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runnning-outof-time · 9 months

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The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader

Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.

Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting

Word Count: 4350

A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.

"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.

"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.

"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.

"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"

"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.

"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."

"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.

"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."

"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.

"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.

"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.

"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.

"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.

"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.

Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"

"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"

"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.

John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.

"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.

"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"

"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.

"I'm looking to donate to the children."

"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.

He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.

"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.

"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."

"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.

"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.

"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.

"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."

"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.

"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.

"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.

"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.

Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.

(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.

"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.

"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.

John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.

To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.

"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.

"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.

John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.

Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."

Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.

"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.

"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.

"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.

Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.

"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.

"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.

"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.

John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.

"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.

"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.

"The school?" Arthur questioned.

"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.

"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.

"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.

"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.

John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."

"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.

John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.

"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.

"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.

"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.

"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.

"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.

"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.

"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.

Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.

Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.

"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."

"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."

"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.

"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."

"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."

Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.

(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.

(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.

Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.

"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.

"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.

"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.

"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.

She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.

"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.

"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.

"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.

"I'm rather terrible at dancing."

"You've not seen me dance then."

(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.

"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.

They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.

(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.

"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.

"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.

"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.

"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.

(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.

"Figured we could get to know each other better."

"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.

The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.

As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.

-One Year Later-

Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.

Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.

Well...two of the guests were exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).

Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."

Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.

No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

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gojoluvs · 22 days

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Forever yours.

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo,

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message also sorry for the spelling errors I didn’t have time to edit :c

9.5k words

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Feeling the warmth of the sun peek through the window, you awoke with a sense of longing.

Feeling the bed empty, you just sighed, realizing that Satoru was nowhere to be found and here you were, laying down on your honeymoon bed. Closing your eyes, all you could do was imagine how you used to wake up next to Toji, and how happy he looked to see you awake. You remembered how he used to caress you after you shared your good morning kiss, and tears began to well up in your eyes as you longed for those moments once again. But you also knew that those memories were in the past and that you had moved on.

"No, I swear to you," you could hear Satoru arguing with someone.

His voice was filled with frustration and desperation, as if he was trying to convince the person of something very important. His words were muffled, but his tone was unmistakable – he was pleading with them to believe him. Despite not knowing the context of the conversation, it was clear that Satoru was in a heated argument.

Confused, you got out of bed feeling a bit sore from last night's activities. As Satoru clenched his phone, you noticed him heading outside to talk to someone. You couldn't help but wonder who he was arguing with and what it could possibly be about.

As Gojo's friend spoke on the phone, he seemed to grow more and more agitated. "Listen Geto, please keep her distracted for now. I know how she gets when I'm out of town," he commanded, clearly worried about something.

"Don't worry, I've got it covered," replied Geto, Gojo's trusted friend and partner in crime. "I'll make sure to keep her entertained and away from her phone." Geto knew that Gojo's girlfriend was prone to constantly checking her phone, so he made a mental note to keep her busy with activities and conversations.

Noticing your presence, he began walking towards you, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Listen, I got to go. Just please do what I tell you," he pleaded before hanging up and letting out a heavy sigh.

"Who was that?" You questioned, watching as he walked past you and into the door. Rolling his eyes, you followed him inside. As he walked towards his desk, he replied, "Just another annoying colleague." You couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so irritated by this person's presence.

Right, you almost forgot that this man hated your guts. It was clear that he didn't want to be anything more than acquaintances, let alone friends. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

"We have a long day today, so wear your best outfit because I'm taking you out." Walking into the restroom, he closed the door.

As you stood there in awe, you couldn't help but wonder why he was suddenly taking you out. Did he have important business associates in town? Or was he trying to impress someone by showing off his new wife? The possibilities swirled through your mind as you anxiously waited for him to reveal the reason behind this unexpected outing.

Walking back outside you grabbed your phone hoping you could take a picture of the sunset and post it later. Despite not being as famous and recognized as Satoru you did have a hefty amount of followers.

You quickly snapped a picture before heading back inside. Your heart dropped when you saw a notification, "Toji zen'in added to their story." Biting your lip, you clicked on the notification, taking you to his story. Your heart broke as you saw a photo of him and another woman.

To make matters worse, there was small writing in the photo that said, "Happy birthday to one of my greatest friends ever." It was clear that Toji was hanging out with other women now.

All you could do was feel disappointed that you were no longer in his life. Toji was your first love, your first best friend and your first everything. Letting him go now was possibly the worst thing you could ever do. With a longing sigh you walked back inside the house, deciding what you were going to wear for later.

As you stood in your closet, staring at your clothes, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. Toji was the one who always helped you pick out your outfits and now he was gone. You never thought you would have to make these decisions alone again. With a heavy heart, you chose an outfit and got ready for the evening ahead, trying your best to push away the thoughts of Toji and the pain that accompanied them.

"You would look better if you wore white, compliments your face." he said, snapping you back to reality. Raising an eyebrow, you couldn't help but question his statement.

"Does it really compliment my face more?" you asked, slightly skeptical. He simply shrugged in response, leaving you to ponder if his opinion was genuine or just a ploy to get you to wear white.

You could see his tall figure leaning on the door frame. He had some black pants on but his hair was still wet. As you tried to turn away, you couldn't help but feel flustered at the sight of his bare chest. Quickly turning back around to change, you tried to push the thoughts out of your head.

Before you knew it, you were already inside a Rolls Royce that Satoru had rented. You were in the front seat, watching the clouds slowly move as you thought about your new life back home. You used to work for Toji's company, but now that you had split up with him, you had to figure out your next move.

Would you stay in the same industry or try something completely new? It was a daunting thought, but you were excited for the possibilities that lay ahead.

As you stared at the ground, lost in thoughts, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. If only you had followed through with your feelings for Toji, maybe you would have a different life now. But instead, you chose to marry Satoru, hoping for a better future. Yet here you were, still struggling and hoping for a job from your husband's family.

And as you thought about Satoru and his lover, you couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't taken the next step in their relationship after dating for so long. Perhaps things would have been different if you hadn't married him. But it was too late for what-ifs, as you were now stuck in a bittersweet limbo, unsure of what the future held for you.

The constant thoughts and questions about why your father chose the Gojo family continued to linger in your mind. You couldn't understand why he would choose them over all the other families in the neighborhood.

You couldn't recall ever being close to the Gojos, especially Satoru, who seemed to ignore you most of the time. The only time he ever showed any kindness towards you was when he gave you his umbrella on a rainy day in high school. But even then, you could sense his disdain towards you. You couldn't help but wonder why he never showed any interest in you, even though you knew you were not the most attractive girl, you were sure you were still worthy of someone's attention.

You still remembered the day your family got invited to one of their annual big parties. You had no friends there, only Satoru. Despite feeling like a lost puppy, you followed him around until he suddenly turned on you. He told you to leave him alone and that he didn't want to be associated with someone like you. To this day, you are still confused as to what you did wrong to get on his bad side.

"We're going to be meeting some of my friends who stay by here so please, be at your best." nodding your head all you could do was keep your head low.

You just wanted to go home. forget about this whole stupid marriage. However, as you follow along to meet your soon-to-be spouse's friends, you can't help but feel a sense of dread and sadness. You know that you're only going through with this marriage for the sake of your family's business and reputation, and not because of love.

Your heart aches as you remember your true love, who you had to leave behind for this arrangement. You can only hope that your true love is happy and that someday you can be together again.

You might've been married to Satoru but your heart only belonged to one man. The man who helped you throughout everything. He was your confidant, your best friend, and your soulmate. The one who knew you better than anyone else and loved you unconditionally.

Despite your marriage to Satoru, your heart never wavered and remained devoted to this man who had been there for you through thick and thin. No matter what obstacles you faced, he was always by your side, providing unwavering support and love. He was the true love of your life, and no amount of time or distance could ever change that.

Hopefully Toji would wait for you, because you knew deep down you wanted only him. This marriage meant absolutely nothing to you and you were going to keep it like that. You couldn't risk losing your true feelings for Satoru, no matter how strong they were, and you were determined to keep them buried deep inside.

You couldn't let yourself fall for him, because if you did, you were afraid of what might happen and how it would affect your life.

As you sat in the passenger seat, watching as the car passed by the city of Santorini, you couldn't shake off the feeling of anxiety. Meeting his friends for some reason made you feel scared and uncertain. Did they know that this marriage was fake? Did they believe his lies? You couldn't help but wonder what would happen if the truth came out.

You knew your sole purpose in this arranged marriage was to give birth to an heir to their company. You always wanted kids but you wanted to have them with the man you loved. However, you were forced into this marriage and knew that you couldn't do anything about it. Your heart broke knowing that you would never have the opportunity to have children with the person you truly loved.

Despite the challenges, you were determined to give this child the best life possible. You knew that their parents may not have loved each other, but you were committed to making sure their upbringing was not affected by it. You were determined to provide a loving and nurturing environment for them, and you were ready to face any obstacles that may come your way.

feeling the car arubtly stopped you raised your head. Seeing a beautiful beach house in front of you. Satoru rolled down the window pressing the small button to talk in the intercom in the gate.

"Its Satoru Gojo, im here for the party." he said. Greeting the guard and gave his name, waiting for the gate to open. As the car slowly made its way up the winding driveway, you couldn't help but admire the stunning architecture of the beach house.

The sleek design, the ocean view, and the lush landscaping all added to the allure of this luxurious property. You couldn't wait to explore and relax in this beautiful setting.

You quickly grabbed your purse and headed out to the car. As you closed the door behind you, the wind gushed and blew your hair gently. The chilly atmosphere sent shivers down your spine. Suddenly, you felt Satoru's arms wrap around your waist as he led you towards the entrance of the house.

Before you entered inside he stopped you, "wait, take out your phone and take a picture of us together. post it later." he said. Nodding you grabbed your phone out of your purse. Leaning your head towards satoru, you smiled.

Before you could even protest, he snatched your phone and stuffed it into his pocket. "You won't be needing this today. I'm keeping it until later," he stated sternly, giving you a piercing look.

The door opened and you were greeted with a tall man with blonde hair. "Satoru, nice to see you." He said hugging him before landing his gaze at you. "I see you brought a guest, i'll tell shoko." he said smiling at you before motioning to come inside.

The man, whom Satoru introduced as his friend Kento Nanami, smiled brightly at you. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said with a warm handshake. His blonde hair was neatly styled, and his tall frame exuded confidence.

The man's words were barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves. He gestured towards the door leading to the back, which opened up to a stunning view of the beach.

"Everyone's outside if you'd like to follow me," he repeated, beckoning the others to join him. "And feel free to come by anytime, the beach is always open for our guests." With a smile, he stepped outside.

There was a pleasant atmosphere, with everyone dressed in bright summery colors. Soft classical music played in the background, while the sound of people chatting filled the air.

The house was undoubtedly expensive, but its breathtaking view of the beach made it worth every penny. Its grand size and stunning surroundings left you feeling awestruck.

"Is that who I think it is?" said a woman with long brown hair, her slight eye bags only adding to her undeniable beauty. She seemed to be in deep thought, her gaze fixed on the figure walking towards her. As they got closer, she couldn't believe her eyes - it was her childhood best friend who she hadn't seen in years.

"Shoko," Satoru smiled before embracing the woman. "How have you been? It's been a while since we last saw each other."

Shoko smiled warmly and replied, "I've been good, thank you. How about you?"

"I've been good as well," he said, introducing you to his friend. As you shook her hand, you couldn't help but notice the warmth in her smile. "And this is my wife, Y/N," he continued.

"I see geto has been putting in the work," he said, placing a hand on the baby bump she had.

"Don't say that... It was unexpected, but yes, Geto is the father." She smiled, placing her hand over his. "I never thought I would be doing this with him, but I couldn't be happier." They both looked down at the baby bump.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal at the mention of a baby, especially when Satoru had touched her belly with such adoration. It was a harsh reminder that he only wanted you for a child, nothing more. You looked at her with a mixture of sadness and longing, unable to find the words to express your feelings.

Satoru was casually talking to shoko, making comments about her pregnancy and how happy he was for her and geto. You stood there baffled that he had the audacity to act so kindly to them but never to you. Deep down you wondered how he'd be if you'd never married him.

Despite the amount of people at the party, you couldn't shake the feeling of shame and regret for being there. The sight of the other woman, who was most likely his true love, only added to your feelings of inadequacy.

You couldn't help but think that he never truly loved you, and never will, because of the arranged marriage your father forced upon you. You didn't want to show your tears in public, so you silently told yourself to "suck it up." But deep down, you couldn't ignore the fact that his lover must have had it worse than you, being in love with a man who only saw her as a pawn in a business deal. You couldn't help but feel envious of her freedom.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment towards Satoru and Shoko. You knew you would have to live with him until you bore a child of his, but the thought of being left again made your heart ache. You longed for true companionship and love, but instead, you were forced to endure a loveless marriage for the sake of bearing an heir. The loneliness and emptiness you felt only grew stronger with each passing day, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly all life had in store for you.

Your silently closed your eyes, letting the smell of the beach fill your nose. Exhaling, trying to recompose yourself after almost crying. You licked your lips before putting on a smile and opening your eyes again. You couldn't help but feel grateful for the peaceful setting of the beach and the calming sound of the waves crashing against the shore. It was the perfect place to gather your thoughts and regain control of your emotions. As you took a deep breath, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that you were able to overcome your emotions and put on a brave face.

You walked towards satoru, your heels clicking with each step. You hooked your arm with his before engaging in the conversation he was having.

"So, will you be the godmother and godfather of my child?" She said scrunching her nose. You were taken aback by her request, unsure if you were ready for such a responsibility. Your husband's hesitant look mirrored your own thoughts. You

You took a deep breath before finally answering, "We would be honored." Shoko's smile widened as she thanked you both, and you couldn't help but feel excited for the journey ahead as godparents to her child.

As he walked away, you couldn't help but notice the look of concern on his face. You wondered what could be going on inside his mind and if everything was okay. Shoko's presence also made you feel a bit uneasy, as if she knew something that you didn't. You found yourself anxiously waiting for his return, hoping that he would come back and explain the sudden tension in the air. "It'll get better."

"What do you mean?" you asked, turning to face her with a confused expression. She tucked a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear as she looked at you with a pitiful expression.

"I know about everything, but please just give him a chance," she pleaded with a heavy sigh, placing her hand on her belly and starting to rub it. "I know it may seem like he hated you, but the truth is, he doesn't. He's just struggling to deal with his own emotions, Y/N." She looked at You with compassion, hoping to ease the tension between you and Satoru. "Please, give him a chance to make things right."

"I know it may be difficult for you to understand, but there were things that happened before you came into the picture," she explained with a sigh. "Him and Jiiyuu had a long history before you arrived, and it's not your fault that he's acting this way." As you stared at her, you couldn't help but feel baffled by her words. How could he blame you for something that happened before you even knew him?

You avoided her gaze, staring at the floor you just wanted to disappear. To never been seen again, maybe then you could feel loved. Despite not knowing Satoru as much and just being recently married your heart ached. You knew him for almost all your life and for him it was like you were a mere bug in his life, easy to be forgotten.

The pain of unrequited love consumed you as you stood there, unable to face the woman you had spoken to. You couldn't help but feel invisible, ignored and insignificant in the eyes of the one you loved. No matter how much time and effort you put into your relationship, it seemed like you were never enough for them. And as you stood there, longing for their love and attention, you couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it to continue chasing after someone who would never truly see you.

"I see," your voice barely audible. You felt the need to swallow, holding back your tears you continued to look at the ground.

"Just please," She grabbed your hands placing hers on top of yours. As her warm hands consumed yours, you felt the sudden feeling of coldness gone, even if just for that simple moment she stared at you. "Give him a chance," she pleaded, her eyes filled with sincerity and hope.

In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of doubt and hesitation fade away as you considered her words. Maybe, just maybe, she was right and you should give him a chance. You had to remember he lost someone he loved too.

You smiled kindly at her, thanking her before going off to find your husband. You bit your lips trying to spot your white haired husband but it didn't take you long. You spotted him speaking animatedly with Kento and another man wearing glasses.

You debated on walking towards him, what if you were a nuisance? Or what if he just didn't want to try in this marriage as you did. These thoughts swirled in your head as you stood at a distance, unsure of what to do. You didn't want to bother him or make things more difficult, but you also couldn't help but feel hurt and frustrated by his lack of effort in the marriage. You were torn between approaching him and confronting him, or simply walking away and accepting that things may never change.

Your thoughts were abruptly disturbed when you saw a man with pinkish hair approaching you. He stood tall and had two small tattoo markings on his face. As he got closer, you noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes and your heart began to race.

"What's a pretty lady doing out here alone, huh?" he said, grinning as he stuck out his hand in a polite manner. You kindly smiled back, unaware of who the man was. You didn't mind the company and thought it would be nice to have some conversation.

"Oh please, you must have me confused. I'm no pretty lady," you giggled, correcting the stranger. You then introduced yourself and accepted his hand, shaking it firmly before he introduced himself in return.

"I'm Ryomen Sukuna," he introduced himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he stuck his hands into his pant pockets. Despite his playful demeanor, it was clear that he was a handsome man. "Nice to meet you, Y/N Gojo."

"So tell me, are you here alone or with someone?" Tilting your head to where your husband stood you sighed.

"Im with my husband, you might know him actually." He raised one eyebrow, pouting his lips he looked at the crowd trying to guess which one was it.

"Hm, is it that ugly fella with the black hair?" You giggled, rolling your eyes at him. You shook your head in denial. "No, that's actually some random person I don't know," You replied with a smile. "But nice try."

"Try again." You said, shaking your head as you grabbed a pastry from the pastry table. You couldn't resist indulging in one before heading back to your seat. You had made your way over to the table without even realizing it, too absorbed in the conversation with a certain man.

"Oh I see, you're talking about Gojo," he said, pausing to point his finger directly at where your husband was sitting. "That albino looking guy," he added with a smirk.

Before you could even engage in an actual conversation, you were pulled away from the man, your husband standing in front of you defensively. "Don't talk to my wife," he said, his tone filled with jealousy and possessiveness. It was clear that he didn't trust you and didn't want anyone else to have a chance to get close to you.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on his lips. He had always found Satoru's rigid attitude towards relationships amusing. But now, as he leaned in closer to Gojo, he couldn't resist teasing him about his own love life. "Oh please, funny coming from someone with..." he paused dramatically, enjoying the way Satoru's expression shifted. "with a lover."

"I can't believe you would choose that disgusting excuse for a person over a mature, respectable woman like her." He said, with a hint of bitterness in his voice. He then quickly composed himself and found his way back to his seat. Satoru grabbed onto your arm, pulling you along with him to your seat as well.

You could feel the tension in the air as you avoided his gaze, knowing that he was fuming with anger. He was visibly biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to control himself, his anger only intensifying at the mention of his lover and the insult Sukuna had thrown his way. Despite the fact that you were the one wearing the ring, it was clear that he did not care about you at all, and it was painfully evident in that moment.

You gripped the fabric of your white dress, feeling the soft material between your fingers. As you ran your hands over the delicate fabric, you couldn't help but admire the intricate stitching and the way the dress hugged your curves perfectly. The softness of the fabric against your skin made you feel elegant and confident, something you hadn't been feeling in a while.

Shoko smiled as she addressed the guests, her voice projecting through the microphone. "Thank you all for coming, we'll be having games soon as per every baby shower has one. These games are a fun way for everyone to participate and celebrate the new arrival. We hope you enjoy them and have a great time!"

Truth be told, you wanted to run and escape from this form of everyone's expectations. You longed to return to your old life, free from the pressure and obligations that came with being the chosen one for an arranged marriage. You felt sorry for yourself for being so naive, thinking that Satoru would just accept the situation without any objections. In all honesty, who would want to be in your position?

However, you couldn't help but feel envious of the vastness and freedom that the sea represents. You longed to be able to travel and explore without any responsibilities or worries holding you back. As you gazed at the sea, you couldn't help but compare your stagnant and unfulfilling marriage to the endless possibilities that the sea seemed to offer.

You stayed staring at the sea, lost in thought about your miserable life. You wondered if maybe being with Toji, your best friend and lover, could be like the sea - a source of solace and escape from your troubles. The rhythmic crashing of the waves and vast expanse of the ocean seemed to offer a sense of peace and possibility that you longed for in your daily life.

The wind gushed over you, a few of your hairs falling out of place. Bringing up your hand to fix it you tucked your hair behind one ear. You longed to be loved, to be someones everything again. Maybe it was regret you were filling, or maybe you just felt like you deserved absolutely nothing. As you sat there, the emptiness inside you grew, and you couldn't help but wonder if anyone would ever see you for who you truly are and love you unconditionally. The loneliness and longing for a deep connection weighed heavily on your heart, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing from your life.

You never wanted to be the cause of someone else's heartbreak, yet here you are, living a life that was meant for someone else. You can't help but feel guilty and unworthy of any love. Every time you looked at Satoru, you were reminded of the fact that you were not the one they were meant to be with. It's a constant internal struggle and you can't help but wonder if things would have been different if you had just followed your heart.

"Y/N?" You're thoughts were interrupted by Shoko, her hand sticking out to help you get up. "It's you and Satoru turn for the blindfolded diaper game."

You took her hand, following her to the center. Everyones eyes looking at you and your husband. They handed you a blindfold. Grabbing the soft fabric they placed it on your eyes, tightening it before starting the game. Every other couple had their own doll, having to change the diaper before anyone else did.

"Go!" Shoko giggled seeing everyone start.

As the game began, you could hear the sound of rustling fabric and giggles from the other couples. You and your husband carefully felt for the diaper pins and began to change the doll's diaper, trying to do it as quickly and accurately as possible. The crowd cheered and laughed as the game progressed, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with the other couples.

Despite the blindfold, you and your husband worked together seamlessly, and in the end, you were declared the winners. As the blindfold was removed, you were surprised.

"Y/N and Satoru take that one! Seems like she's a lucky lady, huh? He knows how to change diapers!" exclaimed one of Shoko's friends.

You chuckled awkwardly as you found your seat, sitting down next to your husband. "I didn't know you knew how to change diapers," he said with a genuine confused look. You looked down and shrugged, "I guess I learned something new."

You caught a look on his phone, seeing he was texting a certain number you remembered seeing.

before you knew it the day had come to an end, you were already back at the Hotel cave you had rented out. You felt mentally and physically exhausted. For some reason you felt more at peace now. Maybe it was because you had come to realization that you could never make Satoru love you, but yet you knew you had to try. At elast for Toji, his last words being "Take care of yourself, okay?” It hurt so bad.

Satoru was in the restroom getting changed, practically forgetting about your existence. You stood outside, feeling a mix of emotions - irritation at being forgotten and a sense of loneliness.

“Toji… Please never forget about me.” As you stood there, lost in your memories of Toji, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing and sadness. Even though he was gone, he was still a big part of your life, and you could never forget about him. The thought of him fading from your mind was unbearable. You hoped that wherever he was, he knew how much you missed him and how much he meant to you.

You threw yourself on the bed, kicking off your heels and undressing yourself, you unclipped your bra and grabbed a big T-shirt stopping as you recognized it. It was one of Tojis shirts or rather as he said, his “lucky” shirt. He had explained to you that he met you with this shirt on so he had gave it the title the “lucky” shirt as he was lucky enough to meet you.

As you held the shirt in your hands, memories of him flooded your mind. You remembered how he would always wear this shirt on your date nights, how he would always smell like his cologne mixed with your perfume when he wore it. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that you would never see him wear it again. You threw the shirt back onto the bed and collapsed onto the pillows, wishing you could turn back time and hold onto those happy moments forever. But now, all you had left were memories and his "lucky" shirt.

Hearing the doorknob unlock you quickly grabbed the shirt and put it on, leaving you in just ur panties and Toji’s shirt. You grabbed the soft sheets of the bed and pulled it down, going under the sheets you faced away from Satoru who has just gotten out the restroom. You didn’t dare to say a word to him.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you pretended to be asleep. You didn't want to face the awkwardness of the situation and you hoped he would just leave you alone. But then you felt the bed shift as he climbed in next to you. Your heart raced as you felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you close.

"Why do you smell different, more..." he paused, slowly sitting up from the bed and turning on the small lamp next to him. "You smell like cologne," he said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He couldn't quite place the scent, but it was definitely different from the usual lavender and vanilla perfume you wore.

You tried to reply before he took the shirt off you, “Its Toji’s isnt it.” He stared at you not daring to blink, his intense gaze making you feel vulnerable and exposed. You could see the anger and betrayal in his eyes as he realized you had been wearing another man's shirt.

"I didn't think it was such a big deal," you covered your chest with your arms as a shiver ran through your body. The coldness of the hotel cave was biting, causing goosebumps to emerge on your skin. You could feel the chill in the air, but it was nothing compared to the icy feeling in your heart.

Satoru gripped the shirt before throwing it, most likely hiding it later on. “A big deal? my wife wearing another’s man shirt? not a big deal?” He scoffed grabbing one of his shirts and throwing it to you.

"You must be stupid or something," he muttered, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "And don't pretend to be shy. I've seen your breasts before." With a scoff, he turned off the lamp and lay back down in bed next to you. You couldn't believe his audacity and felt hurt by his crude words. It was clear that he didn't value or respect you, and you couldn't help but question why you still stayed with him.

Today was your last day of the so called “honeymoon”.

You loathed every moment spent here with Satoru. You envied anyone who didn't have to endure being in his presence. You would rather be dead than ever come back here with him again.

You hated the fact that you married such a handsome man. You couldn't help but feel conflicted, as his sleeping figure appeared so peaceful and innocent. It was hard to reconcile this image with the way he treated you, with the hurtful words he would say and the way he would make you feel small and insignificant. Yet, here he was, arms wrapped around you, his touch so gentle and loving. It was a constant battle between your heart and your mind, torn between loving and loathing this man. But in this moment, as you awoke to his sleeping figure, you couldn't help but feel a small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different between you two.

As expected, he wasn't wearing a shirt and you were surprised to find that you weren't wearing one either. You couldn't help but feel a rush of heat to your cheeks as you realized you were practically skin to skin with him. The close proximity and lack of clothing added an unexpected tension to the situation, making your heart race and your mind race with thoughts of what could happen next.

Despite your initial attempts to escape his grasp, you found yourself unable to resist the comforting presence of the man in front of you. You couldn't help but feel drawn to this peaceful version of him, free from his usual toxic behavior. You gently placed your hand on his smooth, shiny skin, reveling in the softness of his cheek and the fullness of his lips. Your thoughts turned to kissing him, but you quickly scolded yourself for even considering such a thing. He may be different now, but he was still the same man who had caused you so much pain.

You gently brushed one of his hairs out of his face, revealing his forehead. With a sigh, you spoke his name, "Satoru." You shook his shoulder, hoping to rouse him from his slumber.

His blue icy eyes staring back at you, he released his grip and rubbed his face tiredly. "Mm, Gmorning," he grumbled, clearly not a morning person. Despite his rough exterior, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort in his presence.

“Today's the last day of our vacation and I want to do something memorable, something that will make this trip even more special. Please, can we do something fun and romantic together?” He let out a deep sigh before getting up from the bed.

Without saying a word, he walked straight to the restroom, leaving you feeling disappointed and unheard. You could hear the sound of the faucet being turned on, a clear indication that your requests were being ignored.

Once again you were alone, somethinf you were going to have to get used to now. You got up grabbing the white t-shirt your husband gave you last night.

You walked outside extending your arms up stretching your sore muscles and gazing at the sunset. You took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, salty air and feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. As you looked out at the stunning view of the caldera and the sparkling Aegean Sea, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment. Despite the painful memories associated with this place, you knew that this beautiful view would always hold a special place in your heart. You took another deep breath of fresh air and let out a content sigh, feeling the tension from your muscles slowly dissipate. The warm sun on your face and the gentle breeze made for the perfect morning routine.

You could feel the tension in the room as you walked in, but you didn't know how to break the silence. Satoru seemed completely absorbed in his phone, not even sparing a glance in your direction. You walked straight towards the restroom, in need of a bath. You stripped yourself off your clothing. immediately going into the hot shower, feeling it go over your body you could finally relax.

As the warm water cascaded over your body, you could feel the tension and stress melting away. It was as if the shower was washing away all the worries and troubles of the day. The soothing sound of the water and the comforting warmth enveloped you, providing a sense of calm and peace. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, feeling grateful for this moment of relaxation amidst the chaos of the day.

Suddenly, the sound of the bathroom door opening caught your attention. You turned to see your husband walking in and casually brushing his teeth, not even noticing you in the shower. As you watched him, you couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness and disconnect. Despite being in the same space, it felt like you were in different worlds.

“Listen, we’re going to go eat dinner then we can go see what we can do alright?” You hummed in return not paying attention to a single world he said. You knew that his words were empty and insincere. He had a habit of saying things to placate you, but his actions always spoke louder.

You just wanted to go home, to find a new hobby to preoccupy yourself with. You got yourself ready, elegant enough for a so called “dinner” he was taking you too.

He emerged from outside grabbing his wallet and keys he closed the door before heading out by the parking area. “Its kind off like a cruise but its only for a few hours so stay with me at all times, got it?” You nodded back entering the car with your husband.

As you drove to the harbor, your husband explained that the boat you were about to board was a yacht rented out for private events. You were excited for the mini cruise and couldn't wait to see what the night had in store. As you boarded the yacht, the sun started to set and the view was breathtaking. You thanked your husband for the surprise and promised to stay by his side throughout the night.

