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sinofwriting · 6 months

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It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)

Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse

Jeddah 2022

Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.

He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.

He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.

“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver's room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be. “What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words. He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs. The taller man stills.

Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.

And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.

Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.

She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.

“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.” “What?” “She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.” “She’s never liked Red Bull.” “You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.

It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.

“Doesn’t make sense.” “No it doesn’t.”

—

“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue. She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.” He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.” “Was there a reason you called, Nico?” “What? I can’t check in on my sister?” She rolls her eyes again, but grins. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.” “Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.” “And you still want to do this?” “Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.” “And Mercedes?” “I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.” “Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.” “Careful as can be.”

Australia 2022

He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.

So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.

Imola 2022

“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them. “I retired from the last race.” “And that was the last race.” He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, Schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?” She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”

He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.

Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.

“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, Schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed. She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You're my lucky charm.” She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.” “I know.” She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.

“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her. She nods but doesn’t look at him. “Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.” “You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.” He flushes at her words. “I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.” “Then I won’t.” He tells her. She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.” “Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.” She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je Max.” He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, Schat.”

He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.

“Fuck me, Max.” He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes. She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”

She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.” He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.

As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.

The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it's okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?” She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before. “Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.” “Inside Max. Please, inside me.” He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.

His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.

“You’re going to kill me.” “With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?” “With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does. She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.

Miami 2023

It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It's the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.

She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.

She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.

Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?

He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.

He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?” She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.” The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.

Spain 2022

He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?” “Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why. “What did you hear?” “Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.” The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.” He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.” “Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.” “Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.

Monaco 2022

She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco. The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.

He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.

Austria 2022

She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.

It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.

July 2015

“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep. He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine. “When do you stop?” He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?” “When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?” His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.” She nods, “and as a kid?” “December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.” She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him. “Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend's reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.” She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done. “She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.” She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.” Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.” She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.” “Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.” “Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.

Spa 2022 They're making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.

It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.

“It’s nice having you here.” She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.” The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms. “A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?” “Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.” She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.” “Just for you.”

Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loved it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.

She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.

Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver's room and waits for him.

Dutch 2023

“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.

He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.

“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew. “How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Good. So has Nico.” He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”

Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.” She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.

Japan 2022

He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.

As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.

Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he’s done it a hundred times.

He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.

It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.

They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.

He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.

@cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @quackquackhun @crystals-faith @andreea-15-25 @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @benstormy @elliegrey2803

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #idkya verse

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gurugirl · 11 months

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A Balancing Act | Ch. 3*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Y/n has some explaining to do and Harry wants to show her exactly what he likes.

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, dom & sub dynamics (with use of implements), angst (light), mentions of death.

Word Count: 12,003

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

“She was married,” Harry started off their session before Pat even had a chance to sit in her usual spot.

“Who? Y/n?”

Harry nodded and sighed, “Yeah. She never told me. She’s not married now. Well, he died actually. Health condition. But I was… I just didn’t expect it. I mean…” he shook his head and crossed a leg over his knee, “I was surprised. Like… it’s a lot. You know? And it’s selfish of me to think this way but how can I be better than someone she loved enough to marry? And now he’s just gone and it’s not because he did anything wrong. She still loves him. It’s been a few years since he passed but she has this big wedding photo framed in her living room. That’s how I found out.”

Pat listened closely as Harry talked about how it made him feel. He’d gotten very good at being able to describe his feelings and was comfortable enough to verbalize them to Pat.

“So when you saw the photo what happened? I’m assuming you were at her home? You said it was in her living room.”

Harry looked up at Pat, “Oh yeah. I uh… went to visit her. We kind of had a rough go. She did find out about the girl I kissed so I flew out to see her. She was on a date and I… well I went to where they were and saw them and then-“

“Harry Styles! You did not!” Pat lambasted.

Harry gulped as he nodded, “I know. It was a questionable move. Quite immature of me, but she knows that it’s us. There’s no one else that she can connect with this way. She wound up leaving with me anyway so-“

“I’m gonna interrupt you again because I’m shocked! That is kind of the opposite of how you should have gone about seeing her again, Harry. Are you two still seeing one another? Talking?”

“Yeah, we are. She wound up telling me she liked me more anyway. It worked out. I know I shouldn’t have done it that way but it’s already done.”

“And here I thought you wanted to talk about how she’d kept a big secret from you. How you were hurt by it and how it made you feel. But having you go and intercept her during a date? She should have told you off, had you go back home. And you’re right. That was very immature. Feels like a step backward from all the work you’ve put in. You’re really good at making things happen and getting what you want,” she emphasized as Harry sighed and shook his head, “but sometimes it’s not healthy. What you did was very coercive. You can’t force your will on everyone, Harry.”

“I know. I told you I’m selfish. I don’t know why I did it. I just feel like she and I are really good for each other. I needed to make a move. Do something dramatic to prove it to her. Especially after she learned about the kiss.”

“And how did she take that news when you told her?”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and looked down at his hands.

“You were the one to bring her the information, correct?”

He shook his head, “She saw it in some gossip article.”

“And she still welcomed you and even left her date for you? Maybe you should have her come see me too. Sounds like you both could use some emotional support and therapy.”

Harry grinned and gave Pat his sweet puppy dog eyes, “Maybe. Perhaps I can convince her to move in with me and you can see us both.”

“Okay. I think you’re moving too fast here.”

“I don’t. I’ve never felt this way before, Pat! I know it’s insane but I’m not kidding you when I tell you that she’s really good for me. I’m good for her too. Like… I’d marry her tomorrow if I could. I’m so down to just be with her.”

The therapist nodded, “So, you’re not actually bothered by the fact that she has a dead husband?”

Harry put his leg down and leaned back into his chair, “No. I am upset. Not at her because I understand why she didn’t tell me. It doesn’t make me not want to be with her. It’s just something to contend with is all. It was a shock.”

“I bet. So you really feel very deeply for her then? And she feels the same?”

“I think she does. Asked her to be my girlfriend before I left Chicago too. I know it’s fast but she’s incredible.”

“Girlfriend, huh? That’s kind of a big step.”

“I know. I’m just… I think I love her. I can’t get enough of her. I’ve never felt like this.”

“I feel like you’ve fed me those same lines before.”

Harry shook his head and looked up at Pat, “No. I swear. This time is different. I know I can’t convince you of that but it is. I love to fall in love but with Y/n it’s like life. A gift.”

Pat sighed and put her notebook down. She could see that Harry was very excited about Y/n. That he did what he thought he needed to. And while she was used to his occasional antics of forcing his hand to get his way and the way he fell in love too fast; she could see that this was indeed a little different. Even with months apart he still went after her. He still seemed to be just as excited about her.

“I see that. I’m happy for you, Harry. So what are your plans with her for when you leave for Europe in two weeks? You’ll be gone for nearly two months again. How do you intend to maintain the relationship when you’re going to be apart for so long?”

. . .

One week earlier

Her heart dropped when she realized what he was looking at. She hadn’t planned on telling him this way. She had planned on telling him at some point. But it was always a strange thing to bring up to people who didn’t already know about her past.

Robert was a great guy. She met him in college when she was dating around. They had a few dates but then broke up and they both dated other people but remained friends for a couple of years. Until one day he told her he didn’t like her seeing other people. That it made him jealous. She hadn’t realized.

And she hadn’t really been jealous when he was going on dates with other women. But the notion that there was a man, who was her friend, that was jealous of her going on dates, wanted her, felt this way about her… well it was quite flattering and unexpected. And the rest is history.

They got married and bought the house she currently lived in. He was a high school teacher. A genuinely nice man. A bit of a homebody at times, but she loved him with all of her heart. After they’d been married for a year he was diagnosed with having Wilson’s Disease. He was born with it (which no one knew) but only ever started showing symptoms at age 25. And by then it was too late. He was already having some major health issues. His liver was failing.

Y/N knew something was wrong when he was slurring his speech badly one evening and they had only been drinking water. And then the following day he was still slurring and he called off work because he was too tired to get out of bed. So she booked a doctor’s appointment for him and after nearly a month of running tests, one doctor suggested a urine sample, and the labs came back the following day with high levels of copper. Which indicated cirrhosis of the liver, which then pointed to Wilson’s disease.

And only six months after his diagnosis, he was gone.

She and Harry sat on her couch and she told him everything. Harry was stunned. He didn’t even know she’d been married before. But to know her husband had died? And she did admit that she still loved him. But of course, she did. Harry didn’t know how he could compete with such a thing.

“Well… I guess that kind of killed the mood. Didn’t it?” She looked at Harry who had been pretty quiet throughout her confession.

“It’s just sobering,” he looked at her as he spoke, “but, maybe we could order something in to eat? Some wine? Talk some more?”

“Harry, you don’t have to sit here and listen to me talk about my dead husband. If you want to go you can. It’s okay. Really.”

Harry scrunched his brows together and pulled her hands into his, “That’s not… Do you still want me here?”

“Well, yeah. I mean I’ve come to terms with all of this already. I just know when I talk about it to people who don’t already know they always pity me and it changes everything. So, I’m just giving you an out.”

Harry cleared his throat and slowly dragged his thumbs over her knuckles, “I don’t want an out. I want to spend time with you. Maybe we can eat, though. Kind of let this idea settle a bit and then drink some wine and put a movie on. See where the night takes us.”

And so that’s just what they did. Y/n hadn’t eaten anything because she had left the restaurant with Harry before dinner was served. And Harry hadn’t eaten either. So it was actually a perfect idea.

They talked more. Harry was practically glued to her side. Holding her hand, keeping her glass of wine filled, watching her closely, brushing his fingers down her arms. They watched a movie and Harry pulled her into his chest as they lay together on her couch.

But after about thirty minutes of having Harry’s chest pressed into her back, she felt something hard and stiff tucked into her bottom. She hadn’t taken off the dress she wore on her date and Harry wasn’t watching the movie at all. He was looking down over her pretty profile, her hips, her bum…

When she felt his lips graze over the back of her ear she realized he wasn’t actually totally turned off about hearing of her past. In fact, he was very clearly aroused. Closing her eyes she let him gently press kisses down her neck and allowed him to pull her into him tighter, grinding his hips into her plush bottom and she was relieved he still wanted her at all.

At first, she thought that he was just being sweet. Because he was a sweet guy. Maybe he felt bad for her and didn’t want to make her feel bad so he stayed. But now? Well, she was quite excited by his sudden change in demeanor back to what it had been before they’d walked into her house.

Harry’s hand smoothed down her hip to her thigh and stopped at the hem of her dress before he began pushing the material upward, “Is this okay?” He whispered against her skin.

Y/n nodded and put her hand over his, assisting him in pushing her dress up, “Yes.”

That was all he needed to have them both return to the state they’d been in before he saw the framed photo of her on her wedding day.

“Good. Then let’s turn this terrible movie off and get you naked.”

She remembered him telling her he’d brought some things. But what his small suitcase revealed was not expected, a vibrating wand, black bondage tape, 2 sets of cuffs, and various sizes of clamps. And a bottle of lube.

Harry explained everything to her as he kissed her gently and removed her clothes, “We don’t have to use any of this. But I thought it would be fun to try. I think you’ll like some of these. Have you ever been tied up?”

Y/n shook her head as she ran her fingers over the smooth tape, “No. How does this work?”

He plucked the roll from her hand and began to unwind the tape as he spoke, “This won’t stick to your skin, it only sticks to itself. But it’ll work nicely to bind you. It’s not as harsh as rope and it’s easy to come off.”

When he pulled the wand out of the little cloth bag it was in he handed it to her, “Lie flat and put this over yourself. Place it where it feels the best and whatever setting you like the most.”

Harry was slowly getting into his dom mode and Y/n could see it. He started off gently and slowly. Lots of kissing, touching, talking… he had her feeling comfortable and she trusted him. The way he slowly kissed her arms and her tits, lowering his wet lips to the heavy underside of her breasts and squeezing her nipples as he dipped over her tummy and praised her, “Fucking gorgeous. Hard to believe I got so lucky.”

But when he told her to lie flat on the bed something had shifted into a different gear. It was a minute transition but it was noticeable. He unwound the tape as he watched her do as she was told.

She was completely naked while he was still dressed, which made her feel very vulnerable, exposed. She clicked the wand on to its low setting and placed the head in a spot she knew she’d like. It did feel good. She was already a bit wet from the kissing and the gentle touches but it didn’t take long for her to begin seeping and coating the vibrating silicone bulb that was pressed against her.

Harry kneed up to the bed and pushed her thighs further apart so he could see her better, “Because you’re new to this you probably don’t have any kind of safe word in mind yet. So if you don’t like anything, just tell me. Say stop and I will. If you like all this we can think of something to use in lieu of just stop. But for now, we’re not going to get too much into that kind of roleplay so no or stop will work.”

He wanted to show her the things he liked. These were all easy introductions into the way he liked to play and if they were going to be seeing one another more he felt it was good to start her out like this. Give her a slow, soft launch so she could explore the things she liked too. He’d move it up a notch later on. For now, the debut into dom and sub-dynamics would be very delicate because she had never played this way. Eventually, they’d both learn what she liked together, that is if she wanted to stick around.

She nodded and Harry leaned over her and took the wand from her hand, “Arms over your head,” she quickly moved her arms upward as he positioned the wand against her clit and used the bondage tape to secure it in place, wrapping the tape around the handle to the top of her thigh and keeping the vibrating bulb at her pussy to give her just enough stimulation.

He climbed up and pushed her over to her tummy, the wand still working its magic, and pulled her hands behind her back, “I’m going to bind your wrists together like this,” he showed her the position and paused to make sure she didn’t have any objections, “and then,” he pushed her legs up by their shins, her ankles and feet up, thighs down, “use the tape to bind your ankles too. Is this okay with you?”

She nodded, “Yes.”

“Ah ah ah… Yes who?” He chided.

She bit her lip and smiled, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry gave her a swat to her bottom, “There you go. I’ll give you one pass. If you forget to address me properly again we’ll take a break while I spank your bottom red.”

Her bottom stung from the one swat and she nodded, mostly to herself as he explained the rules. She couldn’t see the work he was doing because he was behind her but she could feel his hands on her skin and smooth tape wrapping around and between her wrists. It was gentle and he was right. The tape wasn’t sticky on her skin so it wasn’t pulling the fine hairs she had on her arms, which she was thankful for.

Then he used the tape on her ankles, securing them together in much the same way he did her wrists, around and in between. Meanwhile, the wand was still vibrating against her pussy and causing her heart to race. She didn’t know what to expect but this was quite exhilarating. Exciting. Harry was exciting.

“So pretty. Goddamn,” he said as he let his hands roam over her thighs and her bottom. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh and then smoothed his hands up to her low back before he moved his warm lips to the small of her back. She felt his hair ghost along her spine as he kissed his way up to her neck.

“How do you feel?” Harry’s voice was strained as he spoke.

“I’m good. Feels really good so far.” And it did. She wasn’t just saying it to appease him either. She loved this more than she could understand. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever delved into before. She hadn’t realized the way it would make her feel. She was a little nervous about her body on display for him in this way. She was chubby and this was quite the compromising position to be in when Harry Styles, with his very fit body, was in the room and inspecting all of her nooks and crannies. But there was something about being exposed to him this way, unable to move from being tied up, totally naked with all her parts available to him to see and touch that sent her adrenaline to spike.

She felt him push her ankles flat to the bed and then pull her up at her hips, causing her knees to dig into the mattress until her body was upright with her back into his chest. He stayed behind her bringing his hands up to her breasts and began palming over each, “How sensitive are your breasts? Do you play with them when you masturbate?”

Her brain was having a hard time focusing with the way he was touching her and speaking but she swallowed and closed her eyes to answer, “Uh… I think they’re pretty sensitive. Sometimes I squeeze them to make my nipples hard, but not all the time.”

Boobs weren’t really much of a part of sex for her. When Robert was alive he enjoyed them a lot. But to her, she could take it but mostly would have preferred to leave it. Because her nipples were quite sensitive and sometimes the stimulation was too much. So she generally would gently brush over her bud and work them up to get hard as she looked in the mirror. If she felt like playing with them. Which she usually didn’t.

“Let’s see what you like. Okay?” He continued squeezing and massaging the flesh, his thumbs focusing on her nipples, his lips on her neck causing her to keen and pitch her head to the side.

“Your nipples need some attention, Y/n. I can tell you’re very tender here,” he lightly pinched each nipple and she gasped, “See? We’ll take it easy. Work you up to something a little more stimulating.”

The sensation of the slow squeezing and soft pinches at her nipples was leveled out by the way he kissed at her neck and sucked her skin into his mouth, nipping very gently. Not to mention the vibrator taped into place and pressed to her pussy. Now, the way it was attached it wasn’t over her clit (thankfully she figured) but it was pulsating an inch below the spot that would have her losing it. The vibrations were strong enough that her whole core was feeling it, though, and she imagined it had been placed purposely in just that spot with the intent that she would slowly lose her mind until she was begging and aching for more.

So, yeah, everything he was doing was feeling really good. Having her nipples toyed with was even nice. The varying sensual touches were unexpected but quite welcomed. His whispered words were sweet and dirty.

“Oh baby, you are gonna be so ready for my cock when I’m done with you. Aren’t you?”

She nodded and her answer came out in a whine, “Yes.”

Harry chuckled and nosed at her ear, “Got the front of my trousers all wet. Would you like a taste of what your pussy is dripping?”

Another first… in bed with a man. She’d tasted herself out of curiosity a couple of times but never in front of anyone. She’d already gotten into it this far, she figured tasting herself would be fine so she nodded.

Harry removed a palm from her right breast and drew his fingers through her slippery cunt, spreading her labia and lathering his fingers in her before grasping her chin with his other hand and tilting her head back so he could watch as he stuffed his drenched fingers into her mouth.

She closed her eyes as his fingers dragged over her tongue and his knuckles rubbed at the roof of her mouth. She was just as she’d tasted before. It wasn’t a surprise but the gesture, the way it was happening, being held and tied and taken care of… it was hot.

“You taste so good, Y/n. Needed to share it with you. Let you taste first. Before I have my turn.”

Harry pulled his fingers from her lips and then brought his hands back down to her breasts and this time his mouth caught hers, keeping her head turned so he could have access, as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. She whimpered into his mouth and couldn’t believe how pathetic she sounded.

Slowly, he released her chin as he pushed her to bend at the waist with her ass in the air, face smushed into her mattress.

Harry groaned as he put his big palms over her round-as-a-plum bottom and squeezed. Her bum was his favorite. He’d never seen one so perfect. Her thick tush and soft thighs were beckoning to him. It was one of the first things he’d noticed about her when they first met in fact. And now here he was getting to touch it and smack it.

But before he could get to the piece de resistance he leaned in and licked over her glistening crease. She gasped as she jerked her body, not expecting a tongue to be gliding through her needy slit but that didn’t deter him. It only made him go in harder, lapping at her and moaning as he pressed in harder, the tip of his nose pressing into her anus as the vibrator was set as close to her clit as it could get.

She wanted to grab onto something but was unable to with her hands tied behind her back. Her face was smushed into the mattress as he ate her out from behind. Another thing she’d never been on the receiving end of. Being eaten out from behind with her bum hole exposed and a nose nudging into her. Probably smelling all of her.

“Harry!” She shrieked when he sucked her clit into his mouth and pushed two fingers in as far as they’d reach.

Harry chuckled as he kissed her pussy and moved away to speak, “Do I need to spank you? I really would prefer you to address me properly when we’re playing.”

She panted and squeezed her eyes closed as he continued fingering her, “Fuck… Daddy. Sorry.” It was hard for her to remember all the rules and calling anyone Daddy in this setting was foreign to her.

Harry got back to lapping at her leisurely. He could feel the vibrations from the wand making her labia buzz softly against his lips and his fingers.

He felt his cock digging into the inside of his zipper and it hurt. He needed to let the beast out for relief so he reluctantly backed away and undid his pants, pulling his cock out. He pressed himself to her entrance, letting the underside of his bare cock lather in her wetness.

She felt how warm he was as he let himself slide through her pussylips slowly. The vibrator was putting her on edge fast, “Please! Fuck me, Daddy…” she groaned lowly and Harry hissed when she backed herself toward him, his tip nearly getting swallowed by her drippy pussy.

“Yeah? Need Daddy’s cock? Which hole do you want it in?”

This had her suddenly caught off guard. She assumed something else but when his tip was pressed at her other hole she wasn’t sure how to respond.

Harry noticed her silence but wasn’t deterred, “It’s okay if you don’t want to try. But I think you’ll like it. I can start off using my fingers like last time, fuck your pussy for a bit and then let you decide if you think you want it.”

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s try that first,” her words were mumbled with the way her cheek was smashed into the bed.

He was prepared with a bottle of lube next to him and he squirted a healthy dollop over her bum, pressing the slick liquid into her hole gently with one finger. His thick tip was positioned at her desperate little pussy hole and he sighed at the view. One of his fingers taking up space in her bum and his cock ready to push its way inside, “Shit, baby. I have to grab a condom,” he spoke lowly as he toyed with her opening a little more, tempting fate and allowing the smallest bit of his cock to press into her cunt.

“No! Please, Daddy… just like this. Just fuck me. Please,” she was nearly shaking as she felt his smooth crown dipping into her. She wanted him bare. Wanted to feel him rigid and unsheathed inside of her.

Harry pulled in a deep breath and moaned. It was music to his ears. He hadn’t wanted a condom with her. He was desperate to push inside without any barriers and she was giving him permission.

Plunging in the smallest bit before pulling back out, his tip was coated in her arousal, “Yeah? You want Daddy’s cock raw, baby? Want me to fill you up now? Fuck you like I was meant to?”

She tried to push herself back onto him with the bit of movement she was able to conjure and she moaned when she felt him pushing into her, but this time, he didn’t pull out as he slid his second finger into her ass and plunged his wide cock into her pussy, spreading her apart, he groaned at how absolutely sopping she was already.

Much like the first time he fingered her ass and fucked her, the tension and the tight feeling were the same, but it felt good, the pleasure blossomed and felt heavy, thick, tangible. It was as if something inside of her was becoming unfastened. But unlike last time she had a vibrating wand sending shockwaves over her body leaving goosebumps under Harry’s hand when he touched her skin.

Oh, and she was bound by her wrists and ankle so there was that too.

Harry pressed into her until his balls were flush against her body and the vibrations of the wand were making his insides nearly burst. He didn’t want to come too fast, but he had been on edge for over an hour. An hour of torture. Beginning with their steakhouse restaurant bathroom antics, to the way she licked and sucked him in the car ride and until now. And not having a condom on was going to be something to contend with. The condom helped to decrease the delicious sensations he was currently feeling with her warm, wet walls squeezing around him tightly.

Harry slowly moved out and back in, watching his prick as her pussy gripped him and sucked him in, glazing his cock in her cream, dampening his pubic hair at his base.

Y/n loved the feel of him bare inside of her. He felt harder and thicker, the friction was more intense and the idea that he was fucking her without a condom was a turn-on as well. Her breathing deepened as she felt him dip into her so far it ached. He was going in slowly but every time he bottomed out he jerked himself into her as if to make a point about what they were doing. He was being gentle, but his cock was pressing into her guts and making space for its size.

He could tell her breathing was becoming labored and louder. She was arching her back slightly more and rolling her hips the best she could. She was searching for her orgasm. It was close. The intent was to fuck her slowly until she came and shivered and wept and begged. And then he’d fuck into her until she’d calmed and finger her ass deeper and harder until she was ready for his dick.

He angled his two fingers upward and twisted slowly as he rocked his hips into her. Everything was vibrating. His cock was throbbing and aching to come as he fingered her bottom and watched as she slowly got used to the intrusion.

“You can come, baby. Come on Daddy’s cock. Let’s see it.” He urged her.

She was so close. So so so close. Her body was sweating and buzzing. Her clit was just out of reach of the toy but she knew she could come. Her clit might not have had anything touching it directly but the wand was thrumming just below it and making her button pulse and jolt.

“I wanna come! I wanna come, Daddy…” she groaned as she pinched her eyes closed and felt tears forced from her lashes.

“Then do it, little girl. Fucking come, baby,” Harry continued using his fingers and his cock on her but he had to close his eyes. The sinful scene was too much for any mortal to withstand. Harry was going to come if he kept watching. He gritted his teeth as he felt her shaking and a soft rumble fell from her mouth. Her thighs stiffened and her gentle moans and gasps turned into breathy panting and then shouts of his name as she erupted in bliss on his cock.

Harry coughed out a gasp and continued his slow thrusts as his balls tightened readying for an orgasm. But he sucked in a sharp breath and let his mind wander to another place that gave him a second wind of sorts. Something to keep him from coming prematurely. He wanted to praise her and watch as she spasmed and pulsed around him but for the sake of good sex, he had to hold back. He needed to wait to come. His priority was her. And to be able to get the chance to fuck her ass.

When her shivering thighs slowly melted and her body relaxed Harry pulled out with a gasp. Just in the nick of time. He panted as he gathered himself, his throbbing cock was wet and cooled by the air of her bedroom, “Fuck baby. Almost made me come you felt so good.”

He kept his fingers inside of her, and now she was relaxed around his fingers. With his free hand, he gathered up her arousal on his fingers and smeared it around her hole before pushing a third finger inside of her. She moaned softly and opened her eyes at the feel of the extra finger pressing into her.

Her body was spent but there was still a spark of heat and arousal there. As if she hadn’t yet been fully satisfied, despite the intense orgasm she’d just endured. The vibrating of the wand was still going strong.

Harry poured a little more lube onto her anus as he pushed into her deeply, his fingers fully submerged, fucking into her.

“How does this feel?”

Sucking air into her lungs she felt the dampness of the blanket under her mouth where she’d drooled, “So good. It’s good, Daddy.”

Harry grinned as he began to increase his steady pace to something a little harder, faster. He held onto her low back as he fucked her ass with his fingers. The lube was making it slippery and her tight hole was easing up its grip little by little.

“Want me in here? Want to feel what it’s like to have Daddy’s cock stuffed in this little hole baby?”

She did. Yes, she did. So she nodded and grunted as she tried turning her head the slightest to see him.

