face.

“You don’t yet Darlin, but you will,” he answered. I didn’t think my face could get any hotter. I looked around to make sure no one had heard our conversation.

“Good lord Logan, you trying to get us into trouble?” I whispered and smacked him playfully on the arm.

“I’m teasin’ baby,” He chuckled. “But we sure as hell wouldn’t be the first ones around here to sneak off and have a little fun.” He wiggled his eyebrows and I snorted.

“Yeah I know! You don’t have to remind me about the Cait and Josh situation. I can’t believe you helped him with that!” Back when we were campers Cait and Josh were friends of ours. They dated over the summer. They’d “break up” and then get back together every summer. It was such a mess. Josh was such a player and Cait knew it but she didn’t care.

One afternoon we were all off on our own. I was hanging out at the park and noticed Logan and one of their other bunkmates “Standing guard in front of the entrance underneath the big pirate ship on the playground. I was super confused because the guys were usually off playing some sort of sport or something. Sy caught my eye and I raised an eyebrow. He just shook his head with that signature smirk on his lips. But then they moved and Cait came crawling out, her hair was a mess. At first I was more confused, then Josh came crawling out behind her. That stupid satisfied grin on his face. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at them. And then ignored Logan the rest of the day. Just because. Of course we made up the next day, but I was annoyed with him for doing it.

Logan chuckled, pulling me back from the memory. “I was stupid teenage boy back then, you can’t hold that against me. When my buddy had an opportunity to get some, I wasn’t gonna stand in his way!” He stated. I rolled my eyes.

“You boys can be real pigs sometimes, you know it?” I said. We finally made it to the trail walking in the woods. The sun peeking down through the trees. It was so pretty but perfectly secluded when you needed it to be.

“I know, but I’ve never been anything short of a gentleman with you Darlin.” He argued.

“Oh so you throwing me in the lake the other day was an act of chivalry?” I questioned.

“You looked hot, thought you might wanna cool off.” He smirked.

“I think you were just being a dick.” I retorted.

“Mmm” He hummed still smirking and grabbed my hand leading me off the trail. “You're a lot feistier than I remember,” he challenged. He stopped and slowly walked me backwards until my back was pressed against the nearest tree. I bit my lip softly trying to keep my composure. I wasn’t going to let him win so easily.

“Yeah, What's so wrong with that?” I raised an eyebrow. He shook his head staring down at me, his eyes flickering to my lips before meeting mine again.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with it baby, just making it even harder for me to keep my hands off you.” I let out a shaky breath. Okay so maybe I would fold that easy. Shit that was smoothe. “The way you kissed me last night Darlin’” He paused, eyeing me hungrily. “I’m not so convinced you want me to.” He drawled. My breath hitched. I felt jittery all over. He had one hand next to my head leaning against the tree pinning me in place without even touching me. I swallowed hard.

“We should get back, the campers might…need us.” I said nervously. It was a lame excuse. Especially because I’d just convinced myself they’d be fine. But suddenly all the attention he was giving me felt like too much. His eyes softened and his smirk faded into a gentle smile. He brought his hand up caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“They’re big kids honey, they’re okay, tell me what’s really on your mind.” he cooed.

I took in a deep breath taking a small step away from the tree and resting my forehead against his broad chest.

“I’m scared.” I admitted. That’s the one thing I hated most about myself. People told me all the time I was confident and so brave. But I didn’t see how. I was so afraid all the time. So scared of everything. Scared of the dark, scared of falling, of getting hurt, of falling in love with a man just for him to leave. A lot of people have left. I guess that’s life, we grow up and we grow apart. But I don’t want to be left stranded with a broken heart. I’m scared that he’ll get hurt. What if I disappoint him and after all this time I’m not the girl he waited 7 years just to kiss. I don’t want to feel so damn scared. The thing is back then, when I was with Sy, all of that fear went away. And he’s proved all over again that he still knows how to fight my fears with me. But right now being with him is causing them just as much as it is fighting them. I feel like I’m stuck on an upside down roller coaster and there’s no ride operator to stop this thing.

“What for,” he asked, his fingers brushing through my hair, pulling me back from my emotional spiral.

I stood up straight and looked into his eyes. “Because I want to be with you so bad it physically hurts. In two days you’ve managed to make me feel more for you than I did all those years ago. But what happens after this? It’s no different than back then. What happens when summer’s over and we go our separate ways? I can’t do just another summer fling with you Logan. I fully intended to move on this whole time but against my own will I still waited for you! Like somehow I knew we’d come back to each other. But I can’t accept fate if you’re just gonna let me fall again.” I hiccupped through a silent sob.

Sy grabbed my face in both hands staring down at me intently.

“I never knew I hurt you so bad baby,” He said softly, swiping away my tears with his thumb. There he was using that word again. Claiming me as his before I have the chance to run myself.

“Y-you didn’t…it’s just…” I trailed off, my eyes shifting to the ground.

“Lainie Look at me,” hearing him say my name with such intensity broke my heart. I met his eyes again and I could see how much it had hurt him to know that I had been so sad all this time. “There isn’t a demon in hell that could keep me away from you. I’m not leavin’ you. I don’t know what I'm gonna be doin’ at the end of this summer, but I do know wherever I go it won’t be far from you. I’m not asking you to give yourself to me Darlin’ not if you ain’t ready. But just let me show you I never stopped wanting you.” His eyes were pleading and I would do anything I could to heal the hurt in his eyes right now. I nodded. Still holding my face he leaned down and crushed his lips to mine. I let out an involuntary whimper as I clutched his t-shirt pulling him closer.