The sun was setting, casting a beautiful orange glow over the ocean and the yacht. As you stood next to Satoru, you could feel the warmth of his arm against yours. You both tried chatting with the other couples on the yacht, enjoying each other's company and the stunning view. The drinks were delicious and you could feel yourself relaxing more and more, grateful for this chance to spend time with Satoru. Maybe this trip would be the turning point in your relationship.

You felt the vibration through Satorus pants, indicating that someone was trying to reach him. With a brief apology, he excused himself and made his way to the other side of the yacht to take the call in privacy. From your spot on the deck, you watched as he paced back and forth, his expression growing more serious by the second. You couldn't help but wonder who could be calling him in the middle of your vacation again.

Feeling dejected and alone after being stood up by Satoru, you decided to drown your sorrows and headed to a nearby bar. While nursing your drink, you struck up a conversation with a group of people who, to your surprise, were also on their honeymoon.

Particularly, you had met this rather old couple, they were in their 40s and said that this was their third time back in the mini cruise. They were sitting at the deck, enjoying the ocean view and sipping on some cocktails. "We just love the atmosphere and the relaxation that comes with being on this cruise," the woman said, smiling at her partner. "It's like a mini vacation from our busy lives," the man added, nodding in agreement.

"You're absolutely gorgeous!" exclaimed the woman as she took a sip of her cocktail, once again admiring the stunning symmetry of your facial features. She couldn't help but notice the way your eyes sparkled in the dim lighting of the bar, or the way your smile lit up the room. It was as if you were the perfect combination of beauty and charm, making it impossible for her to take her eyes off of you.

"Thank you so much, you look rather gorgeous yourself," you replied, smiling at her compliments.

"Now tell me, why are you here all by yourself?" The woman asked, tilting her head with curiosity.

"Well," you begin, trying to come up with a plausible excuse, "I just needed some time alone to clear my head. It's been a stressful few weeks and I wanted to take a break from everything." You flash a fake smile, hoping she wouldn't catch on to your lie about your husband. You knew he was here, but he was too busy talking to his mistress on the phone to notice your absence.

As you stood nervously in front of her, she playfully nudged you and said, "Well, let's hope some young, handsome man here can swoon you and steal your heart." You couldn't help but laugh at her teasing words, and her smile only grew wider. She gestured for you to come and talk more, and you found yourself feeling more at ease in her presence.

You tried to look for satoru, to no avail was no where to be found. You sighed in disappointment following the middle aged couple back outside. “You know i used to be just like you,” she said.

You tilted your head confused, “Just like me?”

“I would often take spontaneous trips to new places, whether it was a nearby hiking trail or a faraway city. Being in a new environment helped me to relax and forget about my stressors for a while. The excitement of exploring a new place and the freedom of being away from my usual routine brought me a sense of peace and clarity. And even though it may have seemed impulsive to others, I never regretted taking these adventures to clear my mind.”

"That's also how I met my now husband," she continued, "and I can tell you from experience that it's important to always be certain if the man you are marrying is the right person for you." She went on to give you further tips and advice on marriage, sharing her own personal stories and lessons learned.

You didn't know why she was so comforting, maybe it was the way she kind of reminded you of your mother in some way or maybe because you needed someone as wise as her to speak with you. You were grateful for the empathy she showed towards you and the insightful advice she gave. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders after talking to her.

"You're a beautiful young woman," she said, smiling at you before taking off her sunglasses. "Never settle for less because there's always someone who would do anything for you." Her words resonated with you.

Almost the entire night you spent it with the couple, talking about your future and what college you went to. The whole night was filled with laughter and you had realized mid way through it that Satoru still hadn’t came back.

You had found out the womens name was Akari Nitta, she was probably one of the nicest people you had ever met. As the night went on, you couldn't help but feel grateful for meeting Akari Nitta. Her kindness and warmth made you feel at ease, and the drinks only added to the pleasant experience. You found yourself opening up to her, sharing stories and laughing together. The alcohol slowly took over your body, making you feel lightheaded and carefree.

Despite just knowing the couple for a few hours, you felt an instant connection with them. It was as if they could see right through you, making it impossible to hide anything. Before you knew it, you were pouring your heart out to them, telling them everything that had been happening between you and your husband. Akari's anger was palpable, and you knew she would do anything to protect you from Satoru's mistreatment. "Oh sweetheart, don't cry," she said, wiping away your tears as they fell down your cheeks.

Although you despised alcohol and the hold it had over you, you found it to be a temporary escape from the harsh reality of your life. It was a fleeting moment of calm amidst the chaos and pain that plagued you daily. It was a temporary numbing of the emotions and memories that haunted you, making it easier to endure the present. But deep down, you knew that alcohol was only a band-aid for your problems, and it would never truly solve them.

To make matters worse your husband happened to appear by you after the many hours he was gone he was surprised to see you crying. “Y/N, whats wrong?” You could tell he was genuinely concerned as to why he came back to his wife crying.

Jiyuu had been drunk calling Satoru, telling him how she missed his touch and how she wouldn’t wait for him to divorce you. The whole time without you knowing he was calling her and couldn’t even be with you on your last day of your honeymoon.

"You... You're a disgrace," she said with venom in her voice as she spat at Satoru, who looked back at her with a bewildered expression.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" His eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. You stood there, confused and unsure of what was happening.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she continued, her voice shaking with anger. "How could you treat such a wonderful and sweet girl like absolute shit? And then insult her like if it was her fault?” Her words pierced through the air, leaving him speechless and ashamed. People stopping by see what was going on.

His eyes widened, “Listen old hag, Shes my wife and stay out of our love life.” He narrowed his eyes as his anger flared, "I don't need your meddling in my relationship! She's my wife and I'll handle our problems on my own." He clenched his jaw and shot a fierce glare at the old woman, challenging her to say anything else.

Her voice trembled with emotion as she continued, "She deserves to be treated with love and respect, not like a worthless object." Her words were filled with anger and disappointment towards the man standing in front of her. "You are nothing but a coward, incapable of taking responsibility for your actions." She turned and walked away, leaving the man to contemplate his behavior towards the girl. “wonder how disappointed your mother would be.” she spat back Shaking her head.

The yacht abruptly stopped, causing you to stumble into Satoru's arms. "Toru, let's go home, please," you slurred, clearly intoxicated. Satoru could tell that you were completely wasted and in no condition to continue partying on the yacht.

The words the woman had said hit him hard, he carried you to the car and placed you on the passenger seat. You had fallen asleep once he carried you. As he drove, he couldn't help but replay her words in his mind. He sighed not wanting to deal with anything else. His world already felt like it was crashing and this? Just made it worse. He wondered how he was going to handle this situation and if he could even fix it. The weight of it all suddenly felt too heavy to bear.

The car ride was quiet, save for the occasional snore from you as you slept soundly in the passenger seat. He couldn't help but feel conflicted about his feelings for you. On one hand, he wanted to stay true to his commitment to jiyuu, but on the other hand, you brought a sense of peace and comfort that he couldn't find elsewhere. He knew he had to be careful, not wanting to lead you on or hurt jiyuu in any way. But deep down, he couldn't deny the guilt he felt for you.

He couldn't bear the thought of losing Jiyuu again. It was like a constant ache in his chest, a reminder of the love he once had and lost. He couldn't understand why he resented you so much, why he treated you so badly when you didn't even want the marriage either. He was torn between his loyalty to Jiyuu and his duty to make the marriage work. But deep down, he knew that he could never truly love anyone else the way he loved Jiyuu.

However, he was determined to make his dream a reality, even if it meant sacrificing his marriage and causing heartbreak. In the end, he was able to be with the person he truly loved, but at what cost?

He parked the car before getting out and carrying you once again, he could obviously tell you had one to many drinks as you couldnt even wake up from it. Finally he made it to the house Gently placing you on the bed, he changed you out of your clothes and put you in something rather warming. All he could do was just stare, stare at your flushed cheeks and your glowy skin. He could tell you had been crying because your lips were slightly more plump and your eyes were a but puffy.

Feeling a pang of guilt, he couldn't help but wonder what could have caused you to drink so much. He made a mental note to check on you in the morning and make sure you were okay. As he turned to leave, he couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness over you, even though he barely knew you. He hoped that you would be okay and that he could help you in any way possible. With a final glance, he quietly left the room, hoping that you would wake up feeling better in the morning.

He didn’t mind picking up your stuff and putting it in your suitcase, remembering that you had to wake up early tomorrow he ordered room service and asked them to bring some Advil for the headache you were sure going to have tomorrow.

He couldn't quite put his finger on the reason for his sudden change in behavior towards you. It could have been the influence of the stranger's words, or perhaps it was the weight of his guilt that finally caught up to him. Whatever the reason may be, it was clear that he was making an effort to be kind to you in this moment.

As he lay in bed, he kicked off his shoes and reached into his pocket to grab his phone. He scrolled through social media, occasionally glancing over at you lying next to him. Suddenly, his phone vibrated, and he quickly sat up, intrigued by the notification. He leaned over, seeing your sleeping figure he sighed in relief. He opened the message, seeing it was Jiyuu trying to text him at 2:04 in the morning.

+1 *** *** ****; love you Toru, don’t forget that.

He bit his lip contemplating if he should reply back, 'Toru...' he remembered the nickname gracefully slipping out of your mouth, and for some reason, it made him smile. He couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and fondness towards you.

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#arranged marriage #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #mean gojo #modern au jjk #cheating gojo #sukuna #shoko ieiri #geto suguru #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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adascore · 3 months

Text

THE AWARDED SILENCE

pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader / lucy bronze x lyonnais!reader / mary earps x lyonnais!reader / sarina wiegman x lyonnais!reader + mapi and ingrid cameos!

warnings: very awkward. angst. swearing.

author's note: lucy meddling with her two captains... nothing good can come of that, can it? hope you all enjoy this third part! also I’m aware the gif is not the right award ceremony, but couldn’t find a better gif.

part 1 | part 2 | masterlist

•••••••

With the end of a season also came the prestigious award shows, something both Y/N and Alexia were all too familiar with. Although it was different this time around; it would be the first time they would actually go up against each other in the big categories.

It was clear to everyone who would be walking away with each one of them. Not only had Y/N walked away with both the European Championship and the Champions League title, she'd been named the MVP of both those tournaments. Some of the media were trying to hype it up as another competition between them, but even Alexia was aware she had no chance of walking away with anything as long as Y/N was nominated for it as well.

First one up had been the UEFA Women's Player of the Year, which Y/N had taken home, alongside Sarina who had won for Women's Coach of the Year.

That was followed up by the Ballon d'Or. It was a big deal as they were the clear frontrunners, and whoever won would become the first player to win the accolade for a second time. Again, Y/N made history and had accepted the gold award. Alexia hadn't gone to the ceremony, citing illness as the reason why.

The England captain had been upset by her absence, she hadn't seen nor spoken with Alexia in months and had hoped the ceremony in France would have been an opportunity to catch up. She'd smiled when the midfielder sent her a congratulatory message, along with a shout-out on her Instagram story- stating how she was deserving of the award.

It would take a few more months before they'd see each other, at ‘The Best FIFA Football Awards' in Paris. Along with being nominated for Best Women's Player, they would both be featured in the Women's World 11.

The first interaction came when they were hastily put next to each other as they received their trophies. As the cameras clicked, Y/N and Alexia exchanged smiles that masked the tension between them.

''I think it would be difficult for anyone to beat this team.'' Lucy grinned, speaking into the microphone that was attached to her cheek.

The women received another applause and made their way off the stage, handing over their trophies that would be handed back to them at the end of the ceremony.

A few winners later, Kylian took the stage to present ‘The Best FIFA Women's Player' award. They showed a pleasant montage of Alexia, Y/N and Alex- a compilation of their season's highlights.

Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. She knew the PSG player would call out her name, but you never knew if they wanted to stir up some controversy.

The England captain was sat on the first row, meanwhile some of her teammates and fellow female players were scattered in the other rows. Alex sat right behind her, while Alexia sat on the other side of the room with her Barcelona teammates.

The room hushed as Kylian unfolded the envelope. ''And the Best FIFA Women's Player is… Y/N Y/L.''

Applause erupted, and Y/N nervously got up from her seat. On the pitch, the striker was confident, but making speeches in front of a full room filled with people in power and fellow players, was not something she had gotten used to.

The Brit turned around and reached her hand out for Alex to take, a silent sign of respect for the season the American had had. She would have done the same if Alexia had been seated there, but walking to the other side of the room would have taken too much time.

Y/N carefully walked up the stairs, trying not to fall as she was wearing heels. Kylian noticed, and made his way over to offer his arm to her. She smiled, and accepted, holding onto the striker's arm.

He congratulated her, pressing three celebratory kisses on her cheek. ''Félicitations, Championne.'' (''Congratulations, Champion.'') Kylian said.

''Merci.'' (''Thank you.'') Y/N grinned, and she took her place at the microphone.

''Uh, thank you so much to all the people that voted. It's a big compliment to have your fellow players and coaches vote for you, so thank you so much.'' She started off, her voice a bit shaky as her eyes darted around the room.

''I, also, quickly want to acknowledge Alex and Alexia. It's an honour to be nominated alongside you, and I want to thank you for all the contributions you have made so far and for the great football we get to see from you. Thank you.'' Y/N glanced at both of them, giving them a nod as the crowd applauded them.

The camera panned to both women. The American striker mouthed a ''Thank you'' to the younger player, once teammates at Lyon. Alexia clapped, but maintained a composed facade.

She had also clapped when the Brit's name was announced, concealing any type of disappointment she felt. While she had anticipated the outcome, the sight of Y/N claiming the award instead of her was something hard to swallow- in the same way it had been hard to watch her rival lift the Champions League trophy the previous year.

Her applause was genuine, and deep inside she knew that Y/N deserved it more than her, but Alexia would never admit that out loud. As the striker continued her speech, the midfielder struggled with being happy for her colleague, while dealing with her own unspoken desire for recognition.

Lucy, seated beside Alexia, offered her a knowing smile. The Barcelona defender had seen it from close by, how everything was a competition for them. She'd noticed it at her new club, where the lost finals against Lyon served as reminders for the team to do better, and to not let that happen again. She'd noticed it in her England teammate, and how tense she had been before the friendly against Spain.

On the other side sat Mapi, concerned over how her friend was handling it. ''It's okay, Ale.'' She whispered in their native language.

''I know, it's just an award.'' Alexia replied, not taking her eyes off Y/N.

The Spanish defender dropped it, giving Ingrid a look before focusing on the winner as well.

''… cause I couldn't have done it without them. Uh, yeah, congratulations to all the other winners as well. Thank you.'' Y/N concluded.

The audience applauded one last time, and she got off the stage. She hid her face in embarrassment as Mary whistled loudly, feeling hot as her friend hyped her up.

After was seemed like forever, the ceremony was done.

Most attendees got up from their seats, but didn't leave the main hall as they walked over to catch up with people they knew or to get to know other people.

Y/N got up after about a minute, deciding to go talk to Christiane and Wendie, her Lyon teammates. However, the universe or someone called Lucy Bronze had better ideas.

''Hey, Captain.'' She heard the defender greeting her.

As the striker turned around, she was met with a surprise. There stood Lucy, accompanied by none other than Alexia Putellas. The Brit wore a smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

''Hi, Bronzey.'' Y/N responded, slightly caught off guard.

The English internationals shared a hug, Lucy whispering a congratulations in her ear. ''Thanks, you too.''

As the two parted, Y/N's eyes fell on an awkwardly standing Alexia.

''Y/N, meet Alexia. Alexia, this is Y/N.'' Lucy said, her eyes darting between the pair.

The two captains exchanged an uneasy glance. ''Uh, yeah, we know each other, Luce.'' The striker stated, feeling very uncomfortable with the situation.

Lucy chuckled, completely unfazed by the discomfort she had purposely created. ''Oh, I know. It's just that fans online were saying that they wanted me to have you guys become friends, so I'm just keeping my promise to them.''

Y/N and Alexia forcibly grinned at the admission, both aware of what people said about them on social media. The latter cleared her throat. ''Uh, congratulations again. You really deserve it.''

The Lyon player nodded, a somewhat more genuine smile appearing. ''Thanks, I appreciate. You as well, with the, uh, World 11.''

''Thank you.''

Another pause hung in the air, the atmosphere thick with awkwardness. It was as if their shared teammate had conspired to make this encounter as uncomfortable as possible.

''Oh, there's Sarina, excuse me, ladies.'' Lucy swiftly escaped, using their Dutch coach as part of her scheme.

That left the players facing each other. The tension was uncomfortable, and neither seemed eager to break the silence that had settled between them.

After a moment, Y/N was the first to give in. ''So, how is your knee doing?'' She asked, noticing the Spaniard was no longer holding onto her crutches.

Alexia's eyes briefly flickered towards Lucy, who was signing with her hands to keep going. ''Uh, good. Yeah, if everything goes to plan, I should be ready by the end of the season.'' She replied, a small smile present.

''So… World Cup ready then?''

The Catalan shifted on her feet at the mention of the tournament. ''That's delicate right now.''

''Oh, how, uh, is that situation going at the moment?'' Y/N had momentarily forgotten about the mutiny going on in the Spanish national team. She knew Alexia supported the girls that had made themselves unavailable, but they'd never had any conversations about it.

Alexia shrugged her shoulders. ''It's being worked on, it's… a lot.'' From the way she was speaking, her colleague could sense it wasn't a topic the midfielder wanted to happily chat about.

''I understand. I just want to say that a lot of people are behind you guys, and want to see change happen,'' Y/N softly spoke, ''me included.''

''Thank you.'' Alexia sounded genuinely grateful for her words.

Y/N has been a huge advocate for women's football ever since she became a professional player, so her acknowledging the Las 15's stance meant more to Alexia than she could express.

''Sorry, could I get a picture of you two?'' One of the official FIFA photographers interjected, pointing at the two of them.

The pair shared a look, seemingly asking without words if the other was okay with it. They nodded at each other, and hesitantly put their hands on one another's back, posing for the camera.

''Thank you.'' The man thanked them, walking over to another group of players.

''It was nice talking to you. I'm, uh, gonna see what my teammates are up to.'' Y/N politely excused herself. The conversation was turning out more bearable than how it started, but she still wanted nothing more than to leave.

''Same. Um, good luck with your matches, and maybe we see each other in the semifinals?'' Alexia hinted at a potential Champions League clash.

The Lyon striker chuckled. ''We'll see, Putellas. Have a nice night.''

As Y/N made her way to her teammates, Alexia watched her departure with mixed emotions. Yes, she was happy that they'd had a conversation. But, it was frustrating that there still seemed to be a wall between them, and a big one at that.

What was it that always held them back from truly opening up to one another?

''You know she's going to kill you once she's finished with that conversation, right?'' Mary said to her fellow Lioness, subtly taking a glimpse at Alexia and Y/N.

Lucy smirked, her eyes barely leaving her two captains. ''Who? Y/N or Alexia?'' She laughed.

''Both.'' Sarina and Mary chorused, laughing now as well.

''Nah, they'll have to work together for that. Never gonna happen.'' She continued joking.

The England coach shook her head. ''Why are you doing this again?''

''Because I wanna have fun, and although I am happy with my little trophy, this show is super boring. Just want to spice things up,'' Lucy explained, ''besides, fans will love it. The Queens of football talking together. La Reina and La Reine.''

Sarina and Mary exchanged skeptical glances, unsure of how either players would react. ''I'm not so sure Y/N will appreciate your idea of fun.'' Mary commented.

''Oh, what could go wrong?'' The defender genuinely did not see the problem. ''See, they're even taking a picture together.'' Lucy pointed out, seeing the pair in front of the photographer.

After the picture, Y/N gracefully excused herself and began walking towards where Lucy, Mary, and Sarina were standing. She joined the trio with a forced smile, attempting to suppress any visible signs of annoyance.

''Nice reunion there?'' Sarina tried to lighten her captain up, noticing her gloomy expression.

''We talked.'' She answered. It wasn't a proper response, more like a factual statement.

Y/N wasn't sparing Lucy a glance, the defender, however, remained unfazed. ''That's nice.''

''Congrats, by the way, darling. No one deserves this more than you.'' Mary tried to deflect, not a fan of the tension. Sarina smiled at the reminder of all the awards her team collected. ''Yeah, congratulations.''

''Thank you, you too, Mearps. You almost made me cry with your speech. Sarina, you didn't make me cry, but yours was really nice as well.'' She turned to her coach, managing to still make a teasing comment.

Sarina laughed. ''Well, thank you.''

''Uh, I'm gonna say hi to my, uh, other teammates.'' Y/N nodded her head towards where Wendie and Christiane were standing with some of the Lyon staff.

She then glanced at Lucy. ''Or you want to set that up for me as well?'' She sarcastically chuckled.

''Hey, come on. I thought you guys were friends now.'' Lucy said, a lame attempt at defending herself.

''Who said that?'' Y/N frowned.

''Jill.'' The defender retorted.

''What a source,'' the captain scoffed, ''we're not friends, and I don't need you to make us friends.''

''How bad was that conversation that you're this pissed at me?'' Lucy asked, not expecting her friend to be this irritated over her actions.

''Just don't do that ever again. It was fucking embarrassing.'' With that, she made her way over to her Lyon teammates.

Mary and Sarina slowly glanced back to Lucy, whose smirk had been practically smacked off of her face.''What could go wrong, aye, Bronzey?''

On the other side of the room, Alexia carefully walked over to Mapi and Ingrid after Y/N excused herself from the conversation.

''You look like you need alcohol.'' The Spanish defender noted, taking in her friend's expression.

Alexia sighed, smoothing her hair down. ''Neither of us enjoyed that.''

''Lucia really did you dirty there.'' Mapi responded, glancing to where her teammate was speaking with the England camp.

Ingrid offered a sympathetic smile. ''I think she had good intentions, she meant it well.'' She chimed in.

The Barcelona captain nodded. ''I know, but it was so awkward.'' Alexia grimaced, cringing at the reminder of how the two football stars had just uneasily stood in front of one another.

''You'll be fine,'' Mapi caressed her back, ''one day you'll be able to laugh about this, trust me.''

Alexia gave her an unimpressed look. ''I'd rather not.''

The defender glanced at her girlfriend. ''So oblivious.'' She whispered to Ingrid.

''What was that?''

''Nothing.''

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas x reader #lucy bronze x reader

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 4 months

Text

*NSFW* The Wishing Hole (Yandere x GN!Reader)

Warning!! This is not a romance, read at your own risk CW: LONG, Dead Dove, abuse, murder, trauma, manipulation, masturbation, mutilation, unhealthy relationships, obsession

"Have you heard about the hole?"

Part I

"It's right over here!" Miranda theater-whispered to her friends as she led them through the black woods. Their flashlights bobbed in the darkness, the only light visible to the trio of twelve year olds as they trekked through the thicket. (Reader) gripped onto their envelope tightly, fearful of leaving sweat marks on it.

They had been staying the night at Brian's house when Miranda brought up the hole. A local urban legend by that point, the story of a hole that granted wishes. Brian had chastised Miranda for believing a story so stupid, but still followed her and (Reader) when they snuck out to grant their wishes.

"How do you know where it is?" He nervously hissed.

"Abby's sister Rebecca has a friend who found it. Over here." Miranda spoke as though it should have been obvious why she knew where it was.

(Reader) could do nothing but hope. They hoped hard, over and over again, wrinkling the papers in their fist as the yellow light led them to their future. All they could do was beg the universe to grant their wish. For the hole to be real.

The trees thinned and opened, revealing a small clearing with a very deep hole dug out of the earth. It was a normal looking hole, but in the dark of a moonless night to a group of children, it was ominous.

Their muddy boots all stopped a good foot away from the edge. The ground didn't look stable.

After taking a shaky breath, Miranda threw her envelope into the hole, squeezing her eyes shut as she focused all her energy on the wish written inside the letter she tossed. Brian thought about arguing, calling out his friends for littering, but instead copied Miranda, throwing his wish in as well. (Reader) felt adrenaline shoot to their finger tips as the anxiety tried to rip through their veins and escape their skin. Their packet was thicker than either of their friends', and fell harder as they chucked it in with all their strength.

The only future (Reader) wanted was nearly impossible. It would take divine intervention to get that happiness. "What did you wish for?" Miranda asked Brian behind (Reader).

"I want to know what I want to do."

"That's it?"

"What'd you wish for?"

"A hot boyfriend, who's gonna love me, and marry me."

"Well, when you're trapped in a marriage with three kids, I'll be doing what I love every day."

Miranda groaned loudly, refusing to get into another argument with her best friend. She instead looked at (Reader) who was still focusing on the hole. "What did you wish for, (Reader)?"

Their eyes seemed to be seeing something the other two couldn't see. Large pupils fixated on nothing, still filled with enough anxiety to cripple an adult.

"Someone who loves me.."

"Ugh, not you too.." Brian's voice melted into the background, almost unintelligible in the dense air. The contents of the wish filled (Reader's) head to the point that nothing else could be heard.

• 15 years later •

Another failed date.

Dark rings permanently decorated the underneath of (Reader's) tired eyes. The perpetually single adult slid down against the wall, too exhausted to continue standing. There was nothing particularly wrong with the guy, but he just wasn't "the one" for (Reader). He was boring and awkward, rambling about his job and future plans, bragging about his hypothetical future fortune. Nothing he did was bad enough for (Reader) to guiltlessly label him a douche, but nothing about him was their type.

They pulled out their phone, looking at the dark haired man on their wallpaper for a second too long before opening up their messages with their date. (Reader) typed up a quick message to thank Rich for the date, but that they didn't see it going any further.

The phone was tossed to the side as (Reader) struggled to stand, grabbing a beer from their fridge as the phone began chiming from the linoleum. Texts rapidly coming in were ignored by (Reader) as they cracked open their first drink for the night.

His unread messages echoed through (Reader's) shoebox apartment.

The weary adult wondered how their therapist would react next week at their appointment. It wasn't realistic for an adult to fixate on a wish they had made as a child, but just like all those years ago, (Reader) knew deep in their bones that there was no happiness for them if they couldn't have that wish come true. Rich was attractive, in an average sort of way, with straight brown hair cut a little too short for the shape of his brow. He had nice lips, (Reader) thought, but couldn't imagine kissing them.

The beer tasted like lightly bitter water. Not a promising sign; it tasted like they would need something stronger. On the way to the living room (Reader) noticed their bedroom door had some dirt on the white paint, like someone had pushed it open with filthy hands.

(Reader) felt an anxious jolt to their system. A familiar pain they hadn't felt in a long time. They pushed open the door, timidly entering their own room like a stranger nervous to be caught. But the room was empty.

"So, how'd your date with Rich go?" Adam asked hopefully. The same trio of friends since primary school sat in their local diner. It was a monthly ritual, gathering for brunch to force themselves to keep in touch. They tried to hold the meeting every week, but with work scheduling it was impossible. Adam sat with his husband, Jon, across from Brian and (Reader). Everyone had changed so much as they got older, but that was to be expected. No one can stay a child forever.

(Reader) sighed before sipping on their milkshake. Adam knew exactly what that meant, and groaned, just as dramatically as when he was a child. His hair may be shorter, but some things stayed consistent.

"What was wrong with this guy?"

"Nothing!" (Reader) replied defensively. "He just... wasn't my type."

Brian pushed up his glasses. "Maybe you should lower your standards."

"Brian!"

"-I mean, it's good to have standards, obviously, but people are real people, not characters in a book. No one is going to match your description of a perfect partner, because people aren't perfect, ya know?"

(Reader) stole a glance at their phone, admiring the black haired man behind the time. "You can say that, because your wish already came true. Both of yours."

Both Brian and Adam looked ashamed and a little uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact and fixating on their meals. Jon almost went cross-eyed trying to understand what (Reader) was implying.

(Reader) stood, tossing a couple bills onto the table. "I have to go, I'll talk to you guys later."

"Okay, have a good day! Text me when you get home." Adam said warmly, hugging his dear friend tightly while trying to shape his face into a happier expression.

"I will. Bye."

Brian gave up a small side hug, grimacing.

Jon waited until (Reader) was out of sight before asking "Were they talking about that wish you guys made as kids?"

The bespectacled young man rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes."

"I know what Adam wished for, but what did you and (Reader) wish for?" When he mentioned Adam's wish, Adam rolled his eyes playfully and they nudged each other lightly. Their whole relationship was practically diabetic for Brian, who still after all these years didn't get the appeal in romance.

Brian adjusted his glasses again, clearing his throat. "I wanted to know what to do with my life." And he had found that calling. The summer before high school he discovered a YouTube channel centered around ornithology and sent him on a strange spiral of bird mania. His friends and family thought it was a temporary fixation that he would lose interest in after a year or so, but his newfound fascination guided him all the way through college, landing him in an animal husbandry profession taking care of cranes at (what Brian considered to be) a humane zoo. "(Reader) wished for someone to love them."

"Well, I believe there's someone for everyone. It takes some people longer to find 'the one' than it does for others, and (Reader) seems like a great person, so I'm sure they'll meet someone that fits their childhood ideal."

Although Jon meant well with his words he could see the discomfort on his husband's and Brian's faces, their eyes either focused on their drink or plate.

They never read (Reader's) wish.

But over the years the two friends had begun to piece together a picture of the kind of man (Reader) wanted.

It was a complete breach of trust, looking into a friend's past, going full internet stalker mode to investigate into the secrets (Reader) wouldn't divulge. And what they found...

Was a lot.