Harry had composed himself considerably and he felt that he could last a bit longer, not much, but he could give her a nice preview of what it was like. A good handful of minutes, five he hoped he could last.

With his fingers still inside of her, he poured more lube over her backside, pressing the liquid in and around, and kissed her cheeks softly before finally, slowly, bringing his fingers out.

Harry bent down to continue softly kissing her tush. Making her keen as he neared the sacred little, undefiled hole he planned on desecrating.

When she felt his tongue glide from her core to her ass she shuddered. His lips and tongue on her anus were warm and wet and then she felt cool liquid drip and smear over her bum.

“Keep relaxed like you are, baby. Doing so good for me. Tell me to stop if you need. I will.”

He grasped her hips and tucked his front to her bottom, holding his shaft in his hands he pushed his tip to her hole as he massaged the spot just above her anus. His cock was already covered with her arousal as he began to gently, slowly, tactfully press in.

She immediately tensed and he stopped, “You’re doing good, baby. Just relax for me. Gonna push past this little tight muscle and then it’ll feel like heaven. Okay?”

She panted and nodded. The vibrating wand keeping her aroused and loose.

It was very tight. Harry knew, though, that once he passed the entry and had her spread apart she’d like it. It would feel incredible. Her little opening was slowly relaxing into the intrusion as he nudged his way in, little by little.

It hurt. She could admit that it hurt. But not in an unpleasant, no-go kind of way. In a this’ll only hurt for a second but will be worth it in the end kind of way. She knew that he would take care of her and he was so gentle and soft with his words and his touch that she urged her own body to relax and indulge with him.

The small snap of his tip pressing past her tight ring had her popping her eyes open and groaning. The sting of it made her sinuses burn but then… oh… then it was… oh my! Heavy and achy and divine. Something flipped over from an unpleasant sting to an intense need that wound its way over her backside. Goosebumps erupted over her bottom and she was struck with a full feeling like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her breath caught in her lungs as she felt him slice into her slowly, the pinch disappearing and being replaced with something… something edible, bitable? almost. She couldn’t pinpoint the way to describe how it felt as if she should be biting into something toothsome and mouthwatering. Yummy and textural. But heavily laden with sex and wet and heat.

Harry blew out through his mouth as he slowly entered her. The wand was making everything even feel intense on his cock, “Ooh, you like that don’t you, baby girl? I knew you would. Feels so fucking good.”

Y/n was stuck with her mouth wide open and eyes clamped shut. The saturation of tactile sensation was like a craving being placated. A craving she didn’t know she had until she felt it. She couldn’t move or respond or think. She could only feel. Accept. Surrender.

Harry’s thrusts became tighter as he got into a rhythm, slow and methodical. Not wanting to push her too far, nor himself for that matter. If he could make it last just a few moments longer he would take his time so he could luxuriate in the way she felt on him and the way she looked wrapped tightly around him.

Finally, a gasp from her lips and a moan as her hands balled into fists behind her back. Harry had his fingers digging into the soft flesh on her hips, slowly thudding into her and feeling his heart thunder behind his ribcage.

Her hole began to squeeze around him and her thighs tightened and stiffened as she mouthed unintelligible words and noises into the soft blanket below her face.

Harry blinked his eyes and cooed at her when he realized she was coming. Coming from anal sex. From the wand just barely close enough to stimulate her clit and his cock inside of her.

“Holy fuck… come baby.” Harry wouldn’t come inside of her. Not yet. The sensation might be too much for her on her first time but now he struggled to hold himself back. He didn’t allow himself to look away this time, fully immersing himself in the experience of her coming from his cock reaching as deep as it could possibly go inside of her. Her breathy moans and mumbles of gratification filled the room as the bed gently rocked under his shallow thrusts.

The moment she wobbled and softened as her orgasm began to subside he pulled out as gently as humanly possible before he could come, pumping himself in long strokes, his palm now wetted with his lover’s slick as he pulled his shaft and doused her bottom and low back with his sperm.

Y/n heard him groaning in breathy ecstasy as he poured onto her bum, wet ropes of his come cooled her hot skin when the air hit the wet streaks on her backside as one of his hands clamped onto her hip. She was so close to just collapsing, but Harry’s firm grip kept her hips up.

Harry milked himself as he watched the breathtaking sight of his sweet girl’s puckering hole and drippy pussy coated in his come as it dripped down over her in a sinful font.

She breathed slowly as she let him finish and then felt his fingers unwrapping the tape from her wrists. When her arms were free she put her palms into the mattress and Harry pulled her down to her side and removed the tape from her ankles and then from her thigh, turning the wand off once and for all. He was still breathing deeply from the exertion of his orgasm. She watched the black tape as he flung it toward the end of the bed and then laid himself behind her body, pressing his chest into her back in silence.

It was nice to be quiet for a moment. The noise of sex and labored breaths, panting, and moans, and metal springs in the bed were now only a lustful memory. But the wetness between her legs and on her back was still very much present. Though she had no mind to get up to clean herself in that moment. To bask in the silence and the soft breaths in Harry’s arms was a treasure.

Harry’s thoughts were all over the place. He’d just had raw sex with her. And anal. And she liked it. And she left her date for him. And she used to be married but her husband was dead. And he was falling for her hard. It was a lot but he welcomed it all.

He ran his fingers through her hair and the nap of her neck was sweaty like his was. She sighed as he felt his heart pounding still. Not from exertion this time but from just being next to her. Having her in his arms. Being with her.

“How do you feel?”

Y/n pried her eyes open and turned to see him from her peripheral, “So relaxed. Really good. But, in truth… it does kind of hurt a little right now. Stings a bit.”

Harry kissed her cheek and smoothed his hand down her hip and was quickly reminded of how messy they were. His come was still on her skin and he’d just smeared it down to her thigh, “Do you have Epsom salt? We can take a warm bath and let you relax a bit. It’ll help.”

Y/n decided that warm baths after sex were her new favorite thing. Well, that could have been because it was with Harry who was attentive and soft and loving. The warm water with Epsom salts did actually soothe her muscles and relaxed her body.

Harry had his head leaned against the wall with his eyes closed and Y/n pressed into his chest, snug between his thighs with the back of her head leaned on his shoulder when Harry finally spoke again, “Be my girlfriend.”

She fluttered her eyes open and pinched her brows together, “Are you asking or are you telling?”

Harry chuckled and pushed his face into her neck, puffs of his breath falling into bursts on her sensitive skin as his chest vibrated against her back, “Asking. Of course. Choice is yours.”

The small peck to the nape of her neck sent goosebumps cascading down her back and sent her heart to wallop around in her chest.

“Are you serious? Why?!”

“Well, geez! You make it seem like you’d never consider it. What’s wrong with being my girlfriend?” Harry jested.

“I just… I’m already trying to wrap my head around the fact that you even want to sleep with me. But… girlfriend?”

“Why would it be hard to believe I want to sleep with you?”

Sighing she sat upward and turned to face the naked tattooed man that sat in her tub, “I’m… well I’m not that attractive. Not on your level of attractive-“

“You’re still on that? Thought I made it clear how gorgeous you are. If anyone should be feeling that way it’s me. I’m lucky you even gave me the time of day.”

The small, surprised smile on her face slowly grew wider. She knew he liked her. She really did. But it still felt so foreign. So unlikely.

Harry’s grin softened as he dragged his gaze down to her tits. He couldn’t help himself. Her body had him boiling hot and the way she was sitting had her breasts peeking out from the water just so. When she pushed at his shoulder with a laugh to bring his attention back up to her face he pulled at her arm and brought her back into his chest, “Be my girlfriend. Please.”

. . .

Waking up together was even better than the first time they did it. Because now they were a couple and she was feeling things for Harry she hadn’t felt for anyone in a long time. She was also feeling a bit sore. Again. After she nodded and laughed out an ‘Okay, fine!’ when Harry asked her for the second time (or more so told her) to be his girlfriend they had sex again. But it was much softer. There was no bondage tape or vibrating wand, spanking, or pinching.

Harry laid her down on her bed and fucked into her slowly, their damp bodies slipping together, not having had the foresight to dry off before lying on her comforter. But it didn’t matter. Harry’s languid strokes filled her so perfectly and the bed shifted softly under them in rhythm with his thrusts while he brought them both to orgasm as Harry released inside of her for the first time. They stared at one another as they came. Harry had both of her hands in his, fingers slotted together and arms raised above her head, “My girlfriend. Gonna be so good to you, baby.”

Y/n sighed and gasped at the new sensation. His loving movements and the way he was looking at her, kissing her softly, with his cock deep inside, praises, and promises were all making her lose composure. She could fall in love. She definitely could.

And Harry? Well, that was his goal. He wanted her love and he wanted all of her. She was his and he was already hers. His heart was hers.

Just remembering how sensual and gentle Harry was made her heart burst. She turned her head to see Harry fast asleep still. Dark curls strewn about in a wild mess on his head. She lightly pushed his hair off of his forehead to get a better look at the sleeping beauty. Pink lips smushed into the pillow, dark lashes pressed to his skin… a true beauty.

Before even opening his eyes he spoke, “Morning.”

Y/n grinned and ran her fingers further into his hair now that she knew he was awake. She wanted some more of him. Loved what they’d done the night before. Maybe anal sex could be for another day, she would need a little break back there, but the tape on her wrists and the way she had very little control felt exhilarating. It was like deep sea diving for the first time ever and finding your true passion was marine life and the sea.

She trailed her hand down to his clavicle and traced the inked sparrows, “Did this hurt?”

Harry opened his eyes, tired and puffy as he looked at his lover who was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, so to speak, “Yeah. They all hurt a bit. But it’s part of the process. Started getting tattoos when I was pretty young.”

Y/n nodded and smoothed her hand down over the butterfly and then grazed his nipples with her fingers, “You look so good with all of them. Would you get more?”

He smiled and stretched his arms overhead and then took her hand in his bringing it up to his lips, “Yes. Always thinking about what’s next. You don’t have any yourself I noticed.”

Shaking her head she spoke, “Never thought to get anything. Figured it would hurt too much.”

The sudden cheeky smirk that appeared on his face was a dead giveaway that he was about to say something that matched his expression, “Not any more than a penis in your little bum hole.”

“Oh my god, Harry!” She snorted as he laughed out through his nose, dimples making him look more innocent than he was.

“How do you feel?”

That was a question he seemed to be asking her a lot. And her answer was always the same, “I feel great.”

Keeping her eyes on his she pulled her hand from his and continued to move her hand downward so she could touch his abdomen, fit and tight with a light scattering of hair down to his happy trail. He was naked and the lower she got, the hairier he was under her fingers.

Harry licked his lips and allowed her to continue her path downward with her hand and then parted his lips, letting out a small puff of breath when her palm met his thickening prick.

“Can we go again? And then I’ll make breakfast?” She raised her brows at him as she slide her hand over him, feeling him plump up quickly under her palm.

Harry snorted a small laugh from his nostrils, “Would never say no to that.”

She was swiftly being pushed down to her back and having her thighs pushed apart as Harry positioned himself between her legs, his face kissing down her thick thighs he looked up at her, his lips moving over her skin as he spoke, “Wish I could bite into you. So perfectly plumpy and juicy,” he ran his tongue downward close to her hip before moving over to her other side, “Soft like a pillow,” he moaned as he lowered his face over her cunt.

When he spit down over her clit she groaned as she watched him begin to lick into her. It was sloppy and wet. Not only because she was already wet, but because Harry was drooling and spitting as he went. Lapping her up and spreading her out with his tongue and his fingers.

“Prettiest little pussy. Giving Daddy something to snack on so early. Such a good girl.”

Y/n rolled her eyes to the back of her head and moaned as she let herself fall back into the pillow and enjoy him. One hand worked his fingers into her while his other held her thigh and squeezed her soft skin, adding more bruises to the canvas of her flesh.

Before she could come, right before, Harry lifted his face up and removed his fingers, slowly sliding his hands up her tummy and to her breasts. Gently rolling her nipples between his fingers she gasped, “You’re so fuckable, Y/n. Your tits are begging for something to pinch at them. Can I pretty girl?”

She didn’t know what he meant exactly. She assumed he was going to pinch down harder over her but when she nodded he got up from the bed and pulled out a small stainless steel chain with tiny rubber-tipped clamps at each end her eyes widened.

She pushed herself up to sit as he sat back down next to her, “These can be adjusted so it only pinches as hard as you like. Want to try this out. Is that okay?”

She inspected the chain and clamps and felt her heart race. The man was quite kinky and who would’ve known? If he brought bondage tape and clamps in his bag she wondered what sort of things he had at home. She knew he was into a bit of BDSM, that he was dominant and enjoyed playing with her that way, but it was still somewhat of a shock because his stage persona was sweet and fun and flirty.

She looked up at him and slowly nodded, “Okay. But maybe just like gentle. At first. I’m still really sensitive.”

Harry grinned and put the clamps in her hands before bringing his large palms over her breasts and slowly massaged, “I know you’re sensitive. Which is why I think this is going to feel really good once you get past the initial bit of pain. Go on, try them on. That little knob can make it as tight or loose as you like.”

He watched as she put them on herself. He would have loved to have done the honors but he wanted her to take her time and get the right tension. When the clamps were tight enough to hold on to her nipples and the small chain was hanging down between her breasts Harry delicately pulled at the chain and brought her forward so he could kiss her.

The feel of the clamps tugging on her nipples sent a shock of ice down her body. Was she crazy to be letting this happen at… she turned her head to see the time on the clock- 8:39 am? Yes. Perhaps she was crazy.

“Don’t look at the time. We’re not punching a clock today, are we? We’re just gonna have a bit of fun and then have some breakfast.”

Y/n laughed but it was quickly cut off by his small yank, her nipples perking under the pull of the clamp.

Harry moved off the bed, his hard cock bobbing as he shifted and pulled Y/n so her bottom was at the edge of the mattress. He pulled her legs up over his thighs and painted his cock through her labia, wet and ready. The sound of him pushing her arousal around was drowned out by her moans when he pulled at the center of the chain at the same time as he entered her.

Harry’s feet were on the floor, one hand at her hip and the other on the chain as he rocked into her. He gently pulled the chain each time he pushed deep into her, her breasts being tugged upward.

“Oh my god!” She panted her words as he began to fuck into her with more muscle, his strong thighs steadying and working himself into her harder.

“Like that? So pretty like this, baby,” Harry cooed at his girlfriend as he manipulated her tits. He didn’t want to yank too hard but he loved how she clenched around each time he pulled at the chain.

“Ffuck!” Y/n did like it. She was surprised. Harry was so good at what he did, only tugging the chain and making her nipples pinch when he dipped into her achingly deep. He knew what he was doing. Trying to help her equate the pain from her nipples being wrenched up by the clamps with the pleasure of his cock gliding through her walls. Pain with pleasure. It worked. She was so wet and so desperate to come in record time that even Harry was surprised. He figured she’d enjoy it but she was fast to respond.

“Ooh! Oh, ffff! M’gonna come, Harry!!”

Harry groaned a laugh, though nothing they were doing was funny. He was only caught off guard by how fast she was being tipped over the edge.

Pulling his cock out quickly she gasped and whined, “What?! Harry?”

“How do you address me?” He raised his brows and swatted her thigh with a pop.

“Fuck!” She groaned. It was going to take some getting used to, calling him Daddy, “Sorry. I keep forgetting,” she panted, “Daddy.”

Harry lifted the chain upward slowly, pulling her tits upward as he cocked his to the side and watched her face twist up, “I think you should tighten this a little. Let’s take the training wheels off shall we?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, already feeling the discomfort of the clamps as he tugged her nipples. But just underneath that discomfort was electrostatic energy bursting in her veins that gave her a rush of arousal. In other words, she was very turned on by it and Harry could see that.

“I’m not sure I can. It’s already so tight,” she spoke in breaths.

“Well then just say you can’t and we won’t,” he countered.

She kept her eyes on his, understanding that she could say no and he’d stop. But did she want to say no? Did she think that maybe having the clamps a little tighter might feel a little more painful and be too much? Or possibly even spark something that turned her on even more?

Harry waited a bit for her to answer, knowing she was trying to determine what she wanted. This was all new to her after all.

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

Harry let go of the chain and reverently kneaded her fleshy breasts as his thumbs swiped just under her clamped nipples.

“Okay. Yes. Please. You do it. Just a little, though. I’m nervous.”

Harry grinned as he brought his gaze over her beautiful tits and started with the left side, twisting the knob to tighten the clamp little by little. He watched her face when she let out a huff of a gasp, “Okay?”

She nodded her head and looked at him, “Yeah. You can do a little more.”

Y/n was surprised that she could have the clamps any tighter than they had been, but the pinch was welcome.

Mostly.

“Okay! That’s enough!”

Harry chuckled as he released the knob and stopped twisting, “Want more on this side?”

Y/n was panting as she nodded, “Yes, just slowly- oh god…”

He began twisting the clamp to tighten slowly, her nipples being compressed under the rubber tips.

“Yes. Okay, that’s good.”

“Good girl. Now. What can I do to help you to remember the proper way to address me? Hmm?”

She was still lying flat on the mattress as Harry stood with his feet planted on the floor, his hard cock just above her, where he was inside of her only moments earlier. She swallowed and pushed herself up a bit, “Is this not enough?” She gestured over the clamps.

Harry grinned and shook his head, “I mean, I think you like it. That’s not really punishment at all is it?”

Her mouth dropped open and she looked to the corner of the room before turning her gaze back up to the naked man above her, “I don’t know.” Her voice was small suddenly.

“Well, then I’ve got an idea,” Harry spoke casually as he backed away from the bed, “You are so good at giving head and I really need to come so I’m gonna fuck your mouth while I pull at that chain. You had enough orgasms last night I think. Perhaps today you don’t get to come at all. You’re just gonna be Daddy’s little fuck toy today instead. How’s that sound?”

Sitting up fully, pressing her palms into the mattress she scrunched her brows together. No orgasm? She guessed this was part of the way he played. The way he liked to do things sometimes. And if she was going to do this with him then she figured she’d go along with it. Even though she really really wanted to come.

“Like orgasm denial?”

Harry gave her a mocking smile, “Yes. Like orgasm denial. So you learn your lesson and remember to call me Daddy.”

She nodded and stayed put in her spot, “Okay. Whatever you want, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Lie back on the bed but have your head right here at the edge so I can put your mouth to good use.” And so he could pull at the chain connected to the clamps secured to her nipples and give her a bit of pleasure. A bit of pain.

She did as she was told, scooting her body around until her head was at the edge of the bed and she could see Harry standing over her upside down.

Harry gently stroked over her neck, “I’m fuck this pretty throat until I come,” he pulled at the chain, “and tug at this while I do so.”

She groaned at the feel of her heavy breasts being lifted up by her nipples.

“If you need me to stop just pinch my thigh or something. But I expect you to be a good girl and to take your punishment nicely. Then later on if I’m feeling generous maybe I’ll let you come.”

He instructed her to open her mouth up and stick her tongue out. Harry dipped himself in past her plump lips and pulled out before thrusting in again slightly deeper, only to pull out as he watched strings of spit from her mouth stick to his cock. Holding himself at the base he tapped her lips with the crown of his prick and she tasted herself all over him. His entire shaft tasted of her, his balls and the pubic hair, coated in her arousal still.

Finally, he plunged in and pushed himself down her throat and watched it bulge with his long dick. At first, he started off slowly. Letting her get used to the sensation, pulling out a little to let her catch her breath and delicately pulling at the chain, causing her to moan around his cock in a delicious torment.

She had never had her throat fucked before. And it wasn’t what she’d call pleasant. Nor was getting her tits tugged at by the metal implement clamped to them. But his groans and choked words made her heart pound. He was enjoying the way she felt. He was using her body to get off and somehow, in some sick and twisted part of her brain, that was hot. It was so enticing to be a thing for Harry Styles to get off on. To use and to fuck and to come inside of.

The harder he went in and the more she gagged around him the more she enjoyed the feeling of the discomfort his cock caused her. The drool that dripped down her face into her ears cooled her skin and her tongue was beginning to ache from the rigid position she was holding it.

But it was the way he was tugging her nipples that sent that familiar electrostatic burst through her veins and it felt… like she could burst. She tried squeezing her thighs together and rolled her hips upward as she clamped her eyes closed and moaned around his cock. She was given a moment to take in a breath before he thrust back into her throat and he moaned, “Fucking, gorgeous, baby. Hottest woman I’ve ever seen.”

The praise had her head spinning and the arousal that was slowly building continued to flow through her core. She was unable to control the way her body responded to her nipples being painfully wrangled under the clamps.

Harry could see her clenching her thighs and swaying her hips as she moaned and gurgled. God, he’d found the perfect woman. She didn’t even know she liked any of this before him. It’s a good thing they met, he thought to himself with a smirk.

“Holy… fuck, fuck…” Harry coughed his words as his hips stuttered. He tugged the chain and watched as he manipulated her beautiful tits to his liking as his balls began to tighten. He knew he’d come fast like this. He’d already been on the verge earlier when he fucked her pussy.

He pulled himself out as he kept the chain in his hand with her breasts lifted upward. He needed a moment. He wanted to come but wanted to make it dramatic.

Releasing the chain he bent down to put his lips over hers and cooed, “So good. My little come vessel? You ready for Daddy’s load? Gonna take it like a good girl?”

Y/n groaned and raised her hips, needing something, anything. God, she was on edge but she knew her punishment was that she couldn’t come. Not yet anyway. She’d be sure to be very good and very sweet so maybe he’d let her come later. She realized she liked this a lot.

“Yes, Daddy. I’m ready.” Her words came out in a rasp.

“Open up that mouth wide,” he spoke, his face still hovering over hers as he tapped her cheeks.

She reopened her mouth and stuck her tongue out then suddenly felt his saliva slide down her tongue and into her throat, catching her off guard the slightest bit. But just as quickly as she realized that he’d spit into her mouth he was repositioning himself over her and stuffing his cock down her throat.

Harry’s gasps and moans were like music to her ears. She loved his singing voice, and the way he sounded when he was fucking her was quite the same she determined. He had a pretty voice whether he was talking, singing, or fucking.

This time, his thrusts were rough as he yanked at her nipples. Her eyes went wide at the sudden sharp pain but then the spark drove down her ribcage into her tummy and shocked her cunt with a dose of arousal she had not expected. She’d heard of women being able to come from nipple play alone and now she got it. She understood it now as her throat was being railed and air was being blocked from getting into her lungs. She moaned and rolled her hips as Harry pressed in balls deep and gritted his teeth.

She tasted the first bit of his come as he gasped and then pulled out. She gulped air into her lungs and then felt his come pour out onto her lips, her chin, and eyes, then over her neck and down to her tits that were being tugged at harshly. It hurt and it felt like heaven.

Her mouth was wide open as she sucked in oxygen and arched her back toward the pull of the clamps as Harry drained himself on her, his own loud moans overtaking any noise she might be making.

Suddenly he pressed his cock back into her throat and released the last bit of his come down her esophagus and into her belly before pulling back out and stroking his cock over her face, milking the last bit of his release over her cheeks and nose.

Her chest was heaving just as hard as his. She groaned when he let go of the chain. She thought for a moment, the smallest moment, that she would come if he continued pulling at her nipples the way he was. Her buds were sore and pulsing but the radiating pain was coupled with that pleasure that she always got when she was turned on and slippery wet.

Harry stood back and looked over Y/n’s body, “See? I’m an artist too? I can sing and I can paint,” he laughed lowly as he helped her sit up and smirked, “My canvass is beautiful, though, so it was easy to make pretty.”

She laughed and shook her head, “Wow. A real comedian.”

“I am known to crack a few good ones. My fans love my jokes.”

She gestured toward her face, “Uh, can I… ?”

Harry helped her into the bathroom to clean up. She was quite the mess. While he handed her a damp towel to wipe off he loosened the clamps slowly and pulled each one off.

She hissed once the implement was removed from her final nipple and Harry groped at her tits and licked over each nipple, giving a proper kiss over them before standing upright and clapping his hands together, “Time for breakfast!”

. . .

Most of the weekend was spent at her house. Harry fucked her, tied her up, clamped her nipples again (which she requested), and spanked her as she came around his cock while he had her lying flat on her tummy.

It was… fun. She had fun with him.

On Sunday afternoon they went out to the little pizzeria in town and sat in the dining room to eat the Neapolitan-style pizza they ordered.

“So, I guess now that you’re my girlfriend I should warn you, and I’m sure you know this, about what to kind of expect.”

This had her attention. She knew they needed to discuss some of the details.

“You and I will be photographed together occasionally. Sometimes it’ll be fans that catch us, sometimes the paparazzi will know where I’m at. They already know my schedule, my usual hotels, the gym I go to, things like that. And they’ll probably start to learn yours as well. You may see them yards away and not even realize it at first.”

Y/n sipped her coffee as Harry explained what she might experience with the paparazzi and his fans.

“But it will be more invasive than just that. People will find out everything they can about you. They’ll make up lies about you and me. Some straight-up wild conspiracies. They’ll be mean. Some might even reach out to you directly and threaten you.”

“Has that happened before? An ex was threatened?” She raised her brows in surprise.

Harry nodded, “Yes. Some years ago an ex was at my concert and she was cornered and we had to get security involved. So, after that, I learned that anyone I date has to have security nearby if they’re at my concert. Also, direct messages on Instagram or Twitter too. But that’s not as scary. You can limit who comments on your posts or just make your accounts private.”

Harry reached across the table and took her hand in his, “But I need you to keep trusting me. To ignore what you read and probably just don’t read it at all. It’s best to not even open up the comments section when you see photos of yourself or us anywhere.”

Just then, as if by some kind of karmic summoning, a light flashed and the sound of a cellphone's camera rang out, two, then three times. Harry put his hand up, “That’s enough. Would be polite if you asked first next time.”

The two young girls, who were actually closer to your age than anything, squeaked out a sorry! before scurrying off.

Harry pointed toward where the girls were headed, “That’s a good example right there. Taking our photos and videos without our permission while we’re at dinner. They might not share it with anyone but chances are at some point those photos will be seen. I just want you to be prepared.”