The force of his kiss pushed me back against the tree. I felt his tongue push against my bottom lip and let him in lazily swiping my tongue against his. The taste so undeniably Sy. He let go of my face and held my waist against the tree and then pulled my bottom lip between his teeth. He groaned into my mouth as I ran my hands down his chest. And under his shirt desperate to feel his skin. I loved the way the soft hairs of his stomach and his chest felt under my fingertips. He pulled back from my lips and started trailing kisses across my jaw and down my neck. I moaned softly as I felt his teeth graze my neck soothing it with his tongue. If it weren’t for Sy holding me up I’d have melted into the ground by now. I needed to feel his lips on mine again. I took his face in my hands pulling him back to me. Meeting him in another heated kiss. I whined when he abruptly pulled away pouting softly. He chuckled but put a finger to his lips keeping me quiet.

In the distance down the trail I could faintly hear voices.

“Easy Darlin,” He smiled. “Sounds like one of our kiddos,” He spoke in a soft whisper. I strained to listen and he was right. It was very obviously Nicole… and

“Man I hope they aren’t far,” Ethan’s voice said from a few feet down the trail.

I looked up at Sy and he nodded grabbing my hand leading me back onto the trail.. We both came to the same conclusion, they were looking or us. And it sounded like they need help.

“Hey you two,” Sy said softly as we met up with them around a bend in the trees. Nicole’s eye’s went wide and she let out and exasperated breath.

“Ryleigh’s hurt!” she blurted out without explanation.

“What happened?” I asked them quickly.

“She and beckett were playing football and he was like teaching her how to throw and stuff and she tripped running to catch the ball.” Ethan answered.

“I think her ankle’s broken it’s like really bad!” Nicole added panicked. Sy took the lead running back on the trail having Ethan lead him back to Ryleigh and the others and Nicole and I jogged behind. She started to tear up a bit. “I’m sorry Lainie,” she sniffled. “I swear we were being good while you guys were gone we all wanted to give you two time together and.. We messed up,” I stopped her there. I laid my hand on her shoulder giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Nicole it’s okay, This is what we’re here for, you did the right thing coming to get us sweetheart.” she assured her.

“Is Ryleigh gonna be okay?” She asked. I nodded and gave her a gentle smile.

“We’ll make sure of it! Come on!” Nicole and I joined the others and Sy was already kneeling next to Ryleigh’s assessing the injury. Becca was there too, She must’ve been close by when it happened. I could see the tears streaming down Ryleigh’s face. The poor girl was in a lot of pain.

“It’s not your fault man,” I heard Logan say, Beckett was sitting in the grass next to her his hand on her shoulder the other nervously raking through his hair. Becca looked up at me when I approached.

“Do you think you two can get her too the nurse? I’ll stay here with your campers, and check in with everyone.” We both nodded.

“Can I come with?” Beckett asked. “I feel so bad,” He admitted. We looked to rebecca and she gave us a nod.

“It’s not your fault Beck” Ryleigh sniffled.Sy stood assessing the situation for a moment.

“Can you stand at all Darlin?” He asked her. She tried but immediately let out a whimper holding in her cry of pain.

“It’s okay hun,” I told her

“I’m gonna carry you, is that okay?” Logan asked. She nodded and he scooped her up off the ground and the three of us quickly started to walk to the nurses station. It was likely she would have to go to the hospital but we’d have to let the nurse asses it first.

“It’s nice of you to come keep her company.” I said giving Beckett a reassuring smile. He looked at me nervously and nodded. “Beckett,” I said softly. “It was an accident, you play football right, you see this stuff happen on the field all the time. She’s gonna be alright. She might hurt for a little bit but she’ll heal!” I said. He smiled a little and nodded.

“Thanks Lainie.”

At the nurses station they told us exactly what we had expected. They didn’t have an xray machine or anything so best they could tell was it was severely sprained and she’d need to go to the hospital to get it x-rayed to see if anything was broken. We called it in over our radio to Becca. She had to call Ryleigh’s parents to let them know and then she’d be there to wait for the ambulance to come take her. We checked with her to make sure if it was alright that we left her and Beckett alone to wait. She agreed that it’d be fine. Once we assured them again just to sit tight and everything would be okay we headed back to the rest of our campers.

“You okay?” Sy asked as we walked back. I let out a shaky breath.

“A little shaken up but I’ll be alright. You were great back there! I Couldn’t have done it without you,” I smiled. He put his hand on my my shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze and kissed my forehead.

“You did just fine darlin.” he smiled.

When we got back to the kids I noticed all the other family groups gathering on the field. The scavenger hunt I’d almost forgotten. We called all our kids together and had a group meeting.

“Okay, I know today has been kind of hectic,” I started. “But we’re gonna keep moving forward. And have a fun day!”

“Boys,” Sy said. “Todays all about competition and we’re gonna take the girls down!”

“Ladies, Sy’s an idiot and has no idea what he’s talking about! We’ve got this!”

It was time after our crazy chaotic stressful moring it was finally time for the fun to begin.

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

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