They didn't know how to open the conversation with their third musketeer, since the facts and speculations were all obtained without (Reader's) knowledge or permission, but if Brian and Adam were correct in their understanding of what (Reader's) wish was, they genuinely wanted to help (Reader).

They also knew where (Reader) was going. But even that was impossible to confess.

Because at that moment, (Reader) was in their car for their monthly four hour visit with the greatest man (Reader) had ever known. It was unfortunate scheduling, but (Reader) couldn't compromise the day for either party. Keeping in contact with their friends was important for their mental health (according to their therapist) but this meeting was more important to (Reader) than practically anything else in their life.

Metal fencing and high beige walls appeared through the trees like a fairy tale castle. Instead of an evil dragon guarding the entrance, however, there were armed guards. Still every bit of evil in (Reader's) eyes.

"Welcome back, Mx. (Reader)." The usual security officer greeted grimly. Before he could ask for identification, (Reader) already had it out. Although they had met many times throughout the past decade, it was still a formality required by law. The two filled out the necessary paperwork while only offering tight smiles. He opened the gate for (Reader) to drive in and park in the visitor's lot. (Reader) always felt the cameras on them whenever they entered this "castle".

Officers emptied (Reader's) pockets and scanned their body for metal. There would be no physical connection at all, but they still needed to take precautions.

(Reader) was led through the lifeless grey halls towards visitation. Each step made their heart race and fostered the smile on their lips. Approaching the room with squeaky broken stools and bulletproof glass relaxed their faux grin for a genuine tranquility. There were no other visitors at the time.

The stool creaked under (Reader) as they gently eased into the old thing, staring at the window. Shortly after they sat down, the man from their phone's wallpaper, now with more silver hair than black, shuffled in on the other side, smiling softly as he sat across from (Reader). They both grabbed the phones.

"Hi Dad."

His dark eyes with pupils so large that without direct light made them look black had deeply etched wrinkles decorating them that folded deeper as he smiled. When Donavon McElroy was arrested, the news outlets focused on his eyes like some kind of Kubrick film, fixating on how you could just see the evil in some people. It felt as though the only person in the entire country who could see how loving Donavon's eyes were was (Reader).

"Hey kiddo. I've missed you."

"I missed you too." There were only four hours of visitation allowed per month. "Have you been getting my letters?"

Greasy ringlets of hair tumbled to the side as he cocked his head. "They're still the highlight of each week." Donavon didn't blink often. Even though the lights always hurt his eyes, no matter how dim they were, he seemed like a mannequin, refusing to blink and miss a second of his precious child's face. "How have you been since our last visit? I know you said in your letters that you're still going to therapy, which is good, very good.. how's that going for you?"

(Reader) felt their smile dip a little. "Well, it's going. I don't really like my therapist, but I know it's just because I don't like what she has to say. Even if I change doctors, they'll still say the same things."

Donavon nodded understandingly. It was like that at first for him as well, receiving psychiatric treatment while in prison. "I didn't like being told that my line of thinking was.. wrong. I knew that logically my thinking was, of course, obviously wrong, but it didn't feel wrong, so having a.. professional tell me that was upsetting."

"But it's important that you continue with it. And I'm very proud of you for continuing with it."

(Reader) laughed. It was a sharp scoff of a laugh, but not spiteful. It filled their chest with hot lava to hear someone praise them for doing what they've been doing since they were ten years old. Because it was difficult. Even if (Reader) continuously told themselves that this was the bare minimum. It was still difficult.

"She has me out in the dating world." (Reader) slumped a little, only slightly enough that no one but Donavon could tell the change in their posture. "Which is.. not fun."

"It can be fun. Does that carnival still come? There used to be a traveling carnival, a pop up fair, that would set up in a parking lot of a small store in our home town, really cheap. That could be a fun first date. Tiny ferris wheel and gravitron. Elephant ears." The two adults smiled widely thinking about it, but neither of them were picturing it as a date. His smile melted when he realized this. "I wish I could have taken you there."

(Reader) imagined a different life, one where they were in his care instead of their mother's, eating pastries the size of their head and getting sick on possibly dangerous attractions in a small parking lot. Their mother never took them, but they knew which pop up fair he was talking about, riding past it on the bus many times in their life. "That sounds like it would have been fun.."

".. but like I said, dating can be fun. As long as your being safe." (Reader's) dad's smile bounced back. "What have you done so far that hasn't been fun?"

"Well, I went out for dinner. Guy named Rich. He was, uh, decent. Talked a lot. Mostly about his job, and goals."

"Sounds career focused, that's good."

"Eh.." They shrugged, eyes drifting.

"What was wrong with him?"

(Reader) sighed. "Nothing. He was.. competent. Seemed like a regular guy. He just.. wasn't my type."

Guilt began to crawl through the folds of Donavon's brain like bugs infesting his conscious. He knew it was all his fault. Everything. But if he said that out loud, (Reader) would deny it, argue and fight it. "Well, there are plenty of fish in the sea."

"There's also plenty of trash."

Donavon pointed a finger at his kid warningly. "There's also sunken treasure. Don't give up hope."

"I don't need someone to be happy.."

"That's true.. but something tells me that when you weren't actively dating around, you weren't being content with the single life, and that's why your therapist is having you go out there. That.. maybe you were still waiting around for something that you shouldn't have, instead of living life to the fullest while alone."

The two became uncomfortably silent. This happened nearly every month. "I just want someone who loves me."

Donavon swore he could cry at that moment. "I'm sorry for-"

"Don't apologize." (Reader) cut him off. "Don't apologize for being a great dad."

"I wasn't. I wasn't a great dad. I'm-"

"-don't-"

"-a monster, (Reader). Kiddo, please, just listen to me. I'm sorry for the things I've done. The way I went about.. I wasn't in my right mind.. what I put you through was not okay. It was not, and will never be okay." He leaned forward, wishing to break through the glass dividing them and hug his kid. "I'm so sorry."

(Reader) softly responded "You're the only person who ever loved me."

"And you deserve better than that."

'No', (Reader) thought, 'there is no better than that.'

"Let's change the subject, please." (Reader) closed their eyes, forcing away the tears. "We never have enough time, and I don't want to spend the entire day focusing on sad shit."

Donavon took a shaky breath. "Okay, kiddo.." he mulled over for a second what to talk about before cracking a smile, one wide enough to show off his missing canine. "Remember Eddy?"

"Your old bunk mate?"

"Yep."

"What about him?"

"He got stabbed."

The sentence was so short and sudden that it shocked (Reader) into snorting, bringing back their genuine smile. "What? When? What happened?"

From the door an older guard smiled sadly, away from view. Donavon was liked by nearly everyone, both by the guards and the other prisoners. It was always a shame, getting to know someone who was supposed to be an evil bastard, and learning that they were just a great man who needed help. Plenty of the older guards understood that (Reader) would forever look at them with disgust and mildly veiled hatred. Because Donavon was (Reader's) hero, and the guards were just wardens unjustly holding him captive.

Their conversation continued without pause, filling the empty room with sounds of parental love and warmth. The guard at the door loved being there whenever it was time for (Reader's) visit with their dad, because it really was an incredibly beautiful and emotional scene every time he was present, but he also hated being the one on duty whenever (Reader) came, because he had to be the villain to say "Time's up" when their four hours were over.

"Mx. (Reader). Donavon."

(Reader's) eyes drooped, darkening under the shadow of their eyelashes. "Already?"

"Unfortunately."

The guard had been there so long, he remembered when (Reader) was a child, and would cry and scream whenever it was time to leave, begging him to let their daddy out.

Donavon smiled comfortingly. "Thank you for visiting me, kiddo."

"Of course."

"Maybe in another decade they'll let me have physical contact visitation." Donavon chuckled, only half serious with his hopeful statement. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too. Don't forget to write."

"I never do."

They both stood up, hanging up their phones painfully. It was the worst time of the day. His chains shook around his wrists as he waved goodbye. He never hurt a single guard in his time incarcerated, but it was a formality, a requirement, due to the nature of his crime. It didn't seem to matter how good his behavior was. Even though the guards trusted him, according to the law Donovan was still to be treated as a monster.

After being guided back out of the room, through the halls, and out to the parking lot, (Reader) finally felt like they could breathe. The air that was stolen when the guard ended their visit with their dad was greedily sucked up outside the stifling building. They finally looked at their silent phone, seeing a dozen messages from Rich. Or, who's number (Reader) assumed was Rich, since they had deleted his contact as soon as they woke up that morning.

Most of the texts were pleas for a second date, or an explanation for what he did wrong. Some of them were insults.

(Reader) sighed, deleting the conversation and blocking his number before getting into their car, allowing tears to silently fall down their warm cheeks. All that they wished for was for someone to love them, and no one would ever love them like their dad did.

The drive back was just as miserable as it was every month.

And just like every month, the tears didn't stop until (Reader) pulled up to their apartment. It was a long day, where the good moments weren't long enough, and (Reader) was ready for another beer. It wasn't Sunday, but it was their Sunday, which meant that they couldn't stay up drinking all night.

But it felt as though they had just popped open their can when someone started pounding on their door, angrily and frantically. (Reader) cursed not being able to afford to live in an apartment that had a controlled door to the building, living in a cheap one that had the stairs on the outside of the building. Which meant that there were no security measures to prevent just anyone from coming straight to (Reader's) unit.

They set the alcohol to the side and made their way to the door. The banging only stopped when the person on the other side heard (Reader) unlocking the deadbolt. A slightly sweaty man with brown hair too short to be messy stood impatiently.

"Rich?"

The slightly younger man shrugged sharply, jutting his head to the side with an attitude as if to say 'No shit, who else?'

"Are you going to let me in?" He asked impatiently.

"Uh, no?" (Reader) furrowed their brow. "How'd you find where I live?" They were too confused to even be mad or scared.

"It wasn't difficult; literally everything is online." Rich responded as though (Reader) was a fucking idiot for even asking. The disrespect was shocking, a severe shift from how he acted during their date. He shifted abruptly as though he was going to charge (Reader), so they tightened their muscles, holding the door closer to their side, which earned an aggravated huff.

"What are you doing here, Rich?"

"Well, you owe me an explanation after you ghosted me after our date the other day." His tone made it sound so obvious.

(Reader) scoffed, almost amused. "No I fucking don't."

"I was the perfect gentleman on our date considering the circumstances, you and I had a good time, but then you ghosted me? And I just want to know why." The emphasis on the 'considering the circumstances' included a wave, motioning to (Reader's) body. (Reader) didn't know if he was insinuating that their body was a problem, or if it was their gender expression, or if he just had high fashion expectations that (Reader) didn't live up to, but the little hand movement finally ticked them off.

"Okay, you're done." (Reader) tried to close the door, but Rich was stronger than he looked, and effortlessly pushed them back into their apartment and entered. (Reader) didn't fall, only stumbled, wobbling to regain balance as Rich casually closed the door behind him, pacing his hands on his hips.

"So, what did I do wrong?"

"You mean before you broke into my home?"

"I did- don't be fucking dramatic, I did not break in. I just want to know, I just want to know what I did wrong."

(Reader) slowly backed up, mentally picturing the apartment behind them to figure out where their closest form of defense was. "Nothing. It just didn't work out-"

"BULL SHIT."

"-you weren't my type."

Rich stuck out his jaw, clicking his tongue. "That isn't a reason."

"Yes, it is-"

"That isn't a reason to be a fucking dick."

'How far behind me is my knife block?'

Before (Reader) could make a move their front door violently flew open again, slamming loudly into the wall. Both Rich and (Reader) whipped around at the jarring noise.

A man stood in the doorway.

His skin was so caked in dirt and muck that his yellowish skin was almost completely painted over. Long, black hair curled due to the oil, hanging down and sticking to his gaunt face. Between the shaggy locks black eyes glared unblinkingly.

"Who the fuck is that?!" Rich nearly hollered, retreating closer to (Reader) out of fear, unable to tear his eyes away from the modified weapon in the intruder's hand.

Warmth spread throughout (Reader's) entire body; the god of love releasing a cage of butterflies into their body.

"He's here to kill me."

Part 0

Eight year old (Reader) tugged on their oversized long sleeve shirt. It was rubbing against the bruises uncomfortably. Everything about their body felt uncomfortable lately.

Their mother was late again.

Mr. Haley sighed loudly for the umpteenth time, looking at his watch as though it was (Reader's) fault their mother hadn't picked them up yet. It was warm and humid, and the sleeves of (Reader's) shirt were sticking to their arms. Despite the heat, Mr. Haley wouldn't allow (Reader) to wait inside, instead standing at the entrance of the school under a tree. (Reader) was the last child at pickup, aside from the children outside on the field for after school sports.

"Is your mom working late again?"

(Reader) didn't answer, instead watching the man walking into the nearly empty parking lot who seemed to be staring at (Reader) and their teacher. They couldn't tell exactly from how far away he was, but he didn't get any closer, keeping to the entrance, partially hidden behind a sign.

"Do you have anyone else I can call? Grandparents?" His kind voice was strained, exhaustion melting his patience.

The man suddenly ducked away from view, and shortly after (Reader's) frazzled mother sped walked into the lot, storming closer to the building. (Reader) left to meet her half way in an attempt to calm her down, but their teacher followed.

"Good afternoon, Ms. (Name)-"

"(Reader), c'mon." As soon as (Reader's) mother was close enough she immediately spun on her heel to leave again, ignoring the teacher.

"Ms. (Name), this is the third time-"

"I know!" The woman snapped, stopping abruptly, causing (Reader) to bump into her side. "I'm sorry."

"-the third time this month."

"I said I know!" She whined, throwing up her hands. "I couldn't get out of work, it wasn't that long!"

"After school activities are almost over. It's been almost an hour-"

"Don't be a dick, okay, I'm twenty minutes late."

"School ended forty minutes ago."

She crossed her arms. "So not an hour."

"Almost an hour-"

"So not an hour."

Mr. Haley sighed in defeat. He tried again, however, he was interrupted by the woman grabbing (Reader) by the arm and dragging them out of the parking lot. Her nails dug into the scabs on (Reader's) arm.

She spat out curses towards the teacher as she dragged her kid down the road towards the bus stop.

"Fucking asshole- and I told you that I was working late!" She turned her frustrations on (Reader), squeezing their arm painfully before releasing them, making (Reader) lose their balance.

"I'm sorry, Mom.." (Reader) quietly apologized, already shrinking in on themselves, head hunching into their tiny shoulders.

"Jesus, stop flinching like that. You look like I beat you or something.."

It was true, she never hit (Reader).

She just grabbed them.

Grabbed them by the back of the shirt, the front of their collar, the arms, wrists, and all parents smack their kids on the back of their heads, that's not hitting. It wasn't her fault that (Reader) bruised so easily. She didn't even hit them.

The city bus pulled up to the stop.

"Kevin's coming over for date night, so when we get home, make sure to do all your homework in your room. I'll bring you dinner and some snacks, but the adults need some alone time, okay?"

"Okay?"

"Okay!" (Reader) loudly responded, wringing their shirt in frustration.

(Reader) liked their mom when they had popcorn nights, when they made a bowl of popcorn and sat down to watch a rented movie together. But most of the time? (Reader) hated their mother.

They hated the way she dismissed them. (Reader) never seemed to be a priority in the woman's life. It didn't even feel like she hated (Reader). (Reader) was just nothing. They didn't receive hugs when they were scared, didn't get kisses when they were sick. And it wasn't one of those cases where you can't remember a single good memory because you're mad; (Reader) couldn't recall a single time their mother ever said the words 'I love you' to them.

She said it to Kevin though.

When they arrived home, (Reader) immediately went to their room, closing the door and flopping onto their mattress on the floor. They didn't feel like doing their homework, and decided instead on a quick nap. It wasn't like their mother was going to check in on them and see how they were doing anyway.

Maybe their dreams would bring a nice family for them.

CRASH!

A loud smash of glass and something heavy falling onto the thin apartment floor woke (Reader) up. They didn't know how long they were out for, but the sun was still up. (Reader) nervously bolted off the mattress and onto their feet, teetering in the middle of the room.

There was a quiet choking sound that liquefied into a gurgle before silencing.

(Reader's) handle slowly turned and their door was softly opened. A terrified looking man drenched in blood stood in front of (Reader), gazing down at them with inhuman eyes. His eyes were wide, panicked, but glassy, red, and with pupils so enlarged that he reminded (Reader) of the ghost woman from a scary movie their mother had been watching. He tried to brush his black hair out of his eyes, never looking away from (Reader's). It was the most intense staring contest (Reader) had ever been in.

He was timid in his approach, crouching down to his knees as he got closer to (Reader).

"..Hi." His voice was shaky and breathy. The man seemed to be overcome with an emotion that (Reader) didn't recognize. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, yet he still didn't blink. He swallowed hard before continuing. "My name is Donavon."

(Reader) was in an odd trance, halfway between petrified and numb. "My name is (Reader)." They didn't know why they answered.

"I know." For the first time since entering, Donavon glanced away from (Reader), searching the room for something. There were no toys in (Reader's) room. "Are you a-" His face broke trying to find the words he needed for his question. "Are you a b-?" A- a-.."

"I'm a kid." (Reader) tugged on their uncomfortable long sleeve shirt.

Donavon smiled so wide that his face looked like it completely split in half. Tears ran down his face shamelessly. The pure joy startled (Reader). "You're a kid." He sniffed back his snot and wiped away some tears, still smiling so hard that his face was turning red and he looked like he was going to laugh. "You're my kid."

He pulled (Reader) into a hug.

It wasn't like the quick hug the school nurse gave them, or the hugs their friends at school gave them; it was desperate.

He squeezed them almost too tightly, his fingers digging painfully into their ribs as he breathed in their hair. But (Reader) didn't cry out or ask him to stop. Tears had begun to fall from their eyes as well.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo. I should have been here. I should have been here." He started rocking (Reader) as he apologized into their scalp. "I didn't know about you, but I do now, and I'm here now."

(Reader) felt him kiss the side of their head quickly before he went back to whispering.

"I didn't know. But I do now. I'm so sorry."

It was too much, and it made (Reader) cry. They sobbed loudly, wailing into his chest as they returned the hug.

"I love you, (Reader). I love you so much. I don't know you yet, but I still love you. I should have been here for you, but I am now. And I am never letting you go. Okay? No one is ever taking you away from me."

Police sirens approached, screaming outside the building. (Reader) felt Donavon quickly reach into his back pocket, but he never let go from their right embrace.

"I never knew your mom. When I saw you with her last year, I - I tried to get into contact, but, but.. No one would listen to me, I had no proof.. I.. got a DNA test.. I -I'm your dad! I'm a father!" He started rambling, trying to explain things to (Reader), but they couldn't understand anything he was saying. And it didn't matter to them. He said he loved them.

(Reader) heard heavy boot steps and an officer loudly announce his presence.

"No one is ever taking you away from me again."

He was still only hugging (Reader) with one arm.

Someone entered the room, and a really loud sound hurt (Reader's) ears.

An officer shot Donovan in the shoulder, causing the knife he was holding to clatter onto the floor. He fell, releasing (Reader). They saw the knife and quickly put two and two together. But something happened in (Reader's) underdeveloped brain. It didn't matter that they had just met him. That man the police just shot was their dad. And he loved them.

"No!" (Reader) tried to launch themselves at Donovan to protect him, but their tiny body was caught by an officer.

"Don't worry, I've got ya!" The man tried to console (Reader), easily subduing their thrashing limbs, but his soothing voice didn't ease the pain in their heart, nor did it dampen the volume of their shrieks.

"DADDY!!"

The cop carried (Reader) out past the bodies of their mother and Kevin. Both were mutilated, lying naked near the couch in a pool of blood and spilt vodka.

Donavon was sentenced to life without parole.

He testified in court that the only thing he regretted was almost hurting his child. (Reader's) mother had taken advantage of him at a party years ago. Donavon had passed out drunk in the master's bedroom and woken up with his pants and underwear around his ankles. He told the court he didn't remember anything that happened, so although he suspected that someone had assaulted him, he had no proof and records showed that the police refused to help him when he went to report it.

It was a one in a million chance that Donavon saw (Reader) and their mother grocery shopping over a year ago, and nearly had a heart attack seeing a little kid who had his father's ears. Ears are just as unique as fingerprints, and to see a little kid with badly cut hair looking like a mixture of his father's baby photos and the woman walking beside them gave Donavon a sense of confidence that was borderline disturbing. He told the jury that he approached the woman with the intent of making polite conversation about how much alike her kiddo looked like his late father, but knew immediately that (Reader) was his, because when their mother looked Donavon in the eyes she recognized him.

"Before I could even say 'Hi', she grabbed (Reader's) arm and said 'Stay away from my child, Donavon.' I didn't even remember her face."

On the witness stand, Donavon admitted to breaking into their home so he could get access to (Reader's) DNA, stealing their hair brush. He also admitted to stalking the family, watching them as (Reader) openly showed signs of abuse. He called CPS multiple times, but nothing ever came of it.

Donavon repeated how time and time again law enforcement failed to help him get custody of his 'alleged' child, and that he had "snapped".

"I told (Reader) that no one would take them away from me again. Please, please I know I was wrong." Donavon pleaded the jury, looking past the lawyers and staring with his horrifying, never ending gaze. "Please don't put me away forever. I can get better, with help! I needed help! But my baby, my kiddo, they deserve better, please don't separate us again!"

Despite going to a decent foster family and receiving regular therapy sessions with child services, (Reader) had learned what true love was. The smiles their foster family gave them felt fake. No one could hug (Reader) tight enough to press their way into (Reader's) heart. Love was tears streaming down from the black coal eyes of a desperate father who just killed his kiddo's abusers. That was heroic. That was good. Just.

(Reader's) foster parents smiled at each other all the time, and said I love you multiple times a day. Then they divorced. Love was (Reader's) daddy, ready to kill (Reader) so they never had to be apart again.

The therapist with child services watched with a broken heart as (Reader) refused her homemade cookies. "Have you made any friends at school?"

(Reader) shrugged. They didn't see much of a point in friends. "There are these two kids I eat lunch with." Two kids who wouldn't leave them alone, no matter how much (Reader) ignored them.

"That's good! What are their names?"

"Miranda and Brian."

"Are they good kids?"

"They're weird. Brian wears glasses that make his eyes look super big, and Miranda wears a fedora."

"Well, I'll let you in on a secret. The weird kids are usually more fun to hang out with than the normal kids!" She winked while smiling, but it didn't phase (Reader).

"When can I see my dad?"

The therapist leaned back, looking up at the ceiling to control her inner turmoil before shutting her eyes. "I'm working on that, but it's very difficult. Mr. McElroy is in a lot of trouble for what he did."

(Reader) looked down at the drawing they had been making of them playing outside with Donavon. "I wish he killed me."

Part II

Warren had run away from home, again.

His left eye was swollen shut, and blood speckled the front of his t-shirt. The ten year old hadn't even done anything yet, but his father had had a bad day at work, and been drinking for a couple of hours by the time Warren was dropped off by the Saturday babysitter.

He ran into the woods, blinded by his tears and the swelling.

Because of the crying and injury to his eye, Warren couldn't see very well, and kept running even when he emerged from the trees into a clearing; running into a very deep hole.

There was a pain as his ankle popped, crashing at the bottom into the mud. Everything hurt, so he allowed himself to scream and cry as loudly as he needed. No one was going to come for him anyway.

And so he stayed in the hole and watched as the sun went down and the world went black. Even though he knew his father wouldn't come looking for him, he still wished he would. He wished someone needed him as badly as he needed them.

There was no moon that night, leaving Warren completely blind after the purple sunset left the sky. With his unusually dilated pupils Warren typically preferred the dark over the sun, but without the moon there wasn't enough light for him to see.

'Maybe, I should just spend the night in here.' The sad thought made him sniffle, threatening to release the floodgates again.

"It's right over here!" A loud whisper followed by feet tripping over branches echoed through the trees. Warren held his breath, suddenly afraid of being discovered. It wasn't logical to be frightened, but he was. There were strangers in the woods, and he was in pain and blind and alone. His heart beat in his chest like a war drum as people drew near.

"How do you know where it is?"

The voices belonged to children, probably around Warren's age, but he didn't recognize any of them. Most of what they said was too quiet to hear, until they arrived at the clearing.

"Over here."

The strangers stopped near the hole, but too far away to see Warren covered in mud at the bottom. Lights were illuminating the air, and Warren figured that they must have had flashlights with them. His eyes finally had enough light to adjust to the pitch black, and he watched a letter flutter into the hole, followed shortly by another letter, gracefully drifting in.

Then a thick envelope was chucked in, hitting Warren in the head, who had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from accidentally making a startled sound.

"What did you wish for?" Someone asked.

With that question, Warren realized where he was.

He grabbed the letter that had hit him, quietly opening it up as two of the strangers above him bickered. In the faint light he saw a lot of words, too many to read before they left, so he quickly scanned the page out of curiosity. His breath hitched when he saw a drawing of himself.

Black eyes and shaggy black hair.

Warren put the papers back in the envelope and stuck it in his pants. Someone approached the edge, and Warren caught a glimpse of hair and eyes. They didn't see him, but he certainly saw them.

"What did you wish for, (Reader)?"

"Someone who loves me.."

And at that moment, Warren believed in the hole that grants wishes.

He had no proof that the child looking down at him was the same child who threw the wish practically into his lap, but he knew that it was. Like fate, or magic.

After the trio left, Warren pulled his sore little body out of the muck, repeating (Reader's) name to himself over and over again as to not forget it. He didn't know how, but he knew that (Reader) was the one who's wish he had stolen. Warren limped home, easily sneaking in past his father passed out on the couch and up the stairs to the bathroom, where he locked the door.

He quickly pulled out the letter, opening it up in the light to read the wish in full.

"I wish someone would love me." Warren read quietly out loud, sounding out each word as his finger followed the sentence.

"He has to be just like my dad. Be - cause my dad is the only person who loves me."

"He has to have black hair and black eyes.."

Warren looked at his dirty face in the mirror, ignoring the purple around his left eye and focusing on his natural features. A proud smile crept onto his lips.

He went back to reading. "And his eyes should be deep.." Warren's own eyes were also deep set, making it look like he had bags under his eyes even after a full night's sleep. His ears started to turn pink. The picture was of the kid he saw at the hole with a tall man with black hair and eyes and a little guy who looked the same. He pointed at each person. "That's (Reader).. that's (Reader's) daddy... And that's.." he looked at himself in the mirror, tearing up with how hard he was smiling.

Someone needed him.

He turned the page over and his smile instantly fell, his blood freezing.

Pictures of bloody bodies covered the pages.

Page after page of dead people with the most intense things Warren had ever read followed the seemingly innocent wish. He hadn't been exposed to video games yet, his father didn't let him watch TV, and Warren ignored the other kids at his school, so he had never known violence outside of the terrible things his father did to him. And the words he read in that envelope were violent.

"True love is keeping me."

"If he loves me, he'll kill me."

"Don't let them take me away again."

"Together forever."

(Reader) was worried about the limitations of the wishing hole, so they felt they had to be very specific about their ideal boy. Which meant that they had to explain what love was. And to explain what love was, meant that they had to explain to the hole what their dad had done to their mother and Kevin.

It scared Warren.

But only for a moment.

He thought about the joy (Reader) would feel when they saw him for the first time, how their eyes would light up with love and adoration. In his mind, they would recognize him instantly, like their drawing come to life. Warren was their wish come true. And, in a way, (Reader) was his.

He slowly went back to his bedroom and hid the letter in his underwear drawer. The wish was like his most prized possession. Knowing that there was someone out there who needed Warren made him, for the first time in a very long time, feel hopeful for the future.

The next few years of Warren's life, however, were not pleasant in the slightest.

An anatomy book flew at Warren's face, connecting with his thin nose. He was now in highschool, and the abuse had only worsened.

"What the fuck is this?!" His father threw another medical book, terrified. In the past he used to throw and break things even though Warren's only crime was existing, but now even Warren could understand his father's disgust.

A rat laid on Warren's table, split open.

"I'm practicing.." Warren smiled, blood dripping from his nostrils.

"I should kick you out of the goddamn house!" The drunk man kicked a wall, leaving a dent in the drywall.

"If you do that, I'll go to the police."

His father's eyes widened. "The fuck you just say, you little psychopath?!"

The man was very nimble for someone so swollen from years of alcohol consumption, closing the distance between himself and his son before Warren had a chance to put up his hands in defense. Large, yellowed fingers grabbed a fistful of Warren's greasy hair and lifted his dangerously underweight body off the ground; high enough where Warren couldn't touch the floor with his toes.

"Think about it. You have no proof for the cops that I killed this rat, but I have all the proof that you hit me." To emphasize his point, Warren didn't wipe away the blood that was now dripping onto the rat carcass.

Black eyes that held no light stared wide and unblinking at the disgusting excuse of a man before Warren. His father looked about the room, which was now covered in articles about some murderer from years ago and medical texts printed off at the local library.

Warren was dropped onto his ass. "Fucking freak." His father mumbled before stumbling out of the room.

It wasn't until Warren heard the drunkard smash though the hall towards the staircase that he finally grabbed some tissue to shove up his nose. It had taken him years and years of hard thinking, but Warren had finally found a way to be (Reader's) perfect husband. It was difficult, but the solution was finally discovered, a way to make (Reader's) wish come true without killing them.

He thought he would probably drop out of school, but that didn't really matter to Warren. The young man already had a part time job, and his future career as a manager for a small corner store was practically set.