Y/n nodded and realized that now, people were looking. They hadn’t noticed before but suddenly they were aware that Harry Styles was sitting only feet away in a small pizzeria in suburbia Illinois with a woman. The girls with their forced impromptu photo op had alerted the other patrons of his presence. She sighed.

“So, can you do that? Keep trusting me?”

She nodded again, “Yeah. I think so. I guess we’ll see how it goes but I like you a lot. I want to see where this goes.”

Harry squeezed her hand, “Good. I hope you feel I’m worth it. It’s going to get a bit bumpy but if you can ignore that sort of nonsense and noise then we’re gonna be great.”

The pizza was delicious. Y/n knew it would be. She’d eaten at the pizzeria many times and she knew she had to bring Harry before he left. They’d been doing nothing but eating delivery, having sex, taking baths, and sleeping the whole time. It was necessary to get out of her house and comb her hair once and for all and it felt good. But she did feel the grating presence of eyes on them as they ate and even when they left the restaurant together.

Back at her house, she pouted as Harry started to pack some of his things away. She wasn’t ready for their little weekend to end.

“Hey, no pouting,” Harry said as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead, “I’ve got an idea.”

Tilting her head back to look up at him she raised a brow in question.

“Come back with me. To LA. We can ship all your stuff to my house and then you can come with me to Europe. I don’t want to be away from you.”

Blinking her eyes and shaking her brain of the puzzlement she continuously seemed to feel with him she smiled with her eyes wide, “Really? You want me to come with you?”

Harry shrugged with a dimpled grin, “Course I do. I need you to. Will you?”

“I mean… I can’t fly out with you tomorrow. I’ve got to get a few things to get in order but it’ll take only a few days. When do you leave for Europe?”

“Week and a half.”

“Um… Well, how about I fly out to LA a few days before you leave and… if you really want then I can come with you- but are you sure? Is that not too much?”

“I can do what I want, Y/n. This is my gig. I want you there. I need you there.”

Swallowing down her doubts and looking at his mouth and then to his eyes she felt nothing but excitement in her bones as she nodded, “Okay. I’ll go with you to Europe.”

Chapter 4

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darsynia · 1 year

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Nat and Steve romance pls!

I enjoyed this, thanks for the request! Requests are still open!

Summary: Steve Rogers' mom had loved stories about romance, especially between two people who saw each other as equals. Pre-serum, fulfilling his mother's wish had seemed a hopeless ideal, and post-serum, equally so. Until he met Natasha.

Length/Warnings: 820 words, no warnings

Equals

Steve’s mom had loved romance novels. Her favorites had always been the ones where a secretary falls for her boss, or a nurse for her patient, but he could remember her complaining: ‘Where are the stories where they’re equals, Stevie? I want to read about them being equals!’

He’d never forgotten, had held that hope in the back of his head like a talisman, but Steve had never expected his romantic life to bring her wish to fruition. He was weak, puny, overlooked. Women wanted someone who could provide for them, who could stand up for them-- and then suddenly, he’d overshot the mark. ‘This Hero Has No Equal!’ one article had crowed.

No equal.

Steve came out of the ice, but it took him awhile to thaw. Once he did, he handled the task of adjusting to modern life, of warming up fairly well, in every way but one. He was… distracted by Natasha Romanoff.

Yes, by her beauty at first, but once he got used to how luminous she always seemed to be, Steve never ‘got used to’ her competency. It always floored him, how Nat was strong in ways he’d never be able to master, lithe when it counted, clever always. Her quick wit and sharp strategic mind left him alternatively in stitches and in awe, and falling for her was so easy he was almost embarrassed it took him so long to realize that’s what he’d done.

He didn’t intend to tell her, of course. That would be an overstep, and if Steve couldn’t be her partner, at least he could be her protector, someone she could count on to see her as-- oh.

An equal.

A couple weeks after that realization, Steve found himself being shoved up against the wall during a sparring session with Natasha. She’d taken him off guard, which was fair. He was still coming to grips with… everything.

“Out with it,” she said, her smaller frame no less threatening or deadly as she held a static weapon bristling with energy at his throat.

“Lunch didn’t agree with me?”

Natasha pushed the weapon closer. If he so much as swallowed hard, it would sting him. “What else?”

He felt completely out of his depth. “Your, ah, uniform shirt is unzipped more than normal,” he admitted. It was the truth, and he’d caught himself staring more than once so far.

Natasha’s smile was feral. “True. And?”

He moved swiftly and without warning, darting sideways and catching her waist with one hand to spin her off-balance. As usual, Nat rolled with the movement and turned it to her advantage, shooting out a kick that stole away his breath for a few seconds. He was fast enough to trap her kicking leg in both hands, yanking her forward into his body.

She should have tried to escape.

She should have pressed her advantage.

Natasha did neither. Instead, she leaped at him, and instinct led Steve to catch her weight at her ass and her back, one leg falling behind to brace the two of them so he didn’t tip over.

“And?” she repeated, one leg on either side of him, a steady hand brushing back his sweaty hair from his forehead.

There was no way his feelings weren’t written all over his face, Steve realized as he looked at her unblinking, green-eyed expression. She’d tricked him into showing her, meaning that she’d figured him out.

The best he could do was hope she felt honored, instead of offended. He’d wanted to be different than other men, for her. He’d wanted to be her equal.

“How long have you known?” Steve asked, entranced, impressed, imprisoned.

“Kiss me and find out,” she suggested archly-- and oh. Oh.

Natasha Romanoff kissed like time was running out, like no one was watching, like she couldn’t get enough. Steve sank to his knees in self-defense, needing to touch her, to ground the two of them with his hands cradling her face, tangled in her hair. His heart hadn’t pounded like this when he’d jumped from an airplane, and when their lips parted enough to catch a breath, he told her exactly that.

“Mine either,” she said, taking his hand from her cheek and pressing it against her too-low zipper, so he could feel for himself.

“So, you’re saying--” he started to say, needing reassurance, but Natasha stopped him with a quick kiss, then drew back.

“I’ve wanted to jump from the airplane before,” she said, a shadow crossing her face for a split second before she refocused on his face, and smiled. “With you, I’m not worried about how we land.”

He pulled her close, unable not to, and as he kissed her hair, her forehead, and her tear-wet cheek on his way to her lips, Steve realized that she could either mean they’d never land, or that she wasn’t worried about the fall.

He was equally happy with either.

#steve rogers x natasha romanoff #romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #steve x natasha #steve rogers fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers romance #natasha romanoff romance #blurb week

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missspringthyme · 3 months

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February 25th, 2024

Today was a pretty productive day. I finished my first rough draft of the article i want to publish and sent it to my supervisor (ahhhhhh). It still needs some work, but having something to send her feels incredible. I also tried to do the eeg processing but ran into some errors, so I sent an email to my thesis supervisor asking for help. That means even if I don't have the work done in time for Tuesday, he knows why and that I wasn't doing it last minute. I also also drafted an email reply with the help of German American to send to the guy organizing the conference in Italy. Basically "I know I'm not as experienced as you would like me to be but pretty pretty please let me do this".

After that, I didn't really have a ton to do, so I looked up how to cast my laptop screen to the TV to show the battlemaps for tonight. Then, I helped german American with her dying house plant. It sits in the living room window sill and in general doesn't look happy. This may be because German American forgets to water it and didn't look up how to care for it. So, we spent a little bit trimming the dead leaves, bottom watering the plant, and then misting the leaves. It already looks a lot better.

For the rest of the day I mostly played bloons or looked at open job postings.nits too early for me to be applying now, but I doom scroll sometimes when I'm freaking out about my future. I know that research isn't a glamorous job, but $40,000???? In NYC????? How do they expect you to eat? I have no idea when I should start applying, but I hope it'll work out. I really need to spend some time actually recovering from 5 non stop years of higher education before doing a few more. It'll be hard to do that if I'm homeless.

Dnd was supposed to start at 6:30 but no one was ready on time as usual. I understand that I'm late to everything, but it pisses me off that we always start an hour late when I live with most of them and they complain about us doing the games late at night. The hope was that we could start in the afternoon since it was our first time being able to play on a Sunday, but French girl wasn't able to. Ironically, she ended up being unable to join at all because she got stuck on a train and couldn't join the call. I played her character like an npc, but the session was not one of our best. Very unfocused, and a bit of a slog. They also fully chose to ignore a cool lore thing that I was going to reveal about German Americans backstory. Additionally, Spanish girl was in our living room when the game started so I offered for her to play authentic Australians inner demon like I did with German Americans boyfriend. I brought her into my room to tell her and only then realized that my vibrator was just laying on my bed. Fuck. I don't know if she noticed though because my blinds are coming out of my ceiling. Anyway, she ended up not playing which may be for the best because she didn't seem to like the idea of improv.

Also I forgot to eat dinner, but I did have some matcha KitKats and settle all of my debts with everyone in the house except German American.

Also, German American told me to draw he with glasses but I prefer the faceless version. You can decide for yourself.

#roommates #febuary #friend #thesis #dnd #research

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psychostudnia · 6 months

Text

“Mark Laita & The Soft White Scandals | BJ Investigates” Video Critique

youtube

One day, when I was browsing Youtube, a little thumbnail catches my attention. Video about Soft White Underbelly – that’s a name I haven’t seen in a while. Title “Mark Laita & The Soft White Scandals | BJ Investigates” suggested that mentioned in the title scandals will be analyzed in detail.

Well, I was taken for a wild ride, not gonna lie. If you are interested, let me tell you more.

We are going to look deeper into fine art photography business to add missing context fom BJ video. I will show a little different point of view to some of Laita’s action.

This is not a hit piece. BJ team found good info. It was presented in a clear fashion. Their opinion about Mark Laita is their own and I’m not here to dispute it, even if I may not fully agree with it.

The final opinion is left to you, dear reader.

Part I Optics Read after watching the video. Thank you!

From the beginning, and this is not a secret, BJ doesn’t like Marks’ content. She mentions it multiple times (f.eg. 37:12). I’m assuming that Marks’ actions appear too calculated and cold. His photos are considered as too objectifying.

Additionally, she seems influenced by WP article that she uses as a source (https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2020/02/27/kelly-mark-laita-videos/).

Knowing a few professional photographers, I think that a true artist usually presents three traits: adrenaline addiction, charisma and resourcefulness with a pinch of a sociopathy. Thanks to that we can get a magnetizing glimpse of reality alien to broad society.

Part II Fine Art Photography

Making photos can be lucrative. The prices for a professional wedding session or an advertising gig go really high.

In the same time, fine art photography is more of a lottery. Until you capture photo that will catch an eye of art collector or gallery, it can take months, if not years, and a lot of money. You need to cover the cost of travel, studio, models, equipment, software, printing and business license.

“First off, there are no hard and fast rules when it comes to pricing your work. Except, save one – you need to cover your costs. Sounds simple but there are not just the costs of paper, ink, matting, framing, chemistry (that is if you’re a darkroom person), and photo paper. If this is a business for you and not just a hobby then there are a few other costs you have to consider.

Even if you’re not renting studio space, you have the monthly costs of operating out of your home or apartment. You do have to travel to locations to create your work, pick up supplies, and bring your work to the courier or post office for shipping, so there are those expenses like gas, repairs, and oil changes. I’m sure you have insurance on your equipment as well as your home and car and you’ll need to cover those. Don’t forget all those software upgrades so you can keep doing what you do. Those are just a few of the costs you need to think about.”

“Main source of income –

But before you price your prints, you cannot forget the ‘hidden’ costs of running your business. And, more importantly, you want to have a good hard think about the sort of profit you can expect to make. Keeping in mind how much to charge for prints can be challenging, but it’s essential.”

(https://shotkit.com/pricing-photography-prints/)

To professionally price your work, you will probably take into consideration what sells and sell only the best photos. A lot of artists decide to limit amount of album printed copies. Print on demand is also popular option.

Why printing is such a challenge?

Photographers usually print albums in limited amounts to cut the costs. They need to include labour, data transfer, paper quality variance, print quality options, laminating, shipping and book composition.

The costs add up pretty quickly.

“For a simple answer, a good rule of thumb is to charge customers approximately four times what your total costs equated to”.

(https://shotkit.com/pricing-photography-prints/)

Searching etsy for examples – one of the first results is a 40 pages portfolio of a semi known artist for $88.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1516881798/from-exodus-to-genesis-fine-art?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=fine+art+album&ref=sr_gallery-1-89&organic_search_click=1

We can’t forget about the possibility of being sued or fined – if the artwork is sold directly to customers, photographer will need business license. Basing on the IRS site:

“An LLC delivers the most flexibility to your art business and puts some much-needed distance between you and your company, protecting you from personal liability in lawsuits.

If you start an LLC, you’ll still technically be self-employed, owe Social Security and Medicare contributions, and pay income tax.

But your personal assets are also protected if the company faces money woes down the line.”

https://www.irs.gov/businesses/small-businesses-self-employed/limited-liability-company-llc

https://selfgood.com/blog/small-business-license/artist

Part III

Regarding Mark Laita

In this part I will share my view on facts presented by BJ. I strongly recommend you to watch her video, if you still haven’t, as some of my points might appear a little out of contexts without it.

Summary of BJ argument: The first album took a long time to prepare, is hard to buy and really expensive.

In ‘90 Mark Laita was getting money from advertising (creating mostly for Apple), but his passion project was photographing Appalachia. He had to divide his time between working in LA and traveling to the region. The result of his 8 years of travel there during his spare time was a limited print of the album “Created Equal”.

The reason why the first album is so expensive on ebay, is twofold: limited print around ‘90 and the popularity of Mark Youtube channel. Also, BJ is showing prices for albums that are on sale but aren’t sold yet. It is hard to know if anybody is going to buy them for those prices.

2. BJ argument: Second and third albums were created in short time and new copies are still available.

“The Sea” and “The Serpentine” appears to be created just after Laita stopped working for Apple and he could go after other topics full time. I’m assuming photos of fishes and crabs might be less intriguing for wider public. The publisher was also bigger and books were made in time when printing got more digital, less expensive and easier to reproduce.

3. BJ argument: Mark albums have similar topics and are advertised in a cynical way. Mark states that he was bitten by dangerous snake and survived it, despite all odds – which means he is lying on purpose to sell his work.

Second album was about sea creatures and third one about snakes. Photos have similar style – animals on black background. Could both be made in the same time? Sure, why not? Basing on Mark interviews (one linked below), albums were a result of travelling around the world. Mark probably entered the husbandry environment, got contacted with owners of intriguing species and ended with tones of beautiful pictures. He divided them in two albums. Having two similar books to sell, he needed something to boost sells of “The Serpentine”. He even got a great story to spice thing up a little.

During one of snake sessions, Mark was bitten by a black mamba, one of the most venomous creatures in the world. Instead of trying to fight for his life, he made a photo of the moment. The fact that the photo was taken then and there suggests that he is a great photographer – he will capture an amazing scene even of cost of his life. He knew that he might die, so why not make something memorable before death? He was done for either way. He survived. Then the black mamba bite and citations of Jung philosophy beside multiple gorgeous photos of snakes were used to advertised the book. – I applaud the grift.

His recently announced album “The Soft Underbelly” will be sold during Christmas – after 3 albums Mark knows when is the best time to sell anything.

4. BJ argument: An LLC for Soft Underbelly was created way ahead of youtube album announcement. It was given, that Soft Underbelly channel will get at least one photo-album – Mark put a lot of time into it. The topic interested him enough to keep going with interviews, even when the channel was demonetized. Taking into account other issues that aroused during the channel existence, having an LLC company was a must. It would help with judicial system if needed and shield him from losing any money not related to the channel. Why the LLC was created in Nevada? No idea. BJ is right pointing it out.

5. BJ argument : The most scandalous interviewee are on the album cover to advertise it. Of course, Mark would include photos stories of the most viewed YT videos on his channel. I just want to point out, that none of the most popular photos are in any way differentiated from others that are included on the cover. You need to know interviewee faces to link it to their scandals.

6. BJ argument : The GoFund me campaigns are shady. The GoFundMe campaigns might be a scam. Not enough info is known to know it for sure though. However, the campaign descriptions clearly state that some of the money goes for Mark directly to support work related with the YT channel. Additionally, in WP article it was pointed out that the donation with a clearly stated recipient, where passed along. One of the interviewed girl said that Laita scammed her, but it looked rather that she used it as a marketing stunt for her new tik-tok account. According to Laita, he shared what she was owned.

7. BJ argument: Interviews are not proof-checked. If interviewee lies, it isn’t Laita fault. He is not there to squeeze the truth out of people. He isn’t also trained journalist or psychologist. He tries to start people to talk and then gives them space. Does his questions are sometimes loaded? Yes. People met at Skid Row have it tough.

8. BJ Argument: “I’m not a helping channel” As the WP article states: “Money isn’t curative for the type of trauma someone like Kelly experienced, Powell said. She needs assistance with finding housing, securing employment and attending counseling to help her cope with pain. People like Kelly need a community that consists of professionals and former sex-trafficking survivors to pull her forward,” That is why Mark repeats ad infinitum that he is not a helping channel. He is paying interviewees for a few hours of their time. If someone doesn’t want to answer a question, he changes the subject. He offers them a moment of his full attention, a true concentration on them and their words. He is not objectifying those people more than any article in popular magazine.

9. BJ argument: Mike objectifies people he photographs. I can’t see the objectifying that BJ says Mark is guilty off. The photos show those people like Mike met them on the street or how they appeared for interview. It might be uncomfortable, seeing someone with their boobs out or under the influence of drugs. But Mark isn’t there to offer anything more than a place to vent because he just can’t. He never promised any of them more than he is offering. Moreover, photographers can make uncomfortable photos to show you naked underbelly of our society. Mark is not the only one:

Part IV Conclusion

I’ve added some additional photography background and different perspective for some of BJ points. I have nothing against her conclusion. This is not a piece to change her mind. I wrote it because her video moved me. I also have nothing against Mark Laita. I think he knows how to make an interesting photo. His interviews are usually too triggering for me. I’m not going to buy his album. But I see his action in less critical way.

Life is hard.

Reader, keep safe and don’t let anyone tell you what to think.

#Mark Laita #Mark #Laita #photography #critique #BJ investigations #The Soft White Underbelly #Youtube

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sughoshperur · 8 months

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Flyboarding in Goa: Are you a first-timer?

Hello Friends! Ready to Flyboard in Goa?

When it comes to adrenaline-pumping water sports, few activities can match the excitement and thrill of flyboarding. And if you're a first-timer looking for a memorable adventure in Goa, flyboarding is an experience you won't want to miss.

In this article, we will delve into the world of flyboarding, exploring what it is, where you can try it in Goa, flyboarding in Goa price and what to expect as a beginner.

Flyboarding Like A Superhero

Flyboarding is an exhilarating water sport that combines elements of jetpacking, water skiing, and acrobatics. It involves strapping into a specially designed board connected to a jet ski via a long hose. The jet ski propels water at high pressure through the hose, allowing you to soar above the water's surface, perform flips, and even dive below the water before shooting back up into the air. It's a unique and electrifying experience that makes you feel like a superhero.

>> Looking for more information on flyboarding? Checkout Flyboarding in goa: Where Dreams Come True!

Is there any age limit for flyboarding?

Age limits may vary depending on the operator, but generally, participants should be at least 12 years old. Some operators may have weight restrictions as well.

Where to Try Flyboarding in Goa

Goa, with its beautiful beaches and vibrant water sports scene, is an ideal destination to try flyboarding. Several operators along the Goan coastline offer flyboarding experiences. Some of the popular locations include:

Baga Beach: Baga Beach is one of the most well-known spots for fly boarding Goa. The scenic beauty of this beach, combined with the thrill of flyboarding, creates a memorable experience.

Calangute Beach: Calangute is another bustling beach in Goa where you can enjoy flyboarding. The vibrant atmosphere adds to the overall excitement of the adventure.

Preparing for Your First Flyboarding Experience

Before you dive into flyboarding, here are some essential tips for first-timers:

Dress appropriately: Wear comfortable swimwear, sunscreen, and bring a towel. Most operators provide safety equipment, including life jackets and helmets.

Listen to the Instructor: Your Instructor will provide crucial guidance on safety and techniques. Pay close attention to their instructions.

Is flyboarding safe?

Yes, flyboarding is generally safe when done under the guidance of experienced instructors and with the right safety equipment. Follow the instructor's advice to ensure a safe experience.

Don't be nervous: Flyboard in Goa might seem intimidating at first, but it's a beginner-friendly activity. Trust the equipment and your instructor.

Start slow: Your first flight will likely be a test of balance and control. As you gain confidence, you can attempt more advanced manoeuvres.

>> Looking for some amazing time on Goan waters? Then Visit Dinner Cruise in Goa.

Can I flyboard if I can't swim?

While knowing how to swim is not mandatory, it's advisable to have basic swimming skills for safety reasons. You will be wearing a life jacket, but being comfortable in the water can boost your confidence.

Flyboarding price: Flyboarding Goa price starts at Rs.2,499. It's a 15-minute ride which includes a professional guide. Need more details on packages and prices? Visit Universal Adventures.

How do I book a flyboarding session in Goa?

You can book a flyboarding session through various water sports operators and agencies in Goa. Online booking options are also available through their websites or apps. If you want to book a session check our website.

Enjoy the ride: Flyboarding Goa is not just about performing tricks; it's about enjoying the sensation of flying above the water. Take in the breathtaking views of the Goan coastline.

Is there any specific training before the session?

Yes, before your flyboarding experience, the instructor will typically provide a brief training session on land, explaining the equipment and safety procedures.

Flyboarding in Goa is an adventure like no other, and being a first-timer makes it even more special. With the right equipment, professional instructors, and the stunning backdrop of Goa's beaches, you're in for an unforgettable experience. So, gear up, take that leap of faith, and let the waves beneath your feet propel you into a world of excitement and wonder. Flyboarding in Goa is an adventure you'll cherish for a lifetime.

#flyboarding in goa price #flyboarding goa #flyboard in goa #flyboarding goa price #fly boarding goa

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physiodnaca · 2 years

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Guide to Getting the Best Physiotherapy Treatment in Oakville

Everyone has experienced back pain at one point in life, and often these injuries can lead to long-lasting health problems that change how you live your life. The best course of action is to find a physiotherapist who can help treat your pain or get you on the path to rehabilitation. This article teaches what to look for when searching for a physiotherapist in Oakville!

What is Physiotherapy?

• Physiotherapy is a treatment that helps improve the physical function of an individual. It is used to help with conditions such as muscle pain, stiffness, and dysfunction. It can also be used to improve overall health by helping to improve joint mobility and range of motion. • Physiotherapy can be performed in different settings, including hospitals, clinics, and private practices. Some common treatments include massage, exercises, and mobilization. • Physiotherapy is a very effective treatment for many conditions, and it can be tailored to meet each patient's specific needs. If you are experiencing pain or difficulty with your physical function, please talk to your doctor about the possibility of using physiotherapy as a treatment option.

When Can I Begin Physiotherapy?

Choosing the right time to commence physiotherapy is an important decision. If you are experiencing pain relief or restoration from Oakville Physiotherapy, start as soon as possible. However, if you are still experiencing pain or discomfort after some time, it may be best to consult your physician before beginning physiotherapy treatments.

There are a few factors that can influence when you should commence physiotherapy treatments:

• The severity of your symptoms: The sooner you start, the sooner you will experience relief. However, if your symptoms are severe or ongoing, you may need to see a doctor first.

• Your age: Physiotherapy can be beneficial for people of all ages, but it is especially helpful for those experiencing pain and dysfunction related to aging.

• Your medical history: Certain medical conditions may make it difficult for you to tolerate physiotherapy treatments. If you have any health concerns, please consult your physician before starting physiotherapy treatments.

If you are unsure when to commence treatment, consult with your physician or physiotherapist. They will be able to provide you with advice on the appropriate time for treatment and help ensure that your treatment is effective.

How to find the best physiotherapy treatment in Oakville or Toronto:

Looking for the best physiotherapy treatment in Oakville or Toronto? Look no further than physiodna.com! We offer some of the best physiotherapy treatments in the area, so you can feel your pain go away quickly. We know just how important it is to get relief from pain as soon as possible! See us today and let our team help you get back to your normal life as quickly as possible.

How Much Will a Physiotherapy Treatment Cost?

There is no set price for physiotherapy treatment, as the cost will vary depending on the patient's specific needs. However, on average, physiotherapy treatments can cost anywhere from $50 to $200 per session. It is important to remember that this price range is just an estimate - it can be much higher or lower depending on the specific condition being treated and the therapist's skill.

What Should I Expect During My Physiotherapy Sessions?

Physiotherapy is a treatment for people that helps improve the function of the body's muscles and bones. Physiotherapy sessions typically last around 60 minutes, and during this time, the therapist will work with you to improve your mobility, flexibility, strength, and endurance.

Here are some tips on what you can expect during your physiotherapy sessions:

• The therapist will ask you to complete various exercises and stretches. This will help to improve your overall range of motion and flexibility. • The therapist may also use soft tissue treatments such as massage or heat to help relieve pain or inflammation. • In some cases, the therapist may prescribe medication or therapy to help speed up the healing process.

How Long Does It Take to Recover from My Injury or Condition?

When you first suffer an injury or condition, you may feel like you are in a race against time. You may worry about the long-term effects of your injury and whether you can return to your normal activities.

The good news is that most injuries and conditions can be effectively treated with physiotherapy. Treatment can range from simple exercises to more complex treatments, depending on the severity of your injury. However, most injuries and conditions take between two and four weeks to recover. This means that you will likely be able to resume your normal activities within this timeframe.

Pain Management and Recovery Enhancement Techniques in Advanced Physiotherapy Techniques

A physiotherapy is a form of healthcare that uses physical treatments and exercises to help people with injuries, pain, and health problems. It can manage conditions such as back pain, neck pain, knee pain, and other musculoskeletal issues.

Many advanced physiotherapy techniques can help improve your recovery and pain management. When considering physiotherapy treatment, it is important to understand the different types of treatments available and how they can benefit your specific needs. This article will discuss some of the most common advanced physiotherapy treatments and how they can help improve your recovery.