Candid shots of (Reader) laid under the box of tissues. While (Reader) had continued growing into an attractive young adult, Warren was stunted. A lack of nutrition gave his unnaturally pale skin a yellow tint, and he was so thin that some of his teeth were becoming loose. But it felt as though he couldn't waste even a second thought on anything that wasn't (Reader).

"I'm sorry, Mr. Whiskers.." Warren apologized quietly to the dead rat. "I didn't mean to kill you. I'll do better next time."

Every time Warren saw (Reader) out and about, he wanted to drag them behind a dumpster and fuck them till they bled. It took incredible restraint to stick to his plan and keep to the shadows.

Their wish, laminated, hung above his bed like a prayer, one that he read and worshipped every night before bed.

Warren's father didn't notice when he stopped going to his classes.

He also didn't notice the muffled screaming from the basement, when Warren evolved his experiments from rats to people.

It wasn't until the smell became unbearable that he finally sobered up enough to go down and investigate.

As he searched the house for the cause of the smell, the aging, dying man briefly wondered when the last time he had been down in basement was. Or, when he last saw his good for nothing son.

The stairs to the lowest level creaked under his shoes, and an anxiety he had never before known trickled up through his bones.

At the bottom of the stairs, a door held back the stench like a leaking flood gate. Opening the squealing door wafted a wave of nausea inducing gas right into the man's face.

"Hey, ew what the- hey freak! You down here?! What's that smell..?" His eyes didn't have time to adjust to the dusty basement light before Warren swung a wooden baseball bat with spikes towards his father's face. One spike went through his skull near his nose and another popped open one of his eyes. But his death was due to the blunt force, cracking his head open as easily as smashing a watermelon. The junkie strapped and gagged to the table silently screamed as their one hope for salvation died in front of them.

"I'm sorry about the interruption." Warren smiled, his eyes still and unwavering. The man who had destroyed his childhood and stolen his happiness laid bleeding out on the floor, and Warren didn't feel a single thing. It was strange, part of him thought that he would feel satisfaction watching his abuser die, but he felt nothing at all. Warren only killed his father because he had interrupted his experiment with the homeless person who looked amazingly like (Reader). The young man held up a belt. "Let's continue."

Warren didn't consider himself to be a murderer. What he was doing to the people he abducted was for love. There was no evil or hatred, and if he looked at it in a certain light, he wasn't really trying to kill them at all.

Moving to the night shift gave Warren more time to stalk (Reader) during the day. Just as he had predicted, Warren became a higher member of management, and even 'owned his own home' now that his father had tragically passed. Everything was progressing perfectly, because his entire existence was a wish come true.

It hurt, hiding in the booth behind (Reader) and their friends, hearing about how they had started dating at the suggestion of their bitch therapist, but Warren decided that it was good for their relationship. It proved to him that even after all this time, (Reader) still loved him and needed him. Every time a date failed to live up to (Reader's) expectations it further fueled Warren's fantasy of how (Reader) would react when he finally revealed himself to them.

The dates also provided Warren ample opportunity to look around their apartment. Like when they went on a date with some whiny loser his age. He wasn't even (Reader's) type. Their home was small and quaint, and taking pictures of it in extreme detail helped Warren learn how to decorate the room (Reader) would be staying in once they finally started dating.

Dating.

The idea of merely "dating" caused a painful strain in Warren's chest, but he knew that it was only logical to date before he proposed. At least for a month or so. Maybe a week.

Well, whenever he did propose, Warren knew (Reader) would accept, because Warren was their wish come true. There was nothing he could do wrong, because his entire existence was due to (Reader's) will.

He didn't even bother cleaning off the dirt when he scuffed up the bedroom door. There was no point, because (Reader) wouldn't ever fear or hate anything he did, even if they didn't know he was the one responsible. Because that was fate.

(Reader's) undergarments rested on top of the dirty clothes basket.

Even that was fate.

Because why would they leave their worn underwear in plain view, if not for him? His hands with dirt crusted nails stroked the garment, imaging that he could still feel the heat of (Reader's) body on them. Warren imagined how happy (Reader) would be to learn what he did with their underwear, in their bed. He imagined their eyes glowing like an angel's as their smile graced his filthy presence.

Because this was (Reader's) wish.

And soon, Warren would finally give them their happily ever after.

Warren had put in for a week of vacation at his work; their shared bedroom was decorated; and his supplies were hidden in a backpack in the dirt behind (Reader's) complex. It was like a fairytale, when the knight came to save the dragon from the prince.

Rich approached (Reader's) front door as Warren dug up his hidden tools. Mud covered his face and gloves, but he didn't mind. In fact, it was like a mask, where only his true love would recognize him. Warren knew that his dream would come true that day, but it was even better than he had hoped for. Prince Rich was there to harass his dragon.

He had hoped it would be this easy, and the universe provided. Fate was always on Warren's side when it came to making (Reader's) wish come true. All those lives lost to Warren's experiments were not wasted.

The annoying voice of Rich was audible from outside the building, but it was difficult to feel anything negative towards to poor bastard. In Warren's mind, it wasn't Rich's fault that he was born to be such a loser; it was fate's design for the man to be sacrificed.

Warren threw open the front door, scaring the shit out of the stronger looking man. "Who the fuck is that?!"

Then, the sands of time were fused into glass by the electricity between Warren and (Reader). Their expression looked relieved, just as Warren had always hoped it would. A smile stretched across the beautiful lips Warren often fantasized about kissing. Their cheeks pulled up in the most honest grin Warren had ever seen.

Tears of joy decorated their bottom lashes like glitter.

"He's here to kill me."

Rich put up his arm as though to protect (Reader) from Warren. Again, Warren felt no anger towards the man and his silly reaction.

The bat used to kill Warren's father restarted time as it aimed for Rich's skull.

(Reader) looked up endearingly at Warren, now sitting on their knees in a pool of Rich's blood. The man before them was everything they had ever dreamt of. His black eyes never left (Reader's), even as he bludgeoned their date to death.

It took all of (Reader's) will power to not shake in their seat. Excitement flowed through their veins so quickly that it sent involuntary quivers through their muscles. Everything that they had ever wanted was finally coming true.

"I've been waiting for you." (Reader) felt their chest tighten as Warren approached.

But then he dropped his bat.

Their smile twitched a little, but (Reader) tried to not let anxiety ruin their happiest moment. The dirty man slid a backpack off and started rifling through it.

"I've been waiting for you too.." A voice that sounded oddly chipper finally responded, echoing from a wide grin that showed off yellowing teeth with a few missing on the bottom row.

(Reader) smiled harder. "You're going to kill me?" It was phrased like a question, but it was more of a plea.

"No."

"What?"

(Reader's) smile cracked in half. The adrenaline in their system turned deadly.

Warren's smile didn't fade.

"But, you have to." (Reader) began to panic. This had to be the man they wished to life. He had to be there to kill them. It was fate. He had to! "Aren't you here for me?"

"Of course I am."

"Then you have to kill me! If you love me, you have to-!"

Warren dropped his bag, revealing a hacksaw. He held it relaxed in one hand, and held a belt in the other. "Do you know how selfish you are, (Reader)?"

(Reader's) mind went numb with confusion.

"I've loved you for so long, and now that I finally have you, you think I'm going to kill you?"

"I'm not going to let anyone have you."

"Not even death."

The End

The two story house was full of trash bags. Every room in the building was full of clutter and filth, except the master bedroom.

Warren came home from a long shift, excited to have his precious spouse in his arms.

None of the guards at the prison would listen to Donavon when he tried to convince them all that something was wrong. A child suddenly not visiting their murderer of a parent in prison was not reason to go to the police and open a missing person's case. Even the officers that liked Donavon couldn't do anything.

The bedroom decorated to (Reader's) taste was unlocked by Warren as he finally climbed through all the shit. He entered their shared home with a warm expression of pure love on his face.

"(Reader), I'm home!"

In the middle of the room watching television was a wheelchair bound (Reader). Their arms and legs amputated, sitting helplessly in a soiled diaper. A drugged up, lopsided smiled sleepily tugged the corners of their mouth up.

"Welcome home, baby.."

A/N: Sorry it took so long, happy to start writing again ❤️

#yandere #yandere x reader #dead dove do not eat #not a romance #cw death #cw dead animal #cw blo0d #cw trauma #thank you for waiting so patiently #i know it isn't my usual #dark #cw abuse #abduction #yandere stalker #cw rap3 #male yandere #yandere oc

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gurugirl · 7 months

Text

Just For Tonight | Ch. 3

This is the last part of this mini series! We might have some more coming for you - stay tuned!

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Is it true what they say? Does distance really make the heart grow fonder? Y/n isn't so sure so she tries to move on. But Harry has other plans.

A/N: In this chapter I mention a particular ex (without naming her) as part of the plot. This does not mean I feel one way or another about her, nor do I think this is an accurate representation of how she's acted after their split. This was requested for the story. This is a work of fiction.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, mentions of an ex, angst

Word Count: 11.8k

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

It had been difficult for Y/n to stop thinking about Harry. They connected so well and she loved the way he was with her and how he carried himself. Loved the way they could talk about nothing and have it feel like the most interesting thing.

They had a few calls after he left LA for his tour. But that quickly became hard to navigate with the different time zones. He said he liked her and wanted to see her again. And she was sure that when he said that he meant it. The distance won, however.

But with his absence, with him being in another country on tour, and hundreds of people begging for a chance of what she got lucky enough to experience, she figured that what she’d gotten was probably all she’d ever get.

And that was okay. It wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted more of him. Would have loved to have seen him but she knew he was too famous and too amazing to settle for someone like her. She knew better than to ever get her hopes up. He’d done nothing wrong.

Instagram showed pictures of him with his friends and a mystery woman. A woman who was with him at one of his concerts. And then another one. Photos of them walking along the streets together. A fuzzy snap of them at a small café huddled closely. That was also okay. There had been no promises or commitments made.

Y/n hated to do it, hated to open up Instagram but her curiosity about Harry and if he’d been spotted by fans was eating at her. A DuexMoi post with a screenshot from his recent long-term ex’s Instagram account had her feeling nauseated. It was a subtle thing. Nothing specific but everyone picked up on the meaning. The text was a quote from a book she’d been reading over a picture of a close-up of her wearing a cross necklace.

The comments on what it meant were all over the place. And Y/n knew better than to read into anything too deeply or to fixate on something like this. Harry had brought up his ex once when their conversation was relevant to it. Said that she continued reaching out to him and that even when it was clear they were over the woman still called him and sent him messages on the regular.

And as much as she knew that it was probably nothing she couldn’t shake the way it felt to think of Harry and his ex getting back together somehow. She didn’t know anything about what he was doing at that moment because their calls had all but stopped by then. But the post from his ex was a signal. Did it mean anything? Maybe. But maybe it only meant something to his ex. Perhaps Harry hadn’t even seen it.

However, the comments on the post suggested they were talking again and reports of them trying to “work it out” were numerous.

And with that idea, she decided to log back into her stupid dating app. Try and get over the pop star once and for all. Move on if she could.

She’d had one good date from the app ages ago. The rest of the men who contacted her were absolute wastes but perhaps she’d find someone once again who she could tolerate for longer than a chat session. She’d give it a shot.

. . .

“But you did take her call?” Jeff spoke over the phone as Harry walked back to the hotel after a training session with Brad.

“Well, yeah. We have history. I didn’t want to be rude. Haven’t talked to her in a while. Thought maybe it could be important.”

“And was it?” Jeff sounded exasperated.

“No. She just said she missed me. Wants to see me when I get back to the States.”

Harry knew when he saw the incoming call from his ex that he probably shouldn’t pick up. But that was the thing about him. He was a people pleaser. He didn’t like when anyone was upset with him and he liked being on everyone’s good side. Even if it meant answering a call he didn’t want to take.

And part of him missed her. Missed what they had at the very beginning but he’d truly moved on. Especially with the idea that he’d be getting back to LA soon and seeing Y/n again. He hoped he hadn’t ruined it with her. It was hard to keep in contact with her. Too many missed calls and back-and-forth voicemails. Even the texts with Y/n had dwindled slowly. He understood that the distance was hard to overcome but that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to hopefully seeing her again.

He knew if he had the chance to see her again and she still wanted to give it a shot with him he wouldn’t be letting go next time. He’d make it official. He’d want to really do it right with her. And he’d have a little time off from the tour to dote on her and give her lots of attention. Maybe even convince her that she should just travel with him wherever he went off to. Convince her that she should be his and that he would do everything he could to make her happy like she deserved.

He hoped it wasn’t too late.

And now with the new Instagram post from his ex the gossip had begun. Full articles written about how he and his ex were getting back together again, how it was true love, and a bunch of other nonsense that her story caused. And Jeff was pissed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t have taken her call. That’s sending her mixed signals and now with that godforsaken post she put up you’re already getting hate messages about taking her back. Calling you complicit. It’s a nightmare.”

Sometimes Harry really hated being famous. He didn’t even have to do much to get scrutiny. Sometimes one small little blunder, like answering a call could set off a chain of events that led him to where he was now, getting his ear chewed off by Jeff and having his fans upset with him.

But his main concern was if Y/n had seen it or not. He wondered what she thought about it. If she cared. He wondered how she was. If she’d seen anyone while he was gone. He missed her.

. . .

The job at The Dulcería had turned out to be one of the best things ever, income-wise anyway. She was exhausted and had little free time but she was pulling in pretty healthy tips and when it came time to pay her rent she had plenty left over to pay on time and stick the rest in savings.

Vyra steered clear for the most part but she did hover a bit any time Y/n had a table with a high roller or celebrity. Which, Y/n came to learn that not all celebrities tipped like Harry Styles. In fact, some tipped worse than normies to her shock.

One particularly demanding uber-famous model with her model friends was nice at first. Needed things brought out in a certain order, the wine had to be perfectly chilled or she wouldn’t drink from her glass, and then there was the lighting issue. She and her friends were snapping photos of themselves “eating” and the lights weren’t right.

Their table was full of The Dulcería’s most exclusive and expensive desserts (which the restaurant was famous for) and yet only a few bites were taken after uploading all their photos to Instagram. It was a shame that all of it had to be tossed when their table was cleared. It felt like it should be illegal. Belgian fine chocolate ganache, freshly made lemon curd, berries from the local market selected that very morning, handpicked herbs, candied pistachios, and fresh lavender cream. All that waste for nothing.

The tip that was left after that three-hour debacle was less than 5% of the bill. She assumed the woman who supposedly had many millions of dollars to her name would have given a better tip on a nearly $3,000 tab. Just imagine watching a rich woman clad in designer carrying a purse most people had to get on a waitlist for leaving a $145 tip on a $3,000 tab.

Still, even then, she was bringing in good tips and couldn’t complain often.

Her feet hurt and she smelled like the restaurant through and through at the end of her shifts. If she could have just collapsed into her bed and gone to sleep she would have. But the thought of not showering off first made her skin crawl. She needed the scent of food and spilled wine scrubbed from her pores.

And like she did nearly every night before falling asleep, she checked social media and then checked her dating app to see if there were any hits. Any worthy of a response from her.

One evening she did hear from a man who seemed intriguing. He appeared to be normal and handsome. So she sent him a response and opened up the chat option if he wanted to pursue something.

And the following day at the office she and Jimmy had chatted intermittently. She felt that sweet little familiar bubble of excitement in her tummy when her phone gave her a notification that he’d messaged her.

They made plans to meet up in person on a Wednesday after work at a bar near to her house.

It had been almost two months since she’d seen Harry. He did message her a few weeks prior but there was no call and when she responded he didn’t respond back. She figured it was time to look for something a little more serious. She knew better than to assume she and Harry were endgame. No matter how good the sex and connection were.

She stopped stalking Instagram and googling to find out where he was in the world. It was better for her own mental health to try and move on from him. He had been a fun fling. A great guy. Maybe one of the best “hookups” she’d ever had. Not maybe. He definitely was. He had been kind and thoughtful and fun. And he was great in bed.

But it was time to put that behind her now. A date with a nice, normal guy was in order. She just hoped she could erase the way Harry made her feel and that she wouldn’t compare every guy she tried dating to the pop star.

Jimmy was attractive in person to her delight. He worked downtown not far from where she did and they talked about mundane things like their commute (anyone living in or around LA will understand this is a hot topic), the buildings they worked in, and their jobs. When Y/n revealed she worked as a waitress on the side Jimmy seemed impressed by her even more.

After a few glasses of wine and for Jimmy, beer, they decided to part ways. It had been a good first meetup. Y/n was feeling buzzy and excited. Hopeful.

The chats with Jimmy continued but moved from the app to texts. They had plans to meet up again Monday evening.

Her weekend shift at The Dulcería was like any other. Tips were good. Some of the patrons were just so-so. Vyra was annoying but gave her space. But she was exhausted. She only worked an extra 18 hours a week as a waitress but after a few months, it began to wear on her.

So when Monday came around and she walked to the same bar to meet up with Jimmy she didn’t expect that the text she’d be getting wouldn’t be from her date.

Just as she was pushing through the doors to the bar she looked at her notification screen and nearly dropped her phone.

It was Harry.

She paused by the door for a moment, contemplating whether or not to read the text to see what he wanted or to wait until after her date. She decided on the latter out of respect for Jimmy.

The problem was, though, that Y/n couldn’t get it out of her mind what it was that Harry had texted her. It had been long enough that she figured he’d completely moved on. And was it fair of him to reach out again after all that time?

So, instead of feeling flattered, she started to feel the tiny crawling of annoyance and frustration dragging up her spine.

“I’d like to see you again soon. Maybe we can get dinner next time. Take a walk afterward along the boardwalk or something?” Jimmy said as he hugged Y/n goodbye before they went their separate ways.

“That sounds great. I’m free Sunday night if you want to do it then. Kind of hard most Fridays and Saturdays,” she shrugged as she felt Jimmy squeeze her hand.

“Sunday night sounds perfect. Can I pick you up?”

. . .

Hey, how are you? Miss you.

She read the text over and over again. That was all it said but why? Why send it? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t be allowed to text her. He had her number. They’d slept together a couple of times and had gotten to know one another beyond just surfacey stuff. But still.

Instead of texting him back, she decided to leave him on read. She needed time to figure out how to respond. What to say, or if she should say anything. Maybe she should just leave it so he got the hint about what was going on. That she didn’t want to open up that chapter again and get herself hurt. Because she would get her heart broken by Harry if she let herself get lost in it.

And it wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong at all. It was clear that what had happened between them had just been casual. Good, fun sex. So responding to him wouldn’t have been weird but there was a part of her that felt like maybe he’d dug his way into her heart a little more than she was ready to admit. If she was taking his innocent text so seriously and pondering it so deeply, perhaps there was more to it. Which meant she needed to let it go for her own good.

So she did leave him on read. But more for her sake than his she figured.

. . .

Harry couldn’t understand why she hadn’t responded. He could see that she’d read the text. But why not respond? He wondered if this meant she’d moved on. Maybe she’d seen that post from his ex and figured he was on his way to getting back with her somehow amidst all the rumors.

He was aware of how things were between himself and Y/n. He’d given in and fucked his own rule to not sleep with someone who was supposed to be a one-time thing more than once. To go back for more. But when he saw her that night at the restaurant he felt like somehow it was fate. Not like a deep sort of forever kind of fate, but more like a this is okay to indulge in more than once kind of fate. He usually didn’t like doing that but with Y/n it felt different. And she was hot. And funny. And the way she handled him in bed had definitely left a mark on him. She wasn’t just a fan or a casual sex partner. She wasn’t just some girl.

So that’s why he texted her. He was coming back to LA in a couple of weeks. Figured they could see one another again and have some fun. But maybe that was the problem. She was more than just fun for a night. He liked her a lot. And perhaps she was feeling something similar and needed to put that distance there so she didn’t get hurt. Harry could understand that.

While he was away he had one of his good friends along with him. He liked to have someone he trusted, which was rare in his world. He had a hard time trusting most people. She was easygoing and didn’t want anything from him sexually so she was a perfect confidant and companion to have traveling with him. It was nice to have friends like her. Something that didn’t need to be anything but friendly. Someone that he could joke around with and not worry much about being on his best behavior with.

She even gave him great advice about Y/n and then his ex after the disaster of her Instagram post. He knew he’d been snapped with her as he was out and about. On walks, in restaurants, in group settings. There were of course the usual rumors that they were dating but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He imagined that Y/n had seen the photos of him walking with the girl next to him. Plus the post from his ex wasn’t helping matters. Maybe it had all been too much for Y/n? Or maybe he was overthinking it all. He wasn’t quite ready to give up but he’d let her be until he returned.

. . .

Jimmy took Y/n to a cute little Mexican spot Sunday night and they ordered margaritas and Baja tacos with guacamole and cactus salad.

And Jimmy looked extra attractive that evening. She hadn’t noticed before then that his forearms were so thick. He had a sweater on that he’d pushed up to his elbows baring his arms. A bit of scruff on his face. And he smelled nice.

She felt like maybe they’d had enough dates and had gotten to know one another well enough that going back to his place might be fun. She wouldn’t mind a fun romp in the sack with him.

So when they walked back to Jimmy’s car she decided to go out on a limb, “Would you… what do you think about maybe going back to your place together? Or mine? I was thinking we could kind of relax and continue our conversation a bit?”

Jimmy opened the passenger door for her to let her into his car, “Oh. Yeah! Absolutely. Whichever place is better for you. It’s up to you. Mine or yours.”

And because Y/n wanted to do more than just “continue their conversation” she figured his place was best since Brad was probably home. The last time she had a man in her bed was Harry and Brad hinted at having heard them the next day. Not something she wanted to repeat nor subject poor Brad to again.

Jimmy lived in a one-bedroom apartment. He had no roommates which was ideal.

“So, I just want to tell you that right now I’m not looking for a serious relationship. I still have my profile up and kind of chatting with another girl but it hasn’t gone anywhere. I think once we get to know one another a little more maybe we can talk about being exclusive. Does that sound okay?”

She appreciated Jimmy’s honesty. And she was glad that he told her before they’d gotten any further. Because they were both sitting on his couch and making out heavily. In fact, her hand was already slowly making its way up his thigh when he stopped her to come clean.

She paused and thought for a moment. Was that okay? She began to nod and turned her gaze back to her date, “Thank you for telling me. And yeah… I think I can agree to that. Let’s just keep being honest with one another like this and I think it’ll be really good,” she leaned in when Jimmy grinned at her answer and she climbed over his lap, not ready to stop the direction they were already headed.

And just as she’d intended when she left the restaurant with Jimmy they had sex after clearing the air about their status.

It was good. She liked having sex. She didn’t do it a lot. Maybe she’d have one or two a year at most. Hopefully, Jimmy would be someone she could keep around. She hated dating and finding someone she could trust.

Jimmy didn’t get her off, though. He tried. He ate her out, which she was already very pleased with. Not all men would go down on a woman without having to be prompted. Jimmy was eager.

But when that didn’t get her off she told him to get a condom so they could have sex.

Again, he was eager. Quite good really. But as was typical for having sex with anyone for the first time, she didn’t come. She was nice and wet and super turned on but it just didn’t happen.

She didn’t mind much. He did hit some really good spots that made her moan and got her close a few times. He tried rubbing her clit to get her off before he could come but it didn’t do it for her. She guided his fingers over her the way she liked but he needed time to figure out her body a little. Nothing wrong with that at all.

And he knew she didn’t come. He was disappointed in himself when he pumped into his condom and groaned in his orgasm. He apologized profusely and tried to eat her out again but she was tired. They’d been going at it for a while because his goal was to make her come.

“It’s okay. Really. Jimmy, you’re so good. It’s always like this the first time for me. I had so much fun with you.” She cupped his jaw.

While what she was saying was mostly true, she couldn’t stop imagining how Harry had gotten her off his first time. And the second time and the following morning before he left. She tried to swallow down those thoughts and not let that interrupt her moment with Jimmy but she couldn’t help it. Harry’s moves were just better and his dirty talk and his body. And his cock. And him.

She closed her eyes to squeeze out that image from her mind. There was nothing wrong with Jimmy’s body or his dick. He was fine. She was sure that after some work he’d be getting her off soon enough. They’d eventually get very comfortable with one another and sex would be better and she’d orgasm easier.

Really at the end of the day she wanted to feel close with someone. And she got exactly that with Jimmy. He pulled her into his chest and they fell asleep in his bed. She might have not gotten her orgasm but she got the connection and closeness she’d been craving and missing.

. . .

The following week they skipped going out for a date altogether and Jimmy cooked for her at his place. He was a pretty romantic person. A genuinely nice guy. Handsome, funny, smart. But their second time having sex was not different from the first. Y/n was sure she’d come and had gotten close a few times but it still just didn’t happen.

And for the first time in her life ever, she faked it. She felt she had to. The poor guy was suffering. He was hammering into her and grunting and shaking, continually pulling out before he could release. For nearly half an hour that was the scene.

He tried holding her legs to the side and thrusting into her as he hovered over her but she needed something more, she was sure. Her own fingers at her clit and his cock slipping in and out just didn’t do the job. So she got on all fours and Jimmy’s bed creaked and bounced and it felt really good. Just not good enough.

Finally, when she rode him she felt that yummy gooey thing she always got just before coming but the moment she began to quiver and just before she could come Jimmy’s words halted any further gooeyness, “Finally, fuck!”

That had done it. She wasn’t going to come. He didn’t mean it to be rude, she was sure. Jimmy was the sweetest guy, truly. But that little bit was all she needed and her orgasm was ruined. So when she felt him throbbing in his condom she moaned and clenched and did all the stupid acting a porn star would to fake her orgasm.

For him to say finally in response to thinking she was coming. Really? That had irked her. She wished he hadn’t said that.

But it didn’t deter her. She really did like the guy. And surely the third time would be the charm. Except it wasn’t. The following morning he ate her out and then they had sex and he got off while she faked it again. She had to get going anyway because it was Monday morning and she had to be at the office.

It felt good to be dating someone. Even if it was casual. Jimmy had mentioned he hadn’t seen anyone else, but she didn’t miss it when he said “yet”. And part of her preferred it casual with Jimmy. Liked that her options were still open for the time being. But it did feel good to be in a relationship of sorts. Felt nice to know that someone liked her enough to keep texting her and seeing her and wanted to sleep with her. It felt grownup. That’s what she wanted. Connection. Relationship. And that’s what Jimmy gave her. In due time they would be more sexually compatible. She was sure.

On Friday night at the restaurant, she was given a couple of large groups. They were relatively nice. Perfectly well-behaved groups. Jimmy had been texting her all night. He was hoping to see her and have her stay over until the following morning before she had to be at work.

She hadn’t decided if she would or not. She sort of wanted to sleep her morning away before needing to be on her feet all night again. And she figured she could use her dildo and make herself come because she was sure Jimmy couldn’t. She knew that he wanted to have sex with her and at that point it just sounded exhausting. Now every time they got together the night ended with sex and a failed orgasm on her part. She didn’t know if something was wrong with her or if maybe she wasn’t as compatible with Jimmy as she thought. But she knew one thing. He wasn’t getting her off like she needed. And her feelings about that were giving her pause. She wondered if she was just settling for casual dates with Jimmy. Wondering if Harry had ruined her for anyone else.

So when she was suddenly interrupted coming out of the kitchen to check on one of her tables she jumped at his voice. It had been unexpected.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” She looked around and the bustling restaurant and then back up at the handsome man. Her body tingled at his presence and she got that lightheaded excitedness that she felt every time she saw him. And she realized that that was something she never experienced with Jimmy.

“I just wanted to say hi. You hadn’t texted me back the last time I reached out and I’m here for dinner right now and saw you walking back and forth. Just wanted to see how you are.”

She didn’t realize Harry had been there. Usually, the servers would mention any time anyone famous came in.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m well. Just… gosh I’ve been really busy. How have you been? I didn’t know you were back.” She decided not to address the fact that she hadn’t responded to his text nearly a month ago.

“I’m great. Been back in LA for almost a week. Missed you.”

Missed you. Yeah, she missed him too if she were honest. But she’d been pushing it all down. Covering up her feelings with Jimmy.

“That’s… I uh… missed you too.” She didn’t know what else to say. Out loud anyway. Internally she was telling him all about how the guy she’d been dating was super sweet but terrible in bed. Well, not terrible. But not Harry. And he didn’t make her feel all floaty and full of syrup and butterflies and anticipation the way Harry did. How she was having trouble connecting with Jimmy the way she could with Harry. God, how she’d love to have another round with him again. Feel that yummy stretch he gave her, that sharp deep poke, listen to his deep voice in her ear as he coaxed her through an orgasm that had her shaking and slobbering into the sheets.

“Yeah? Maybe I can see you after? I’ll stick around til you get off.”

Her mind was playing tricks on her. Til you get off. Yeah, she knew that would happen if she allowed him to stick around. She’d get off all right. He’d see to it. She should say no. Should tell him she’s seeing someone. It’s not serious but she shouldn’t do that to Jimmy. But then again…

“Okay. Yeah. I’d like that. Should be done here in an hour and a half. Is that okay?”

“F’course. I’ll be here.”

She felt immediate guilt. Jimmy didn’t deserve to be put on the back burner. He was too sweet. And there was nothing wrong with him. Sex wasn’t amazing but it wasn’t bad and eventually, she’d get used to him and she’d orgasm with him. Surely. Right? But the biggest thing that nagged at her was the way she felt around Harry. Just having him standing before her and speaking to her had her feeling things she realized she never felt with Jimmy. Maybe Jimmy wasn’t a good match for her.

And she and Jimmy weren’t exclusive. That had been made clear at the beginning. Jimmy did say that he wasn’t ready to be serious with anyone and that he wanted to get to know her for a while before any commitments were made. So it wasn’t like she was actually doing anything wrong. And it wasn’t as if Harry was asking her to have sex with him. Not by any means. Perhaps it was just to chat. To just catch up.

. . .

It was most definitely not just to chat. But of course, she knew that. Harry had her in his bed nearly the minute they walked into his huge mansion. It was the first time she’d been to his place and she barely had a moment to look around before he was dragging her to his master suite. They’d made out the entire way from the restaurant to his place in the back of the car. She couldn’t help it. It was like magic between them. Like fate. Like they were meant to be. She felt powerless to it.

“God I missed you,” he whispered into her neck as he gripped the back of her head, “Have never kissed anyone with softer lips.”

She was wet nearly instantly. Jimmy had to work hard to get her in the state she was with Harry after only five minutes of a hot, backseat makeout session.

In his room, she pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees. She needed to see him. Needed to dig her nails into his thick, masculine thighs. She panted as she leaned in and pressed her lips over his tiger tattoo and ran her hands upward to cup his bulge.

Harry watched her from her position on her knees before him and finally felt like he was home. There was something about this girl that he couldn’t shake. He had missed her. And the whole reason he had gone to The Dulcería that night was to see her.

So he was surprised when she so easily said yes to seeing him after work. Surprised when she flirted with him and responded to his touch with touches of her own. Surprised when she kissed him in the back seat of the cab and now more than anything, was pleased by the direction the night was going.

He decided before he even saw her that night that he wanted to make her his. Wanted it to be official. He could see himself getting serious with her. Saw himself bringing her with him everywhere. Falling in love. The whole nine.

Her lips sucked and pulled at his cock and it was better than he remembered. There was certainly nothing like the real thing when it came to getting head and Harry had been doing a lot of imagining over the months. He’d missed her warmth and her eyes. Her wet lips slipping over his shaft.

She coughed and gurgled around him as she sat back for a breath and stroked him in her hand. He brushed his fingers along her temple to move her hair from her face and she was already looking up at him. Her top had been unbuttoned and he had a view of her big tits held in by her bra and her soft eyes looking up at him with his cock in her hand.

“Fuck, angel. Missed you so much.”

She smiled and leaned in with her pink tongue sticking out before licking over his balls, gently kissing and sucking at the skin. He moaned as she moved upward over his shaft and to his crown before popping him back into her mouth.

Another good gag had Harry pulling her up, “Darling, take your clothes off,” he said through soft breaths as he pulled his shirt off and kicked his pants down the rest of the way off his legs.

She removed her work outfit and could smell the restaurant on herself, “I should like, shower or something. I smell like kitchen and food…”

Harry dragged her into his arms and stepped her back toward the bed, “Just like you are. I need you now.” He spoke against her lips.

She was pushed into his bed, her naked body under his with his soft mouth drinking her in. His lips moved from her jaw to her neck and suckled at her tits for a while before he got down to business slurping away at her cunt.

Yes. Okay. That was good. Harry was good. And she knew it wasn’t just because he was so skilled. No. She realized that it was because of the way she felt for Harry. Her heart thundered in her chest wildly as she yanked his hair and ground her pussy into his face. Harry sucked and kissed and fingered wetly as he moaned into flesh. It was everything. Harry was everything.

When she splashed a bit on his face from her orgasm Harry sat back with a laugh as he massaged the inside of her thighs. She forced herself to open her eyes to look at him. He was breathing heavily, his chest flushed pink, his cock thickened and erect. Ready to be pressed right into her sloppy pussy.

He had a hand at his base as he smoothed his weepy tip through her hot and sticky crease. He small whine fell from his lips before he got up to grab a condom. He would have loved to have just fucked her raw but they’d need to talk about all that first. And they’d barely done any talking that evening.

She pushed herself up to her elbows to watch Harry as he stood next to the bed and looked down at his girthy cock, sliding the condom over himself. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her again. At long last.

His strong body was insane. She’d never get over it. Wanted to drag her tongue over every inch and drink up his sweat and taste the salt in her mouth. God, he made her insatiable.

Harry kneed up to her on the bed, his heavy condom-covered dick swaying until he pulled her toward him and planted his lips onto hers. Soft and sensuous. The way he kissed her was enough to call it all off Jimmy. It had her head spinning and her tummy doing somersaults. Never something Jimmy had accomplished in their couple of months of dating.

He was breathing hard as he backed from the kiss and looked over her bare body, “I needed this so bad. God… You have no idea how much I missed you, Y/n.”

She really didn’t know. Because she imagined he was getting plenty of ass while he’d been away.

Harry laid her down on the bed, her back flat on the mattress as he leaned over her frame and attached his lips to her breasts one at a time. She could feel his cock dragging over her as he moved from one nipple to the other.

He felt her buck upward under him and he smiled as he popped off her nipple and looked down at her, “Need something, angel?”

She nodded with a grin, “Your cock. Please.”

Harry groaned and thumbed over moistened nipples before grasping his shaft with one hand and planting his palm down onto the mattress to hold himself up over her.

“Yeah? Please? You missed me, angel?”

“Oh my god…” she moaned as she felt his tip press against her entrance, “Yes. Oh my god, I missed you.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches so he could watch as he entered her. It was his favorite view. The way she spread open, the tight little snap of him entering her clenching muscle, how nicely she took all of him. He pushed in and pulled back, wetting himself as he inched in further and further. She was sopping and had coated his condom in her drippy juices. He moaned as he dipped in deeper and watched her mouth drop open in relief at the feel of him stuffing her pussy.

When he’d gotten in balls deep he sighed, “Oh fuck, angel. I’m gonna treat you so good.” And he didn’t just mean while he was fucking her. He meant it in every way one could. He was going to treat her exactly as she deserved.

When he began to thrust in and out with long and languid strokes, the poke into her belly was toe-curling. She’d missed the way his cock felt and missed him. Missed him more than anything.

The patting of their skin slapping together wetly sounded as good as it felt. Harry moaned and Y/n gasped. He was deep. It was as if he’d somehow grown in size since he’d been away but she was sure it was just because Harry was Harry. She liked his dick but she just really liked him.

Harry had a nice grip on her thighs to keep them spread so he could have an unobstructed image of what he was doing to her, “God your little hole is just taking me, baby…” he groaned.

She peered up at him, his abs and his thighs flexing as he worked himself into her steadily. Every time he plunged in he nudged himself into her with a quick buck at the end to push himself as far in as he could get, causing her to jolt upward and whimper at the ache.

“Your cock… oh god Harry…” she didn’t know what she was trying to say. Except maybe just that she was really enjoying him. A compliment to how good he felt. How good he was.

Harry rhythmically rocked into her and released one of her thighs to use his thumb on her clit. He softly smoothed his pad over her sticky and aroused nub and she gasped. Harry grinned at her as she reached down to feel the mess they were making, her fingers slipping next to his and then lower, to feel where his cock was sliding in and out, spreading her pussy apart, the wet hair at his base, his balls as they nudged into her when he buried himself in.

“My cock? Yeah? That feel good inside you?”

“Yes, fuck… your gonna make me come so hard,” she moaned her words as she kept her fingers held against the spot where he was pushing into her, slick and creamy.

“Feel that? Feel how wet you get for me? How hard you make me?” He sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers glided along his balls and he stilled his hips, grinding himself into her. She was forced to move her fingers back up to her clit as Harry grasped her hips and pulled her over him so she could feel just how deep he was.

“God I wish I could fuck you without a condom. Come inside of your sweet cunt and fill you up like you deserve.”

She moaned at his words and the way he was buried inside of her guts. Her eyes fluttered closed as she continued to finger over her clit. That sounded exactly like what she wanted too. Wanted to feel him pouring into her and then watch it leak out slowly as he stuffed it back in with his tip.

“Oh my god, Harry. That sounds good…” She looked down at where his pelvis was pasted to hers as he circled his hips into her.

“Yeah? Gonna make you mine, baby and then I’m gonna fuck you raw and come inside of you over and over again. You want that?”

Nodding her head, she had a pained, fucked-out expression on her face, “Yess…” she panted.

Harry leaned over her body, not able to resist kissing her any longer. He needed his mouth on hers immediately.

The quick change of position had Y/n gasping as Harry shifted over her and pressed his lips to hers. The smooth strokes of his cock started up again as he planted his mouth over hers and licked against her tongue.

Intimate. That’s what it was. Harry was intimate but it felt especially real. Especially meaningful. She tried not to think about how soft and loving he was being with her because it felt so much like what someone would do if he was in love.

But then suddenly he took her hand and wound his fingers into hers, pressing their joined hands into the bed next to the pillow her head was on, as he continued thrusting and kissing. That gesture totally tipped her mind into that place she didn’t want to go. That place that told her he was just as into her as she was into him. That he wanted her and only her.

She bent her knees and planted her feet flat, lifting her hips upward each time he pushed in. It was wet and hot between them. Harry’s body over hers was solid and strong as he fucked into her with everything he had. She felt it too. Felt him put his whole body into each thrust.

Their hands stayed wound together tightly as Harry licked into her mouth. They parted only for gasps of air and to let out whimpers and moans.

“Please, Y/n…” Harry whispers against her lips before opening his mouth over hers and smoothing them together, closing his mouth around her tongue and then pressing his tongue passed her lips. She wanted to ask him why he said please but her brain was scrambled and focused on the way their bodies moved together. How good he felt. How good she felt.

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. She was certain Harry could hear it too. His pelvis stayed pressed into her clit and each time he stuffed himself into the hilt he undulated his hips as she tilted her own pelvis into him.

“Oh fuck!” She cried when Harry hit something inside of her that made her body tingle. She’d felt nothing like it before but she was sure it wasn’t just something physical he was nudging into. It was something emotional. She was doomed to his charm. Doomed to fall for him whether she wanted to or not. But how could she not?

Harry pushed himself up, his hands still wrapped around hers, “Okay, angel?” His soft, beautiful eyes would haunt her. Dark lashes and a dark limbal ring that lined his already perfect shade of green…

“It just… it feels so good, Harry. You’re making me feel so good,” she panted her words.

Harry dragged his gaze from her eyes down to her tits, “Want you to ride me, okay? Want to see how you fuck yourself on me.”

Nodding her head Harry slid himself out with a soft hiss as he grasped his cock and watched the tiniest bit of liquid gush from her pussy. She’d only gotten wetter as he fucked her.

Harry took her hand and brought it to his lips, “What are you doing to me, Y/n?”

She sat up as they kept their eyes locked and Harry grasped the back of her neck and kissed her again. They sat in the middle of his massive bed, both on their knees, naked and kissing urgently until Harry sat back and pulled Y/n with him, dragging her body over his, never letting their lips part.

She straddled his lap as he grasped her hips and pressed her wet cunt to his impossibly hard erection. When he’d finally laid his back into the mattress she placed her palms over his pecs and felt his hands at her ass, guiding her up so she could put him back in as quickly as possible.

Letting her fingertips travel over his chest, feeling the hair on her palm, the sturdy muscle under his soft skin, she scraped lightly and leaned down to lick his nipple. She smiled when he moaned and as badly as she wanted to have his cock back inside of her she needed to show her affection to his gorgeous body. At least a little.

Moving her lips to his other side she licked over his pebbled nippled and looked up at his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was dropped open. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as she nipped with her teeth gently.

Harry groaned and opened his eyes, lifting his head to watch her work over him with her teeth and her tongue, “Fuck, baby.”

Y/n grinned and lifted her mouth from his skin, “Harry, your body is fucking incredible. I could lick and kiss it all day long.”

With her eyes on his she leaned down and stuck out her pink tongue to drag up from the underside of his peck up to his other nipple. She pulled it into her mouth and scraped her teeth over it before kissing it. She dotted warm pecks upward to his clavicle and licked as she went.

Harry’s whimpers grew desperate as he watched her lick and kiss his skin. But he needed to have her on him. His cock was aching and with the sweet and adoring attention she was giving him with her tongue and her lips he was going mad.

Harry grasped her hips and the pathetic whine that fell from his throat had her peeking up at him again, “Please, angel. I need you to fuck me.”

And well, that was all it took. He had said please after all. She lined up herself over his tip and began to sink over him, her pelvis tilted into him, “Okay, baby. I’ll fuck you now. God I need you too…” they moaned loudly as she slid over him until her pussy lips were kissing the very base of his cock.

She kept her hands pressed to his chest as she gently rocked herself over him. Harry moved her up and down slowly, keeping his hands on her bottom, and watched her pretty face contort at the feel of him splitting her pussy apart on his big cock.

“God you’re already creaming all over baby. So fucking wet I can hear it.” Harry spoke through gritted teeth. He loved the way she looked on top, her tits gently jiggling at each roll of her hips, her wet mouth dropped open, her eyes fluttering open and closed in ecstasy.

“You make me so wet, Harry. No one gets me wet like you. I need you…” she groaned as she bucked her hips down over him.

“Yeah? Need me, baby? I can tell…” he gasped when she clenched over him, “Can tell by the way you’re fucking yourself on me. Gonna get yourself off on my cock, angel?”

Y/n keened when Harry lifted his hips up the tiniest bit, forcing his cock deeper yet. A delicious sting.

“Harry… fuck!”

Harry breathed in a shaky breath and pulled at her elbow to bring her body down toward his. He wanted more contact. Wanted her closer. Wanted to kiss her as they both released together because he could tell she was nearly there.

The moment her lips were pressed to his he bent his knees slightly and tilted his pelvis upward so he could thrust into her as she fucked herself down onto him. Wet squelches and soft gasps surrounded them as they kept their bodies connected, on edge, trembling.

One of Harry’s hands smoothed down to her bottom while he took his other to bring her fingers into his. He wanted it sensual, erotic, soft, lusty. There was something about fucking Y/n and having his lips on hers and her hand in his that was making his heart swell with affection. He’d never have enough of her.

She shivered over him and he knew it wasn’t because she was cold. There was no way her body was cold with the way they had been going at it. No. He knew her shiver was because she felt it. Felt what he was. Knew this was it for them.

Her breasts were smushed into Harry’s chest and her thighs were squeezing around him as she continued pushing herself down over him. Her small hand in his with her fingers threaded between his was warm.

“Shit… you coming baby?” Harry felt her limbs tense and the tight muscle at her entrance grip around his cock in pulses.

“Fuck… yess! Fuck!” She couldn’t stop her orgasm from finding its way to the surface. She hadn’t expected it to burst out of her so quickly but having her hand surrounded by his while his cock was buried inside of her was not a casual sex move and that notion alone had her spinning out of control.

He was holding her hand and kissing the edge of her mouth through it all and now that she was coming around him, he squeezed her hand tighter and whispered to her through her orgasm, “There you go, angel. Made for me, aren’t you? My good girl…” she writhed and whimpered in her climax and he could tell it felt good. Could tell she was getting what she deserved.

Harry let her spasm around him for a moment longer until he couldn’t hold on for another second. He lifted his hips and gasped as he spurt into his condom. Gushes of hot come filling the rubber tip as he throbbed inside of her.

She felt his prick pump against her slick walls as he came. His breath was caught in his throat as he released into his condom. The grasp he had on her hand was locked down hard. She would have complained that it hurt but the last thing she wanted to do was have him release her in any way. She always wanted this with him. The closeness, the intimacy. The insane connection they had.

When Harry finally filled his lungs with air and his face relaxed her felt her slumped into his chest. He loosened his grip on her hand but didn’t let go. He wouldn’t let go. Never.

She’d passed out. Simply exhausted after Harry had handled her body like he owned it. Exhausted after giving every inch of his body her attention and love because damn did he deserve it. He was breathtaking. The man deserved to be worshipped. He was stunning and the way he gave himself to her was mind-blowing.

. . .

Blinking her eyes open the morning light was barely peeking through the window. It must have been super early. He was still asleep next to her. Hair a mess, cheeks smushed, small breaths puffed out from his mouth (he slept with his mouth opened she learned after the few times they’d slept together).

She was feeling something deeper for Harry than she wanted. The guilt about ignoring Jimmy and going home with another man was eating at her. Jimmy didn’t deserve that. He was a nice guy. A normal guy. But Harry was different. And it wasn’t just because he was hot and famous. It was because they understood one another in a way that she didn’t know if she’d ever get to with Jimmy. And that didn’t feel great.

Especially because Harry was… well he was Harry Styles. Falling for him would be dangerous and she’d have her heart broken. She could fall for him too. Another round of sex like they’d had the night before and it would be over for her. She’d tip over the edge of no return and need him in a way he’d never need her. She might just have to settle for Jimmy in that case. Perhaps that would really be as good as it could get for her.

Slowly slipping out of his bed she went to the bathroom with her phone.

She powered it back on and cringed when she had a couple of missed notifications from Jimmy. Not only had she kind of betrayed his trust and slept with someone else after he asked her to come over, but she wasn’t totally honest with Harry either. Hadn’t told him about the guy she’d been dating. A guy she was working on getting to know and could see herself dating long-term. Well, she could have seen Jimmy as someone long-term had it not been for Harry being so goddamn perfect.

Could she see herself with Harry long-term? She could actually but the reality was he probably didn’t see her in the same way. She chalked up his words and the intimacy with him just being a very sensual and sexual and vulnerable man. He was probably that way with everyone he slept with. She didn’t want to assume it was because he liked her just as much as she liked him.

Splashing her face with water she sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. She knew what she needed to do. To protect herself. To make things right.

She needed to go home and tell Jimmy everything. And then she needed to decide if she could see herself being exclusive with Jimmy or not. Could she settle? She’d let Harry get under her skin. She didn’t know how he’d done it so fast but maybe it was just his natural charm. Whatever it was, she knew Harry would be okay. Knew it was unlikely that he felt anything close to how she was feeling.

Her Uber driver arrived faster than she thought. She rushed out of Harry’s bedroom, down the stairs, and out the door, before she even had time to write a little note. She fully intended on doing that but it was too late. It was time to put it all behind her. Maybe this was going to get Harry out of her system once and for all.

But she could be dumb at times.

. . .

Instead of coming clean to Jimmy right away, she broke down the moment she got into her bedroom. She regretted everything. The way she handled Jimmy. The way she gave in to Harry. The way she left Harry without saying goodbye.

What was she thinking? She was too young to be going through a midlife crisis but she was at an age where she needed to grow up and start making big girl decisions. Settle down with a good man. Jimmy was surely that man. A normal guy. Someone in her league. But maybe she so easily gave in to Harry because Jimmy still had his dating profile active and that stayed with her in the back of her mind. Their casual dating relationship meant they were allowed to see who they wanted.

But Harry was… There was something there. Something else that she didn’t have with Jimmy. That she wasn’t sure she’d ever have. But that was why she needed to cut it out with the famous man. He was famous. He was exceptional in so many ways and there was simply no way he’d feel for her what she felt for him. He was too good to be true.

The messages from both men continued through the day. She shut her phone off when she got to work. She just couldn't face it. Couldn’t deal with it. Tomorrow. She’d figure it out tomorrow. Explain everything to Jimmy and to Harry. Harry would be okay. She knew he would be. He’d probably felt relief that she didn’t stay in fact. Made it easier for him so he didn’t have to break it to her that that should be their last time together. Though, she hadn’t read any of the messages he sent (she simply couldn’t bring herself to) she was sure he would be the easy one to deal with. Jimmy, though… She hoped he’d forgive her. But she knew she needed to call it off with Jimmy as well. Nice enough, a great guy for just about anyone. But maybe not for her. Especially not when she couldn’t stop comparing him to Harry. So she’d made up her mind. She’d call Jimmy the following day and sort things out with him. Tell him they had a good run and then that would be that.

But sometimes things in life don’t always go as one imagines. Do they?

With her phone shut off, she had missed the calls and the subsequent texts from both men. She had not realized that they’d both texted her that they were going to be waiting for her at her house when she got home because they needed to talk. She had not imagined pulling up to her little rented bungalow to see three men standing in her front yard.

There was Brad, mediating the whole scene, standing between the two men she’d been ignoring for the entirety of the day.

Then there was Jimmy with a red face and posture that told her he was feeling quite insecure about something. Of which she was sure she had a good idea.

And there was Harry. Pacing. With his hands in his hair and his mouth moving as he said something that had him excited.

The three men suddenly stopped as she pulled in front of the house. All three sets of eyes on her. She had been avoiding simply responding to them. Assuming she’d have time to get her thoughts together. But now she had no choice. She was being forced to confront them.

Harry began to walk toward her car first. But then Jimmy followed too. Both men spoke to one another animatedly as she opened the door.

“Nahh… back off man,” Harry spoke to Jimmy but kept his eyes toward Y/n.

“No. I’m not going to back off…” Jimmy quickened his pace when he noticed she’d gotten out of her car.

“Y/n…” Brad spoke over the two bickering adults, “You probably have some explaining to do to these two. Do you mind taking over here?”

“I… yeah. Of course. I’m so sorry, Brad.” She looked between the three men as Brad waved and walked back into the house.

Jimmy’s face was bright red, “Y/n, tell him we’ve been dating. He seems to think you are his girlfriend.”

Looking at Harry she opened her mouth to respond but stopped at the insinuation that Harry implied she was his girlfriend.

Girlfriend?

Stepping into her yard Harry stood in front of her and then Jimmy next to him both men looking at her in question.

“Uh… I’m… I don’t know what to say. I’ve been dating Jimmy,” she gestured at the man and looked at Harry, “but we’re not exclusive, and then… Well, I saw Harry last night,” she stuttered her words. Her heart was pounding. She was not looking like a good person in this situation. But it was too late now.

“I don’t care that you were dating someone. What happened between us last night… that meant something to you. Didn’t it?” Harry spoke as he gently brushed his fingers against hers, a little spark of life, a signal that he was there and she was safe with him.

She was a bit stunned by all this. Hadn’t expected Harry to say that. Hadn’t expected to see both men in her yard, apparently arguing over her.

“But we’ve been dating for almost 2 months. I think she and I have something special. And I know we haven’t specifically said we were exclusive but–“

“Well, I’ve known her for nearly… what 5, 6 months now?” Harry looked at her as he spoke.

Y/n stood still looking from Harry to Jimmy who continued, “So what is it? Are you with me or are you with him? I didn’t know you were dating someone else.” He was flustered. In comparison to Harry, he was not calm nor gentle.

“I… I’m sorry,” She shook her head and felt her face grow hot and her head dizzy. She was embarrassed.

There wasn’t anything else to say. Except that she was sorry. She really had liked Jimmy. But with the way she folded so fast with Harry, she knew she didn’t like Jimmy as much as she assumed. Because all Harry had to do was say a few nice things to her to get her back to his place and in his bed. She was a weak bitch. What could she say except sorry?

“Look. I’m sorry. Both of you. I have some explaining to do and I was going to… but why are you both here?”

“I came here to talk about this morning with you, Y/n. You left without goodbye and didn’t respond to my texts,” Harry spoke first.

“And you didn’t text me back last night when I thought we were making plans. I was worried about you.”

Blinking her eyes she realized without a doubt, that she was the heavy here. The rotten one. This was all her fuckup. Both men came to find her because she’d blown them both off. Ran away from her problems.

But she fully intended on being truthful. She just needed a minute.

“Fuck.” She cursed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was going to talk to you both. I just… I don’t know. I felt bad that I flaked out on you, Jimmy. I was never going to meet up with you last night after work and I should have told you that off the bat. And I was going to tell you but then I saw Harry and… I just felt guilty so I figured I’d apologize later.”

“That’s… kind of fucked up, Y/n,” Jimmy said as he put his hands on his hips.

She nodded and looked at him. He was upset, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“And so you didn’t want to come see me last night because of him?” He gestured toward the man standing to his left.

Shaking her head she looked from Jimmy to Harry, “No. Before I even realized Harry was at the restaurant for dinner I planned on just going back home after my shift. I just never got around to telling you that. I didn’t want to see you last night.”

“But you went back to Harry’s house?” Jimmy asked.

She sighed, nodding, “Yes. I didn’t plan on it. It just happened.”

The silence was all-consuming. Y/n didn’t want to look at Jimmy’s disappointed face any longer so she glanced at Harry whose energy was opposite of Jimmy's. He was all soft eyes with a gentle expression. Comforting. She smiled at him. He felt safe.

“Okay. Fair enough,” Jimmy spoke suddenly, “So that’s it? Should I expect to hear from you again or…” he shrugged and looked at her hoping to hear something that gave him anything to hang on to.

Should he expect to hear from her? She liked him. She really did. But she could see it now that she didn’t like him enough. Even if perhaps she and Harry didn’t wind up together, the way she fell into Harry’s bed so easily and the way she lit up at Harry’s smile in that moment. The way he made her feel… it was over with Jimmy. She’d never feel that way with him.

“I think that’s it. Yeah. I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m not sure what I was thinking but… I think this has run its course. I’m sorry,” she shook her head at the whole situation. She felt awful. Jimmy had been nothing but kind. But she just wasn’t feeling it she guessed. Not when she was feeling so much more with Harry.

She watched Jimmy walk away to his car and felt Harry’s hands pull at hers, “It meant something. Didn’t it?”

Looking up at the tall man in confusion she responded, “What?”

“Last night. I know you left without saying anything but now I get it. You were feeling guilty about that bloke. Right?”

Swallowing thickly she nodded, “Yeah… I just… I don’t know why I went back with you but it felt natural and this morning I was overwhelmed with guilt and didn’t really know what you wanted. You know?” She raised her brows and continued, “You’re… you. You’re Harry Styles. I’m just… me. Felt like I was playing some silly game with myself that was just gonna get me hurt.”

Harry’s hands cupped her face softly, “No games. I like you a lot. Couldn’t stay away from you. Last night felt like the beginning of something really special and I hoped you felt it too.”

She stayed silent as she looked into his eyes. His warm hands on her skin felt soft and tender. His thumbs grazed her cheekbones and she felt it. She did. She knew exactly what he meant. To hear him say it, though…

“I need to know what that means for you. Because, yeah. I felt it. I just don’t want to get hurt, Harry. You’re gonna go back on tour and you’ll see your ex and some other woman and I’m gonna get left behind again–“

“My ex? I didn’t see my ex. Nor do I have plans for that,” he laughed softly as he spoke.

“Well, I mean… I did see her post about crossing paths with someone and that cross necklace,” she shook her head and felt silly for even bringing it up as she looked at the expression on Harry’s face.

“She called me and I answered. She thought that meant something but really it was just me being nice. I don’t miss her at all. Have no intention of seeing her again on any level.”

She nodded at his words, “And the pretty woman that was with you on tour. Lots of rumors there too. Which is fine! You’re totally allowed to see other–“

Harry pulled her in close, stopping her mid-sentence, “She’s a friend. Someone I trust who I can vent to and confide in. She gave me lots of advice about you, angel. Told me to go after you. Told me she hadn’t seen me so excited about anyone ever before. I couldn’t stop talking about you.”

“So, you never slept with her?”

Harry shook his head and fit his fingers between hers, blinking softly, “Never. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Now she felt really bad. He’d been missing her and thinking of her all the while she was off with Jimmy trying to erase Harry from her mind, “I had no idea. I’m sorry that I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I admit, I didn’t try hard enough to stay in touch. That’s on me. But I don’t want that to ever happen again.”

“But now you must really think I’m trash. After all that?”

Harry shook his head, squeezing her hand, “Not at all, angel. I want to be with you. Don’t want you with anyone else, though,” he laughed, “And I’m not gonna think about whatever you had going on with that guy because you were just trying to get to know someone else. You thought it was over with us. But I don’t want it to be over. I want it to be me and you.”

She stood stunned. She just hadn’t expected any of this but it was more than she could have hoped for. She genuinely thought she’d misread all the signs. Yes, last night it felt like intimacy and deep connection but figured that was all coming from her end. She had tricked herself into believing he didn’t feel the same.

“Well? What do you think? Would you want to be my girlfriend? Make it official?”

She swallowed the grit down her throat and blinked her eyes at Harry. It all felt like a dream. Surely it was a dream.

“I do want that. So much, but…” she shook her head just as Harry grinned wide.

“So you’re my girlfriend now?”

Y/n puffed out a laugh and nodded, “I guess so. Yeah.” She couldn’t tamper her smile.

Harry released one of her hands and gently held the back of her neck as he leaned down to kiss her. And just like every other time her lips connected with his, she felt flushed and buzzy. Her skin prickled with excitement. Her sinuses burned as she held back stupid tears.

But she needed to say something else. And if this fiasco had taught her anything it was that she needed to be better at communicating.

Parting from the kiss, Harry kept her in his arms as she tilted her head to look up at him, “But what happens when you leave again, Harry? To another city? Another country? What does that mean for us?”

He brought his lips to her forehead before looking down at her again, his crystalline green eyes taking her in. He inhaled a deep breath, a serious expression on his face suddenly that had Y/n worried about the next words he was going to speak, “Come with me.”

He squeezed her closer if that were possible and she opened and closed her mouth a few times, shocked at his words and at what was happening. It was crazy, wasn’t it? To just leave everything behind and travel with Harry wherever he went? Surely this was just a beautiful dream she’d be waking from at any minute.

Harry shook his head and the edge of his pink lips quirked up on one side, “I won’t take no for an answer.”

A/N: This is the last part of this series! What did you guys think? Would you like to see some more of these two? Thank you so much for reading!