#Best physiotherapy Oakville #massage Spadina #Oakville Physiotherapy #Massage therapy Oakville #Oakville Massage Therapy #Toronto Physiotherapy #Fascial stretch therapy #Fascial stretch therapy Toronto #Toronto Chiropractic #Toronto Massage Therapy

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very-feral-lesbian · 2 years

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the 4-1-1 on 9-1-1 season 5b

1. this photo + what is reveals

more than likely this is a scene between buck and eddie in chris‘s room. the reason for this is because he is way too serious looking to be speaking with chris. when he talks to chris he always makes an effort to be at his level. hes def like leaning against chris’s desk or dresser.

this picture is also on the same day as…

these photos from oli’s short term bts vid that was taken down. this means there is going to be a buddie + madney scene & buddie scene in the same episode. seeing buck & eddie with chris AND jee-yun is genuinely going to make me hurl.

2. eddie in texas?

so thank you in advance to @911bts for these photos but…. it looks like eddie might be in texas.

these are some photos from a BTS from cast. the bridge on the right was featured in a 911 lonestar episode a little while ago, which is canonically set in texas. if they are just reusing locations then it might be nothing, but that alongside the house on the left gives a good possibility that eddie might be going to his parents house. as it looks decently similar to what we have seen of flashbacks of eddie and chris at his parents house. it’s not exact but close enough.

my theory about this is that eddie going to therapy is probably going to bring up his parents at some point. and i think that his therapist might recommend that he go back and genuinely express how he feels with his parents. i dont know exactly what direction they are going to take eddie’s personal life into account any therapy sessions outside of the work related incidents or the shooting. but im very interested to see what they do with us.

3. eddie back at the 118

this bts photo tells us that somewhere in 5b, eddie will be back working at the 118. he’s got his gear on. since we know that the show is picking up with eddie having been transferred to the call center, there’s no reason for him to have been in his turn out gear during the season if he’s going to be staying there. but this reveals to us that he’s going to be back at the 118 pretty soon.

4. may centric episode

so this photo was released and it is from 5x16 which is titled ‘may day’

i’m really really hoping that this is a may-centric episode. between the title and this photo im pretty sure that’s what it’s gonna be. but the titles have deceived us in the past. may is one of my favorite characters by far on the show and i think that she has a lot of room to be one of the best characters on the show and in general.

but they just need to expand her a little bit more. between her backstory and her maturity i think that she is just so amazing and the actress who plays her is absolutely fantastic. im really excited to see what she can do in the future and im really hoping that this upcoming season spends a lot more time with her character. we got a glimpse of it before but i want more of her.

5. lucy

so obviously we have Lucy being introduced in 5B. she is a reckless, thrilled seeking, and adventurous character with similar characteristics to buck. i have seen a lot of people freaking out that lucy is going to be a love interest for buck. i definitely think that they are going to try and play it up as if that is happening but i am 99% sure that’s not gonna happen.

in an article that oliver did recently, he said that we are expecting to see buck being happy and excited again, similar to his demeanor in season one. not completely reckless and crazy like beforehand. but apparently we can def expect more of his bubbly outgoing personality coming back after all the dark stuff he’s been through lately.

and like a few people have said recently, lucy is expected to be kind of similar to how lena was eddie.

6. bucktaylor

well we can expect for BT in season 5B does not look good for the BT stans.

an article that came out a few months ago, oliver said that we should expect a huge wrench to be thrown in the relationship within the first episode.

and then in a recent article, oliver said “ there is a sense of settling there” when discussing buck and taylor‘s romance. now idk about you but when im talking about my partner who im excited about our future together, i don’t say that im settling.

7. madney

we do know that maddie makes her come back by at the latest ep 5x12. it has been confirmed that she is going to be addressed in 5x12 titled ‘boston’ where she has been. we don’t know exactly how this is gonna go down yet, but we do know that maddie was pictured in a bts photo of her in a hospital gown.

i’m out of pictures for this post, but you can see them here.

let me know if you guys want part part two, there’s way more information i could include but im out of pictures available for this post. i really wanna talk about eddies therapy arc and the guy who’s going to be rivaling hen this season

and to my followers who follow me for my 911 posts specifically, you can expect more of long-winded explanatory/deep dive posts about 911 for this upcoming 5B rather than my previous shorter posts. i really wanna focus on analysis and im really excited about it.

#911 fox #911 #911 bts #oliver stark #jennifer love hewitt #911 season 5b news #911 season 5 #911 season 5b #madney #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #evan buckley #maddie buckley #buddie #may grant #buddie and 911 news #han buckley family

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Came For The Low

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader, platonic!zemo x reader

Summary | in Madripoor, it looks like Zemo is having fun, despite being the prisoner that your boyfriend ‘hypothetically’ helped break out of a government facility.

Warnings | Zemo’s moves, references to sex, role-playing, daddy kink

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you're interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Sharon being a hustler was certainly not something that you expected, but you didn’t mind it, considering she was providing your team, which begrudgingly involved Zemo, temporary cover whilst in Madripoor.

You stood against the bar, arms crossed as you accepted another drink from the tender, swigging it down in one. A frown covered your face, as the bartender set another down before your eyes. “I didn’t order that.” You informed him, as he took your other glass, cleaning it quickly under a back wall faucet and turning it upside down to dry.

“The man at the other end of the bar did.” He told you, and as your eyes flickered through the blue haze that projected down from the ceiling, you saw a gentleman clothed in fine black attire, possibly the outfit was too nice to match his usual rugged and tossed together attire.

Nevertheless, you amused him by flashing him a flirtatious smile, raising the crystalline outlined glass, hitting it back. It was your favourite, you knew that, and clearly so did he. And so, placing the glass directly down upon its original condensation ring, you stalked towards the bearded man, throwing your hair over your shoulder as you approached him.

"Thanks for the drink, what brings you to Madripoor?" You bit your lip, fully expecting to wait a few seconds for an answer until he realised what you were doing, but he bit back fast, putting his cold and unusual hand on your waist, leaning in so that his breath stroked the shell of your ear.

"My girlfriend practically dragged me out here, after fucking me in the bathroom, I think it's the jacket." He toyed with the outline of the collar, watching as your eyes deviantly watched his every action concerning the article of clothing.

"I think it must be..." You agreed, awaiting for him to introduce himself, raising your eyebrows to prompt him further.

"James." He told you, his gaze locking onto the way that you licked your lips, knowing how much you loved him referring to himself with his first name. "people tend to call me Bucky though, so you can decide on what you call me tonight."

"James is a nice name." Your head tipped in a nod, your expression quickly turning itself into a smirk. "Though, I wouldn't mind calling you daddy, so long as your girlfriend doesn't come running along like a good little Saint."

A light snort heaved from James as he smoothed your hair over with his human hand, watching as you nuzzled into his amorous touch.

"Oh she's no Saint, if she saw me speaking to another woman, I'd surely get my ass whooped." Bucky told you, a small smile tugging at his lips, as he tapped your chin. "But perhaps it would be worth it for a lovely vixen like yourself."

"Tell me what you have in mind James, I'd like to hear your plans for me tonight." You raked your hands down his chest, smoothing down his shirt, and just as he was about to respond, another man came towards you, blabbering on, with another male walking idly behind him.

"We've been looking everywhere for you two." Sam sighed, ruining your potential game, and making you roll your eyes as you dropped your face upon Bucky's shoulder, groaning to yourself lightly.

"Well, you found us." Bucky bluntly stated, feeling as annoyed as you were. "Where else were we supposed to be, in that mess of a crowd?" That was something you all knew Bucky would not do, he'd part through the bodies as though they were a sea, but he would not dance so freely, especially with his hand not being covered by a glove.

"Zemo thought you two were screwing in an upstairs bathroom, I told him that is just nothing either of you would be doing considering the situation we're in." Zemo cocked a brow at the light frown on Bucky's face that affirmed what he thought, he was right, as per usual.

"Nope, no screwing going on here." You responded bitterly, far too aware at how they had ruined your potential good time. “Just you two showing up and finding us, isn’t that right honey?” Bucky hummed, biting his lip as he breathed through his nose, his fists clenching admittedly by his sides.

“You two are weird.” Sam snorted, as he turned to get agreement out of Zemo, he realised that the man had disappeared. Inside the man began to panic, ready to blame Bucky for Helmut slipping away, though, he followed your gazes as the two of you stared towards the dance floor.

Your mouth was dropped open, able to catch flies as you watched the criminal participate and ‘blend in’, as Sharon had told you all to do.“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Bucky asks Sam, his eyes trained on the Sokovian dancing, pumping his fist in time with the music.

“Zemo’s got moves.” Sam stated, tilting his head as he watched the man begin to clap, twirling his finger around for an encore of his performance, which he was more than willing to give.

You stood up straight in your heels, and began to walk, though your boyfriend caught your arm, turning you around to face him and the man that practically dragged you both out on this mission. “Where are you going?”

“To dance with the guy that framed you for murder, and is basically your sugar daddy now. Perhaps I should start calling him that last word instead of you.”

Sending Bucky a wink as he growled, Sam gagged at the mention of the kink, the pair intently watching as you strutted to be beside Zemo, your shoulders rolling back as he turned to you, showing you how to keep pace with the beats.

“That’s your girlfriend.” Sam spoke, his eyes wide as he watched you attempt Zemo’s eye catching gestures. It was partially embarrassing and entertaining for them both all at once.

“She was your friend first.” Bucky quipped back, biting the inside of his mouth as he tried to contain his sexual frustration whilst surveying how you danced, albeit in no way sexually, with another man.

“And you’re apparently her daddy, old man.” His back turned stiff as Sam patted him on it, flaring his nostrils as he contained the stroke of anger that withered inside of him. He was right, he was your daddy, and he’d remind you of that after you were done with your educationally reprieved session of dancing with the baron.

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seasonschange-butpeopledont · 2 years

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Wish You Were Here: A Not-So-Warm Welcome

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC (Valentina “Val” Garcia) / Santiago Garcia x Frankie Morales (platonic)

Warnings: Family drama, mentions of the death of Val & Santiago’s father (and a family pet, very briefly), a bit of cursing, domesticity, drinking, a bit of blood, references to drug use, Pope probably has PTSD, and Tom is an ass as per usual. You might want to punch Pope in the face.

Word Count: 3,669

Author’s Note: In a dramatic shift from the pure softness that was Sunday Mornings, Pope has arrived to cause some chaos in the Morales-Garcia household. The fluff will return momentarily, with an extra side of ✨drama✨

Summary: When Pope returns to recruit the boys for his mission, he finds that things aren’t as he left them, and not everyone is so ready to welcome him home.

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Pope glared down at the phone in his hands. He heard an overly-pleasant voice announcing boarding for group-whatever. He’d bought his ticket last minute and paid twice as much as it was worth; he expected he’d at least wind up on the plane sometime before take off, but he wasn’t necessarily holding his breath. Not that it mattered when he was so annoyed with the fact that it had come to this point to begin with.

None of those assholes had answered his texts. And he needed them this time, bad.

What was left to do but get on a plane and drag them down here himself?

He wants to be surprised at the distance between them as he scrolls through the three years of unanswered texts and voicemails, but…

There’s a text from Benny informing him that Will’s fiancé had left him. He could really use a friend right now. You should give him a call, Pope.

A picture from Tom of Tess’ first day of junior high.

An email from Will. An online article in the local newspaper’s sports section. Benny won his first professional fight. Go team.

A voicemail from Frankie. We got married. Tried to call… a few times, actually. We really wanted you to be there.

Another voicemail, this time from Val. Dad’s gone. Heart attack. He never made it to the hospital. Mom is a wreck, Santi. The funeral is on Friday… Please be here. I need you.

And then nothing. A year and a half, that’s all it had taken for them to give up on him.

Pope doesn’t blame them.

He didn’t know what he had come to Columbia for, not really. He remembered the bullshit he had spouted off to the guys, something about empowering the people of his mother’s homeland. It had sounded real fucking noble at the time, but it wasn’t the truth.

He was running. Or maybe he was chasing something, trying to hold on to the only life he’d ever really known. Terrified of slowing down long enough to let his demons catch up to him.

He didn’t know how the rest of the boys did it. They just fell back into civilian life as if any kind of normalcy was out there for them after all they had seen and done.

Well, he did know how they did it. Ironhead made himself king of the group therapy sessions down at the VA, Fish had his dealer on speed-dial, and Benny beat the shit out of people for a hundred bucks a pop. God only knows what selling condos did for Redfly’s issues.

And Pope ran around South America playing the hero. They all had their ways of coping.

A hint of guilt made itself known in his gut when he looked at the voicemail from his younger sister. He hadn’t gone to the funeral. He’d called his mother, given her some excuse about a lead he just couldn’t lose, and buried himself deeper into the hole he’d been digging for himself.

Frankie’s finger hovered over the delete button as he heard the water in the shower turn off. He tapped the button, erasing the messages, and tossed his phone down on the bed beside where he sat. He dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples to stave off his impending stress headache. And it wasn’t even 8:00 am.

Whatever Pope was popping out of the woodwork for, he knew it wasn’t as straightforward as he’d made it out to be. It never was with him.

The click of the doorknob had his head shooting up, straightening his back and rolling his shoulders. Val emerged from the bathroom, humming softly to herself with a pleasant little smile on her lips. Her brother was still something of a sore spot for her, a disappointment she had never quite gotten over, and he’d done his best to hide the messages from her.

He wasn’t in the habit of lying to his wife, but he was in the business of keeping the peace. He’d been there when their father had died, had held her in his arms as she cried at the funeral Pope hadn’t bothered to attend. Val hadn’t so much as spoken her brother’s name since.

“Is she awake yet?” Val asked conversationally, shuffling through one of the dresser drawers.

“Not since four,” He replied, pushing himself up off of the bed and heading towards the bathroom sink, and set to brushing his teeth. The mirror was still steamed over, but he could just make out Val in the reflection, pulling on a pair of leggings and a sweater.

“She must have tired herself out last night– this morning? Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“Must have,” Frankie echoed through a mouthful of toothpaste.

He could feel her watching him, the normal affection in her eyes replaced with a hint of worry. “Is everything okay?” She asked with a frown. Val studied his face carefully, tracing his features with her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“You just seem… off.”

“It’s nothing, babe,” He dismissed with a shake of his head. “Just tired. I really need Luisa to start sleeping again.”

“You and me both,” She sighed. “Do you have time for coffee?”

“Not really, I’ve got to get to work,” Frankie replied regretfully. “Ben asked for the day off to get ready for his fight tonight, so it’s just me at the garage this morning. Can’t be late.”

“Oh, right,” She nodded. “I forgot you’d be home late. Will you wish Benny good luck for me when you see him?”

The disappointment on her face was clear— they spent so little time together these days, and he could tell that working from home with just the baby for company was taking its toll.

“Of course,” Frankie agreed, a hint of teasing in his tone. “He’ll be so thrilled you remembered.”

Val rolled her eyes, giving his shoulder a playful shove. The small crush Ben seemed to harbor for his wife— greatly exaggerated on Frankie’s part— was a running joke between them, one that never failed to lighten the mood. As the advice columnist for the local newspaper, Val had it on good authority that his crush was actually the check-out girl at the market where Benny shopped for groceries, but he did seem to be a bit of a hung up on Helpful Holly if the frequency of his letters was anything to go by. He didn't know it was Val, of course, but Frankie got a kick out of it nevertheless.

By the time he’d finished rinsing, the humming had picked up again, and the usual morning routine of dancing around each other in their cozy, half-renovated home commenced once more.

Twenty minutes later, Frankie left the house with a quick peck on the cheek, Luisa’s chubby baby hand waving him off, and a thermos of coffee warming his hands against the brisk morning air.

To say that things hadn’t been easy lately would be an understatement. With the suspension of Frankie’s pilot license and the new baby, things had been exceptionally tight financially.

If it wasn’t the odd jobs that he hated, or the fact he had paid the mortgage late again, or the constant anxiety that kept him on edge, then maybe it was his eight-month-old’s apparent sleep regression.

Frankie was exhausted in every sense of the word, but he liked the life he was building here, imperfect as it was. Whatever trouble Pope was about to bring into it, Frankie was sure that he wanted no part of it.

“It’ll be strange not having you around,” Frankie mused.

His truck was idling in front of the airport as they prepared to say goodbye. Pope had sold his car last week, knowing that this trip to Colombia was one-way, at least for the foreseeable future. He’d been bumming rides from the boys the past couple of days. Each of them was reluctant to admit that they were grateful for the opportunity to spend a few extra minutes with their friend before he left them all behind.

“Yeah? I’m sure you’ll be able to hold down the fort until I get back,” Pope chuckled, patting his shoulder.

“It’ll probably be easier without you always getting me into trouble.”

“Trouble? If it weren’t for me, you’d spend every Saturday night alone in your garage trying to resuscitate this piece of junk–” He rapped his knuckles against the door for emphasis. “I keep your life interesting, Fish.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Speaking of trouble, this thing with my sister...“ Pope smirked as Frankie’s head snapped towards him, his eyes wide with surprise.

Frankie shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he murmured, “Ben Miller is a dead man.”

“Is it serious?”

“Um… It’s not— I mean, we’re— “ Frankie fumbled, unconsciously reaching up and pulling the brim of his hat lower to hide his embarrassment. “We haven’t really talked about it yet.”

“Relax,” Pope dismissed his discomfort with a wave of his hand. “I’m her brother, not her parole officer. Now, if it was Benny she was sneaking around with, that would be a whole different story. Just promise me that you’ll look out for her while I’m gone.”

Frankie let out a sigh of relief, relaxing his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. “You know I will.”

And Pope believed him wholeheartedly. After everything they’d been through, he trusted Frankie with his life.

He’s jarred from the dream– the memory– by the elderly woman who had sat next to him on the plane, sucking in a sharp breath when she reached out to shake his shoulder.

“Wake up,” She huffed. “I have a connecting flight that leaves in twenty minutes–”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” He grumbled, getting to his feet. His neck and back ached from sleeping hunched over in his seat, and he rolled his shoulders to relieve some of the tension.

There was a lingering discomfort pit of his stomach that stuck with him all the way to his rental car, and it seemed to grow worse with each passing mile that brought him closer to the idyllic little town his friends had made their home.

Through his phone full of unanswered text messages and a very brief stint on social media, Pope knew that things with Val and Frankie had, in fact, gotten serious.

The “I’ve got the new baby now and my lady doesn’t want me doing this kind of shit anymore” kind of serious that was currently threatening to blow up his plans, much to his annoyance.

The smile on Frankie’s face when he talks about the new baby is something that he hadn’t been prepared for— not that he’d spent much time contemplating it as he drove from the airport, running through his pitch. It had been one thing to know that his best friend had become a father. Lots of people their age were parents now. Pope was no expert and had no burning desire to go out and start a family of his own, but babies were cute enough from a distance. When they were calm and quiet and not covered in their own excrement.

It was putting those concepts together, Frankie and a baby, that was throwing him. He’d seen Frankie do some shit—wild, crazy, dangerous shit. Horrible shit that still haunted him, amazing shit that he’d never take credit for. Pope had always imagined his best friend retiring on a beach somewhere, full Margaritaville style. Perhaps flying celebrities and weekenders with too much cash to burn to and from the mainland to keep himself occupied. Maybe he’d get a captain’s license, too, if business got slow.

But it was easy to see the pride reflected in his eyes when he talked about the tiny human that had recharted the course of his entire life. Pope had never seen him so… enamored. Even with Val, back when Frankie was mooning over her all those years ago, it had been nothing compared to this.

He sees it then, perhaps for the first time since he got off the plane. These weren’t the same men he’d left behind three years ago.

The recce is a harder sell than he anticipated, but he talks them into it eventually. He isn’t sure if he’s surprised that Frankie is the last holdout. Pope didn’t know anyone in their right mind who would turn down easy money like that, no matter what shit they had going on back home. Seventeen grand was seventeen grand, and if he played his cards right, they could easily turn that into a couple hundred thousand. Millions, even. He isn’t sure if it’s loyalty or guilt that finally wins out, but there’s a heaviness in Frankie’s shoulders when he finally gives in.

Benny won the fight, if one could call it that. Benny worked the crowd well, kept on his toes, and most of the blood on the mat was his opponent’s rather than his. Will stayed behind, dragging Benny off to the locker room to fuss over his baby brother’s bloody nose.

It’s just the three of them, then. Tom, Frankie, and Pope meandering through the crowd and towards the parking lot. He wasn’t sure he could get a decent buzz off warm beer anymore, but he felt like a teenager again, completely invincible with his boys at his side and ready to take on the world. Tom had confiscated his keys, and twice Frankie had to reach for his arm, preventing him from picking a fight with the guy who’s knocked into his shoulder in the crowd or trailing after the blonde who’d been eyeing him all night.

“Where are you staying tonight, Pope?” Tom asked finally as they broke free from the mass of bodies exiting the gymnasium.

“I was hoping I could crash on a couch,” Pope admitted, stumbling slightly as they reached the parking lot. He hadn’t thought that far ahead once he’d made up his mind to buy the plane ticket, not even bothering to figure out a place to sleep. If worse came to worse, he could always sleep in his rental car. He’d certainly slept in worse places.

Frankie sent Tom a pleading look, but he simply shook his head and scoffed, “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who’s screwing his sister.” Charming as ever.

Frankie glared at him but didn’t engage. It wasn’t worth it, even if Tom was right in his own fucked up way. If Pope needed a place to stay, he knew that Frankie would offer it. They were family, after all.

“Holy shit, this thing still runs?” Pope asked, patting the body of the old Ford.

“More or less. She got a new transmission for Christmas last year,” Frankie remarked. “Val wanted me to sell her, but…” He trailed off. There was an awkward beat of silence before Pope spoke up again.

“Is Val gonna be okay with this?”

Frankie shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels slightly. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Pope raised an eyebrow, challenging his response. “You aren’t going to call her first?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Pope gave a soft snort of amusement, hitching his duffel bag higher up on his shoulder. He got the sense that he was something of a sore spot in the Morales-Garcia household these days.

“Better get going then. Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

Frankie gave a nod, opening the door for him before walking around the front and climbing in on the driver’s side. Pope followed suit, sighing as he relaxed into the familiar worn leather on the bench seat.

Pope reached for the photograph tucked into the visor in front of him. Val, a few years older than he remembered her, and a baby. So obviously Frankie’s, with the same dimple in her cheek and big doe eyes.

“What’s her name?” Pope asks as he stares down at the photograph. He’s just sober enough to feel guilty for not already knowing.

“Luisa.”

A hard lump forms in his throat, and he turns his attention back to the blurred headlights of the passing cars.

They’d named her after his father.

Frankie turned down a gravel driveway, jolting Pope from his daze as the truck took the bumps.

Once they’d passed the thick line of trees, he could see the small, white farmhouse set against the backdrop of the lake. It was extremely modest, a fixer-upper that was likely an ongoing project for Frankie. Fairy lights hung from the roofline, extending towards a nearby tree and illuminating a picnic table.

Frankie put the old pickup truck in park. He held his finger up to his lips, signaling for Pope to be quiet as they headed towards the front door. The heavy wooden door creaked on its hinges as it opened. They were greeted by a German Shepard lounging in his bed by the door, waiting for Frankie to return. His eyes opened upon their entrance and closed again once he was satisfied that they weren’t intruders.

“’Night, Pax,” Frankie murmured, bending down to scratch behind his ears.

“Pax? What happened to Ranger?”

Frankie straightened, still not quite looking at Pope.

“He died a couple of years ago. I sent you a text about it.”

There was a sharpness to Frankie’s tone that hadn’t been there before. He wondered how many texts and voicemails Frankie had left that had fallen on deaf ears. Had he called when Luisa was born? On his wedding day? How many times had Pope let him down?

“Nice place,” Pope said politely, his eyes roaming over the peeling wallpaper in the hallway. Nice was a generous assessment, but it had good bones.

Frankie snorted quietly, shrugging out of his jacket. “It’s a work in progress. Turns out renovations are a lot more fun when you actually have the cash to fix things.”

Pope felt the sting of guilt cut through him once more. Frankie needed this job. He could see in his eyes how tired he was. How much he wanted to make things good for his family, to provide for his little girl.

“Honey, who are you talking to?” A sleepy voice croaked from the end of the hallway. Pope could just make out the sound of bare feet padding along the hardwood floor before Val emerged from the darkness.

She squinted, her eyes still adjusting to the dim lamplight. Pope could see her shut down the moment her sleep-riddled brain put the pieces together.

“Santiago?”

A wave of emotions swirled in his chest, mixing with the alcohol in his veins and forcing bile to rise in his throat. The coldness in her tone washed over him like a bucket of ice water.

“Hey, Valentina,” Pope greeted, raising a hand in a half-hearted wave. He’d dreaded this part since the moment he’d bought the plane ticket. Facing her again after all those years, after everything that he’d missed…

She didn’t look at him the same way he remembered. There was something guarded there now, and he instantly regrets not opting for the motel they’d passed on the highway. She wasn’t happy to see him.

“Frankie?” She prompted expectantly.

“Surprised the hell out of me too, babe,” He shrugged casually. She raised an eyebrow, the pair of them having a silent conversation that Pope wasn’t privy to. He could only imagine that they were negotiating the terms of his stay.

Frankie’s trademark puppy dog eyes brought them to some kind of resolution, and with a sigh, she muttered, “Just keep it down.”

Frankie nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

And without another word, she turned, disappearing once more into the direction she’d come from. Pope sent Frankie a grateful look, sure that he would be paying for his hospitality later.

“There’s a quilt on the back of the couch,” Frankie told him, gesturing to the worn leather sofa Pope recognized from Frankie and Benny’s old house. It was a damn comfortable couch, one that he’d crashed on plenty of times before, now covered with a throw blanket and decorative pillows.

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” He continued, “And the kitchen is that way.” He pointed in the opposite direction.

“I’ll talk to Val about all of this in the morning, and we’ll figure out a better place for you to stay while you’re here. In the meantime, whatever you do, do not wake the baby. She’ll probably kick us both out,” He warned before heading off towards what Pope assumed was their bedroom.

Frankie was a good friend, even after everything.

Dropping his duffle bag on the floor with a soft thud, Pope kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the couch. He recognized the stitching on the quilt as his mother’s and pulled it over himself. It was soft and heavy, and it reminded him of home.

Sleep didn’t come to him easily anymore, no matter how much he wished it would tonight. Instead, he was left to turn over his mission in his mind, again and again, walking through his plan step by step before his thoughts turned back to the team he’d assembled.

Benny was an easy hook, young and hot-tempered with an unwavering loyalty bred deep in his bones. Will named his only condition, and Redfly was searching for some kind of redemption wherever he could find it.

But the fact was, they had nothing to lose.

But Frankie and Val were a family now. They had a baby, a quaint little fixer-upper on the edge of town, and enough problems of their own to handle without Pope throwing a few more into the mix.

As Pope stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of crickets chirping outside the window and the soft cries of his niece waking from her sleep for the umpteenth time that night, it occurred to him that maybe he was asking too much.

General Taglist: @theravenreads @marshmallowtraver @computeringturtle @artsymaddie @heythere-mel @jaime1110 @rosiefridayrogersunday @amneris21 @adriiibell @practicalghost

Pedro Characters Taglist: @pascalisthepunkest @coldlilheart @fuck-goes-on @spideysimpossiblegirl @grogusmum @fangirl-316 @writeforfandoms @tobealostwanderer @diaryofkali @littlemisspascal @pjkimrn @curiouskeyboard @felteppsters @dinsangelx

Frankie Morales Taglist: @freeshavocadoooo @fangirl-of-randomness @darnitdraco @punkerthanpascal @quietpainter @lawfulgranola @meanperegrine @marvelousmermaid @luxmundee @tanzthompson

Wish You Were Here Series Taglist: @marvelousmermaid @hnt-escape @luxmundee

And… People I Think Might Be Interested But Will Untag if Asked Taglist: @artemiseamoon

#Frankie Morales #Santiago Garcia #Triple Frontier #frankie morales x ofc #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #santiago pope garcia #fic: Wish You Were Here

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

Hello,

Can you do a zemo or Laszlo x reader where he is helping the reader get away from an abusive boyfriend?

Also happy (late) birthday!!! 🎁 🎉💐

Acceptance [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Reader]

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: mention of abuse

A/N: I had to do Laszlo, mostly because I feel like Zemo's way with you in an abusive relationship would be like: consoling you while accidentally getting your ex murdered.

Laszlo was quietly dictating to you while you typed quickly onto your typewriter. You were his private secretary and you helped him with correspondence and noting down ideas and reflections during his sessions or while he planned a new article or book.

You loved your job, you learned so much and your vision of the world broadened widely since you met with the alienist.

Somebody that wasn't happy with this arrangement was your fiancé. Your engagement was going on from few months but he courted you a lot before, your father adored him because of his military background and your mother would have prepared you to move into his house in a second just because of his last name.

You weren't deeply in love with him from the beginning but at least he gave you the feeling that you could earn some happiness, some kinship maybe with time.

But then the twist of fate, your friend Sara found you this job opportunity at the Institute and you begun enlarging your circle of friends and then Dr Kreizler taught you a lot about human mind, about what is instinct and what is feeling, about how some ideas that they put in your mind were just the easy way out to complex questions about women’s bodes or human mind.

He trusted you and you trusted him.

You fiancé seemed unsettled by the situation and often gave out remarks on how Kreizler kept you out at ungodly hours and it wasn’t respectable for your name and how you should be more careful. You found Dr Kreizler an handsome and interesting man from the moment you shared the first courtesies, so you didn't feel like getting mad at your boyfriend since you had a little pin of guilt in you, even if in reality nothing ever happened beside a very good friendship, but in such times even that could be seen as too much and you, being you, knew perfectly how your mind travelled discreetly toward the handsome doctor.

The situation with your partner started quickly deteriorating, your family admired him so much and saw him as the perfect candidate for you that they didn't even consider something could be going wrong. When you slowly begun to put together how he talked to you, the words he used to address you started striking in, from remarks to proper insults until they felt like a judgment given from above to you. You talked about it with your parents but they justified him. He probably meant it to 'wake you up'. You're too sensitive. He is a hard man, he probably means it in the best way and you're overreacting.

When words became actions, you didn't know who could you talk to so you kept quiet.

Under the heavy cloths of the victorian Era your shameful secret was guarded, the tickling clock toward your wedding day felt more and more like being condemned to life sentence in prison.

"Damn"

You hissed as you typed the last sentence wrong and you had to do it all over again.

"Y/N" Laszlo said as he leaned his head on side, cursing from you was rare if not completely unexpected.

"I apologise doctor, we can keep going and I will adjust it alone, I don't want to rob you of your time"

It was a tendency that you took up lately to be a bit too much apologetic. You apologised for everything, he almost expected you to be apologising for breathing. Which wasn't healthy but he promised himself not to be his usual alienist self with you and start analysing every change.

But he hated to see you like this, you were disappearing for some reason. You brought sunshine in the Institute and in his office, you decorated your desk with your favourite items and colours and he missed to see them, to see you express yourself, your smile, your questions always giving him the chance to rethink, to revise theories he gave as granted.

"Come, stand up" Laszlo said as you looked up at him surprised but he was already walking away so you had to follow up.

He guided you out of the office and up over the stairs, you climbed more and more behind him huffing because of the clothing giving you little space for movement until you arrived to an heavy door that Dr Kreizler opened with a key he kept in his pocket alongside with others.

Little it took you to understand you were on the roof of the Institute, the cold breeze hitting on you as he held the door open for you and you came out with him. It wasn't too cold, the sun was still up in the late afternoon.

"I hoped you'd like to talk to me here, I lock this place because kids would come here and it is not too safe, but i often come up here to reflect"

You nodded slowly as you stared at the buildings and then at him again.

"I am fine"

He stared at you as he leaned his head on side as he leaned over the edge of the roof in a relaxed sitting position, the wind blowing lightly his perfectly combed hair "Take your time"

"Dr Kreizler, I really don't"

"We agreed about you calling me Laszlo, did I do anything to have you taking this privilege away?"

You stared at him, breath clung into your chest.

"No, it is not that, it is, well, it is not easy with my fiancé, I mean to have me working for a man and call you by your first name is not, well, appropriate”

He stared at you as he could tell it was a truth, but it wasn't enough.

"Did he want to call off the engagement? I can talk to him, reassure him that nothing happened and of my integrity toward you and the absolute respect you ever had toward your profession"

He said as you bit the inside of your cheek, but you tried to hide it.

"I think it is not needed"

"So it wouldn't be enough for him, that's what you mean?"

You almost chocked on air because it was true, it was an hazard he did from that comment but the result made it worth it.

"Y/N" he said taking a deep breath in and moving closer to you “I am not here to tell you how to live your life, I am nobody’s counsellor about right choices”

You looked up as he was so close to you and he was staring directly to you.

“Don’t take this as me talking to you as an alienist or your chief, but as a friend who is deeply concerned about your current state”

He took a brief pause and the fact you were too afraid by that closeness to reply, it just showed how much there was underneath the surface.

“Nothing can’t be undone, not even an engagement” he finally said “It is some time that you’re not only distant and that’s since that ring appeared on your finger, but you’re also deeply sad and I am afraid to ask what is going on with your left shoulder to make you always wince when you lift even a pen”

You bit on your bottom lip as you trembled on the spot biting so hard, almost to the bleeding point until he pushed gently his hand to touch your jaw making you undo that silly torture onto yourself, the lump that you kept for month in your throat finally ready to be set free as you let to a sob of pure pain.

“I-I..”

He looked at you and smiled warmly, welcoming

“..I am so scared”

He leaned his hand on your back gently pulling you into a hug as you begun to cry like one of the kids in the Institute.

A cry made of heavy tears of fear, of loud uncontrollable sobs and your hands clasped over his jacket like for a dear of life.

“It is okay, I am here, you can stay here for the night and we will make everything alright”

His voice calm, warm like the home you daydreamed when imagined to have a family yourself.

“Doctor, I swear I am not lying”

“I know Y/N, I know, I believe you” he said as he gently held you resting his hand on your back, gently caressing you into warm circles “You are being so courageous to do this first step, no fear now, I won’t let you live another day like this”

“But”

“I told you” he murmured looking down at you “I believe you”

You nodded as you finally accepted it, he could really help you, even if you said barely anything he saw it, he saw your pain and your pain could have been caused by a needle, an angry cat or an abusive man.

It didn’t matter, your pain was now his, and he won’t let you live with it any time soon.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

Let me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

#dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler #dr kreizler #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kriezler x reader

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lemonjoonah · 4 years

Text

Level of Restraint (M)

Pairings: Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 13K Rating: M Genre: Thriller, smut, office AU, BDSM AU Warnings(contains spoilers): This story contains very dark themes and may not be suited to all readers, protected sex (vag+anal), threesome, double penetration, bondage (including partial suspension), dom/sub roles (reader is a sub), praise kink, mild degration, sensory deprivation, spanking, fingering, cum feeding, mild breathplay, sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, discussion of safe word, Namjoon is a professional dom/sex worker, referenced discrimination of sex workers and those who participate in BDSM, public outing of sexual practices, inappropriate workplace relationships, referenced death of minor character, yandere character, misidentified sexual partner, manipulation, bribery, blackmail, implied stalking, violence.

Summary: As a co-founder of a consulting firm you can’t afford to be caught in a scandal. So flirting with your secretary, Jimin, would be out of the question. Giving your client’s son, Taehyung, a reference for a sexual partner would be reprehensible. And having regular paid BDSM sessions with your dominant, Namjoon? That would be a career ending disgrace. It’s too bad the only restraints in life you approve of are the cuffs that bind you to the bed, because there are those hiding in the dark waiting to take advantage.

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this story. It was hard not to question the level of darkness this tale descends to. In the end your assurances and aid are the only reason this fic made it to fruition. Upon reading you might notice several thematic references to the ‘Fall of the House of Usher,’ by Edgar Allan Poe and the Greek myth of Tantalus. They are two of my favourite tales, and together they greatly represent the darkened desires depicted in this oneshot.

...

8:55 am KNJ: Good girl.

Your heart races upon receiving the response you’ve been waiting for all morning. The sender had requested proof that you were wearing his last minute gift, and you were happy to oblige with the lewd photo. Finally seeing his simple praise for your efforts makes you grin from ear to ear, as you enter the front door to your workplace’s building. The message will be enough to get you through the day, high on the thought of his praise while his present is wrapped tightly around your ribs. Though the garment may be confining, you’ll endure anything to receive those two simple words.

Reluctantly glancing up from your phone you look ahead to see the elevator closing.

“Hold the door!” You call out, making a run for it. Mercifully the gap between the doors widens allowing you to climb in before it begins the long haul up. Glancing over to your savoir, you find your secretary standing at the panel. “Thanks Jimin.”

“No problem,” he responds with a warm smile. “What floor do you need?” Joking as he pushes the button labelled 14.

You playfully shove his arm while trying to catch your breath. Had he left you down on the first floor there's no telling how long it would be before the elevator returned. The building in which you work has been down to one lift for a couple days, with no promise of when the other will be fixed. It’s not a surprise really, ever since you moved into this complex three years ago you’ve been plagued with breakdowns and shotty utilities. Considering how opulent the tower is, with it’s gilded elevators and halls adorned in finery you expected better, but people often overlook flaws when they have something pleasant to stare at. Allowing the management to slack on some of the failings of the structure.

“Do you think you could send maintenance another message?” You ask your hand clutching your waist to comfort the stitch in your side, no doubt a result of the corset concealed beneath your clothes.

“Consider it done.” Jimin replies, pulling out his phone. “Are you okay Miss?” He asks, your heavy breathing failing to go unnoticed judging from the concern in his voice.

“Fine.” You quickly change the subject, not wanting to linger on your current state. “What’s on my schedule for today?”

“You have a consultation with Mr. Kim of HOC Industries in an hour-”

“Really?” You cut in, confused about the sudden change. “But I just saw him a few weeks ago. Why is he coming in?”

“He didn’t say, I just got a message last night from him stating he required an appointment immediately.”

“That’s not a good sign...” You groan, wondering what information had dropped to spur a need for such an urgent response.

“Afterwards you have an early lunch with journalist Min. Followed by a one o’clock appointment with Jeon Jungkook to go over the new web layout. And the rest of office hours are slated as admin.”

You cringe over the prospect of bookkeeping. Your accountant’s involvement in a recent accident, placed him on an extended leave of absence. Since you are the only other member of your small staff qualified to balance the books, this leaves you burdened with his duties. “Remind me later to make a posting for a temp position.”

“Noted,” Jimin remarks as he continues to scroll through his phone. “Oh and don’t forget, you also have your monthly massage appointment with Kim Namjoon tonight.”

You smile at the thought, you would never forget a booking with him, especially since he’s the reason for your current state of breathlessness. You’ve been counting down the days until you get to see him, with only a few hours left you can barely contain yourself. To everyone who asks he’s a masseur, but the services he provides are far more aggressively intimate than a standard massage. You force a small cough to cover the involuntary moan starting to escape.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s not a complete lie, with the stress from work there have been a lot of restless nights recently, your appointment tonight should help to relieve a bit of that tension. There’s a loud groan as the elevator comes to a stop at your floor. You look up to the top of the lift and over to Jimin with worry, both of you stepping off with haste once the doors open.

Your entire office space consists of only a few rooms. You and Hoseok had started this company only a few years ago, focusing on corporate consultations regarding public image and approval. All things considered you’re doing rather well. With your negotiation tactics, Hoseok's philanthropy efforts, and Yoongi on retainer as your media source, you’ve been able to take on several giant corporations.

As you walk down the hall you find the temperature starting to rise, and upon stepping into your’s and Jimin’s shared office, you’re hit with a wave of heat. You whisper your curses as you check the thermostat which has been jacked to its highest setting and refuses to shift back down.

Giving up on the system you turn to the windows, but even those are a struggle after being neglected for so long. You call out to Jimin for assistance, waiting no more than a second before he is by your side. But even with his help you only manage to open them to the grand extent of a sliver before you’re forced to give in. At least with your office door open there’s now a small draft pervading the space.

“I guess I’ll send maintenance another message,” Jimin chuckles.

“You don’t think he’s trying to push us out do you?” You inquire about the building owner, and one of your own clients. You don’t usually make such bold claims, but with Jimin’s ties to the dubious man, it’s hard not to ask.

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Though I think this is more likely due to his lack of regard for the workmanship going into his properties.”

You nod overlooking the now stuffy room which holds both your desks. It serves its purpose with a sufficient amount of daylight from the large windows, and a partial wall giving you each a bit of privacy. You’d rather not have to leave this building and the status that comes with it, but there seems to be no end with these faulty appliances. “So much for being the height of sophistication.”

While you settle into your workspace you’re already dying from the heat, a sweater and camisole overtop your corset was not the best choice for today, but you didn’t want to risk anyone noticing the garment beneath. As you shuffling through your newsite tabs Jimin readies the coffee maker, returning to you with the first dose of your daily caffeine needs.

“You’re a saint.”

Jimin smiles brightly at your compliment, living for the praise as always. “Do you want some ice on the side?” He laughs as you tug on your sweater to stop it from sticking to your skin.

“Only if I can rub it all over.” You sigh jokingly as you take a sip of the hot beverage.

“I’d be happy to assist.” His smirk and piercing gaze look to be downright serious, his flirtation hitting a new high today.

“Sorry Jimin, I already have a massage appointment later. I think Namjoon would be very upset if you took his job from him.”

“That’s too bad.” He mutters, his lip still curled into a smile before stepping away from your desk. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d be more than willing to compensate him for his loss.” Jimin has never been shy about his attraction to you, a desire which you most certainly reciprocate, but your own company policies keep the both of you tied to flirtatious word play. With Jimin winning more often than not when it comes to provocative sentiments.

He hangs around on your side of the room, straightening the chairs and stray flies, while you continue your search for whatever prompted the need for your haste meeting. At last you find it, on the featured articles of a prominent celeb news site, with the headline reading, ‘The Dark Desires of the Kim Family Heir.’

Much to your chagrin the issue isn’t regarding your client, but his son. As much as you try to stay out of personal family matters, sometimes they are unavoidable, and this looks to be one of those cases.

‘Kim Taehyung has long been considered one of the most eligible bachelors. He has it all, money, power, and a spot on every top ten most attractive list, but those who have been with him more intimately say he craves something more...’

Your mouth falls open in horror as one of Taehyung's former partners exposes their most intimate moments with him. ‘The Gucci suits and custom cologne are just an expensive mask for the darkness beneath. He would ask to be tied, bound to the bed and struck. He wanted pain and pleasure...’ The further you read the more your chest tightens. You’d rather not jump to conclusions, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. A fact which must make it all the more painful for Taehyung. You can only imagine what he must be going through, to have such private details exposed and exploited. He’s currently living your worst nightmare, a societal judgement over one's deepest desires. For professional reasons it would probably be best to stay out of this private matter, but you can’t in good consciousness let him suffer alone.

“That bad?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah...” You cover your mouth to hide your shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill on Taehyung's behalf.

Jimin shuffles in behind your desk with you. By lowering himself to read off your screen, his face falls next to yours. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he leans in to eye the article in question. You should shoo him away, but you can’t help but be curious of his response to those who engage in such practices. As his eyes scan the page his grip on you tightens, his breathing erratic just like yours, with a whispered “‘Fuck,” escaping his lips.

“Are we interrupting something?” A voice calls out from your open door.

Your head snaps over in shock to find your next appointment waiting for you, with his son in tow. You jump up pushing Jimin back so you can greet your guests properly. “Mr. Kim! No not at all, please come in. This must be-”

“Taehyung...” The younger man mutters as he walks in, slumping down in one of the chairs in front of your desk. His sunglasses are still in place, the smell of spirits wafts over you along with the spicy scent of what must be his referenced cologne. He’s a sight to behold, a person of his caliber could make a fortune off his looks alone; he wouldn’t even need a drop of his father's fortune. But of course, that would have been before this public outing of his bedroom tendencies. Now he’s more likely to be seen as a pariah rather than an asset.

Directing the elder to the seat next to him, you take your own once again as Jimin retreats to his desk. You don’t even have the chance to exchange pleasantries before Mr. Kim launches into the purpose of their visit. “I assume you saw the article about my son?”

“I did, but-”

“And? What can we do about it? How can we spin it? Our stocks have already taken a hit.”

“Your son just had a serious breach in personal privacy...” You pause hoping that he’ll have some semblance of a realization that he is not the victim here, instead he simply waits for you to continue. Attempt to hold in your dismay, you give him the only answer you can, “Sue for defamation if you’d like, but whether they are printing fact or fiction the damage is done. The press is still focusing on your family due to your early misdealings in your company. I would argue that if you turn the view of operations around then there is a very good chance that the media will start to back off personal affairs.”

“You can’t expect me to twiddle my thumbs and wait. My shareholders are currently questioning his ability to lead, they might seek to replace him.”

“Good.” Taehyung mutters. “If those prudes have a problem with me, I’d rather not have to work with them.”

You bite your lip to conceal a snort of laughter. Mr. Kim fails to notice but his son seems to have caught your slip, taking off his glasses, he pierces you with a strong gaze.

Kim senior starts up again looking for sympathy and a way out, “Do you know how many of his flings I’ve had to pay off in the past-”

“Maybe you should just stick to your own business.” Taehyung eyes his father darkly.

“They made it my business when they started squealing to the press about what kind of man you are.”

You try to rein the situation in, this battle between father and son having no place in your office. “Mr. Kim! I would actually like to speak to your son for a moment. We can see if there’s a possible remedy for this... exposure.” You stand up, calling over the wall for your secretary "Jimin? Would you mind taking Mr. Kim to see Hoseok?” You turn back to your elder client, practically pushing him out the door into your secretaries’s care. “Jung Hoseok has been continuing his work on your company's philanthropic efforts. I’m sure he would love to show you what he has done with your portfolio.”

“Do you need me to come right back Miss?” Jimin asks with a pleading stare, his eyes flicker over to the young man still slumped in his seat.

“No I think we’ll be okay for a bit.” You mutter to him quietly as Mr. Kim proceeds down the hall. “Just keep him away for a few minutes.”

Once they're both gone you sit back down across from Taehyung with a sigh.

“So are your going to talk some sense into me?” He drawls with disdain.

“Fuck no,” you scoff, rummaging through your drawer. “Can I get you anything coffee, water... advil?” You finally pull out the bottle of pain relievers and offer one to him as you take one yourself, your head ready to explode in frustration over his father.

He tilts his head looking somewhat surprised, “So why did you send him away then?”

“I thought you could use a break. I’ve worked with many people like your father, they all want things done their way, and you’ll never be able to tell them otherwise. He’ll never admit to his faults, and the fact that he’s the real reason the media is all over you. So as long as you don’t tattle on me, we both can make it through this meeting with him thinking that he’s won.”

“Deal,” Taehyung agrees while he chuckles at your ploy.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” You offer once again.

“Actually I’ll take some advil.”

“I thought you might.” You poor him glass from the cooler and offer up the pill. When his sleeve pulls back to reach for the cup you can’t help but notice the glaring red evidence of a rope abrasion on his wrist. While he throws back the pain killer, you take another sip of your coffee rolling the bitterness over your tongue before breaching the difficult subject. “It can’t be easy to have the press prying into every aspect of your private life.”

“It’s not so much that they pry, but...” Taehyung hesitates, his brow furrows as his fingers run through his hair tugging on the strands between his fingers. “People know that they can go to them with a story and make money off any relations I have with them. And the press will gladly pay top dollar for what they have to offer.”

“The story is not a complete fabrication then?” You already know it’s not judging from his father's response and the marks on his arm, you just need to hear him say it.

“No, it’s mostly true.” He admits, watching your reaction.

“Then it would seem that your desires might be thought unconventional by many of your past partners?”

Taehyung nods, taking another sip of his water.

“From one unconventional individual to another,” you pause waiting for your own admission to sink in. To your delight Taehyung immediately perks up listening attentively as you continue. “There are more discreet ways to fill those needs.”

“Are you offering?” He asks, raising a brown along with the corner of his lips.

“No, I doubt that I would be very good at meeting your cravings, since we both hunger the same type of... attention.” You smile back at him, rejoicing in your mutual secret. “But I do have a friend who will take very good care of you. I’m going to give you a name and phone number, it’s up to you if you want to contact them, but I can assure you any conversations or actions between you and them will be kept strictly confidential. It’s not cheap,” you explain, but doubt that’ll be a problem for him. “But I assure you it’s safe and private.”

Taehyung can barely get the information from you fast enough once you jot it down. His hands, reaching for the sheet, accidentally knock over your coffee instead, sending the drink in your direction and staining your sweater. “I’m so sorry, here let me help you.” Taehyung jumps up and runs and grabs napkins from the coffee station.

“It’s fine really.” You assure him, making an attempt to stop him as he starts to blot the saturated material.

Unfortunately it’s at this moment that Jimin walks in to see your precarious state. He stands there for a moment in silence before explaining the reason for his return. “Mr. Kim said he needs to leave soon, Miss. He wanted to see if you two were... finished.” There’s glare set in his eyes for Taehyung's forwardness.

“Yeah, be right there, just one second.” You turn back to Taehyung, exchanging the damp napkin in his hand for the paper you had just written on. “Think about it, I hope you’ll give him a call. I don’t give out his information unless I think it will be of help to someone.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung mutters quietly while reading the slip. “If I were to go see him, would I find you there too?” He looks back up at you, biting his lip after posing his query.

“Likely not, he keeps his sessions very private, but you can always discuss your...” You glance over to Jimin who is still waiting, and well within earshot. “Preferences with him.”

“Then I’ll consider it, thank you.”

After seeing Mr. Kim and his son off, you're left to deal with the stain on your sweater, with only fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your lunch appointment. “Jimin could you call Yoongi and let him know I’m running a little late? I need to stop by my apartment on the way.”

“No need, I’ve got an extra shirt here.” He pulls out one of his own from his desk. “ I know it’s a men’s fit, but I think we can make it work.”

“Why do you keep that here?” You laugh. He only looks at you and the stain with a raised brow, no words needed to prove his point. “Never mind, stupid question, but I can’t take your shirt Jimin.”

“I insist, go put it on.” He forces it into your hands as you double check your watch, your time constraints leaving you with little choice.

Stepping behind the dividing wall, you strip down to your camisole, breathing a sigh of relief that the beverage hadn’t seeped into the fabric of the corset. Quickly throwing his button up over top and tucking it in, you check to ensure your intimate garment is still hidden relatively beneath the shirt before coming back out for his opinion “Does it look okay?”

Jimin nods, but when he reaches out to touch the shirt you recoil, fearing that he will discover what you wear beneath. He chuckles and persists, “I’m just fixing your collar.” He moves in closer standing just a couple inches away. Pinching the two seams of the fabric together, he considers the change. “I think it would look better like this.” You nod, keeping silent as he follows through. Pulling the fabric tight around your throat, your breathing is forced to pause for a moment as he fastens the top button. “Better?” He asks, while his hands linger around your neck.

“Much.” You whisper, as his fingers drift up to hold your chin, with the tip of his thumb dragging along the edge of your bottom lip. You stand there confused as to why your flirtatious game has taken such a physical turn. Although his actions are prohibited and should be censured, you can’t fully condemn them, deciding instead to remove yourself, rather than reprimand him. “I-I should go. I don’t want to be late meeting Yoongi.”

...

It was a productive lunch to say the least, but that was by no means thanks to you. Your focus was distinctly elsewhere. While you toyed with your bottom lip, thinking of how Jimin had touched it just moments before, Yoongi gave you everything you needed to secure several new clients. Even now as you return, disembarking the elevator on to your floor, you still can’t concentrate on the day ahead.

On the walk back to your office Hoseok catches you, quickly pulling you into his own and closing the door behind. “You need to do something about Jimin.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” You ask, nervous that he had seen you two together before you left for your meeting.

“Your client earlier, Mr. Kim, he said that he caught you two acting rather close, making suggestions that you two are involved in a sexual relationship. Usually I would disregard a comment like his but-”

“It’s not true, you know I wouldn’t!” As much as you might want to act on Jimin’s advances you’ve never crossed that line. You know it must have been bad for Hoseok to bring it up, for him to take this serious tone is evidence of his deep concern.