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kneelingshadowsalome · 7 days

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Idk if you remember but you wrote a small drabble where reader was konigs secret admirer and it's been eating at my brain ever since😭 would you ever consider making it an actual story?

Oh I fell in love with the concept too! Here's a part 2 to that little drabble, I humbly offer it to you with my fluffy little paws ^^

CW: 18+ smut, fluff. Nothing bad here, just sweetness. Ok maybe a tiny bit of biting and light angst because it’s König after all... (Part 1 here)

He still doesn’t know who the mystery girl is.

She likes to tease him with cute messages and a photo of her tits but won’t tell him her name or where she lives. The girl won’t come to meet him so that he can show her some love, nor will she agree to go on a date with him. She just responds to his pathetic suggestions with a bundle of emojis that are about to drive him crazy, and another message that says: “Soon!”

König has to fall back on the bed and go to sleep with a rock hard dick and a set of twitching, lonely hands. His dream of having a proper girlfriend was shoved on the back burner ever since he joined the Jagdkommando, but now there’s a certain girl inside his head, a new, even better dream he can’t repel. The next day is no better; he even forgets what he was supposed to bring home from the store, knowing his mom will only sigh and tell him they’ll survive without some ingredient they both know is very well essential.

He stands before the butters and spreads, trying to recall what his mother wanted when he hears a soft gasp further down the aisle. He turns his head and barely catches the sight of a woman, turning in her heels and rushing down the flour section, just somewhere out of sight.

Hope and curiosity spark inside him as he leaves the butter and darts after her, calling “Hey” and “Wait” between the shelves as she flits towards the cashier in mild terror. He chases her as if he were trying to catch a thief, and the girl picks up her pace, then slows down to a complete halt… and turns.

Lovely, fearful eyes behold him the immediate second she meets his gaze, immobile hands clutching a bag of croissants and a jar of chocolate butter against her chest.

He slows down his jog and arrives in front of her with a smile, but the girl only looks more and more afraid. Even her jaw is clenched shut, the spitting image of a prey who just got caught.

“You’re her, aren’t you? The mystery girl,” he asks, trying to make it clear as day just how excited he is to finally meet her in person.

Her eyes stay wide as she blinks, the little bag of croissants crunching a bit further in her grip as she tries to shield her vital parts.

“Are you done shopping…?”

Still no answer.

She’s shy, just like he is... Maybe even more so, which is incredibly endearing: the same girl who sent him a picture of her boobs last night, the same girl who had no trouble teasing him to the point of leaking cum all over his sheets is as shy as a deer when caught in daylight.

It’s so incredibly cute… He thought she was a seductress of the most dangerous kind, but here she is now, looking up at him as if he was some boogieman about to come and snatch her away.

His smile only widens as he looks at his little minx who just tried to run away from the individual she’s sent postcards and love letters to ever since they were kids… Who knew his secret admirer was a bashful little cutie who sneaks around the local store to get herself some sweets and snacks?

“Let me pay for those,” he gestures at the products in her hand.

Another awkward silence follows until she finally turns her eyes to the floor and nods.

Perhaps it’s not that odd that she sent him anonymous notes and talked to him in texts and letters if she’s this timid -- he of all people should know how tough it is to walk to someone he likes and tell them he wants to go out. But he can’t help but wonder if the girl is mute, or partly deaf, or both. He wouldn’t mind. As long as they understand each other, it’s perfectly fine.

She looks at him like he’s a god —or a monster—while he pays for her humble delicacies. She stares at him with eyes still wide while putting the groceries inside a tiny cotton bag she has with her, and says nothing when he extends his hand towards her.

“Here. Give it to me.”

He’s trying to act the part of a gentleman to the full, and she offers the floor a tiny smile while handing him the bag. It weighs less than a half kilo, but the gesture is all that seems to matter because she is indeed smiling, shy and pleased as he shoulders the so called burden for her.

“I can walk you home if you like?” he suggests while pushing the door open for her.

She steps out into the luminous sunlight, eyes squinting a little from the sudden brightness. Then she turns to him and says her first meek words.

“But... Then you’ll know where I live…”

“Ah! She talks,” he laughs with a full smile and watches with a spreading warmth in his chest how she starts to grin, too. She’s looking at the asphalt and her shoes but she’s smiling, incredibly beautiful and pretty, outshining even the prettiest summer day.

“Don’t worry,” he starts to banter with increasing confidence—when has he ever teased anyone, let alone been confident around a girl he likes? “I promise I won’t come howling under your window at night...”

“It’s… It’s not that,” she laughs and bites her bottom lip. “I still live with my mom…”

She starts to walk towards where he lives, and he follows, his long legs catching up with her with ease.

“There was the COVID, and my mom is a little unwell… And with the economy… I’m still a student,” she explains while they stroll down the street.

“Really? I’m a student, too.”

“Oh…? What are you studying?”

“How to kill people,” he shrugs, cursing his stupid carefree mouth immediately. “Fuck… Sorry. That was… I mean, I’m in the army.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles.

He sneaks a peek her way, and she indeed doesn’t seem to be shocked in the slightest. Far more frightened she looked at the store when he noticed her and began to chase the poor girl.

They proceed to talk about what he does and why, how he only just returned from a month’s training that included concealment training in the mountains. She seems interested enough in his choice of career, which he tries to make sound as striking as possible, far more intriguing than it actually is. He tries to appear a little too glorious in her eyes, fearing he won’t live up to the reputation and fantasy she has built inside her pretty little head.

What if she wanted him to be a doctor instead of a moronic soldier? Maybe she fantasized about a lawyer or a historian with whom she could have fascinating conversations… And he’s just babbling nonsense about weather meters and ghillie suits.

But her eyes are still smiling, always at him when he looks away and starts to talk with his hands. When they arrive at the little wicket gate leading up to her house, he notices she lives only about a kilometre away from his childhood home.

She was always here, and he never knew anything about it… His secret admirer, his passionate seducer, turns out to be a harmless, lovely angel who lives right in the neighbourhood.

She takes her little cotton bag and turns to open the gate, and his hands twitch and flex. Say something clever, his mind yells, ask her out for fuck’s sake… But he needn’t worry, for his precious girl next door immediately turns back and shields her eyes from the sun while looking up at him.

“I’m sorry… I froze a little at the store. I just… This wasn’t how we were supposed to meet...”

“No? What did you have in mind for us then?”

She drops her hand back down and gives him a little halfway shrug, embarrassed.

“I don’t know. I just… I don’t even have any make-up on...”

He risks to bring a hand to her face, his thumb on her cheekbone, sweeps a little arc there to let her know she’s fucking beautiful.

“You’re very pretty,” he says, and she raises her eyes back to his, this time looking like she’s being blinded by the sun even if he’s shielding her from it.

“I really liked the picture you sent me,” he says boldly, and for the second time this afternoon, hopes the earth could swallow him right then and there.

A pretty girl sends him one nice picture of her tits, and he has to be an asshole about it… She looks super uncomfortable, so flustered that she nearly guides her face away from his palm.

Fuck that he’s stupid… Must he always be such an idiot and fuck everything up?

“I’m sorry... I meant to say that–”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she rises on her toes and plants a quick, flustered peck on his cheek, then turns to the gate as quickly as a whirlwind. Opens it, and returns solely to give him a bashful, naughty little smile.

“I liked your picture too,” she says so softly he can barely hear it.

“...Oh,” he squeaks, cheek still burning from her kiss.

“Do you want to come and see me tonight...? Mom usually drops before ten...”

“I… I… Sure.”

…

It’s a catastrophe.

His old jeans barely fit him anymore, they’ve become way too tight around the thighs. He’s put on some weight during the past few years and made sure to go to the gym every slack hour he has at his disposal, which means he’s packed a bit of muscle here and there. That, along with the many outdoor trainings, have ensured his appetite remains even bigger than usual so it’s no wonder none of his old pants fit. The only ones that don’t look utterly suggestive and wrong are his grey sweatpants, which he wore to the store today. He can’t very well wear those on a date, no matter what all those thirsty TikTok memes say...

He sighs, and grabs the black military pants he had on when he came here, pairing them with a simple black T-shirt. That’s all he has in his drawers: black, black, black, a few white ones that have some food and coffee stains on them, stains that never leave no matter how hard his mom tries to wash them for him.

The house is silent as he slips the keys into his pocket and hollers that he’s leaving. Like some lovesick, unneutered dog about to slink into the night…

“Mom? I’m going out. I… I have a date.”

“At this hour...?”

“Yeah… We’re… Going out to look at the moon,” he makes up off the top of his head.

His mom would scold him for harassing some poor girl when it’s almost midnight, even if it was her who invited him to her house. And if he’s lucky, there’s going to be a lot more action than just staring at the moon together… Not that that’s all he wants; it’s just that he’s been lonely as fuck and could really use a hug.

Is it a crime, with the past that he has, to want some human contact? Some skin on skin memories that don’t include punching?

“My little boy,” his mom strolls into the room, looking at him with soft, worried eyes. “You look like you’re about to invade some poor, innocent country…”

“Eh… I know. All the other pants were too small.’

She smiles at him: seeing a grown man sweat like a pig before a date must be a silly sight, even more compelling when that man is your own boy. The clock ticks on the wall as she looks at him like he’s about to march off to war, his only shoes a pair of standard leather boots he’s used for two years now. He showed them some grease and a brush, managed to make them look a little less worn and torn – if he had known some cute girl back home had a crush on him, he would’ve visited a clothing store before he came here…

His mom raises a shaky hand and draws him down to kiss him on the cheek, her eyes glossy and hazed from the gathering tears.

“I’m glad you’re finally eating enough,” she whispers with a voice that barely holds intact, and they both know why it’s shaking, why everything’s trembling; her hands, her voice and her tears.

His bottom lip is twitching too from witnessing his mom being so happy for his sake. But he doesn’t want to cry. He must stay oblivious and strong and pretend that things are finally how they should’ve been: normal and easy and wholesome and good. For her, he will never show that he’s shaking… Too many things in her life have done that when she needed them to stay stable and safe.

“Wish me luck,” he gives her a nervous smile, laughing the tears away.

“I always do…”

He leaves before his tower crumbles, slips out into the sweet, scented night.

There’s roses somewhere, roses that smell heavenly, some early jasmine too that wishes to intoxicate his mind. He realizes he has nothing with him to take as a gift for her, and cusses again. This is a fucking date, and he’s not even dressed properly; he doesn’t even have flowers to bring with him… She’s going to think he’s a nobody, some penniless freak who dresses like a crazy person when he’s supposed to dazzle her and make her swoon.

On his way to her place, he stops to cut a small branch from a flowering rowan tree and shelters it from the gusts of wind that blow from the river. The tiny flowers are delicate and fragrant, not exactly what he would’ve taken to her had he been clever enough to visit a florist before they all closed. But it’s cute enough, to him at least, especially when it’s cut from the tree that was his safe haven as a boy.

The curtains at her window shift when he arrives at the gate, and he knows she’s been expecting him, waiting for the clock to strike ten as eagerly as he.

The front door opens, and there she is: dressed far more accordingly than he; his lady has slipped into a sweet summer dress like the angel that she is. It’s bright and yellow, far from the darkness he always wears, and his heart is slowly squeezing to bits inside his chest.

“Hey,” she gives him a wide, knee-buckling smile.

“Hey,” he smiles back, marching to her door like a horny, ugly wolf. “You want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful ni–”

The moment he arrives at her feet, the moment she sees that he’s carrying a tiny branch from the rowan tree for her, she snatches the front of his shirt and pulls him inside with a surprising amount of strength.

His forehead hits the doorframe with a thick thud before he manages to bow, and there’s a bit of a commotion after that. He huffs something akin to Oof and laughs, making the angel flit around him in a wild, flustered shame, apologizing to him at least ten times.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

“Heh. It’s okay,” he smiles while rubbing the achy spot on his head. He’s forced to sit into an old wicker chair, wide enough to accommodate his back but far too low to hold his stature. He sinks inside it like a veritable giant while she continues to fuss around him, inspecting his “wound” and taking the offering from him with a helpless, embarrassed stare.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says before leaving him in his chair, the flower he brought softly placed on the bed.

He’s afraid the furniture will break if he moves, so he stays as still as possible while taking in his surroundings, the soft girl adobe he has somehow managed to sneak his sorry rotten arse into.

She has a large TV in front of her bed, a gaming console and a lot of books, candles everywhere he steals a look. The beige bedding looks freshly changed and incredibly soft, and there’s an old bunny toy on her bedstand along with another book, both loved to bits. Some houseplants on the floor appear to be doing extremely well, a small leather bag and some makeup left scattered on her desk. Rocks and twigs and dried flowers rest on her window sill, treasures she’s gathered from her trails. It makes his heart grow soft because he knows she will probably put his little offering there too. A bouquet of expensive, luxurious flowers wouldn’t have hit their target at all.

She returns with a small pack of ice and rushes to him in her flowy, blooming summer dress. Descends on her knees and brings a small towel to his forehead before pressing the ice over it, ensuring that it’s not too cold to make him uncomfortable.

As if he could ever feel uncomfortable, seated in a wicker chair with an angel between his legs, treating his supposed wound with ice and the softest touch…

“Remember all those postcards you sent me?” he asks while she continues to look like the worst person who ever lived, simply because she was too eager to pull him inside her room.

“Sadly, yes.”

“Remember what you wrote to me?”

“Not really,” she says, dabbing the ice pack all over the rising bump on his head. “Something stupid, I suppose…”

“You told me that you love me.”

Her eyes dart to his for a while, hope and shame battling in her fae stare.

“...Oh God.”

“Many times. And then you told me that I’m cute…”

She sighs and brings the ice and the cloth somewhere in her lap. The breasts inside their soft little cell look astoundingly delicious when viewed from up here: he’s slouching in a chair and still, is able to take a rude little peek inside her dress. He slaps himself mentally for being such a goddamn pervert, but then she sighs again, the cute little peaches swelling inside her dress once more.

“That’s it?”

“That’s mostly it, yes…”

He’s getting hard here, which is a problem. A big, big problem…

His shy admirer never notices anything, not even when he softly gestures for her to give the ice to him. He continues to press it on his forehead, trying to concentrate on the cold sensation rather than the swelling dick in his pants.

How is he supposed to not grow hard when he knows this adorable little creature has been infatuated with him for so long? When he knows she’s flustered now, just from hearing him tease her about those silly, harmless cards?

“I kept every single one,” he tells her, only to watch how the shy girl grows even shyer.

“You didn’t…”

“I did.”

He tells her about the bullies and how they made it look like they had sent the cards, telling him no girl could ever want to be with him. It’s a sad attempt to fish for her affection and pity, words of contempt and judgement to hammer it home that he did receive those cards from this girl, he did, in fact, deserve to be loved and adored.

And then she starts to talk about how she watched him... How she went to a different school than him, but that she sometimes strolled behind him when he walked home. They shared the journey to and from school, and he was always completely unaware that he was being followed.

“You stared at this rowan tree for what seemed like hours,” she recalls with a sad smile. “Then, if a bee caught your eye, or a bird or some flower, you stopped to ogle at those instead…”

He laughs, but there’s a bittersweet stone in his chest. If he remembers correctly, these were the only times of the day he could drop his eternal guard: in school, he was being tormented by cruel kids and at home there lived a tyrant with his sad little subjects. Trees and bees and birds were a welcome distraction.

She smiles a little, but it’s not a happy smile, even if it is affectionate.

“My mom always told me to come straight back home,” she says. “But you were never in a hurry...”

He looks at her, and she looks back, some pity in her eyes. There arrives a sweet and sour pain in his heart, a feeling that comes from knowing there was someone who witnessed a glimpse of the hope and pain he lived in. That there was someone there all along…

“You even stopped to look at dog poo…”

“Heh... Was that the moment you fell for me?”

Her lip twitches, the pity in her stare breaks. She rises a little to lean forward, and he catches her with ease as she falls there into his arms, snug into his lap. His lips find hers without effort, and sensation bleeds: his hands are sweaty and shaking as he runs them down along her dress, cups her ass so that she gives a little gasp straight into his mouth.

That’s the thing he was pining for: for her to open that pretty little mouth so that he could pry it further open with his own. Plunge an exploring tongue inside, not too quick and not too greedy, just a little poke to see if she wants to be claimed.

The angel melts in his lap, like pure white snow, until he braces his core and rises to his feet. It’s now or never, and he’s not going to let this moment slip past his fingers. Somehow, they end up on the bed, the smell of fresh linens and her dainty perfume catching his nose before she presses a pair of weak hands on his chest.

“The flower...”

The flower... Of course.

The flower from the rowan tree.

He huffs a laugh on her face, a relieved smile as he understands she’s only worried about trampling his gift.

It’s set aside on the table, but right after that, he attacks her again, begins the ascension to heaven. His lips won’t get enough of her, not even as he drinks her like honeydew and ambrosia: the dress he used to associate with seraphs and summer now seems like a huge obstacle between his tongue and her skin, the need to taste more of her urgent in his hips.

“Can I take this off?” He roughs a hand down the fabric that shields her breasts, relishing the tiny moan that follows when he does that. “I want to kiss you everywhere…”

Her throat makes a wet, charming sound as she swallows, her eyes now pools of dark, drunken love.

“On one condition,” she tells him, out of breath. “If I can kiss you everywhere too?”

It’s a deal, his mind exclaims immediately, but his devilish grin is how he tells her he’s more than eager to accept these terms. His clothes find their way on the floor along with hers, black on black on yellow, but he won’t let her shiver in the cold for long. Like a man possessed, his body finds hers, her soft, naked skin colliding with his like heaven after all those lonely nights of slick, urgent fapping.

He’s not sure who’s worshipping who here, but he vows to never again let this angel fly under his radar, no matter how perfect of a guardian she has been. A guardian angel, following him with her blessed stare, sending him heavenly messages that were real and true all along.

She should be rewarded for her abundant gifts, and so his lips find her shoulders and her neck; they graze her nipples and claim her breasts in devouring that leaves her back arching on the bed.

“You don’t have a girl? Waiting for you back there...?” she asks shyly, even when half her tit is being sucked by his mouth.

“The only thing waiting for me back there is my hand,” he rasps while diving down, down, down, all the way past her navel and the mound she still tries to protect from plunder.

“...I can be your girl,” she whispers somewhere high above, her hands holding his head like that of an untamed dog. “If you want…?”

He breathes on the apex between her thighs, presses a furious kiss there without care.

“F-fuck…” she sighs those thighs open, and from that point on, nothing is enough.

It’s horrible that it must be so: that he finally gets to drink his fill, and it’s still not enough. Her sighs are not enough, her trembling body is not enough. Her attempts to muffle her moans with the back of her hand are not nearly enough.

He wants more, so much more: he wants to try all there is to this with her, forever and ever until the day he dies. He wants to hear her soil her tongue with more curses as he ruins her, bit by bit, just a little bit…

“Say it,” he pants into her glistening lips, “Say that you’re my girl…”

When she does nothing but whimpers in return, he attacks her with both teeth and tongue. Bruises the thigh beside her treasure before plunging straight towards the main prize with reckless want. That’s what finally forces the words out of her mouth: his tongue inside her cunt, delving so deep he has to breathe through his nose to keep from fainting.

“I’m your girl,” she moans on the bed, a bit louder now. “I’m yours, I promise… I always… Always…”

I always was….

She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t need to.

He grants her mercy after that, replacing the tongue with a finger or two. Slow wide circles over her clit accompanied by quick little pumps in her hole make her cum in no time, and he’s glad he listened to the dirty mess talk of his filthy comrades. Patience is not his virtue, but for her, he makes all the effort.... He for sure leaves a little memory on her thigh. It’s not very nice of him, and he fears those teeth marks might stay with her longer than just a few weeks.

Maybe she’ll forgive him if he fucks her after this, rocks her slowly and softly, fucks her like angels ought to be fucked. But no, fucking is not the right word... He wants to make love to her. Drink her moans right from her lips while he does it.

After the climax, he’s still hard and she’s still panting.

He wonders if he’ll get slapped or kissed if he asks for permission to put it inside now... His dick is throbbing while they stare at the ceiling together, but as always, his angel is two steps ahead.

“My turn,” she says with newfound vigour, and he gets more than he bargained for: everything and more as she gives his body the same attention he just gave her. Bites his nipples a little too hard, the little minx, licks his ribs as if it’s some kind of a contest to try and make him tickle. Laughs angel trails across his skin, draws a finger down his nether hair until she meets his jutting dick.

She gives him a tame little lick at first, then slowly, expeditiously, kisses his cock from root to tip. Before due time, his thighs start to tremble, and that’s when she takes it in her mouth: sucks and licks him deep until his abs and balls pull tight. The sheet in his fist threatens to get torn to shreds when he cums, and for a moment, he forgets everything, even his name, until he notices that the poor little thing can’t swallow all his load. She almost chokes on the first spurt, withdraws to cough with her mouth closed while he hisses fat curses past clenched teeth.

When he arrives back to Earth, there’s cum everywhere: on her face, on the sheets, all over his abdomen and his thighs, an eruption that spilled everywhere because his angel got a little appalled.

“I’m sorry,” she peeps with her mouth still full of it.

The poor girl swallows it bravely, and his heart is about to explode: his angel swallows his filthy load like a champ and looks so incredibly valiant while doing it.

“Hey,” he raises a shaking hand towards her, too weak to rise from the bed to comfort her. “It’s okay… You didn’t need to do that…”

“But I wanted to,” she complains while the thick, sticky cum drips down her cheek and onto her breasts.

“Shit… Come here,” he coaxes, and she crawls forward to nestle in the nook of his arm.

He uses the sheet to dry the rest of it off her face. She looks up at him with that trademark seraph stare, so helpless and in love—if this is what having a girlfriend is like, then he doesn’t feel bad at all that he had to wait a little longer than most men. It was worth all the trouble and toil that he has her here now, in his arms, batting her lashes sweetly.

“You’re still incredibly cute, you know...?” she whispers, and a mountain inside him moves.

It’s not sorrow, nor is it yearning; it’s just sweet, simple love. The room smells of salt and sin, but there’s nothing sinful about her when she cups his chin. He knows it’s not elegant to tell someone you love them on the day you've met them, but if the one you love happens to be an angel, then isn't it a sin not to confess?

#könig x you #könig x reader #könig fluff #soft!könig #strangers to lovers

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ryleigh130 · 3 months

Text

Frostbite- - - ryleigh130

Summary- reader gets hypothermia on a mission and the boys help warm them up.

Relationships- platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader

Characters- cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

Word count- 2.2k

Warnings- hypothermia, profanity, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

Note- This is my first ever fanfiction written on here so please leave me suggestions on how to improve! This story is inspired by the creator @python333 so go and check out their work it’s absolutely amazing! If you would like to leave a request for me to do a specific prompt feel free to message me! That’s it, thank you and I hope you enjoy! <33

It’s. Fucking. Cold. The three words repeat in your mind over and over again as you consider voicing your complaints to the team for what had to be the 8th time in the last 30 minutes. You couldn’t help it, it was cold. Freezing actually, you and the others were assigned a mission in the middle of butt fuck nowhere Siberia so excuse you for being cold.

To make matters worse for you, you’re the only 141 member currently suffering the biting cold as you were the one who drew the short end of the stick and got put on sniper duty whilst the others get to enjoy the warmth of actually being in the building they’re trying to get the info from.

With that thought, you sigh and shift your position slightly from where you are laying looking through the scope on your M107. It wouldn’t be so bad if you were actually moving around but instead, you’ve been laying in the same position, in the snow, for around 3 hours and you’re starting to loose feeling in your fingers and toes.

“[c/n], how copy” your radio sparks to life as the gruff, British accent of your Captain comes through.

“Still fucking cold, are we almost done here? I’m freezing my balls off out here” you groan, tentatively flexing your fingers trying to spark life back into them.

A low chuckle is heard over the radio as you can practically hear Price roll his eyes from where he is positioned, “you’ve mentioned. But yes, as soon as Soap plants the bombs we should be good to go. How’s it looking Soap?” A clicking can be heard over the radio when suddenly the loud, Scottish voice of John “Soap” MacTavish booms through,

“Aye Cap’n, jist aboot done” you hear another click and a hushed exclaim of victory, “Aw set!” You practically let out a cry of relief at the thought of going back to the safe house and getting warm,

“Took you long enough!” Gaz’ teasing voice pipes up before promptly getting shut up,

“Oh shut it you bawbag” Soap’s voice is light as you hear their footsteps going down the halls to escape the building. You watch through the scope of your rifle making sure to keep an eye out for any rouge enemies that might be hanging around the building the team was gathering the info from. You see Gaz leave the building first, followed by Price and finally Soap. You frown slightly, waiting a few moments before radioing,

“Ghost, how copy” you wait a few seconds before radioing in again, this time sounding more worried, “Ghost, ho-“ before you could finish your sentence, Ghost’s voice, accompanied by the sounds of gunshots filter through

“Solid copy.” He grunts out “I’ve got a few on my tail now but I’m taking care of it” you hear more gunshots as you look through your scope trying to spot Ghost’s form. Suddenly, an alarm rings through the building, you watch as dozens of enemy soldiers flood into the building your team once occupied,

“Fuck Ghost, incoming” you manage to warn before you hear Price’s loud and commanding voice boom,

“Ghost! Get out of there now! We need to detonate this thing now!” You hear Ghost reply with a short grunt. You watch as Ghost’s body runs out from the quickly populating building spraying round after round at accompanying enemies following. You try and help the best you can picking off as many enemies as possible before you hear Soap’s shout,

“CLEAR!” And with that, the building goes up in flames. You duck your head from where you’re positioned to avoid the ash and debris from the burning building,

“All Bravos, how copy?” You hear Price’s voice through the slight ringing of your ears,

A chorus of “Solid, copy”’s respond to the Captain, including your own as you begin to pack your weapon up to head out.

“Brilliant, alright everyone good work. Let’s regroup at the safe house 5 clicks from this position.” A murmur of approvals ring through the coms as you absentmindedly hum your approval and mute your radio. You finish packing up your gear when you hear a twig snap somewhere close by. You perk up and draw your M18 from where it’s positioned in the small holster on your thigh. As quiet as a mouse you sneak through the snowy brush to where the noise originated, peaking through the tree line your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach as you see a squadron of about 9 soldiers approaching your position.

Fuck me. You practically groan, you know you won’t be able to take them all down at the same time so you do the only sensible option, you run. Expertly navigating through the snowy taiga, you run, duck, and jump over the obstacles in front of you. You can hear the pounding of footsteps behind you and the whizzing of bullets flowing past your body, barely missing their target. You run until your lungs burn and your eyes water from the cold air. You look around seemingly cornered by the enemy soldiers and the barren landscape when you spot it. A frozen over lake and possibly your one chance at survival, without a chance to second guess yourself, you’re running towards the lake. You hear yelling in the distance followed by more gunshots as you continue towards the lake. You reach the shoreline and tentatively put your body weight on the ice, judging by the fact it didn’t immediately crack, you take the risk and start sliding toward the other side. Luckily you are small and light enough to be able to tread across the slippery surface. You look over your shoulder to see the soldiers staring at you and continuing to try and shoot you. Before you could react, a stray bullet embeds into the icy surface and a loud crack and be heard. You look down in terror as the ice begins to crack and splinter. With a new objective in mind, you quicken your pace to the reach the other side of the frozen lake.

It’s too late. You’re about 3/4ths of the way when the ice suddenly relents under your weight and you get plunged into the deep icy depths of the water. The icy water causes your body to immediately freeze and jolt in pain as the below freezing water feels like pins and needles getting pushed into your skin slowly. You sink toward the bottom of the frozen pool before your mind catches up with your body and a gasp of air leaves your mouth. You’re choking on the icy water as you struggle against the cold, slowly and painfully you make your way back towards the surface. Your head emerges from the water first, then followed by your hands as you desperately try and grab onto something to be able to drag yourself out of the water. You can’t get a grip on the slippery surface causing you to gasp and sink back into the water, kicking your feet one final time you propel yourself out of the water and onto the ice. With the last bit of your remaining energy you fling yourself to the safety of solid ground on the other side of the lake.

You lay on the snowy ground shivering violently. You look out at the side of the lake where you came from and notice the soldiers were gone, must’ve thought I was a goner, you think bitterly. You don’t have time to reminisce on it as the wind picks up and reminds you that you are currently shivering, wet, and unable to feel your own body. Weakly, you try and turn on your radio to signal for help. You almost cry when you realize it’s gone, you must’ve lost it when you fell in. Coughing violently, you shakily get on your feet, stumbling once, then twice, you manage to stand and take unsteady steps towards where you assume the safe house should be.

The hike takes longer than it should’ve as you continuously stumbled and fell, taking longer than you care to admit to get back up and continue. It’s around 1700 judging by the just setting sun, when the small cabin comes into view. You almost weep in relief when you see it, you pick up your pace into a small run and, promptly fall down face first into the snow. You lay in the snow no longer shivering as your body begins to shut down, No! Not like this, I’m right there! You feel yourself thinking. You feel as if you hear a noise that resembles a door opening and voices yelling but you chalk that up to your imagination as your vision slowly fades into black. With one last tired breath you close your eyes and let the warmth take over you.

When you wake up, you’re burning, and not in a nice way. You feel as if your skin is on fire and is about to melt off your bones. It hurts, painfully so and you make sure to vocalize your discomfort with a pained screech. You try moving your body away from the burning heat but your muscles won’t respond to your brain so you can do nothing more then just let out pained screeches as tears flow down your face. Faintly you can hear hushed voices trying desperately to soothe you but you’re too out of it to notice. With one last screech you black out, in the back of your head you feel as if you can feel a hand card through your hair.