“I know that, but this isn’t the first time someone has thought you two might be a little too intimate. Some of the staff have also considered the notion. And I can see why, the way he looks at you, talks to you...” Hoseok trails off as his eyes linger on your apparel in confusion. “You weren’t wearing that earlier were you?”

“No, I had some coffee spill on me earlier. Jimin was nice enough to loan me his.”

Hoseok tilts his head as he raises his brow as if this validates his concerns.

“He was just being helpful!” You offer, but Hoseok doesn’t look to be swayed, and he’s right, this is a workplace not a morning after situation. “Fine, I see your point. So what do you suggest?”

“Redistribute him, send him my way if you have to, god knows that I could use the extra hand. You could even play it off as a promotion, just get him out of your office.” Your heart drops at the thought, not wanting to give him up. Hoseok seeing this takes a softer tone. “Listen I can see that you like him too. I’m sure it feels good to have his attention, but you need to get this out of your system. You have to put a stop to it. We can’t afford a scandal and you know it.”

With the assurance that you’ll think on the issue, and giving Hoseok your solution by tomorrow, you return to your office. But the problem is far from easy, though you did not lie about your physical relationship to Hoseok, you have been keeping something from him. From all of them. Jimin will never accept a promotion if it takes him away from you. He’s never worked here for the money, he doesn’t need to when his father owns half of the city, this building included.

...

-3 years ago-

“Mr. Lee, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” You pull out the chair to sit across from him. The massive mahogany desk of his placing a rather large distance between the two of you.

“Yes well, my building manager said you were very persistent.” There’s a small roll in his eyes as he looks from you down to the computer in front of him.

“I wanted to discuss one of your properties, an office space in the Madeline Suites.”

He takes a swift glance at your modest appearance with narrowing eyes. “Forgive me, but I believe that location might be out of your price range.”

“Monetarily yes,” You agree. “But we offer services which might be helpful to you.”

“I do not deal in favours. I can see that this meeting was a waste of time, you may go.” He waves the back of his hand to shoo you out, while his secretary grabs the door from the outside.

“I am not asking for a favour, but offering you my services. I’m the co-founder of a corporate image consulting firm. And come this time tomorrow, I believe you’ll be looking for someone within our realm of dealings.”

“And what makes you say that?” Lee asks, his words laced with cynicism.

You lay out the first page of the article which Yoongi had sent you, stretching it across the wooden surface to place it in Mr. Lee’s view. ‘Real Estate Developer Lee Gungsang Faced Prior Allegations of Unlawful Evictions and Price Hiking.’ “This is slated for tomorrow morning’s front page.”

Mr. Lee is quick to send his secretary off, the door shutting once again. “How do you know about this? These cases were settled before they made it anywhere near the courts.”

“I have my sources.”

“Then stop this! I will pay whomever needs to be paid to prevent this from leaching out. You want the office space, it's yours.” He’s voice is desperate, you have him on the hook, the question now is, how long will he let you drag him for?

“That’s very generous of you, but nothing will stop this from going out tomorrow. My offer is simply to help you get ahead of it and lessen the damage.” You explain, revelling in the fact that money can’t hide everything.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

You pull out a contract for your serves. “I will need you to sign off on my services first. A small fee plus a far more reasonable price for a three year lease of the offices on the 14th floor of the Madeline Suites”

“Without knowing your plan, I think not.”

You give him a bright smile before mimicking his earlier statement. “I do not deal in favours Mr. Lee.”

He grumbles while taking the pen, eyeing you with a dark gaze as he signs on the dotted line.

With the ink still drying you hand over another small document. “Here are a few of my suggestions. Twenty percent of the commercial residences that you have just vacated will be handed over to non-profits for a drastically reduced monthly lease. I’ll even let you pick which you want to support.”

He looks up at you mortified. “This is excessive.”

“No this is necessary. I’ve seen corporations do far more than this when they are not dealing with a scandal. Your accountants will agree with me that this is the best move, it can be seen as a donation and therefore tax deductible. For the evicted private residences, I was thinking of partnering with a refugee resettlement program but we can discuss that more in depth later.”

You carefully tuck away your contract in Lee’s file before dragging another concern to the forefront. “I do have one more request, before I leave today.”

“What more could you possibly want?” He scoffs.

You lean in to deliver your short but important demand. “A heads up.”

“I don’t know what you mean...”

“I mean if there are any other past dealings or actions which might impact your company I need to be aware of them.” There’s always more hidden in the dark, you have one of those secrets on hand now. You need to see if he’s willing to be upfront with you on every dealing of his past, otherwise you might be forced to dig him out from another grave a couple weeks from now.

“There’s nothing else.”

“Nothing?” You ask again as you pull out your phone ready to bring forward more evidence.

“No.”

“So the knowledge of you having and hiding an illegitimate son... you don’t think that’s important? The existence of the only child of the Lee empire, isn’t newsworthy?”

“How did you-” The terror in his face looks to be even greater than the prior accusation.

“You attempted to evict all of the residents who stayed in your residential apartment for over 10 years if they refused to agree with a massive lease hike. Park Jimin was the only one who wasn’t touched. He has no record of a job, living off what must be money given to him by his parents, so I looked into them. His father wasn’t listed but his late mother, Park Haesoon, used to work for your company, and 22 years ago she signed a NDA issued by your lawyer.”

You open to Jimin’s public instagram page turning it around for his father to see. “He may take mostly after his mother, but I can still see a few clues to your family resemblance.”

“When does this one drop?” Lee asks in dismay.

“It’s not going to, at least, not from me or my source. We try not to deal in personal life consulting, but I am going to give you some advice in this matter. Get ahead of it.”

“My wife won’t hear of it.” Mr. Lee mutters through clenched teeth, it’s easy to see that this conversation has him very much on edge.

You nod seeing the crux of his dilemma. “I looked into the approximate date of his conception, you were newly married at the time, were you not?”

“Yes. She knows, but her family does not, they have a large political presence and we cannot afford to lose all support from them. Trust me, the boy is not worth the risk.”

“He’s your child!” You berate the CEO, your anger getting the better of you as you think of the emotional toll on Jimin. Not only did he lose his mother but his father won't even publicly acknowledge him.

“I won’t be swayed on this matter. If you have nothing else to say you may leave.” Mr. Lee rises from his desk and once again gestures towards the door. “I’ll have keys to your new office space delivered to you tomorrow along with the lease. But I should warn you, if there is even a whisper of his name in public in conjunction with mine, I can assure you, your so-called firm won’t last another week.”

...

Less than a month later you and Hoseok have moved your entire enterprise to the new office space. You’re holding an open house for several different staff positions, when the most unlikely of applicants walks in your door, Park Jimin.

He hands you a piece of paper which you can only guess is his resume, because your eyes fail to leave his face, your mouth unable to form words in your state of shock. Closing the door behind him, he gives you a nervous smile. “Judging from your expression, I take it you know who I am?”

You manage a single nod, still confused as to why he’s here, now, with you. It’s lucky you’re conducting the interviews alone, otherwise it would be difficult to explain your shock to Hoseok without exposing Jimin’s lineage.

“I’ve been wanting to meet with you,” Jimin confesses, adding sheepishly, “My father told me of your meeting. He said you took a bit of an interest in me, even found my social media accounts.”

“Oh, oh no.” You finally manage to sputter out, far more anxious with the younger man than his father. You never intended to meet Jimin, let alone have him find out you dug into some very personal aspects of his past and present. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to invade your privacy. I was only trying to figure out what was going on. And when I learned the truth, I wanted him to own up to his mistake of hiding you.”

Jimin chuckles lightly, sitting down in front of you, “I didn’t come here looking for an apology Miss, I know why you did it. I merely wanted to meet one of the few people to ever successfully scare the shit out of my father.”

The wide beaming smile accompanying his statement spurs a laugh from you, while also allowing you to relax in his presence. “Sometimes you have to intimidate these people to get them to do the right thing. But I’m sorry I wasn’t able to convince him to go public regarding everything.”

“That’s not your fault. In the end it was just nice to hear that there's someone who thinks I deserve better.” Jimin adds, with a look of sorrow leaching into his smile.

“Of course you do, but I must ask, why come here now?” You take a moment to confirm that it is in fact his resume that he’s handed you. ”I can’t imagine that you need a job.” He’s appearance alone is enough to tell you he’s buried in wealth, though his father has not given him the family name, it looks as if Jimin has gained some of the assets.

“Actually that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“Your father didn’t pressure you to come here to keep an eye on me did he?” You ask with scepticism. Keeping watch over possible threats wouldn’t be a completely off brand for those of his status. And with you knowing some of his deepest secrets you could likely be considered one of the biggest risks.

“No.” Jimin chuckles, briefly raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’m here of my own volition. Money isn’t my biggest concern, I’ve been hoping to build connections. I want to use my time wisely and work with someone who is worthy of my focus, and that just so happens to be you.” He finishes with a suggestive smirk, making you wonder if you’ve won his affection too.

“And what does your focus get me?” You ask, trying to weigh the benefits versus the risk. You doubt that Mr. Lee will respond kindly to you hiring his son, but if he continues to deny his son’s existence then what right does he have to disagree?

“Anything you require. I was interested in the posting for your secretary, but any position beneath you would suit me nicely.”

...

There’s no way you’ll be able to convince Jimin to willingly change roles and work for Hoseok instead. But you can’t deny that your co-founder’s points are valid.

Jimin greets you warmly as you enter your office. “Did you have a nice lunch?”

“Yeah, it was good.” You respond, forcing out a smile.

“Really? Because you look upset.”

You curse Jimin’s ability to read you at a time like this. “I promise, lunch was fine. Yoongi gave me some substantial leads.” You sigh sliding back in your seat. With your values shaken and morals questioned by Hoseok, you are deeply in need of someone to brace yourself on. Wanting to step out of the realm of responsibility and control even if it’s just for a moment, you make a request to Jimin. “Would you go fetch Jungkook for our meeting?”

“I can just call him in.” He makes the case looking reluctant to leave your side.

“Please Jimin just go get him. I need a few minutes for a personal call.”

Jimin looks at you crestfallen before finally leaving. It’s not often you keep things from him, he can scope you out too well for that. But Kim Namjoon’s actual role in your life is the one secret you feel is the most imperative to hide from him.

You pull out your cell, not wanting to use his number on your work phone. After two rings he picks up. “Couldn’t wait a few more hours to hear my voice baby girl?”

You're too embarrassed to admit he’s right, settling on another excuse for your call. “N-no I just wanted to let you know that I’ve sent someone your way... sir.”

“Don’t lie to me I can hear the need in your voice.” He chuckles lightly as he taunts you. “Your reference already reached out to me. I’m excited to play with him, is he just as handsome as he sounds?”

“More so.”

Namjoon hums on the line in gratification. “My babygirl, giving me another pet to play with.”

You blush from the praise. Taehyung makes the sixth person you’ve suggested following the charity ball you met Namjoon at a couple years ago. Where he, much like you, was secretly scoping out potential clients. Every one of those patrons you’ve given him since then has been his pet, but you, you’re his babygirl.

“I was wondering...” Namjoon’s carries on, in a tone far more hesitant than usual. “Tonight would you be willing to try something a little unconventional? Would you like to share him?”

“W-would that be okay?” He’s never suggested adding another to your sessions before, but you can’t deny you’re intrigued by the prospect.

“He mentioned an interest in you, and after discussing his needs I feel that I require someone other than myself to pin his desires on. You’ll be the carrot while I’ll be the stick. Do you think you could do that for me?” Namjoon proposes in a low purr dragging every heated thought and possibility to the forefront of your mind.

“Yes sir.” Your response is instant, with little thought required. Helping Namjoon with Taehyung? You’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity. There’s a small knock on your office door with the return of Jimin and Jungkook trailing behind him. You start to panic while still on the phone with Namjoon. “I’ll see you later then?”

Namjoon can of course detect the change in your tone, but instead of letting you off the hook he pulls you further. “Did someone walk in on you babygirl? I take it they don’t know about this side of you?”

“No they don’t.”

“No sir.” He calls out your lack of decorum, an error which you know you’ll pay for later. “Such a shame they’re missing out. What do you think they would say if they knew of my plans for you tonight? How I intend to hang you like forbidden fruit above another man. Do you think they would approve?”

Your eyes widen as Namjoon continues and Jungkook takes the seat in front of you with Jimin standing behind him. You clear your throat and hold up your finger to them, gesturing for another minute. Turning away to hide your face as you continue to try and end the call. But hanging up on one’s dom is never advisable, condemning you to listen for as long as he wishes to torment.

“I bet you would like them watch, wouldn’t you?” Namjoon asks, egging on your sinful thoughts, transferring them from Taehyung over to your co-workers.

You shift your thighs trying to dispel the building need as you consider the notation of them watching. Imagining Jungkook’s wide eyes taking in the sight, likely with a hand on his cock, he’s an innocent man with strong desires. You’ve known others like him before, they act with naivete but when confronted with an opportunity for more, they don’t hesitate to gorge on what is presented to them.

And Jimin, would he accept your darker needs? You wish he would, desperately wanting him to play along, to help mould you into submission. Your head now filled with thoughts of kneeling before him taking him in your mouth while he christens you a good girl. If only you could be sure that he wouldn’t react like most people, like those who condemned Taehyung. Your eyes flutter back over to your secretary who is looking at you with deep suspicion. You desperately need to end the call or risk giving yourself away. “I should probably-”

“Am I embarrassing you baby girl?” Namjoon teases with an amused laugh. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“Yes...”

“Yes sir.” Namjoon reminds you once again. “I’ll release you for now, but I better see you here at seven o’clock sharp. Is that understood?”

You breathe a sigh of relief at the release. “Yes sir.” After finally hanging up, you offer up an apology. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Jimin inquires with a soft tone, but a quick lick to his lips shows his intentions to be far from innocent. His clenched fists and hovering nature further pointing towards jealousy.

“No one important.” You smile through the lie, careful in your attempt to comfort him. It’s pointless to keep acting in this way, but you still can’t bear the thought of disheartening his feelings or pushing him away.

...

After your meeting with Jungkook, you're left with a stack of paperwork and your ever persistent lack of concentration as you try to figure out what can be done with Jimin. Should you just tell him the issue, would it help or would it make the situation worse? If he knows how he is perceived then will the affection stop, and if it does, will you struggle with that loss?

“Can I walk you to your car Miss?” Jimin asks with his jacket in hand. You check the time, reading just after five. So lost in thought you had accomplished almost nothing in the last few hours of the day.

“I think I might just stay here until I have to leave for my appointment, I still have a bit more work to do.” You explain rubbing your hands over your face as you pull yourself from your daze.

“Do you want me to stay too then?”

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you. But before you go I’d like to discuss something” You gesture to the seat across from you which he takes with hesitation. You’re usually not so formal and he can clearly spot the difference. You open your mouth and pause trying to find the right words as his eyes shine in your direction. The evening sun pouring into the room bathing his skin in with golden light makes it so much harder to stick to the issue at hand. You eventually resort to staring at the irrelevant papers on your desk as you open with your concern.

“I’m worried that our actions towards each other imply that our relationship is not strictly professional.” You blurt it out quickly, hating every word that crosses your lips.

“Have I been making you uncomfortable Miss?” Jimin’s expression falls along with his question, the heartbreak ringing out clear in his voice.

“No, no. It’s just, I’m concerned about how others see our interactions.”

“Oh, so someone said something to you then?”

“Hoseok mentioned that a few people think we appear to be a bit more than boss and secretary.” You know it cowardly to bring Hoseok into this, but the information is second hand. You can’t be sure what others have said exactly.

“Well you do know more about me than most.” Jimin laughs lightly.

“That’s not what they are implying. They think we are engaged in a sexual relationship.”

“And...” He draws the word out as if the implication is nothing, implying there should be a better reason for your concerns.

“We aren’t Jimin!”

“Well, there's only one way to fix that.” He stands up leaning towards you over your desk. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it. We could keep it a secret if you’d like, no one has to know.”

You doubt Jimin could keep a relationship between the two of you hidden, with the way he dotes on you already, you’re one passionate night away from finding three dozen roses on your desk. “Someone would find out, and the fall out-”

“Fuck the fall out,” Jimin states with resolve, reaching out his fingers tucking back a strand of your hair before curling beneath your chin. “I’m tired of this charade. Hoseok only said something because he’s jealous. He’s jealous that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Jimin,” You whisper. “Even if that was the case, that still doesn’t make it right.” You pull back from his touch. “You should go. Think about what I said, because if we can’t maintain at least some level of restraint and professionalism... then you might be better off working for someone else in the office.”

“So you’d rather keep your social image than be happy with me?” Jimin accuses, the usual warmth having completely vanished from his face.

“It’s not like that. My standing is my life, it’s my career, any blemish would destroy everything I have.” You attempt to express the fear inside you, the weight that bears on you every day. You already have so many secrets and liabilities, but one as close and extensive as a relationship with him might finally crush you and everything you’ve built. “I like you, I really do, but I can’t take the risk. You have to understand, I’m not like you. I don’t have a secret trust fund to fall back on.”

Jimin looks as though you’ve stabbed him, pulling away he heads to the exit. “I’m sorry I’m not worth the risk. You know, I thought you were better than that, but it would seem you’re just like everyone else.”

The door slamming between you echoes through the office as you sag in your chair. Never in all your years have you ever sunk so low. By taking him on you wanted to ensure Jimin’s happiness, to show him his value despite the lack of acknowledgement from his father, but now it seems you’ve fallen into the same role as those who have hurt him before.

...

You type your code into Namjoon’s door, stepping into his hall quickly and shutting the door behind you. It’s just before seven and usually you find him in his living room already waiting, but today it’s empty. Not wanting to disturb him, you take a seat on the couch and wait patiently for him to join you.

You feel ready to fold in on yourself as you continue to dwell on your argument with Jimin. If you laid out boundaries earlier you likely wouldn’t be where you are now. Hating yourself over his confession, and your inability to accept it.

There’s movement from the bedroom door as Namjoon’s partner Seokjin comes out to greet you. You look up in bewilderment as he takes your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Namjoon has already started with the other client, so he sent me to fetch you.”

You nod understanding Namjoon’s divergence from the norm, it wouldn’t be safe practice for him to leave Taehyung alone in a precarious position. Now looking to the door with curiosity, you’re excited by what lustful visions will greet you on the other side. But when Seokjin presents something to you it’s clear that you won’t get to see those sights.

“You’ve been asked to wear this.” He holds out a wide silken strip, one that Namjoon has used as a blindfold in the past. You allow Seokjin to cover your eyes, with a touch far more gentle than you know Namjoon’s to be. You don’t want kindness, craving instead to be broken in by the man in the other room, especially after the damage you’ve done today. The loss of your vision will have to be punishment enough for the time being.

“Does he want me to undress too?” You ask, touching the silk over your eyes, you're completely blind and already longing for the next step.

“No he wishes to save that pleasure for himself.”

You smirk thinking he might, you’ve been wearing his gift all day it’s only right that he gets to see it first.

There’s a knock and a click of the door before Seokjin takes you in hand again, leading you in. The air is warmer and heavier than that of the living room, making it impossible to draw a fresh breath.

Seokjin pushes down on your shoulder, a wordless order to kneel. The plush carpet meeting your knees as you lower yourself, if only you could reach out to get a better sense of what’s in front of you, but form dictates that you keep your hands on your lap.

The bedroom door closes, signalling Seokjin's departure. Sending one last wave of clean air before you're smothered once again. Locked away for the night with your master and his new pet. There’s a small creek from the mattress and the familiar rattle of restraints against the bedpost. You can just barely make out the tone of Namjoon’s low whisper as he speaks to the current tenant of the bed.

Footsteps land to your left, muffled by the wall to wall but still sending vibrations through the floor. As Namjoon approaches, your heart pounds wondering what his first move against you will be. He takes his sweet time letting the anticipation build as your chest continues to heave in its attempts to take in the thick air. You keep your posture, maintaining your stance with the knowledge that he will inspect you. Head lowered, hands on thighs, perched on your toes as your knees dig into the ground. Your legs soon start to tremble as your feet strain to bear the weight.

Namjoon settles right in front of you, the slow draw of his breath reaches your ears, while the heat of his exhale hits your face. A hand trails up the outside of your thigh stilling the tremor in your legs with a forceful grip. You freeze wondering if your jitters will cost you, you can’t let him find fault not if you want him to reward you with his presence.

But as he takes your chin tightly between his index and his thumb, you know you're in the clear. He tilts your head up as you breathe a sigh of relief. “Such a good girl, setting the perfect example.” His fingers slide down petting the column of your throat with a firm touch. “I was so happy to receive your picture this morning, did you wear the gift all day as ordered?”

“Yes sir.” You pant back, eager for him to see for himself.

“It wasn’t too hard for you then, to go so long in such a confined state?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” He purrs in your ear as he starts unfastening your shirt. He hesitates on the buttons for a moment. “Babygirl, would you care to tell me why you're wearing a men’s shirt?”

You swallow not wanting to admit that it’s the fault of the man currently lying in his bed. You plan to take the fall, wanting Namjoon’s undivided attention even if it’s in the form of a punishment. “I spilled something on mine sir.”

“So clumsy.” He has the shirt completely off now revealing the corset for him and likely Taehyung to see. Namjoon helps you to stand, unzipping your skirt he pushes it to the floor. You feel so helpless without your sight but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind assisting. He uses the soft fabric of the shirt to dab at the sweat beading on your skin. “Who, may I ask, clothed you in theirs? Such an expensive label, he must think highly of you.”

You shift in place, made uncomfortable by your inability to answer. Knowing if you say his name thoughts of him will be summoned to your mind. You don’t deserve to think of him at such a time, not after you led him on and left him dry.

“You don’t wish to tell me?” The feel of Namjoon’s breath leaves you, the sounds of his feet indicating he’s moved to the right of you. Heading to a space you know to be occupied by a table and closet full of his tools. There’s a scrap of metal and what sounds like the jingle of buckles.

“No sir.”

“And why is that?” Fingers trail up your arm as Namjoon signals his return to your side.

“Because I’m not allowed to have him sir.”

“A noble response.” Namjoon reasons while he wraps the leather strap of a familiar collar around your neck. “But I still plan to get that name from you before we’re done.” He buckles it swiftly checking the tightness with two fingers. You thought him finished but he progresses to cuff your wrists in leather too, tethering them together in front of you.

He leans in again with a hushed request, “Still know your safe word?” You nod repeating is back to him before he leads you on towards the bed.

Namjoon stands behind you as he presents you to his new pet. When you gave Taehyung Namjoon’s number you hadn’t been expecting this but you can’t deny enjoying the prospect. But you find the silence and lack of reaction from him unnerving. “I asked him not to make a sound,” Namjoon explains, “And he’s abiding by my rules so well it’s he?”

Namjoon takes your hands helping you to feel the current state in which Taehyung is interned. A Leather cuff just like yours binds one of his wrists with a short chain leading to bedpost. You imagine that his other limbs are restricted to the other corners of the bed, for Namjoon has bound you in the same state before.

“Can he see?” You ask Namjoon wondering if he has been left blind too, or if he’s eyes are watching you now.

“Can he see you? He can babygirl, in fact, he hasn’t looked away once, and why would he?” Namjoon sits you down on the large bed to join Taehyung before pulling down the matching underwear to your corset. “They’re so wet, have you been soaking these all day?”

You nod in response. A delighted Namjoon makes an offer to Taehyung. “Would you like a taste pet? A reward for being so good.” Namjoon revels in his situation with a chuckle, the man beneath you must have nodded. “Then open up.” You know what a taste means for Namjoon, those panties of yours are most certainly shoved into Taehyung's mouth. He lets out a groan of satisfaction at the welcome intrusion.

Namjoon’s hands find your waist dragging you up further on to the bed with your knees now resting on the mattress. “You’re going to straddle him for me babygirl.” He shifts you over pulling up one of your legs to settle them on either side of the man beneath you. Your knees bent with your calves coming to rest against his bare hips. Without his billowy clothes he is far more slight than you expected, but his skin feels firm and toned.

You slowly move to lower yourself knowing what you will come down on top of as you sit, but Namjoon seems to have other plans in mind. He takes your bound wrist, lifting them above your head and latching the cuffs to a chain in the rafters of the canopy bed. Once fixed in place he tests your limitations, a quick tug to show you even with your arms fully extended you are only able to lower yourself to half a kneel. You groan in frustration with the realization you can’t move any closer to the cock that rests below you. It’s just as he promised, hung like forbidden fruit above another man. Your dominant’s flare for the poetic never failing to surprise you.

“Problem babygirl?” Namjoon cooes in your ear. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because if I recall you still need to be punished for your lack of formality on the phone earlier today.”

Your stomach drops as you realize he’s going to discipline you right now, in full view of Taehyung. The heat rises to your face at the thought of being demeaned in front of another. Namjoon’s hand cups your bare ass, readying it for the assault. “You failed to call me sir twice, three for each lapse should do it.”

While the first strike eases you in, those that follow are not so gentle. The ring of his index biting your flesh with each impact. The third strike is so strong you pivot forward on your knees, your back arching as you bare forward still confined to the corset and chains. The weight of your body pulls painfully on your shoulders for a brief second, but Namjoon is there to catch you. Stopping you before you can slip and more, and propping you back in place before continuing.

One hand lays firmly on your stomach to prevent the shift from happening again, while the other rubs the curve of your ass mapping where he should strike next. You can feel the warmth in your skin as the blood rises to the surface in reaction to his beating. Your nerves are caught in the struggle between pain and pleasure, even as the sixth and final blow lands.

“Good girl.” Namjoon whispers his touch disappearing, as you ease down against your restraints. You hang completely by your wrists while your legs quake from the shock. Every nerve in your body feels as though it’s been left on fire with nothing to quench the flames. Leaving you to hang there for what seems like eternity.

“Sir?” You whisper in the dark as the heat continues to build inside you. Wondering where he has gone your body reacts, begging for the return of his attention with a dripping cunt. And with Taehyung below that can only mean the steady drip of your arousal is left to fall on him.

“Babygirl you’re making such a mess.” Namjoon confirms along with a groan from the man beneath you. “But he appears to be leaking too. Do you want some?” You nod eager for a taste.

Namjoon obliges, grabbing your throat in one hand, he presses a damp finger to your lips for you to take. Your mouth latches over the offered digit, allowing the bitter fluid to sweep over your tongue. You're forced to let it sit there unable to swallow as the grip on your throat tightens, with the strap of the collar digging into your skin. Your mouth fills with saliva prompting you to close it despite your desperate need for air.

“Does he taste good?” Namjoon wickedly possesses knowing you can barely even nod. It’s when you start to tremble that he finally releases your airway.

You swallow quickly before letting your mouth hang open in a pant. With your lungs still restricted by the corset your breathing comes in short shuddering waves. “Yes sir, so good.”

“I think he likes having you drench him, shall we give him more?”

“Please.” You beg but Namjoon suddenly delivers a staggering blow to your backside, indicating your misstep. You’re left gasping from the sudden impact, swinging in the restraints as you try to recoil. “Please sir.” Your plea comes again this time with the proper decorum.

There’s a crinkle of what sounds like a condom wrapper as Namjoon readies himself behind you. His fingers damp with lubrication find your back entrance, your tight hole giving way to a single finger. “You’ve been training for me like I asked?”

“Yes sir.” You almost come at the thought of it along with pleasure with the swirling digit. You’ve dabbled in anal before testing out a few toys, but a few weeks ago he sent you a plug with a tapered t-shaped end, giving you strict orders to wear it to work the following day. Unfortunately that was the date you had scheduled a meeting with your whole team. You were a flustered mess as you fought through your presentation, Jimin’s presence by your side making it so much more difficult to maintain control of your arousal . But the full day of public and torturous stimulation was worth it, for the reward that night was a call from Namjoon. His orders led you through every action of self pleasure. Telling you when and where to touch before finally directing you to come. You’ve used the item several times on your own since, knowing your practice would help you in this moment. You wanted to make Namjoon proud and take him with little resistance. That desire now intensified with having Taehyung as an audience.

“Then you're ready to take me in front of him?”

You nod gripping chains of the restraints as Namjoon eases into you. “Just relax.” His hands glide down your shoulders and back, coming to rest splayed across your hips, the tips of his finger root under the corset and dig into your stomach. Your grip eases as you lean back into him. “That’s it.” He mutters quietly as you stretch to accommodate him. “Good girl.”

After taking a few inches Namjoon pushes down on the front of your corset bowing the metal latches back to so they release, with a few clicks and swift presses the garment is off allowing you to breathe deeper than you have all day.

“God you should see him babygirl, he’s so ruined by the sight of you. You have him panting for you.” You wish you could curse Namjoon for his choice to blindfold you and silence Taehyung, you would take any punishment that came of it, but all you can muster is a gasp while he continues to fill you more. “I wonder how he’ll react,” One of Namjoon’s hands leaves your hips coming to rest with something soft against your aching clit. “When he sees you come.” With a click the object vibrates, throwing you back completely onto Namjoons cock from the shock.

You catch Namjoon’s lustful groan between your cries. He starts to thrust inside of you one hand gripping your chest while the other holds the vibrate down in place despite your bucking hips. It doesn’t take long for you to completely fold. As the heat inside you finally reaches its peak you shatter, your head falling back on Namjoon’s shoulder as you convulse and moan. With nothing for your cunt to clench your legs grip the trussed man between them. He too lets out a sinful groan as the fluids from your fold continue to drip down your legs meet his adjoining skin.

Namjoon turns the device off and slips out, the bed shifts as he moves in front of you. When his hand cups your face you lean into his touch. “You okay?”

You nod hoping he’ll be lenient with your lack of speech. You hear him whisper as he checks in with Taehyung too. “I’m going to take these now.” Namjoon must finally be freeing him from the waded underwear of yours.

Namjoon’s hands find you again, playing with the arousal dripping down your legs as he drags his fingers up to the source. A finger grazes your folds slipping between without penetrating. You pull desperately against your restraints hoping that it might find its way inside.

“So are you going to tell me who you’re not allowed to have?” Namjoon asks again. “Or do I have to let you hang here all night?”

“My secretary...” You give in with a whisper, hoping that Taehyung won’t hear.

“And what’s his name? Say it and I’ll give you what you want.”

The deal is too good for you to resist, you last only a couple more seconds before finally giving in. Crying out, “Jimin,” as two of Namjoon’s fingers breach you. Your sopping slit squelching as he curls his fingers.

“There it is.” Namjoon sighs, his other hand brushing your cheek. “Is he the reason you’re so worked up tonight babygirl?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stutter as his fingers continue. He gives you another minute of bliss before removing his digits.

“You’re going to do something for me, okay?” Namjoon asks. You nod as he continues to hold your face. “That man between your legs, you are going to fuck him and imagine Jimin as you do so, is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Is that okay with you pet?” He asks the other occupant, who still remains silent with his answers. The sound of another condom wrapper, comes as your confirmation. Taehyung lets out an unexpected high pitched whine, likely due to the pressure that comes with the latex being rubbed down his shaft. You’re already so invested in the lie that he’s even starting to sound like Jimin.

Namjoon is once again behind you. You can hear the rattle of the length of chain that holds you up and as he sinks back into you, his cock slipping in far easier this time, your body gladly welcomes the fullness of his intrusion. He then lowers you inch by inch, with little strength left in your legs you are relying only on the restraints and Namjoon to hold you up. After gaining a bit more freedom you can feel the tip of a cock brushing up against you. Namjoon’s arm comes to rest on your thigh as he lines the erection up for you to take it inside. It’s a slow descent, as you stretch to accommodate both of them. Your thankful Namjoon’s mercy for easing you down gradually.

When you bottom out Namjoon pulls the chain down from the rafters he releases the length from your cuffs, but rather than discarding it he attaches it to your collar, tugging on it as if it’s a leash. Though your hands are still bound together you have the freedom to rest them on the man laying down in front of you. You take pleasure in dragging the tips of your fingers across his skin, feeling his abs flex and his cock twitch inside you as you do so.

Namjoon starts to thrust, keeping a close hold on your collar. While he pushes you are sent up and down on what you desperately want to be Jimin’s thick cock. After a few thrusts you are shoved forward entirely by Namjoon, colliding with the man beneath you. Your chest is pushed into his, as your bound hands are pinned between the two of you. While your head is left to rest on his shoulder, the tip of your nose is able to graze his neck. As you breathe in your mind continues to play tricks, the smell coming off him mimics that of the cologne your secretary wears, rather than the scent of Taehyung.

Namjoon must have unbound his legs as they bend up to cradle your own from behind his hips bucking into yours, with both men taking you at a steady pace.

You move in closer to his neck, with a lick you taste the salt of his skin showing your intentions. Biting down on the spot, you suck in deeply as your teeth dig in even harder. The carnal groans you receive from him sending shivers to your spine. There’s the sound of a soft slap, Namjoon didn’t hit you, but the man beneath you returns to his ordered silence.

Namjoon thrusts even harder, pushing you into his chest repeatedly. The thought of being fucked into Jimin’s embrace is too much to bear. Your cunt clenches as you continue envisioning your secretary, and how you're grinding your clit against his pelvis.

You cry out over the swelling girths inside you, knowing their both likely to come soon. Clenching down one last time you dissolve in the pleasure and contentment. Namjoon finishes first remaining inside while his pet comes too. He leaves you there laying upon your imagined Jimin, in your daze you can barely move let alone focus on reality. With a wave of exhaustion you start to slip from consciousness, but not before one last praise reaches your ears. Your delirium grants you the satisfaction of hearing the voice of Jimin whisper, “Good girl.”

...

You can’t remember the last time you slept so well. You woke early to find Namjoon had taken care of you in the night, he released your wrist cuffs, and removed your blindfold, after you had passed out from the physical exertion. The only restraint to remain was your collar which he asked you to wear today. Taehyung was sadly already gone, but you can’t deny it was nice to have Namjoon to yourself before you left.

Now as you head off to work, showered and freshly dressed, with a turtleneck hiding your gift, you check your phone for the first time. Finding a string of apologetic messages sent from Jimin in the early hours of the morning. You reply apologizing too and asking to revisit the subject as soon as you get into work. Thankfully he agrees, the smiling emoji he ends his text on sends a wave of relief through you.

You step in the front entrance of your building ready to handle and objectively listen to Jimin’s thoughts and concerns. While you wait for the elevator your phone vibrates listing a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hey it’s Taehyung. Hope you don’t mind, I stole your personal number from my father.”

“Taehyung...” Heat starts to rise in your face at the thought of last night. The elevator arrives and you quickly step in. “No, not at all, to what do I owe the honour of this call.”

“No need to be so formal,” He giggles at you.

“Sorry, habit,” You respond. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday...” Taehyung starts off.

But his words are soon interrupted by someone shouting, “Hold the door.” You comply, pushing the button to keep them open, while trying to keep your focus on your conversation with Taehyung.

“...It’s not often that I meet someone who I can be so open with. I called the man you recommended and I’ve scheduled my first session with him tomorrow.”

You freeze, unable to fully comprehend what he’s saying, surely he misspoke. It can’t be his first session. “W-what do you mean your first session is tomorrow? You were there-” The collar hidden beneath your turtleneck feels as though it’s tightening around your throat. “Last night, I saw you-” The line goes dead as the elevator closes and starts to ascend. It was Taehyung in the bed with you and Namjoon last night. You saw... nothing you saw nothing because of the blindfolded that you were asked to wear.

“Everything okay?” You jump at the sound of the other voice, forgetting that some else had gotten into the elevator. Looking up you find Jimin there beaming at you, his head tilted from his query.

“Namjoon,” You flutter with your phone, too panicked to even greet your secretary properly. “I need to call Namjoon.” But the line won’t connect, not with you in the elevator. “Fuck...” You try again your patience not willing to wait the minute it’ll take to disembark on your floor.

You are almost there when the elevator shudders and stops. The sudden halt sends you off balance, but Jimin’s there to grab hold of you before you can fall. You thank him before stepping back and putting a bit of distance between the two of you again.

Jimin turns his attention to the panel, pushing the call button, he waits for someone to answer, but the call remains silent.

While he continues in his attempt to make contact, every scene of the night before floods back to your memory as you try to piece everything together. It was Taehyung, it had to be. He must just be playing a stupid joke. He was surely going to shout ‘gotcha’ before the phone disconnected, but you won’t know for certain until someone can get you off this blasted lift. You sink to the floor and Jimin follows, unable to reach anyone on the outside.

Despite your best efforts to rationalize what happened, your panicked breaths fail to slow, Spots start appearing in your vision as the elevator sways around you. Your breakfast threatens to make another appearance on the polished marble floor.

“It’ll be fine. Someone will notice soon.” Jimin attempts to comfort you but even that won’t quash the fear raging inside you.

“It’s not just that...” You whisper. “Something happened last night. I need to call Namjoon, I need to figure out...” Who was actually in that bed with you. Your confusion and panic break free sending you into a fit of tears as you hug your knees to your chest.

“Hush, it’s okay.” Jimin readjusts, moving in front of you and taking your hands in his. He leans towards you as he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry babygirl.”

Your eyes snap to look at Jimin in alarm. Your prior worries are nothing compared to the terror which takes hold now. “H-how do you know that name?” Your stuttered words barely make their way past your lips.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt allowing you to spot a large red mark on his neck, right where you had bitten the man you once thought to be Taehyung. “I wanted to wait a bit longer, I wanted more moments like we had last night but it would seem that someone had to go and ruin it.” You pull back but Jimin’s hands shift to take hold of your wrists, mimicking the manacles that embraced you the night before. “Are you not happy babygirl? You got your wish. And I... I got what I’ve always wanted.”

“This is so wrong Jimin! You knew I thought you were someone else! You knew that I wouldn’t have done that last night if I knew the truth.”

“Even though I was the one you really wanted babygirl?”

“Stop calling me that! Just because of what happened last night does not make me yours. You lied to Namjoon. You said that I sent you. You told him you were Taehyung!”

Jimin gives a wicked laugh in response to your accusations. “Oh, but you are mine. Namjoon is the one who’s been keeping things from you. He’s been in my employ far longer than yours.” He coos as his fingers tighten their grip on you. “I was the reason you were introduced to him, and I was the one who bestowed you with that name shortly after.”

“No, that’s not possible, Namjoon and I, we met at a charity event.”

“Hosted by my father. Where I told him to make himself known to you, to entice you to become one of his pets. I may have acted the sub last night but I am the one who holds Namjoon’s reins, I always have.”

“No he would never do that! He’s considerate and-”

“Had so much to gain by dominating you on my behalf. Money, power, and an assurance of safety, he would’ve been a fool to turn my offer down. Especially since you were so willing to play along with him. I dare say he enjoyed his time with you, but I was the one who permitted him to touch you. I was there to listen, to read, and to direct every conversation. Those gifts he told you to wear to the office, they were all from me.” He lets go of one of your wrists to pull down the neck of your shirt. Revealing the leather band strapped around your neck. “Today it’s the collar, yesterday it was the corset, and a few weeks ago...” Jimin smirks as he recalls the memory to your mind. “You barely made it through that meeting thanks to my gift.”

It’s impossible to swallow the admissions coming from him, but regardless of what may be true or false, you won’t stand for any of it. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now.” You reach up attempting to remove the collar but Jimin pushes you to the floor pinning your arms above you as he straddles you. The elevator wavers from the struggle, teetering as you lay captive beneath him.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’ve placed yourself in. I hold in my possession your darkest secrets. One’s that will ruin you if they make their way out. Your illegal activity with a sex worker, your inappropriate sexual conduct with your secretary. Not to mention the names and dubious activities of every client you’ve recommended to Namjoon’s services.”

“Why... why are you doing this?”

“Because you found me. I worked so hard to exploit my father from the outside, getting everything I wanted without the threat of public exposure. I couldn’t let you ruin it all. When we first met I considered you a threat, but then I saw how easy and enjoyable it was to mould to my will. The more intimate you become with someone the more power you give them over you. Simply being your secretary isn’t enough, not if I want you in a more pliable state.” Jimin hushed whisper mixes with a haunting giggle as his lips come to your ear. “I plan to bend you to fit every one of my needs.”

“You’re psychotic!” You lash out trying to throw him off but he stems your revolt by planting himself further down on to you, sitting on your chest as the elevator sways.

“Psychotic? No, I am simply a man who found his passion amidst his revenge. I know what I desire, and vengeance has taught me how best to take it. So if you want to keep yourself and everything else around you from falling, I suggest you play along like a good girl. Or I promise you, my punishments won’t be as kind as what you’ve experienced before.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, already fearing his answer. He has you trapped in a gilded cage with him, where one misstep will send you plummeting to meet your end. Nothing that comes accompanied by such threats can be palatable.

“At work? To keep the status quo, I’ll remain your secretary, only so I can keep a better hold on you.”

“Hoseok won’t agree to that. He already thinks I should ditch you. I should have listened to him.”

“Then you will make him agree or he might have an accident, much like your accountant did. He too thought we were too close, even threatened to say something. Don’t worry I saved us from him, just as I’ll save us from Hoseok if you can’t convince him to back off. Do you think you can get him to agree now?”

You give a solemn nod, with Hoseok on the line you have no choice.

“After hours, we’ll drop the middleman.” Jimin lowers himself further on to you, laying down on top, his weight flattening you to the floor. With his head coming to rest on your restrained arm as he whispers further plans. “Every night you’ll come to me instead, and every morning you’ll have a new gift to wear. When we step off this elevator you’ll act as if nothing is wrong. You will go about business as usual, is that clear babygirl?”

You stifle a sob staring directly up and away from his eyes, not daring to give him the satisfaction of your fear. With little else to cling to, all you can do is agree for the time being, as much as it pains you, you choke out your compliance. “Yes...”

“Yes what?” Jimin purrs, his lips faintly touching your ear. “Address me properly, or I will find ways to discipline you right here on this lift.” His fingers tighten and nails bite into your skin.

“Yes sir,” you whine as a plea for him to stop.

Jimin mercifully lessens his hold on your wrists, hitting you instead with a smirk and befouled praise. “Good girl. I knew you’d finally see that I’m worth the risk.”

...

4K notes · View notes

kattwritesuwu · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Clingy!monsterTom x Depressed!Reader? Maybe with cutting and suicidal thoughts?

I sure can!!! I LOVE angst!!!!!

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Fandom: Eddsworld

Character: Tom

Reader: Depressed

Fic type: Comfort/angst

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This WILL heavily mention suic/de, blood, and perhaps other triggering topics, read at your own risk!!

Notes: People, I'm not trying to make depression and similar illness romantic, this is simply for comfort.

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I hate everything.

Well, not everything, but the majority, y'know? Everything just...sucks. Life in general, it's all terrible.

People are terrible. Sure, I've found a few choice people that aren't the bane of my existence, but even they have their flaws.

Am I saying that I'm some heaven sent angel? Hell no I'm not. I'm just as terrible if not more! I hate everyone, including myself.

Am I lying? Yeah. Do I have a crush on someone? Yeah. Am I gonna do something about it? Nope.

Why should I? It's not like I'll be here longer anyways...

I'm planning to kill myself.

Am I scared? Kind of. But at this point I don't care. I'm always scared anyways. Always on my guard around people.

Most people don't know the fear and pain of constantly feeling...numb.

It's not like I never feel anything, it's just so rare. My most common emotion is pain. I just want to curl up in a ball and die. But all I can ever being myself to do is cry, and even that's a rare occurrence at this point.

I feel so alone.

Friends? Yeah I have a few.... they're all a bit odd in their own way. Can't complain though, they're like family to me.

My real family? Not many immediate ones, plus, I moved to England five years ago. They called me everyday for the first couple of months. Nowadays, I can barely get a text back... I get that they have their own lives in their respective country, but man, it just makes me so cold-feeling...

I guess where I was going with this, is that I'm scared. Not of my inevitable death, but everything else.

I'm scared of anything and everything now that I think about it. I don't exactly mean common fears they talk about in elementary school, I'm talking real world problems.

I'm scared of failure, not sure why. I've failed enough in my life....it shouldn't even faze me at this point.

Im especially scared of people.

My friends? Yeah them too. What if I make a fool of myself and they think I'm an idiot? What if I make the wrong move, and they hate me? They probably hate me enough as it is...

That why I won't confess to Tom. He'll hate me afterwards. There's just no point in ruining something for nothing in return.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head as my arms and legs were sliced up by a blade driven by my own hands. It's wasn't like it hurt. All it really did was sting, I'm just that used to being hurt, I suppose.

As I was wrapping up my little 'session' I heard a knock on my door,

"(Y/N)! You in there? It's dinner time! I made breakfast for dinner!" A British accent leaked through my door.

I didn't scramble around at the thought of him walking in, my door was locked after all. It's not like I'm that stupid.

" I'll be there in a few minutes, Edd." I spoke back in a raspy voice, not bothering to yell. Edd has good ears, he can somehow hear a whisper from across the house.

It takes me a minute or two to get up and walk into the bathroom that connects to my room. I stumble a bit with the loss of blood.

Once I get in there I take a quick shower, just barely long enough to stop the bleeding and make it appear as if you just took an actual shower.

Once I get out of the shower, I slip on my (favorite color) hoodie.

That was an easy part of hiding my self abuse. Everyone in the house wore a hoodie of their own designated color.

I also slipped on a longer article of clothing to go onto my legs. Couldn't let them see my thighs either.

Once I finished the rest of my cleaning up, I headed out of my little bathroom, and in front of my door. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and walked out.

I got about halfway down the stairs before a screech startled me, causing me to trip a bit,

" (Y/N) IS HERE! YAY!" The high pitch British scream could only belong to the narcissistic ginger known as Matt.

Once I got my balance back into my feet, I continued down the stairs and greeted Matt with a wave.

" Yeah she lives here, idiot. She's not going anywhere." A deeper voice had spoken, I turned around and Tom was there as expected. I smile shrunk a bit at his last comment.

" Sup (y/n)." You snapped out of your thoughts and responded with a casual 'yo.'

The three of us then heard a thick accent cursing in the kitchen, no doubt it was Tord,

" For jævla skyld! Just let me have the last piece!!"

Sure enough, when we walked into the kitchen, Edd and Tord were fighting over the last piece of bacon. I let out a sigh, and the two boys finally acknowledged our existence. That alone didn't stop their argument though.

I didn't even bother attempting to break up the fight, I never could anyways. Their little fuss always ends one of two ways. Edd steals the bacon from under Tord's nose, or vise versa.

I just grabbed a small portion of food, and sat down.

I knew I would be gone by the end of tonight...but I wanted to taste Edd's cooking one last time.

Something interesting happened, instead of one of the two boys getting the bacon, they halved it and sat down. Of all my four years living in this house with these people, they've never shared their bacon.

Strange.

Dinner wasn't as talkative as it usually was when we all ate at the table. Usually we'd all have a big group discussion about our day, or week. Tonight was quiet, giving me an opportunity,

" Hey, guys?" Each one of their heads turned to me, and Edd signalled me to continue,

" I just wanted to say, thank you." Their brows furrowed but I held out a hand to tell them to let me finish,

" You four have helped me with so much over the past few years. From when you let me live here when I couldn't find proper housing situations, to letting me borrow the car. I just wanted to formally tell you all how grateful I really am. You are truly the kindest people I've ever met." As I went on talking, I realized how bad of an idea this actually was.

I mean, will they get suspicious? I'm just showing gratitude right? It shouldn't sound like a cry for help or anything...

As I snapped out of thought for the fiftieth time today, I notice that all of the boys have some type of smile on their face, even Tom!

Edd was smiling like a proud mother,

Matt was smiling giddily,

Tord had a smug, 'cool guy' smile,

And Tom had the smallest smile that made my heart melt.

I awkwardly continued my fake smile, and sat down.

Conversation continued on as would on a normal night, with the topic being past pleasant memories.

I volunteered to wash the dishes, it was the least I could do. There was only one problem. For some ungodly reason, Tom had insisted on helping me.

I couldn't figure out why at first, untill it dawned on me that he probably needed something from me.

So as I scrubbed the forgetten food off of the ceramic plate, he rinsed and dried them. We did this in silence, aside from the running water. Tom's the first one to break the tension filled silence,

" So, how have you been?" It was such a simple question, I could have simply faked a toothy grin, and said that I was great. I could have thanked him for asking. I could have asked him back.

But I only did one of those things.

" I've been doing just as good as I always do." I reply with a small sad smile. I tear my eyes away from the dish water," How about you? You've been awfully quiet tonight."

He chuckles lowly," Just had a lot on my mind, trying to face some of my problems, that's all." I stop what I'm doing and look over at him,

" Do you want to talk about it? I think the others are asleep already."

Normally when Tom is having any type of problem, he comes to me for advice, or even just for someone to listen to him rant when he's drunk. I even gave him a spare key to my room if he ever needs me while I'm asleep. He's offered the same for me, but I told him that I have a counselor. I try not to lie to my housemates all the time, only when necessary.

He simply shakes his head in response," Nah, this is one I have to deal with on my own," I sigh,

" Alright then, but keep my offer in mind. Just try to remember to see me before I go to bed, I'm...going to bed early tonight. I have something to do tommorow." He nods in understanding.

After we finish the dishes, we say our goodnights,

" I'll see you in the morning, (y/n)." I give one last fake smile,

" Same to you, Tom. Sleep well." I see him nod and walk down the hall as I close my door and lock it for the final time.

I walk into my bathroom and look into the mirror. All I see is a monstrosity of a person glaring back at me.

The bags under my eyes had only gotten worse after the sleepless nights I spent writing my suicide note.

I decided to skip reading over it one last time, I want nothing that could alter my decision at hand here. If I read my dying love letter that's written to Tom, I might stop myself in some kind of silly hope that everything could be okay again. It was too late for all that now.

So, I grabbed my blade that had served me well over the years, and stepped into the bathtub. I didn't cry, I didn't shake in fear of what I was about to do. I sadly smiled instead. As I took my hoodie off, revealing a tank top that no one knew I owned. I set my hoodie softly onto the floor, and turned on the hot water.

I took a deep breath in, and sigh, grabbing my blade and getting to work on my first artery. It took me a couple tries to find it.

But once I did, it started the red tint in the once clear bath water. I took in a shaky breath, adjusting to the dizziness of loosing so much blood so quickly.

At this point I couldn't even hear the bathwater running, everything was muffled.

I reached to turn it off, and a hand was placed onto mine. It takes me a good second to register that there was someone next to the tub, yelling my name right next to my face.

I try my best to focus on who could have caught me. Yet it's so difficult to take in my surroundings at this point.

So as I stare at the person beside my bathtub with fading eyes. I feel pressure on my wound, and see something being wrapped around it.

I start panicking, trying to say no, to let me die.

But I just can't. I just watch as my life is saved against my will.

Suddenly I can see that I'm moving, I can't figure out how until I notice the arms carrying me bridal style to a soft surface. That's when I lost consciousness for the next hour.

I didn't exactly 'wake up' more like fazed into existence. It's like I just gradually became aware of what was around me.

I became aware of the sobs coming from my bedside, and of the pressure squeezing my hand.

I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. Yet I instantly regretted my decision, pain shot throughout my body. I glance over to my hand and up the....purple arm....

Who is this? Or perhaps I should say, what is this?

It's some kind of...monster? Hybrid? It looked kind of human... I could only see the torso and up. Even then, the arms grew bigger the farther down the arms stretched, and turned a deeper and deeper shade of purple. Horns poked out of the head laying slightly onto my shin, poking me a bit.

" Am-" I hold my throat. That hurt. I clear my throat of the mucus and start again as the unknown monster wakes up,

" Am I dead?"

The monsters head shoots up, and I can't help but recognize the 'eyes' that I've grown to love.

" T-Tom..."

He tries to smile for me, but it twists into a sad frown as his black orbs start to water,

" (Y/n)....(y/n) you're...y-you're okay! You're okay..." He said this over and over again as he cupped my cheeks with his transformed hands.

I grab onto his forearm to steady his shaking. This was starting to scare me.