When you wake up again, the pain is still there but significantly lessened. You can feel yourself lying on what you assume to be a mattress with possibly the fluffiest blanket you’ve ever felt on top of you. You try opening your eyes, the light took adjusting to but after a moment you are able to look around the room where you are laying in. Almost immediately you spot the sleeping form of Captain John Price, he’s leaning back in the old wooden chair he’s on with his mouth open in a soft snore. His hand is laying on your covered leg comfortably, he looks tired and worried like he hasn’t slept in a good while. You look around the room trying to figure out where you are before you make yourself known. With a small clearing of your throat Price violently jerks awake and stares at you for a moment before he moves into action,

“Jesus Christ you’re awake!” He states as he starts to worry over you. He gently takes his hand and puts it over your forehead, frowning at what he feels, he moves toward yours eyes. With a flashlight he checks your eyes and nods once before setting the flashlight back aside. Once he finishes his initial exam, he surges forwards and wraps you in a tight embrace,

“NEVER do that again, you hear me?!” He started firmly, his voice laced with clear worry and concern. You chuckle lowly and rasp out,

“My bad, next time I wanna take a quick dip in the pool I’ll wait until summer.” This obviously was the wrong response as Price fixes you with a firm glare,

“I’m serious [c/n]! Do you have any idea how worried we were! First, you were MIA for 2 hours! Then, you show up DRENCHED in ��5 °C weather! And THEN, we find you face down in the bloody snow! [y/n] we thought you were dead!” He scolds. You look down with a light blush of shame tinting your cheeks but before you could apologize, the door slams open causing you and Price to jump. In rushes both Soap and Ghost as they storm over to your bedside. Soap grabs your hand and holds it to his face,

“Steamin Jesus kid, ye gave us quite the scare there.” He says into your palm, Ghost approaches his side and stares at you in worry,

“How are you feeling?” He asks. You open your mouth to respond when suddenly footsteps echo through the hall and Gaz comes barreling into the room.

“[c/n]!” He rushes to your bedside and pulls you into a tight hug,

“Gaz! Quit it! Ye gonna hurt the lad” Soap scolds immediately as Gaz pulls away sheepishly with a muttered apology. You take a moment to gather your thoughts before looking back up at the team you consider family.

“M’sorry” you mutter out, tears threatening to fall, “they- they came so quickly and and I tired to run but I couldn’t lose ‘em so I tried to cross the lake but then they shot at it and I fell in and itwassocold-“ your rambling coming to a stop when a firm hand lands on your shoulder. You look up to see Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“Hey, hey kid. It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe now” Price soothes gently. “It’s gonna be alright we’re here.” He continues giving you a soft look. You nod looking at your shaking hands when suddenly clothed hands cover your own. You look at Ghost as he warms your still cold hands with his own, you feel a hand in your hair and smile as you lean into Price’s touch. Soap and Gaz bring up a chair next to your bedside and sit close to you, protectively shielding your body from further harm. With the team you consider family so close to you, you give into your quickly tiring eyes and fall into a deep, comfortable sleep.

#cod mw2 #fanfic #wump #fluff #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price

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livingemkayde · 9 months

Text

ch v. just you

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter five of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. smut, half porn half plot, unprotected p in v, oral, f!receiving, a little fingering, kinda dom!joel but hes sweet. rough sex and mentions of bruising. some verbal disagreements and fighting. love triangle forming formed. lots of angst, talk of miscommunications. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake).

summary: you confront joel about, well, everything. you talk it out in more ways than one.

a/n: i been waitin for this one. TURN IT UP. i hope you guys like this slow burn reward, im happy with how this chapter came out. enjoy this before all the drama lol. love you all smsmsmsm.

Joel cuts you off, dips his head lower, his tongue dips into your entrance and when you whine and moan he trails higher, tasting you and gently sucking until he reaches your clit. You bite your lip in favor of screaming, and you can barely hear Joel whisper, like he’s in awe— “I knew it,” as he takes another taste of the slick dripping out of your entrance. “I fuckin’ knew it.” “What?” “Knew you’d taste like heaven,” he says with a muffled groan, sinking his tongue back into your aching hole, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that makes you shut your eyes so tight you see stars.

There are times you wish texting was never invented.

You like calling people — hearing their voice. The intonations of their words, knowing exactly what they’re thinking.

But there are other times, you thank the lord for creating the form of communication — because you have no idea what to say to Joel.

You stare down at your phone. The text’s words float through your mind. Trying to desperately figure out what to say.

Your thumbs fiddle with each other, you bite your lip as you try and concentrate on a suitable text. Joel’s contact name just stares back at you, unmoving.

You: going to the store on my own, i don’t need your—

You delete that text quickly as you start making a pot of coffee.

You: i don’t think we should go together—

You delete that one too.

You run a hand over your forehead, swiping through your phone to get to Tommy’s text.

You slump against your kitchen counter when you realize you don’t know what to say to either Millers. You look out the window, it’s a nice day out, the sun shining through the early morning dew. The spot in front of your house stares back at you. The spot where Tommy was parked in last night. Where he had cut you off after his question, and begged you to consider it.

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.”

And when you hadn’t said anything—

“Please?”

So you nodded, and you’re not sure why, but tears threatened to spill from your eyes, leaving the truck in disarray and falling asleep in much the same manner.

When you woke up this morning, you hoped it had been a dream — his big brown eyes had never looked that desperate, and you know you fucked up by telling him you’ll think about it — when all you can think about is his brother.

You stare back at Tommy’s messages and type in your own.

You: can we talk in person?

You look at the words for a long time, before hitting send. You needed to clear the air as quickly as possible.

You open Joel’s texts. The last couple ones just revolve around Sarah, pick up times, and what the plans were for dinner.

But the very last one, from last night — looks particularly menacing. Like it might grow wings and fangs and jump out of your phone.

Joel M: Get home okay?

You sigh, ignoring his text and typing out your own.

You: i think i’m gonna go shopping on my own soon. be by to drop off the stuff later

Whatever — you think to yourself before hitting send.

You don’t even know what month it is.

You hadn’t realized the calendars flicked to July, until you walked through the Party City and all the decorations you can find are red, white, and blue. The aisles are crowded, everyone getting last minute party favors and decorations in prep for Monday’s holiday.

You find the birthday section, rifling through to get streamers, string lights, balloons, and banners. You smile to yourself when you find a small toy horse from that show Sarah likes.

You put the toy into the basket.

The market is next, you haul ass to get as many two liters of soda you can carry, chips, and different snacks for the party. Tommy had managed to get a decent turn out from his RSVP (which was just a phone call asking if they could come) and you want to make sure there’s enough food for everyone.

Your name being shouted from down the aisle snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s Janet Baker, one of the moms from Sarah’s soccer camp, she strides towards you pushing a cart full of hot dogs and buns. You distinctly remember seeing her at one of Sarah’s games. The one where Joel and Tommy both showed up, you, slotted to sit between them.

“Hey, you!” she says, pulling you into an unexpected hug.

“Oh! Hi, Mrs. Baker,” you reply shyly with a chuckle, her cart is abandoned when she gets a peek into yours.

“Now, I told you to call me Janet, don’t be makin’ me feel old with all this ‘Mrs’ crap,” she chides, you smile, not really knowing what to say.

“Sorry, Janet,” you say with a chuckle.

“What are you shoppin’ for missy? Fourth of July party?”

“Oh — uh —” you look down to your cart, “actually, Tommy’s birthday is tomorrow.”

“...Tommy…?” she says, while looking up towards the sky.

“Oh my god, sorry — Tommy Miller, Sarah’s uncle?” you say, trying to get it to ring a bell. She thinks for a long time, you’re about to say it’s not important but she cuts you off—

“That’s right! We met at that game last weekend,” she says, nodding her head, remembering the encounter.

You remember that game. It was before all of these new — situations — with Joel.

Sarah had come up to the three of you before the game started, a friend in tow. You were introduced to one of Sarah’s close accomplices, Katie.

“Are you Mrs. Miller?” Katie had said, looking between you and Joel hesitantly. Your cheeks felt hot.

Joel stifled an awkward laugh beside you. Tommy was quiet.

“Oh, no, kiddo — ’M just Sarah’s nanny.”

Tommy was silent the rest of the game. You don’t remember much after that.

But you remember Janet, giving you a couple friendly smiles, when you introduced her to Tommy after the game had ended. The same smile she gives back to you right now.

“Yeah, just getting some decorations and food,” you say, pointing down towards your cart.

“Well, aren’t you a sweet thing for throwin’ him a party.”

“I appreciate that, Janet. Why don’t you and your daughter come tomorrow, she can play with Sarah?”

“Oh, how nice of you to invite us. I sure hope Tommy’s okay with it,” she laughs.

“He will be,” you say back, trying to match her enthused demeanor. Her bright eyes and almost obnoxious laugh make you chuckle to yourself a bit.

She’s suddenly close to you, dipping into your personal space to whisper slyly so that no one else can hear her ask—

“Y’all aren’t datin’, right?”

Your eyes widen. This woman’s timing is fucking impeccable, you’ll give her that.

“No! Oh no, no, I’m just — I’m Sarah’s—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Sarah’s babysitter. But between you and me, sweetie —” she leans even lower, her hand coming to the side of her mouth like she’s telling you a secret. “ — even though you’re Sarah’s babysitter, all us moms think you look mighty nice next to Joel.”

You don’t even know what to say, Janet’s eyebrow sticking up like she’s hinting at something. Jesus, it’s like she’s had a private viewing of your life this past week and she’s taking the footage and taunting you with it.

“M-me? With…?”

“Joel. Yes, doll—” she says, like now it’s her turn to get you to remember one of the Miller brothers, “—we see the way he looks at you.”

“No — I think you might be mistaken, Janet—”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll see it soon too.”

Joel’s door stares back at you.

You have all the bags in your hands, the plastic of the handle turns your fingertips white from the pressure of the two liters pulling it down, but you can’t bring yourself to knock.

Not until you hear some movement from inside — not wanting him to catch you waiting outside his door like a creep. You kick the door a little with your shoe in place of freeing a hand to knock.

Joel opens the door, his eyes widening at your state.

“Jesus, what are you—” he cuts himself off with his movements, bending down to take the bags from your hands, though you protest.

“I got it, Joel, just—”

He takes the bags from you anyways.

“Should’ve called me,” he mumbles while turning towards the kitchen counter, leaving you in the doorway sans the six bags you struggled to pick up all on your own.

“Sorry. I —”

You don’t really know what you’re apologizing for.

“Thanks,” you say when he puts the bags on the table and begins to unpack them. You move to help him, opening up the fridge for some of the food.

“What’s this?” he says, pulling out the toy horse for Sarah.

“Oh. It's for Sarah. ‘S the horse from that show she likes.”

He stares at you for a long time, before looking down towards the toy in his hand.

“You got this for her?”

“Yeah,” you say, confused as to why he seems surprised you got her a toy.

“She’ll like that. Thanks,” he says, setting the toy on the dinner table and rifling through more stuff until it’s just decorations left in the bags.

“She’s at her sleepover?” you ask, looking around the living room at any signs of life.

“Mhm,” Joel replies from the kitchen.

You wait in silence for a while, unsure of how to proceed. Normally you would probably just ask him if he wants to set up some decorations but this is far from normal.

“You wanted to go without me?” he asks, when you stop walking around and stand in front of him.

“I just didn’t want it to get too late, since Sarah was here…sorry” you say. You try to keep the hurt out of your voice.

“‘S fine, I…wanted to—” he shakes his head, organizing his thoughts before changing the subject. It sort of surprises you — but it seems like this has been on his mind all day. “You didn’t answer my text. Had to call Tommy last night.”

“Oh.”

Shit.

He sounds so fucking worried it almost makes you sick.

“‘M sorry. It was a—long night.”

“You got back okay? No issues?”

Yeah. No fucking issues except your brother asked me out.

You think you should say something. Not like Joel has the right to know, but it’s the right thing to do in your eyes regardless.

“Did Tommy tell you…?”

“Did Tommy tell me what?”

Fuck.

“He—uh—um,” his eyebrow lifts at your words, you can barely get the sentence out, your pulse thrumming with each second you stall with stuttering.

“He asked me out. Last night.”

Joel looks at you. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen that look in his eye. Like he’s the embodiment of disappointment. Like he doesn’t know what to do with his face, let alone his hands, his body.

The warm sunlight peeking in through the window starts making you sweat the longer he stands looking at you. When he finally speaks you can barely hear him — the drawl you love so much, quiet and blanketed under an emotion you can’t place.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah.”

He nods like he’s trying to collect his thoughts. Though, it only makes you more scared from the uncertainty of his words and actions. But surprisingly he doesn’t act out at all, he just gives you an emotionless face and words that seem harmless, but cut through your skin.

“Oh. Happy f’you two.”

“No—I—”

“Nah—’s…’s good.”

“Stop, Joel—”

He stops. But you’re not entirely sure he’s listening very clearly.

“I didn’t say yes. He told me to…think about it.”

“And?”

“And I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, exasperated. Your hand comes up to your forehead. “About last night? About…?”

Everything. You want to say. But fall short.

“What about last night?”

God, was this all in your head? It certainly didn’t feel like that at the bar. Nor on the front porch when he almost kissed you, or on the phone that same fatal night.

“Joel,” you plead with him, your voice breaking a bit. He breaks your eye contact when you say his name, almost like it hurts him to hear you say it. This game you two are playing right now is fucking ridiculous, an old tired version of the one from last night, in front of the bar.

“There’s nothing to talk—”

“Don’t do that. You can’t just fucking—” you almost laugh.

Who the hell is this guy in front of you? You continue, even through your ragged breaths and tears that now stain your cheeks.

“You can’t. Don’t—”

“He’s my brother.”

“So? I knew you before any of this—”

“He’s my brother.”

His loud voice cuts off any thoughts you had forming. You wait for a while, trying to understand what he means by that — maybe this is some petty competition they have going and Joel feels like he’s losing. You don’t know what to think of their dynamic anymore.

“I can’t just ignore it,” you say. You hate how your voice sounds so small. “I didn’t want it like this,” you say, more tears falling, you try to wipe them away quickly, embarrassed to cry in front of him.

“You think I do?” his rhetorical question lingers in the air when you don’t respond. “That fuckin’ day you met Tommy, he—” Joel can’t even look at you anymore.

“He asked me if I — liked you — or whatever, ‘n I said no. You and I were done. We had just decided it was over.”

“So you’re just gonna throw this away because he called dibs?”

“I ain’t throwin’ anythin’ away—” he shakes his head. “I don’t wanna throw this away.”

“Right. Like last night?”

“So this is about Caroline? I told you that I don’t like her — it was a fuckin’ set up.”

“This is not about Caroline,” you could almost laugh.

He gives you a knowing look. You both know this is definitely not about Caroline.

“‘M sorry. About last night, ‘bout everythin’, but you left,” Joel says, “You wanted to leave. I—I wasn’t gonna stop you.”

“I thought you were gonna come with me.”

That shuts him up. He looks at you with a slack jaw, like he was going to say something already braced on his tongue but at your response, he became speechless. Like your sentence smacked the words out of his own mouth.

“I wanted you to come with me,” you say, softer this time. “And then you—fucking—left me and got Tommy.”

“Tommy was—”

“I didn’t want Tommy. I don’t want Tommy.” you say, your voice breaking more with each confession. “But you wanted to hand me off to him—”

“C’mon. ‘F course that’s not what I wanted. You know that.”

“Then what? Because this isn’t a game to me, Joel.”

“‘S not a game,” he forces out, like he’s tired of playing too. “It was never a game.”

You stay silent, taken back by his words. You can tell his head is spinning, not really sure of what to say or rather, how to articulate his feelings.

“This is — you’re fucking…Jesus, I don’t know,” he starts, but begins to pace around the room, unable to finish.

You stay silent, watching him walk around slowly until he’s rooted right in front of you, closer than before.

“‘S a mess. Tommy is — you’re gonna break his heart because this is —”

You raise your eyebrows, pleading with him to continue, to finally say what he’s been thinking about since you two met at the bar.

“This is real. You’re real.”

Your heartbeat bangs in your ears, he’s closer than before. You don’t remember when he got so close. Close enough that when he talks after an unbearable silence, you can feel his breath on your nose.

“But you don’t know. You don’t see — any of it.”

“I see you, I —” you can’t get much out because your breath hitches. Big brown eyes stare back into yours. “Help me — show me,” you hiccup out while his hot breath catches your eyelashes.

His hand reaches down, like last night, pulling you closer, this time, you let him. His fingers sprawl out across your cheeks, feeling your neck, his big brown eyes pulling you in. He's a bit more breathless than you if that’s even possible. You keep blinking like you’re scared it might be a dream.

You look up at him. For the first time in a while your gaze isn’t cut short by wandering eyes or loud interrupting voices.

He dips down, his lips just barely touching yours, letting you make the final move towards him, kissing him, tasting him. It might be silly, but you remember his taste from all the weeks before. It feels like yesterday when he moans a bit in your mouth, and your hands fly to his chest to steady your shaky knees.

He breaks away first, you’re both panting into each other, like you’ve just surfaced from being underwater for so long — maybe you have been.

But he doesn’t say anything, only takes your hand in his and with a couple panting sighs, pulls you towards the stairs, towards his bedroom. He looks at you with a silent question etched on his face.

You nod before you know what’s happening, and he’s whisking you off into his room. You’ve never been in his room before, upstairs, sure, to help Sarah with things. But his room was unspokenly off limits. It smells like him, and as the tears reside and the genuine want rushes over you, it seems like he’s one step ahead of you, closing the door, and guiding you back towards the bed.

He’s kissing you, it’s sloppy but calculated at the same time. So much pent up frustrations and wandering eyes seemed to break at the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands running up and down your body.

You’re moaning and whimpering into his mouth, almost desperate despite always trying to remain stoic. But who are you kidding, it’s Joel.

“Please,” you bite when his mouth trails kisses down your neck and even more so when he slips your top off, catching your nipple in his hot mouth.

“Joel,” you whine again, when all he does is hum against your sensitive bud.

“Baby,” he says, and you notice the drawl is back. Like it never left, rich and honeyed — matching what you imagine every night before bed — hell — every waking moment.

You’re naked before you muster the brain power to notice him taking your clothes off. He doesn’t bother with his clothes, almost like he’s too eager to see you, forgetting about himself. You claw at his flannel but he pushes your hands back and over your head, rending your arms useless.

His other hand reaches down, finding your aching cunt dripping onto the gray bed sheets and he genuinely groans at the feeling. Brooding Joel Miller reduced to a moaning mess at the feeling of you wet and hot for him. The thought drives you up the walls a bit.

“Fuckin’ wet, so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart,” he grumbles more to himself than to you.

He runs his fingers over your outer lips while mouthing at your neck — you whimper and squirm under his grasp but his hand just holds yours harder. It might — no, it definitely will leave bruises on your wrists the next morning, but you could care less. The biting pain of it shoots right down to that white hot burn in your lower stomach.

“Quit movin’,” he says while beginning to trail down, almost like a warning for when he releases your wrists and settles in between your legs. He pants hot breath onto your swollen folds and despite his warning, you squirm underneath him. Joel seems a bit too desperate to tell you to stop or punish you otherwise.

When his lips place a hesitant kiss to your clit you almost scream, forcing his head in between your thighs and when he stops, you realize you might be squeezing him too tight. You sit up a bit, releasing your thighs when he stops and looks up at you.

“‘M sorry — shit — I — no one’s ever…I’m sorry, Joel—”

“‘M fine, lay back down.”

You do lay back down, but you're hesitant.

“No one ever do this to you, baby?” he asks, smiling up at you from between your legs, your face feels hot and you hide a shy smile. He mouths at your thighs and places a few gentle kisses to your folds.

“No, I — I guess not.”

“It feel good?”

“Good? Joel it feels fucking—”

“I knew it,” as he takes another taste of the slick dripping out of your entrance. “I fuckin’ knew it.”

“What?”

“Knew you’d taste like heaven,” he says with a muffled groan, sinking his tongue back into your aching hole, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that makes you shut your eyes so tight you see stars.

His mouth feels like a shot. Your grip in his hair, more like the chaser, grounding you back to the bed, his bed. In his room. The bite of him seeping through every corner of your body, his flat tongue pulling your fast approaching orgasm out of you so quickly you forget your name.

“Joel, I—”

You shut up because you think he knows, his hum against you sending vibrations through your clit, his wide palms coming up to grasp at your thighs until the spasms from your orgasm cease.

He keeps going even after you come down from your high, mouthing at your entrance which seems to get even wetter after you come. He snakes back up to kiss you, you moan into his mouth at the taste of your own slick all over his lips.

The feeling of his clothed length pressed into your all too sensitive cunt makes the wanting need spark back up, like he’s blowing hot air onto a fire starter, and it just ignited.

“Need you,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, his hands coming to grab your breasts, he’s everywhere, and you need more. And you need it now.

He pulls back at your words, a darker look on his face. You remember this look from the bathroom, when he asked you to beg for his cock, his name, and to cum inside your hot cunt.

“I — I don’t think I can be gentle, baby — I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Please, want it rough,” you tell him, looking back into his brown eyes, almost pleading.

I just need you.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he says with your final words, your permission. Joel suddenly hauls you up towards the head of the bed so you’re resting against his pillows. He shucks off his flannel and t-shirt, undoing the belt buckle of his pants in such a timely manner, if you weren’t watching him intently you might’ve missed it.

He’s kissing you, rubbing his cock through the slick of your folds, you remember the punch of his girth and how the length of his cock almost kissed your cervix, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be prepared for that feeling, especially now, when you’re pent up, and tense and you just need him.

“God, feel fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he says, running the tip of his cock through your folds, when it hits your clit you buck up against him, but he falters.

“Easy.”

His voice, his drawl, a bit darker, but you’re not scared. Like he said before, he can’t go easy, he can’t be gentle. You don’t want him to, anyway.

But what surprises you is when the tip of his cock comes to fit snug against your entrance, he falters. Almost like he’s asking the final permission, in a dark drawl that might almost sound whiny if he wasn’t so brooding—

“Can I? Please?”

“Yes. Joel, yes, please — ngh —” he cuts you off, sinking into your heat with a tight thrust, you’re surprised at the stretch of his length, it’s like he barely fits.

“What…Jesus — you —?”

“Didn’t touch myself much,” you admit, knowing what he’s saying; How are you so fucking tight?

“Was trying not to think — ngh — about you.”

Your face feels a bit hot when you remember your phone call half a week ago. It was one of the first times following the night at the bar you touched yourself, and there was definitely no time to see anyone in the last couple weeks.

Joel can evidently feel that too, groaning when he sinks in to the hilt, his breath punching somewhere near your ear, his hand bruising your waist with the force that he grips you with.

“You gotta relax, baby, I —”

“Please just — move, Joel,” he laughs a bit at your neediness, but it’s cut off with a groan as he moves, retreating a fraction of an inch before pushing back in, rending your breathless, boneless.

He picks up his pace when you start to relax around him, mold to him, like he’s the only one who will ever fit inside you. His groans and grunts are no match to mask your whimpers, his praises ring through your head, you feel weightless.

“Fuckin’ perfect, angel,” he groans, you claw at his back, probably leaving scratch marks but you’re too fucked out to care. “Just like I remembered.”

It feels like old times. Before all this mess, before the incident in the car, on the porch, outside the bar. Before Tommy, or Caroline, or Janet fucking Baker. Before everything. Before all the laters and everything unsaid. Like old times. Like he’s saying Hi for the first time and not Goodbye like he has been for the last week.

His grip on your waist tightens if possible — so much for wearing a bikini tomorrow at the party. The bite of his fingers almost snap you out of it, but he feels so good, teetering you right on the edge of painful as he spears into you with no remorse. It’s like he can’t help himself, and he probably can’t considering all the blue balls over the last few weeks.

For some reason that spurs you on further, your orgasm quickly approaches with each stab of his fingertips digging into you, his hot breath near your face, and the feeling of coarse hair nudging at your clit just right.

“J-Joel,” you moan, but you don’t think you have to tell him you’re close. You know he can feel it.

“Missed you so much – fuck, baby,” he groans, placing hot kisses on your neck, “Needed you. Needed this.”

“Joel—” it’s already braced on your lips, you both know it. An unspoken ritual that feels way too possessive for either of your own good — but you say it anyways and he groans all the same.

“Can I cum? Joel, please?”

You don’t really hear much aside from his small yes and your vision blinks white as you moan out long and deep into his ear. He fucks you through it, grunting out praises when he feels you get impossibly tight around him.

It might even be too much but you don’t care.

You wait for him, your aftershocks sending him closer to his own release as his hips stutter and he gets out one last demand that sends him over the edge.

“Say it’s me — sweetheart. Please,” he groans, almost begging. Like it’s the last thing that will push him towards bliss.

“‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you,” you comply and feel him groan and shudder when his orgasm rolls through him. You can feel the hot stickiness of it roll through you, and he holds himself up to whisper one last thing to you before you both slump onto the bed and fall asleep.

“Tell him no. Tell him — just — just be with me.”

You nod, panting, he finally falls into the crook of your neck and you welcome it graciously, pulling at his curls until you fall asleep.

“Okay,” you whisper.

chapter vi. bruises

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

@sofiparallel @akah565 @going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @defnotashifter @missgurrl @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @violinchick @rhoorl @yoongjennie88

@rainbowcosmicchaos @pedropascalissofine @purplemechanics @suzmagine @untamedheart81 @hellaradd @josephine1837 @noisynightmarepoetry @lawh0re @joelsversion @vanillen @brujitafantomatico @cartoon-garbage04 @jpbplvr @whattownheadshake @beccerjune @pedrotonin @sen-mirjahaal @awesomebunnyqueen @bluetattoos @sunnysaphira @vickywallace @bbyanarchist @gossipgirl-03 @casa-boiardi

@anavatazes @joeldjarin @l0vem3n @brinabees @lmariephoto37 @tsunamistorm123 @splicer13vex @turtles-all-the-way-d0wn @withasideofmeg @dinwifey

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whoreforred · 10 months

Text

Needs

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha had a very long week and needs to wind down with the help of a friend.

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding (N), praise kink, bottom!natasha, FWB

AN: This is my first fic!!! Also not a veteran on tumblr so the format could be weird im trying ok!!

The light from your bed-side lamp cascaded over the book you were reading. After a long week you always put some time aside to read so you could clear your head, even if it was at 2am. It was the best time to get lost in a book. The compound was nearly dead silent with only the sounds of light rain pinging on your window. Though you had been reading the book for a few hours now, you caught your mind drifting away from the pages and onto a certain red head.

You and Natasha's relationship was quite simple. If one of you had an itch to scratch, the other would scratch it. This sort of mutual understanding had been going on for quite some time now.

You kept trying to keep your eyes on the page and the books scenery in your mind, but the story kept slipping away. You reread the same page over and over trying to push your urges away, and just as you were about to give up your phone vibrated.

You looked off into the distance and a small smirk ran across your lips as you knew no one else but Natasha would text you at this hour.

You grabbed your phone and saw the message,

I need you.

You couldn't help but smile a little bit. It's like you and Natasha's bodies were in tune with one another.

You adjusted your boxers a bit as the text seemed to send some heat down to your core. It had been over a week since the last time the 'benefits' part of your friendship came into play. Even so you had hardly seen her besides a few passing glances at meetings. You knew it was because Fury had her on several cases that required a lot of paperwork, and no matter how many times you told Natasha to stand up for herself and set boundaries on the amount of work she could take, she never did.

You typed back,

the door is unlocked

You set your phone back down on the nightstand and let the anticipation set in.

You relaxed back into the leather of your chair and hoped she would be at your door sooner rather than later. But in the meantime you picked your book back up to pretend you were still following along.

Only a handful of minutes later the door to your room opened slowly and in stepped an exhausted assassin. She didn't make eye contact with you as she shut the door quietly and stayed there with her hand on the doorknob, lingering.

Just as you were about to ask her what she was doing she turned around and locked eyes with you. Those green eyes conveyed a very deep lust that you could read immediately. However, you didn't fail to notice her heavy eye bags.

You broke the gaze as your eyes traveled over her body and took in her figure. All she was wearing was an oversized flannel, barely buttoned up, with a pair of underwear. You nearly went slack jawed as you locked eyes with her yet again and she made her way over to you.

She gingerly took the book out of your hands, folded the page you were on so you wouldn't lose your place, and set it next to your phone.

She slowly climbed onto your lap and set her hands on your shoulders as she kept eye contact. Your hands found their way onto her hips and you gently squeezed.

At a near whisper, she said "I'm sorry I'm so needy", and at that your face screwed up in disbelief.

Your hands kneaded into her thighs and you lowly replied "don't ever apologize for having needs, Natalia." She pulled her bottom lip in slightly and finally broke eye contact to look down. You caressed her cheek and she looked back at you with hooded eyes. You closed the distance between the two of you to ghost your lips over hers. Her breath hitched at the intimacy. Just as you noticed her shallow breathing she closed the distance and kissed you hard. Her lips danced with yours and you inhaled her vanilla scent, wishing she had come to you sooner.

The pace remained slow and sensual as your hands traveled up her back and began to trace all of her muscles. Natasha felt something deep inside her begin to churn with every kiss from you. She had not seen you all week because of the mountains of paperwork, mission planning, and training she had to do. She needed a release. Bad. But she kept the pace slow, deep, romantic even, as she didn't have the energy to do much else.

Her hands began exploring your chest and she subconsciously began to grind into your lap. Both you and Natasha groaned into each others mouths at the sensation.

One of your hands came up to start unbuttoning her top while she moved down to your neck. Once she found your pulse point, she began to suck and a throaty groan left your mouth.

You pushed her back a little so you could remove her shirt. You slid it off her divine figure and discarded it to the floor. Her supple breasts were on full display for you and she leaned closer so you could touch. You kissed up the valley between her breasts and then up her throat as your hands finally found their way to her nubs. She let her head fall back and kept grinding into you as you left open mouthed kissed along her collarbone and your hands continued exploring her chest.

She moved slightly so that she was straddling only one of your legs, and when she began grinding you could feel just how wet she was.

"Miss me that much, Nat?" You said, smirking into her neck at the feeling of her coating your thigh.

"You have no idea", she purred as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

You held onto her lower back with one hand, the other lightly massaging her thigh. You ran your thumb over a scar, memorizing its texture and ridges. She moved to hide her head in your neck as she started to really grind her hips against you.

You placed kisses on her shoulder and used your hand on her back to guide her into you.

"That's it Nat, good girl" you growled into her ear.

She moaned loud at the praise and felt an immediate surge to her core. You knew what she liked to hear better than anybody.

Her movements picked up again and you knew she was approaching her release as her grip tightened around your neck, fingers intertwined with your hair.

She let out little moans at every thrust and you moved your arms around her mid to keep her from falling over. As you bear hugged her you turned your head towards her face to see the look of bliss she was wearing.

With her eyes screwed tight and her mouth agape she went silent but her movements continued, and this is when you knew she was right at the edge.

You whispered, "Come for me, detka."

At that her legs began to convulse as she let out a pornographic moan. You felt her juices release onto your leg and held her close as she rode out her high. You smiled to yourself and kissed her cheek while her breathing began to slow back to a steady pace.

Once she had completely come down and her movements totally stilled, you observed the sweat covering her body and tried to pull her hair away from her face. You rubbed her back as she cooled down from her endeavors.

After a few minutes you felt her shiver and that's when you picked her up and carried her over to your bed. As you laid her down she didn't make any protests and instead silently got under the covers. You got a rag to clean her up and helped her into a shirt she had left over a few weeks ago. She sunk back into the bed and let sleep take over her.

As you lay next to her you wondered the direction your relationship would go to and whether or not it would ever be serious. You didn't go a day without thinking of her beautiful red hair and forest green eyes. But for now you were content with leaving your door unlocked for her.

#natalia romanova #natasha x reader #soft natasha romanoff #bottom natasha romanoff #Natasha romanoff #bottom!natasha #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff smut

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months

Text

Feels Just A Little Bit Better

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: being sad for unknown reasons, just feeling down, spencer being such a sweetheart to you <3

Request by @matthew-gray-gubler-lover: Hello i would like to request a story i have been having a really hard time lately a lot of crying and sadness, could i please have a story where spencer Reid sees how sad i have been and he helps me, fluff & smut please, thank you so much 💗

Summary: There are days when your depression and sadness hits you out of nowhere, and you can't go to work much less get out of bed. When Spencer sees you're not at work, he knows exactly why and decides to take care of you.

Square Filled: going into hiding for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Not everyone will have good days and it’s not expected for anyone to always have good days. There will be times when you get to work and have the energy to solve the case with enthusiasm and hope, and then there will be times when the only thing you have the energy for is to get out of bed.

But you don’t even have the energy for that right now. There is a weight weighing heavily on your chest that makes getting out of bed the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. This kind of sadness, this kind of weight sneaks up on you when you least expect it, not allowing you to get over it until a couple of days later. There is no way you can go to work like this so you grab your phone and send a message to Hotch.

So sorry but I don’t feel so good. I won’t be able to make it to work.

That’s fine. Stay home and get some rest.

The B Team is out right now so that lets your team catch up on paperwork and other things you’ve missed while being out. Hotch doesn’t mind if you sit this day out since it’s a break from the grueling work you see every day.

Spencer comes to work with two coffees in his hands, one for you and one for him. All he hears is how much you love the coffee from the local coffee shop and he has your order memorized like it’s his own. He doesn’t see you at your desk when he comes in so he sets your coffee down on your desk and waits for you. He waits ten minutes and gets concerned when he doesn’t see you. He leaves both coffees alone and heads to Hotch’s office.

“Hotch?” Spencer asks as he knocks on the open door.

“Come in.”

“Where’s Y/N?”

“She called in sick.”

Spencer knows you lied to Hotch. You’ve been feeling down this entire week when he noticed you not engaging in conversation with the rest of the team. You always have something to input so when you were silent, he knew something was wrong.

“Can I bring her some soup? I’ve already completed all my paperwork. You can call me if you need me here.”

“Yes, I know,” Hotch chuckles and pats the enormous pile of files on his desk. “That’s fine.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch has a lot of faith in his team so when they make requests like this, he’s encouraged to say yes. Plus, he knows if he calls Spencer, he would return immediately. Spencer packs his things and leaves without another word. You live fairly close to the BAU since you don’t like driving. It’s either a long walk or a short bus ride away, and you two would often ride the bus together.

Spencer is the only one who has a key to your apartment so he doesn’t bother knocking on the door.

“It’s me. I’m coming in,” Spencer announces. He walks to your room and sees you beneath the covers. The only part of you that is showing is your face and he can see the clear wetness of tears on your cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

All you can do is shrug. He leaves your room to gather supplies he knows won’t take your sadness away but will certainly help. It takes ten minutes for Spencer to grab what he needs and comes back with movies, some snacks, a book, and some water.

“What are you doing?” you mumble.

“Keeping you company,” he smiles.

“Go back to work, Spencer.”

“I already talked to Hotch about this. He’s cool.” Spencer gets into bed next to you and lays all the snacks out for you. You turn to face him with dried tears and wet eyelashes. “I know you’re not probably hungry but I brought these just in case. If you get bored with the movies, I have a book I can read to you.”

“What are you really doing here?”

“I know you’re sad. You don’t have to tell me why but I’m gonna keep you company until I know you’re gonna be okay.”

A new wave of tears wash over you from how nice he’s being. He wraps an arm around you, pulls you into his chest, and plays the movie. You can’t tell him why you’re sad because you don’t fully know yourself. The only thing you do know is that you feel ten times better in his arms, and for that, you smile.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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soothinglee · 4 months

Text

rainy days⏤✰

lee felix x reader | 0.8k✔︎

my notes⎯ I hope you like this one! I personally love when it rains so why not combine my two favorites! lets cross our fingers and hope I can get another story out by tomorrow. also I found that I get a lot of inspo at 4 a.m, something about the peace and quiet!

warnings ⎯ none! just some (failed) light-hearted humor.

genre⎯ fluff

songs⎯ prelude in e minor, op. 28, no. 4

⎯ catalog for skz✰

the forecast on the news had told viewers that there was an expectant rain shower coming in from the south. nothing too heavy where you had to be worried about ringing out your drenched socks and fighting back when the wind upturns your umbrella.

that weather man is a liar.

the downpour that hits your windows drums in a consistent pattern, puddles of rain water pools on the window ledge, the wood begins to warp after countless efforts of stopping the leak from the cracks in the seal, ultimately ending in vain.

you had ditched the soaked towels for a warm cup of tea, wrapped in a wool blanket on your couch as a re-run of some over-rated show plays on the monitor. it had be only 30 minutes since you last heard from felix; he had texted you notifying that practices had ended early due to the unpredictable storm coming in, how chan firmly told them to stay safe on the way home and how 'fatherly like' he was acting.

in return you heart his message and send back a- he's right! no texting while driving! see you soon!

due to the rain clouds hovering over the sun the sky had darken in the short amount of time it took felix to get home, and when he did he did not try to hide it.

from the kitchen, where you were huddled over the kettle on the stove, you heard the front door smack open and seconds later a loud squelching sound.

"babe?" he drawls out, unmoving from where he stands, "can you uh, can you come here?" theres a comical desperation in his voice and you can't help the chuckle that slips from your lips.

you ditch the mug in your hand to cater to your helpless boyfriend, who stands there with his arms eagle spread, hair stuck to his forehead and neck like glue. there was a faint smell to him that started to over power the candle you had light awhile ago.

"phew," you huff, holding your nose walking towards him. a amused smile graces your lips, "you smell bad."

he rolls his eyes and lets you take his jacket off his back and watches you drop it to the floor, "yeah yeah, just hurry please? it's starting to get itchy and I don't know if its me or outside but something isn't right."

"yeah you think?" felix lets out a laugh and attempts to grab you with his wet sleeve but you manage to slip away in due time, though not without a scar. the backside of your sweater has a long wet strip in the middle of it. "look at what you did to me!"

"how about you quit complaining and help me!"

"nobody told you to go out and not bring an umbrella."

"(name)!" he takes his second jacket off and leaves it where the other lays and begins to remove his shoes. he takes a second to look at it, then at you, and then tips it over. a bucket full of water pours from the sole and onto the circle carpet underneath him.

as you stand there you can't help the horrific expression that makes its way onto your face. neither of you say a word as you watch the last couple droplets fall before you sniffle and shake your head blankly, "that's just disgusting."

felix, with the same expression says, "tell me about it, I wore it."

after a second you shake your head to clear the revulsion and go to grab all the discarded clothes. they feel ten times more heavy in your arms due to them being in a bundle so you rush towards the laundry room to leave them there. on your way you shout to felix, "go in the kitchen and finish off the tea! I started it before you came in."

Felix makes a delighted noise and you hear his bare feet smack against the floorboards, "for me?"

you roll your eyes though he can't see it and round the corner to where he stands hovering over the sugar and honey, "duh, but save me some."

"of course." his voice comes out as a soft mumble and you can't help but smile.

both of you stand there in each other company. it was peaceful, the sound of the rainfall against the roof of your apartment, fighting its way inside through the windows. the occasional clink of the spoon to the mug as felix stirs in the sugar. no bright overhead lighting, the only source of lumination was the small table lamp in the next room. you close your eyes to take it in. it made you feel serene.

a light weight is pressed onto your shoulder and you open your eyes to find felix looking at you with a glimmer of concern, "you okay?" he whispers, careful not to rip the ambiance with his voice.

you hum, a gentle smile taking over your face as you lean forward and place your head on his hand, "never felt better."

#lee felix x reader #Lee Felix x you #Lee Felix x y/n #skz x y/n #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids #bang chan #lee felix #soothinglee

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theyarewrestling · 27 days

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Dan and Phil, The Blair Witch Project, and taking back agency.

In their latest video, «DanAndPhilCRAFTS - Slime» Dan and Phil have made a very clear homage to the 1999 found footage film «The Blair Witch Project» directed by Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez. The movie tells a story about a group of students, who travel to a small town in order to film a documentary about a local legend. In the process of filming, however, they get lost in the woods and never make it out of there, being haunted and then presumably killed by the witch. In this essay I am going to analyze how the visual narrative is structured in both films in relation to one another, the way «Slime» differs from «Blair Witch» and how that difference conveys the shift in Dan and Phil’s public presence.

Let's start with imagery associated with the paranormal in both films. In Blair Witch one of the signs of the witch's presence become the "dolls" made out of sticks. They are filmed by the characters, who are naturally freaked out by the dolls appearing seemingly out of thin air, signaling the presence of the dangerous and inhuman Other.

Dolls are also used in Dan and Phil's video, the main difference being that the pair are not haunted by the paranormal and unexplainable Other, no, they willingly put the dolls there, they are taking active steps in bringing about their own doom.

While in «Blair Witch» the dolls are placed ominously in between tree branches, filmed from below to make them look like they’re floating above the camera, being forces of a power that the characters ought to be afraid of, in «Slime» the dolls are nailed to a steady surface at camera-level, and while they do provide an unnerving atmosphere, they are not a danger to the characters, at least not a danger they’re not aware of.

The same can be said for other "occult" imagery and artifacts. While in «Blair Witch» the characters finding strange symbols and even bloody remains in the forest strengthens the tension and suspense, signaling the close presence of the witch, in «Slime» all of the unnerving, "occult" and "satanic" exists under the characters' control. Dan draws the symbol on the wall himself, the animal skulls are presumably also brought in by the characters. Instead of being signs of danger, uncontrollable, they are merely tools in the hands of the pair.

The interior of the shack where the students meet their end in the 1999 film is filthy and decaying, which only strengthens the fear within the characters and us as the audience. It is filmed using close up shots which show the shack in it's decrepit and unnerving state. The shack that Dan and Phil's video is filmed in also seems abandoned from the interior, it is broken down, dark and dusty. However, instead of being mortified, like the characters of «Blair Witch», they occupy the space quite comfortably. Instead of being haunted by the building, they become the ones who haunt it, once again taking back control of their own demise. The interior is filmed at strange angles, almost reminiscent of German Expressionist films, in which the odd angles conveyed the detachment from reality and perpetual insanity, which in Dan and Phil's case could be used to depict the pair's descent into madness which leads them to their ritual.

Nature plays a crucial role in «Blair Witch» as the witch herself is never shown. The characters are "surrounded" by the unnerving dark trees, which presumably hide the horror that is never allowed to be seen directly.

Dan and Phil make an obvious homage to that with their shots of the trees, however there is a major difference. While the shot is still desaturated and somewhat unnerving, the flowers on the tree are in bloom, symbolizing a new beginning and the hope that comes with it. The new "life" that is going to happen after the pair summons Baphomet.

In «Blair Witch» Heather's final message is a long shot filled with pure fear and desperation. Dan and Phil's shot mimicking it is almost unnecessary as it lasts only a few seconds, however in those few moments it manages to showcase the pair as a unit, they are calm and in the process of their ritual, determined to bring it to fruition. While Heather is left alone in the dark forest in which she will die, Dan and Phil are not alone: they are in this together, they are a team. If they die, it's because they chose to do so. "Creativity is nothing without friendship".

Now for the infamous "Blair Witching it in the corner". In this memorable scene from the 1999 film one of the students is stood in the corner facing the wall. Heather and the audience both know that, according to the Blair witch mythology, this position is a prelude to being killed, as that is how the murderer, who was persuaded by the witch, used to place his victims, for he couldn't bear to look them in the eyes. This face-to-the-wall position conveys pure helplessness at the hands of the persecutor. In «Slime» there is a scene that makes an obvious homage to the «Blair Witch» scene: Phil is stood in a dark corner of a room, the shot is in black and white. There is, however, a stark difference: Phil is facing the camera. With just this one change the scene no longer feels like a display of helplessness. Phil is looking straight at us, he is not a victim at the hands of unknown horrors, he is in control.

The way the "monster" is presented in both films differs significantly. A big part of the horror in «Blair Witch» is our inability to ever see the witch herself. The "monster" not being shown to the camera is a trope as old as low-budget horror: it helps build suspense and also hides the lack of budget. In «Blair Witch» the rapid movement of the camera also makes it feel like the horror is too great for a human mind to comprehend, too great to be caught on camera, Lovecraftian in nature.

The 1999 movie starts with the characters interviewing Blair locals, who tell the characters and us, the audience, the legend of the Blair witch. The witch was sentenced to death for practicing witchcraft, so she haunts those who try to disturb her peace. Here we can make the connection between those persecuted for "practicing witchcraft" aka being Other with being queer and being othered and, historically, persecuted for it.

This interpretation correlates well with the fact that the "monster", in this case the devil Baphomet, is present in «Slime». More than that, Dan and Phil actively seek him out. In the final scene of the short film, Baphomet has his arms around the pair, claiming them. The characters are willingly allying themselves with the Other. Dan and Phil see the "monster" and yet they do not run away, instead, they worship him. In the theme of reclaiming your agency, this could symbolize coming out, proudly and purposefully becoming part of the Other.

They are doomed from the start, but they are not helpless victims of the Other, scary and unknown, they are the ones bringing about their own doom. This is taking your agency back, and I feel like this narrative rhymes really well with Dan and Phil's current presence on the internet. While the early years of their careers were filled with public speculation and being stripped of their agency, something that "was just theirs" being scrutinized by the public, which definitely affected the way they had to behave, their current self-described "chaos era" is very different. They no longer make the effort to pretend to be anything they're not. They are the ones in control of the narrative, keeping their private life private, while also sharing way more openly and freely, knowing that we know and not really caring about the public's perception, as post coming out they have taken the power and agency back into their own hands.

#i cracked and wrote my own analysis #putting this under the cut cuz its long BUT IT HAS PICTURES PLEASE LOOK #sorryy if some phrasing is wonky or awkward haha i can't always tell what doesn't sound natural in english #there were a few more shots that were direct homages to specific blair witch shots but they dont differ much and idk what to say about thos #the beauty of experimental cinema specifically is how it can only mean as much as the viewer is willing to put into it #so by overanalyzing and creating our own meaning we're entering a dialogue with the film #we're a bunch of sick freaks who write essays for the love of the game huh #dan and phil #phan #<- for the bit

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ladykailitha · 17 days

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Across a Crowded Room Part 5

Here we go! The last chapter of this short story that was only supposed to take a couple hours and be absolutely light and fluffy.

*checks notes* yeah this thing was none of that!

But I hope you like the ending!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

****

Eddie found a table quickly. That was the best part about going in the morning on a week day. While the colleges were out, the school age kids were still in class so the zoo was practically empty.

He pulled out his phone to check any messages he may have gotten, when his phone lit up with Nancy’s number.

He sighed, wondering if he should just let it go to voicemail, but he figured he might as well rip the bandaid off.

“Hello!” he said.

“Eddie!” Nancy said. It was clear she was already irritated. “Did you hear that Robin is staying with some stranger when she moves out to New York?”

Robin had in fact called him after she called Steve because she was avoiding calling Nancy.

“It would be no different if she was moving into the dorms,” Eddie reminded her. “The girl she’s staying with is the cousin of one of her friends so she’s not a total stranger. Plus they talked first to see if they could tolerate each other enough to be roommates.”

Nancy sighed. “It’s just I was really looking forward to having her on my couch, you know? After Jonathan left me, I really wanted the company.”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. After Steve opened his eyes last night, he was starting to see a pattern to Nancy’s relationships. She was in a word, a serial monogamist.

“Yeah,” he said instead. “But it’s good she has a place to move to right off the bat so she isn’t living out of a suitcase, like she has been all this week.”

Another sigh. “You’re right, of course. I just worry about her. She’ll be on the other side of the city and we won’t be able to see each other that often.”

Eddie silently cheered. “That’s too bad. Look, I’ve got to go, Steve’s due back any second.”

“So how is Steve these days?” Nancy asked. “I heard he graduated from college.” But the way she said it, she made it sound like a fucking miracle.

Eddie chuckled. “Things are great! We went apartment hunting yesterday and decided to go to the zoo today.”

There was silence on the line for a beat too long before she said, “It’s good you two are reconnecting.”

“Oh there has been a lot of connecting all right,” Eddie said with a smirk. “With our hands, our mouths, our dic–”

“What?!” she shrieked. “You and Steve are dating?”

He puffed out his chest in pride. “Yeah. We finally got on the page on Monday after I got into Chicago. It’s been really great.”

“And you’re already moving into together, isn’t that fast?” she asked, her voice quivering.

Eddie looked up to Steve smiling down at him. “Look, he’s here. I’ve got to go.”

“Edd–”

Nancy didn’t get to finish his name because he had hung up on her.

Steve rolled the cooler over to the table and hefted it onto its surface. “Nancy I’m guessing.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “How did you know that?”

“Robin called me,” he muttered. “Said she was really upset that Robin was moving in with Cassie–”

“Chrissy, love,” Eddie gently corrected.

Steve snapped his fingers. “That was it, yeah. Chrissy. Anyway, Robin said Nancy was upset that she wasn’t staying her because she wanted ‘girl bonding time’ or some shit.” He started unpacking their food. “Like Nancy didn’t recently come out as bi.”

Eddie sighed as he got to work, too pulling out the plates and utensils. “You said we shouldn’t call Nancy last night to blast her, so I called Jonathan. I wanted to know what he said about their break up.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Eddie hummed. “He told her wanted couple’s counseling because he felt like the relationship had become more unbalanced lately and he wanted to make it work out.”

Steve opened their sides and sat down next to him. “I’m guessing that went over like a lead balloon.”

Eddie took a chip from the bag and munched. “Pretty much,” he said around the chip. “So he gave her the ultimatum and she chose to break up.”

“I give her three weeks before she goes running back to him.”

Eddie snorted. “I bet she thought with Robin coming up to New York she could scoop up a new girlfriend.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

They settled into a comfortable silence as they ate their food. They cleaned up and walked back to the car.

“This was a fun idea,” Steve murmured. “Even if Nancy decided to call and put a damper things a bit.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “But I’m glad you had fun today.”

Steve chewed his bottom lip. “Would you like to go to dinner with me to that Italian restaurant I was telling you about yesterday morning?”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Like a proper date?”

“Yeah.”

“Hell yeah,” Eddie said, pumping his fist. “I’ll drop you off at your place so I can shower and change. And maybe tonight you could spend the night with me at the hotel?”

Steve grinned. “That sounds like great idea Eds. I’ll pack an overnight bag and bring it with me to dinner. Is that okay?”

Eddie pulled him in for a deep kiss. “I’m game.”

****

Steve showered and shaved. Whistling a happy tune, dancing to the song to the music in his head.

His phone rang and he walked over to the counter to see who it was. He rolled his eyes when he saw it was Nancy.

He sighed. It seemed that she had gone the rounds with Eddie and Robin and having gotten no where with them, decided to go to Steve.

“Hey.”

“Steve,” Nancy said, her voice clipped. “Eddie spends two days in your company and suddenly everything has changed. And certainly not for better. So I have to ask what the hell did you say to them?”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “You’re afraid I told them the truth about us.”

“There is no truth, Steve,” Nancy hissed. “You believed one thing and I believed another.”

“You can keep telling yourself that,” he said. “And Eddie and I got together when he got into town. We were to meet up for drinks. Originally he was supposed to get in around three and meet us for drinks at seven, but because of a tropical storm, his flight was delayed three times. So he got in, came to the bar, and kissed the hell out of me. I had barely got a hello out before we were kissing. So I literally didn’t have time to tell him anything.”

He could feel her brooding on the other end of the phone. “And as for Robin, when we met up for dinner after a disastrous apartment hunting her and Eddie commiserated about having to find a place in a new city. I suppose she was still feeling that when she spent the night at Kendra’s and told her all about it.”

The brooding intensified.

“Is there anything else you would like to accuse me of or can I go on my date with Eddie now?”

“That’s all,” Nancy huffed. “It just seems so sudden.”

“Life is like that,” he agreed. “And oh, never call me again. I’m blocking this number.”

He hung up and proceeded to do just that. He felt lighter than he had in days.

He grabbed his stuff and left the apartment with a smile on his face.

****

Eddie tapped on the wheel as he waited for Steve to come down. He was glad that things had smoothed out after that disastrous second day in ole Windy City.

The zoo was just what they needed to take their minds off of things.

When Steve came thundering down the stairs, Eddie wolf whistled. Holy fuck.

Steve was wearing a grey vest over a light blue button up, first three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up, and messily tucked into the tightest blue jeans Eddie had ever seen.

In other words, Eddie was doomed. He would be writing songs about Steve’s ass in those jeans for years to come. The boys were going to murder him, but god it would be worth it.

Steve opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, throwing his pack onto the back seat.

“You ready to go, baby?” Eddie asked brightly.

“Yup!”

Dinner was amazing. The conversation flowed as easily as Steve’s wine. Since Eddie was driving, he only had one beer that he nursed throughout the meal.

When they got back to the hotel, Eddie was relentless in his pursuit of Steve’s pleasure. He loved mapping out every freckle, every mole. Finding out which parts made him moan and which ones made him giggle.

Finding out he was ticklish under his right knee was a revelation to Eddie, because Steve would scrunch up his nose when he giggled and god, did that melt Eddie’s heart.

Sex was less intense then their first time, but more enjoyable for it’s learning of each other’s bodies.

They cleaned themselves up and got ready for bed. Eddie licked his lips when he saw that Steve didn’t bring any pajamas.

“Is this how normally sleep or is this a show just for me?”

Steve looked down at the one scrape of clothing covering his body and shucked off his underwear. “I usually just wear briefs to bed because our apartment is awful. It’s freezing in the kitchen and front room, but ass hot in bedrooms.”

Eddie eyed Steve’s body as he thought about joining him in the naked sleeping thing. “Why don’t you go full frontal?”

Steve snorted. “Robin.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to Steve’s. “Oh. Right. Roommate who doesn’t like man bits, not wanting to see said man bits even accidentally. Got it.”

“And depending on my next place I might need to sleep with five layers and twelve blankets or nothing at all,” Steve said with a giggle.

“Can I vote for nothing at all?”

Steve laughed.

They crawled into bed. Eddie had chosen to at least put on pajama bottoms because he didn’t like the idea of having his balls touch those sheets.

Once they were cuddled up in bed Steve murmured, “Nancy called me right before you showed up.”

Eddie sighed. “Because of course she did. What did she want?”

“To blame me for you two turning on her,” he explained.

Eddie frowned and moved back enough to look Steve in the eye. “What? I don’t think Robin and I said anything to that affect.”

“Oh I know,” Steve agreed. “But she thinks I tricked you into dating me and conjured Chrissy from thin air all to ruin her life.”

Eddie snorted. “Once you told me about the cheating I told Uncle Wayne about it, and he said that there were a lot of things off about Nancy that he had noticed over the years and wondered why I hadn’t seen them, too.”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Because she didn’t want you to see them. I don’t blame you for it.”

Eddie kissed him. “Thank you for that. But anyway, the point is that once he said that, it was like someone had turned on the light and could see everything so much cleared and everything was only ever for her benefit, she was just really good at making you feel like it was for yours too.”

He pulled Steve in close. “But the blinders are off, babe. I’m one hundred percent yours.”

Steve smiled. “That’s all I could ever ask for.”

Eddie kissed him soundly and then they settled into sleep.

****

Steve rarely slept in, but sleeping in Eddie’s arms apparently made his internal clock line up with Eddie’s instead.

He woke up and groggily looked at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table and blinked at it. He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn it said 10:54am.

That couldn’t be right. He picked up his phone and nope. Apparently that was the correct time.

Then he realized what had woke him. Eddie came out of the bathroom with a fond smile on his face.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted, bending down to kiss Steve on the lips. “I’ve ordered us some food, but alas it has to be lunch at this point.”

Steve chuckled and slid out of bed. “I blame you entirely for that, by the way. I never sleep in like that.”

“It’s good for you,” Eddie grinned. “Especially after the roller coaster of emotions that has been the last few days. Your body needed rest, so you got it.”

Steve nodded. “I figure we can go out today and look at more apartments, if you’re up to it.”

“Sure thing, babe.”

There was a knock on the door and Eddie went to go answer it as soon as Steve was in the bathroom.

Eddie tipped the guy and they settled down to eat their brunch, such as it was.

While they ate, Eddie and Steve pulled up several different apartments that could work for them with their budget and made a list of out of the links based on how close they were to Eddie’s hotel.

Steve showered and got dressed. He packed up his stuff and threw it in the back seat of Eddie’s rental.

The first one was a bust. Literally. A pipe had burst the night before and the owner had been working on getting it fixed, so he hadn’t updated the site. It wouldn’t be livable for two months. Well past when Steve or Eddie needed to be moved in by.

So they moved on.

Crumby landlords, obvious signs of pests, and high prices struck again.

They stopped for dinner.

“Fuck,” Eddie groused. “I’m going to be making a fair amount, but not enough for these prices.”

Steve nodded. “It’s why I was living with Robin. Everything is just too expensive these days.” He chewed on his lip for a moment.

“Move in with me!” he blurted.

Eddie looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“We both loved that third apartment we saw,” Steve explained. “It had two bedrooms and two full baths. It had a nice kitchen and was already wired for internet. Neither of us can afford it alone, but...”

Eddie gulped and pursed his lips. “And you’d want that, with me?”

Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a fond smile. “Let’s do that, then. You can move in right away and get things set up and then when I move to Chicago at the end of the month, I can just slide right in.”

Steve kissed him fiercely and then called the landlord.

Two hours later they were the proud renters of a brand new shiny apartment.

A lot of their friends thought that they were moving a little too quickly getting an apartment together, but Eddie and Steve knew it was the start of something wonderful.

And really that was the best outcome either one of them could have hoped to dream for when they had made plans for Eddie to come out to Chicago.

Robin and Chrissy got along so well, that before classes even started in the fall, Robin had moved into Chrissy’s bedroom and they turned the second bedroom into a dance studio for Chrissy.

Nancy tried getting back with Jonathan a month later as Steve predicted, but he told her to get therapy and moved back to California to be with his mom, who had retired out there.

Steve didn’t know if she ever got the therapy she needed, but he hoped she did.

Eddie’s band was making lots of great progress on their album and the company was getting ready to release their first single. A little song about finding love right when you needed it most.

Steve had gotten a teaching position at a middle school as their basketball couch and US history teacher.

He was happy with the life he had, he didn’t need to worry about the life he’d lost when he broke up with Nancy all those years ago.

It was too soon to think about marriage, but Steve had a ring that he had bought years ago that he thought would look good on Eddie’s hand. But they had time.

And wasn’t that just amazing.

****

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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