I had never seen this man shed a tear in front of me, yet alone bawl into my shoulder like he was doing now,

" Tom, it's okay, I'm right here." I whispered this, and many other reassurances into his ear. Confirming to him that it was going to be okay and that, to my displeasure, I wasn't going anywhere.

He seemed to get angry after a few minutes, he ripped himself away from me and took hold of my shoulders,

" WHAT IF YOU WEREN'T RIGHT HERE? WHAT IF I HADN'T OF WALKED IN!! WHAT THEN HUH? YOU WOULDN'T BE RIGHT HERE!!! YOU'D BE GONE!! I would have...lost you..." He slid down the side of my bed as he finished his outburst. He sat crying into his knees.

I didn't know what to do. Is he mad at me? But despite the questions, I acted without thinking.

I began to run my fingers through his hair, almost brushing it. He seemed surprised at first, before he leaned into my touch.

" I'm sorry Tom. I didn't think it would effect you like this..." All was silent for a few moments. Until,

" Why..?" He sniffled a few times before I could respond.

" Why? Why what?" He looked up to me,

" Why would you try to leave me?" I couldn't even bring myself to say anything after that. Tom seemed to sense the frog in my throat, and continued,

" You don't realize, (y/n). You don't realize how special you are. To your family, your friends. I mean bloody hell (y/n)! What about us?! Edd would be heartbroken! And how are we supposed to explain something like that to Matt?" I avoided the possible eye contact and twidled my thumbs in my lap,

" What about me (y/n)? How am I supposed to go on living with myself if you, the love of my life, killed herself?" My mind went blank. He took my hand in between both of his,

" I know this isn't the greatest time for this, but if it'll boost your self esteem even a little bit, I don't care about embarrassing myself. (Y/n) (L/n), I am deeply in love with you, and have been since you moved in. I've loved you since you helped me to bed when I came in drunk all those years ago. I've loved you since you beat my Pac-Man score at the arcade, I acted so mad, but you were just so cute so excited like that... (Y/n)... Please let me help you love yourself by loving you..."

By the time he was done with his speech, I was in tears, a small frown on my face. He seemed to get the wrong idea as he instantly dropped my hand and got up,

" I got the message, I'll just uhm... I'll just g-" I grabbed his hoodie strings and pulled him in for a kiss.

We could both tell that there would be many more to come.

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I'm sorry if it's extremely long, I just love to write angst haha...

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

Yixing sat at the kitchen table as the others finished up their breakfast. Minseok took the now empty plate that had belonged to Ji Yeon and rinsed it off in the sink, scrubbing away at the bits that had caked onto the white porcelain. Yixing continued to stare at the newspaper article. He’d read it so many times in the last fifteen minutes that surely he had it memorized by now. Worry pounded in his ears and not simply because of the rise in wolf-related deaths in the area. It had been his professor that was killed this time.

The same splitting headache that had been plaguing him for weeks now came back in full force. Dropping the paper, Yixing rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. It didn’t do any good.

“You okay?”

Yixing looked up at Baekhyun, who stood on the other side of the table. He smiled. “Of course. Given the circumstances. I’m just hoping I can catch up in this new class.”

“It sucks that it had to be one of your pre-med classes,” Baekhyun said, shaking his head.

“It’s terrible that it had to happen at all.”

“You know what I meant. We’re already worried enough about these attacks, but now you’re connected to one of the deaths. We’ll have to be extra careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

“Yixing isn’t the one we have to worry about.” Junmyeon said pointedly. Baekhyun feigned a wounded look. Snickers echoed around the room, except from Minseok’s mate, Ji Yeon. Her eyebrows were pinched tight with concern. And she had every right to be. Perhaps she should even be more worried than she already was.

The headache still throbbed behind Yixing’s eyes. Relief didn’t seem to be coming soon. He stood up from the table, excusing himself quietly as he left the kitchen for his bedroom to be alone.

“Yixing?”

He stopped a few steps up.

Ji Yeon stood just inside the short hallway, arms folded in front of her with the fingers tucked underneath. Yixing thought of her as a strong person, someone who stood as a good foundation for Minseok. He didn’t know her that well yet, but he already say her as the strong type, the sturdy kind.

“Yes?”

“You guys will catch this omega, right?” She glanced off to side, probably to check that Minseok hadn’t overheard her question. The eldest wolf was more than aware, Yixing was sure of it. The connection between a mate and their wolf was strong, indescribably so from the stories he’d heard. If he was honest, he was a bit jealous that Minseok was the first to be mated. The hope he had, however, was that she would not be the last. Once a pack started finding their other halves, it was a domino effect. His time would come, sooner or later.

Yixing mustered up a smile that he hoped came off as reassuring. “There’s nine of us and one of him. Eventually, we’ll find him.” Accepting that answer for the time being, Ji Yeon nodded and walked back into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, Yixing dropped the smile and swallowed thickly. He headed up the rest of the way to bedroom and shut the door.

Tense energy tingled through his feet as he sat on the edge of his bed. They were aching to move, to pace in hopes to work out the nerves, but he didn’t want to concern his brothers who would certainly hear it from the floor below. A run was out as well. As soon as any of the others got a whiff of someone shifting to wander through the woods, they jumped in to join. Only Minseok had the talent to get away clean.

Honestly, that was the least of his worries if he were to go running.

He wasn’t a killer. He wanted to help people. That was why he was studying medicine, why he wanted to be a doctor. But lately… These headaches were never ending, plaguing him over the last several weeks. And then there were the blackouts. Moments of time where he couldn’t remember what had happened. No one saw him during those times. Though he didn’t have to ask when he saw the pack after an episode. He was usually questioned where he had been himself. And he never had an answer. Not a truthful one.

No. This couldn’t have been him. There was another explanation for what was happening, both with the killings and with himself. It would just take time to figure it out.

Your fingers clenched tightly to the textbook against your chest. All morning you had been spending time at the library, reviewing last week’s vocabulary in an effort to distract yourself. Unfortunately, in a place like this with a wild animal running around killing people, escaping the whispers and rumors was not an option. It seemed that everyone was discussing the latest tragedy. And it made sense with how close it hit to the university.

“I hear her body was found in pieces.”

“I’m surprised they even found a body with all the animals that live in the woods.”

“Some of the hunters are talking about going out to kill the animal before it kills someone else.”

“No way. Did you see the pictures someone took of the paw prints in the dirt? That thing has to be huge. Like a bear.”

“There’s no way its as big as a bear.”

��I didn’t even know there were wolves in the forest.”

“What? Did you think it was all bunnies and squirrels?”

Unable to take it anymore, you’d slammed the textbook shut (gaining annoyed glares from those around you as if they weren’t the cause of your inability to utilize the library in the way it was meant to be used) and headed out. It was mystifying to you, the way others would talk about what was happening, like it was sports game or a thriller on TV.

Professor Xui was strict and stern, but she was also admired by the students. The “tough love” type. Though you personally had never been in any of her classes, you did know who she was, and you’d cried when you’d heard the news. Naturally, the university was on top of how to move forward. You’d groaned audibly when you’d read the email that the classes would be combining. Your human physiology class was already close to capacity. They had moved your session into one of the larger science rooms where freshman chemistry classes typically took place. Goodbye uncomfortable wooden desks, hello overly tall lab tables and bar stools with no back support.

You were one of the first to arrive at the lab, giving you the pick of the lot. One of the front tables was free so you settled there. You continued to clutch to the textbook that should have been opened to the page written on the white board in front of you. It was hard to let go. This thick, overpriced book wasn’t going to protect you from anything. And besides, you had no reason to be afraid. You didn’t go into the woods. You weren’t the kind to hike or camp or go near the trees for any reason. The flannel shirt you wore was simply because it was comfortable. You were absolutely fine.

Rolling your eyes at yourself and the silliness that was the track of your mind, you let go of the book and flipped to page thirty-four. Other students filed in as the seconds ticked closer to the allotted time. Professor Jiang, a short, salt and pepper-haired man with wired-framed glasses and a dad-level sense of humor, walked into the room with his old school briefcase, corners wearing thin and the metal on the push latches showing the brass base until the silver coating. The duet of the latches still made you jump even after fully expecting it.

“Good morning, everyone.” Professor Jiang adjusted his glasses. A nervous twitch he completed at the beginning of every class. All it took was five minutes into his lecture and he developed the steel nerves of an alligator wrestler. Pulling a pencil out from your bag, you barely paid attention to the rest of Jiang’s announcement. “I know it's difficult to process, but we’ll all get through this together. For the new students, I will be available for anyone who needs help adjusting to the new teaching style. And I- Oh. Hello.”

You looked up to see what the interruption was.

A late comer had entered the classroom, the door slowly closing behind him. Slim yet athletic, the newest student wasn’t overbearing or imposing, but he still captivated your attention, holding on to it as if his life depended on it. And he was staring right back at you with an intensity that matched your own. Mouth hanging open by the slightest of centimeters, he didn’t move or pay any attention to the professor or the other students staring at him. The muscles in his hand strongly gripped the strap of his backpack that hung off one shoulder. He was going to misalign his back if he kept doing that.

Professor Jiang cleared his throat pointedly, ending the staring contest. “New student?”

The new student blinked rapidly as he turned to the teacher. “Yes. Sorry. I got lost with the new room assignment.”

“One of Xui’s students?”

He nodded.

“That’s alright. We all need an adjustment period. Please, take a seat.”

You stiffened as Professor Jiang held his hand out in the direction of the empty seat right next to you. And that’s exactly where the new student sat. You forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead, concentrating a little too hard as Professor Jiang started his lecture of the circulatory system. But his words were drowned out by the shuffling beside you as the new student took out his textbook and other necessities for notes. You leaned forward, holding your neck up by your palm as you mentally repeated the highlights of the pulmonary circuit in order to be productive. The scratch of the pen against your notebook seemed louder today. Your heart seemed to be working in overtime as well. Was everything louder today? Or were you being overly sensitive to noise due to the current circumstances?

“Alright. Please, take a few minutes to go over the review questions located at the end of the section,” Professor Jiang said. It was almost a relief for his short lecture to be over. “Feel free to check with your partner at the table. To make things easier for all of us, the seats you chose today with be permanent for the rest of the semester and who you are seated with will be your constant collaborator.”

Oh, joy.

You were not the best at getting to know new people. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t think. The other person always wanted to start off with the weather or their job or some other subject that you found difficult to bounce off of to continue the conversation. It was like your mind wasn’t built for small talk. Somehow, you’d missed the installation of pre-programmed responses that everyone else carried around. You had a tendency to go a little too deep a little too quickly. Those were the conversations you wanted to have. Those were the kind that you found easy responses for. But people tended to find your passion about Rosalind Franklin and her forgotten contribution to science a little much.

“Hi.”

The cool voice that broke through your scrambled thoughts made you jump. You hit your knee against the lab table. Careful to hide it from view, you rubbed the sore spot to make the throbbing go away. Your new lab partner must have heard it given the shy smile that pushed up left corner of his mouth, revealing a deep dimple in his cheek. As much as you wished it wasn’t, your heart beating rapidly against your ribs.

For several seconds, you said nothing. No greeting back, no “I’m trying to focus on my work”, not anything. You were silent, staring back at him like he was walking around with a windmill on his head.

“I’m Yixing,” he continued in an effort to get you to speak.

Right. Conversations were two-way streets. “(y/n).”

His smile spread even wider. “It’s nice to meet you, (y/n).”

Words had apparently abandoned you today. All you could do was nod. He didn’t take it offensively. A small chuckle pushed passed the silence.

“Do you want to do the questions together?” he asked. “Or maybe when we’re both finished, we could compare what we got?” he suggested when you still didn’t answer.

“Compare,” you finally spat out. “I think it would be better if we compared. Afterwards, that is.” Not that you were usually the most articulate person, but this was becoming painful.

Yixing nodded. “Okay.” And with that he turned to his book, numbered the lines down on his paper and read over the questions. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your own station to do the same. Big mistake.

His natural scent hit you like a gust of wind on a previously calm day. You weren’t expecting the soft pine smell that he radiated. It wasn’t an overly musty, too-much-cologne type smell. It was subtle; the reason you didn’t catch on to it until this moment. Glancing over at you, Yixing frowned.

“You smell nice.” Oh, gosh, someone kidnap you now. Get you out of here in a fashion that would give reason as to why you didn’t come back. Did those words actually just leave your lips? Turning away from him, you reprimanded yourself for the slip up. Yixing laughed softly, making you turn to face him again.

“Thank you,” he said sweetly. “I appreciate the compliment. Especially since this building has a tendency to smell bad between the chemicals and dissections. I’m always worried that I’ll leave with some of it on me.”

You smiled at his joke. And that was where your thought train stopped. Instinct told you that an additional response was appropriate, but none came to you. You tried to rifle through the possibilities. Before you could find one, though, Yixing had turned his back down to his work.

With the awkward exchange over, you were able to make it through the five questions, writing down the answers with confidence.

“Do you want to compare?” Yixing asked as soon as you wrote the last word.

“Sure.” You slid your paper closer to the middle and shifted your body so you were partially facing him. One by one, you went over what each of you had gotten. Physiology of the human body was a strong suit of yours, more so than of your other science classes. That little bit of pride you had was perking up. It was ready to show off its penchant for knowledge. Unfortunately, this was not going to be one of those times for showing off. For the most part, you were evenly matched. Your answers were close, nearly identical in some parts.

“Professor Jiang might think we cheated,” Yixing teased.

“Well, he did say to collaborate with each other.” Good response. Appropriate response. You nearly patted yourself on the shoulder with that one. You even gave it the kind of tone that said you were merely teasing back.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“That concludes today’s class,” Professor Jiang announced. “As you leave, please stack your answer papers on the corner of the desk up here.” He patted the black top for emphasis. “Have a good day, everyone.”

Standing up, the sounds of stool legs scraping against the scuffed tile echoed through the large room behind you. Once your textbook was zipped up safely in your bag, you reached for the paper. Yixing swiped it up first.

“I’ll take it up there for you.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

You might not have been the only one blurting out thoughts before you stop them. A slight pink hue bloomed on Yixing’s cheeks. You were left there speechless as he hurried to the front, dropped off the papers, and left the classroom.

Dazed was an understatement. You didn’t know what to make of what had just happened. So, you ignored it. It was probably nothing anyway. Checking your watch, you calculated the amount of time you had until your afternoon sessions. There was a long break in between. The smart decision would be to hang out somewhere on campus to ensure that you actually went to your afternoon classes. But you needed quiet. Somewhere with no whispers about the woods or comments about the college’s new schedules. The only place you were guaranteed to find that was in your apartment. The building was a couple blocks away, a short walk no more than five minutes. You would have plenty of time to head there and back.

The front door was unlocked when you arrived. A bad habit from your roommate. She didn’t see the need to lock it if she was home and awake. You, on the other hand, clicked it tight and double checked it before stepping in deeper to the apartment.

Ran was sitting at the table, eating noodles and scrolling through a site on her laptop while her phone played a soft melody led by a pipa. It was a dreamy song, soft and comforting, like what your parents used to play for you after a nightmare.

Sighing to yourself, you sat down across from Ran and let your bag fall off your shoulder and to the floor. You hadn’t taken your computer with you, so the loud clump wasn’t one to panic over.

“How was class this morning with the new students?” Ran asked over the music.

The two of you weren’t extremely close. Friends, but not blood sisters. Ran had been your roommate freshman year and when you started talking about moving off campus, you’d offered her the other room to cut down on cost. She’d taken it rather than risk getting a new roommate that she didn’t like. You were similar some ways and vastly different in others. It balanced out, though, and you got along to the point where neither of you kicked up a fuss about cleaning the rooms or washing the dishes. You simply cleaned up after yourself. It was a co-habitation of convenience.

You shrugged. “It was fine. We’re all partnered up now, which is a little awkward, but I’ll survive, I guess.”

“Are they cute, at least?” Ran said with a smirk.

Yes. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying that much attention.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Reaching over to the stack of envelopes, Ran plucked the one off the top and handed it to you. “I picked up the mail this morning. Thought you might want to see what came for you.”

Your stomach whirled like it was in a tumble dryer. The envelope had a familiar red emblem of a brick clocktower stamped in the top left corner. With a shaky hand, you took the envelope and ripped open the top. The nicely folded letter slipped out easily. Your eyes scanned the black letters. When they finally sunk in, you slumped back in your chair with a sigh.

“Oh, no.” Ran frowned. “They didn’t reject you, did they?”

You shook your head. “No, not out right. They want to see how well I do this semester before giving a final decision.”

“Well, that’s not too bad. It’s not a no.”

“It’s not a guaranteed yes either.”

Closing her laptop, Ran crossed her arms. Her lips were pursed, eyes down on the table. “You could just stay here. I mean, they have a pretty good medical program and you said that this was where your parents had met-”

“I don’t want to stay here,” you stated firmly. “There’s no reason to.”

“Your aunt is close by.”

“She wants me to do what I want. If that means going to medical school far away, then so be it. I’ll stay in touch with her. Visit when I can.”

“Well, I hope you get in.” Ran stood up and stretched. “On a brighter note, Hae In and I are going out tonight if you want to join us.”

You shook your head. “I’m good. Thanks for the invite, though. I appreciate it.” Whenever Ran and Hae In went out, things tended to get a little crazy. You were sure they had fun and they always came home safe. You just didn’t think that it would your kind of scene. She left a few minutes later and you were finally granted that peace and quite you had been searching for. Well, the quiet, at least.

Peace was nowhere to be found. Stress was rearing its ugly head as you stared at the letter. Ran was right, it was wasn’t a flat rejection. They were, at minimum, interested in giving you a chance. As one of the most prestigious medical universities in the country, you were eager to walk their halls.

The fact that it was far away from any reminders of your life was the bigger incentive. Releasing all the air your lungs were holding on to, you folded the letter back up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your bag. All you had to do was make it through this semester with no hiccups and you would be fine.

Shouldn’t be too hard. There was no reason for any of your plans to be derailed or for you to change your mind.

As long as you survived the next few months, that is.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #exo werewolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo college au #exo college!au #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

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lovelyirony · 4 years

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oh my GOD mechanicfam is god tier just may i present an au where tony adopts harley after his mom and sister die in a car crash (post-mandarin) and so tony's the only person harley knows to go to and harley's the thing that makes rhodey and tony get their HEADS out of their ASSES

Harley keeps the business card that was left on the workshop of his house. He kept it in a kitchen drawer that his mom never used, because it full of the “nice” dish towels that were only taken out come Christmastime.

His fingers shake as he grips the phone, punching in the numbers.

“Can I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s...um. Harley. Keener. From Tennessee.”

There’s a shift on the phone, and Harley feels a bit guilty because it is late, but he doesn’t know where else to turn.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Um. I need help.”

“With what?”

And that’s when Harley loses it. He can barely enunciate the words, and he’s trying to furiously wipe away tears as he hears a litany of curses over the other line.

“I’m...I’m sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and I don’t know what to do, and-”

“Kid, don’t you worry. I’ll be there in...two hours. Hell, maybe one if I can break the sound barrier. You have anything to eat yet?”

“Um, no?”

“Okay, then we stop for food when we get home.”

“Home?”

“...we’ll talk when I get there.”

Tony, in all honesty, does not know what he’s doing. God knows he had two stellar examples of parenting from Howard and Maria.

But he knows that a kid like Harley will get torn apart, and he...he can’t let him do that.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhodey asks.

“Yes,” Tony says. “I’m sure. We’ll...I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

“You act like I’m not going to help you,” Rhodey says. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back. You have a way of transporting him back?”

“Already ordered a car to the airport, we’ll be taking a plane back home.”

“Bring him back safe.”

“Always.”

Harley collapses into Tony’s arms when he touches down, armor barely off.

“Please,” he sobs. “Please just get me out of here.”

Tony wasn’t going into the situation blind. He had seen the article from their newspaper about the crash.

Harley said he had been riding his bike. Abbie really wanted to get a burger, and he hadn’t wanted to go.

“They would still be here if I had gone,” Harley says bitterly, and Tony’s heart has a pang of hurt because he understands that feeling all too well. But right now, Harley doesn’t need someone to understand everything, he just needs to be cared for.

Tony sits down with him at a kitchen table and doesn’t miss how Harley stares at the two chairs across from them.

“I want to talk with you,” he says quietly. “I want to know what you want to do.”

Harley looks at him.

“I...I wasn’t really expecting you to come.”

“We’re connected,” Tony says, a soft smile on his face. “I always will, whenever you want. Now, I’m just here to help you figure out what you want.”

“...what are the options?”

Tony’s willing to go through hell and back for this kid. He doesn’t tell him this verbatim, but the sentiment is there. He’d be willing to do anything, so long as he could see Harley safe and happy wherever he was.

Harley sits outside for a moment, breathing.

And then he can’t breathe.

Abbie’s looking up at the night sky, smiling.

“It’ll always be like this, right Harls?”

“Right,” Harley says, smiling nice and easy. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to us.”

Except he did.

It was all over the news, and everyone knew about it.

He comes back in, and Tony can probably tell that he’s at his absolute worst.

“I can’t stay here. I-I need to leave. Now.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

Driving in the car is a mostly silent affair. Tony hums along to AC/DC and tells Harley about new projects.

Their first rest stop, Tony goes out with Harley, watching him carefully.

“I’m not gonna break,” Harley snaps.

“Not saying you’re gonna.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Okay. Rhodey’s at the house waiting for us when we get there.”

“He on leave?”

Tony nods. “Three months. Lucky.”

“Yeah.”

Not a lot after that.

At some point, Harley dozes off, leaning his head against the door.

Tony sends a message to Rhodey when they’re boarding the plane. Harley’s still a little groggy, and mostly content to just blearily go and find a seat and pass out.

He sleeps the whole flight home, and Tony is left with his thoughts.

Thought One: Maybe he Should’ve Left This Alone.

Thought Two: He needs to answer Pepper’s email regarding the press conferences and publicity things, get that all worked out.

Thought Three: He hopes Rhodey has some sort of food ready.

Rhodey sees Tony and Harley stumbling in, and he’s struck for a moment by just how similarly they carry themselves, how Harley’s eyes dart around like Tony’s did when he first moved into their dorm.

“Hi,” Rhodey says. “You hungry?”

“Um.”

“We’ll sit down anyways,” Tony says. “Planes are the worst, Harley. They zap all your energy no matter how long you sit on your ass.”

Rhodey sends Tony a look that says “you should probably watch your language.”

Tony sends back a look that says “now’s not the time to discuss my behaviors.”

Harley sleeps.

He’s surprised he does, because he wakes up about nine hours later, and he feels like he doesn’t deserve this long of sleep. He gets slammed with the current news of his life all over again, and his lips tremble as he gets out of a bed that he thinks is too nice for him, and stares into a mirror.

“Mr. Keener?”

Harley jumps.

“...is that you, Jarvis?”

“It is indeed, Mr. Keener. An honor to make your acquaintance, Sir has told me so much about you.”

“Please tell me he didn’t tell you about the potato gun.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

Harley grins up at where the voice emanates.

“Your presence is required for breakfast, if that is alright.”

“That’s...that’s fine.”

He’s not hungry, but Rhodey slides him a plate of toast and eggs.

“Try to eat as much as you can,” he says. “Tony can finish off the rest, if he ever comes down from his bed.”

Harley nods, nibbling on the toast.

“You want jam or anything? We have grape, and...only grape. This peach looks questionable.”

Harley snorts.

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“No problem.”

They eat in awkward but companionable silence, and finally Harley speaks.

“Tony said you’re on leave for three months.”

“I got lucky,” Rhodey says, grinning. “I get to stay here with you guys for longer than three weeks. A full guarantee, unless of aliens.”

“They’re that much of a concern?” Harley asks, eyebrows raised.

“Only at high levels,” Rhodey says, giving him a lazy wink. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

“If anything, you would hear it from me,” Tony says, wrapped up in a gaudily-patterned robe. “Hello dearest, hello little one.”

“I’m not little,” Harley grumbles.

“You are shorter than me, you are little.”

“For now. Doc said I’m supposed to be over six feet.”

“Hm, we’ll see,” Tony says. “But enough about that. We have to have a little chat.”

Harley’s heart leaps with anxiety. When adults talk about having a chat, or talking, it’s...well. It’s never a walk in the park. Or a jog for that matter, either.

“What about?”

“How we can help you.”

Harley sighs, burrowing deep in his seat.

“We have to talk about this?”

“Yeah, we do.”

Harley gets set up with a therapist who he’s not sure he likes yet, but so far she’s been pretty nice. A bit of a mess, because she comes into their second session late and with iced coffee.

“Oh shit, I should’ve asked you if you wanted something,” Joan says, fretting. “Um, hi Harley. How are we doing?”

“Um, fine? I guess? For someone who’s dealing with a lot of change?”

“Oh, that’s great to hear. Do you mind...?” She breathes for a minute. “There was a really cute girl in the elevator for the dentist office above me, and I had to avoid her so that I wouldn’t talk about things and ruin things, so I took the stairs. Do you mind if I just drink my coffee for a moment?”

“...knock yourself out.”

So they sit there for a few moments, while Joan catches her breath and Harley wonders if he can text her his coffee order later.

“Alright, let’s talk you, Harley.”

Therapy goes well. As well as it can go, honestly.

And Harley? Well, he settles.

And he notices things.

Rhodey is still with them, two months and three weeks in. This is his last week, and Tony is miserable although he won’t say anything.

Harley notices how Tony will automatically move closer to Rhodey, and Rhodey welcomes him into his space as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They bicker at each other, but Rhodey slides scrambled eggs onto Tony’s plate as he argues, and Tony leans over and grabs the coffee mug that Rhodey favors.

Apparently, they’re not together.

This leaves Harley very confused.

Tony gets all flustered and in denial when he asks about it.

“Why would...why would he...why would he be with me?” Tony asks, moving around the kitchen. “He has more to life than that. Now come on, get your shopping list together, kiddo. I’m not gonna hear you complain for another week that we didn’t get your pumpkin-carving-coffee-creamer-whatever.”

“It’s pumpkin spice, and you would know that because you pretend like you don’t use it.”

“We’ll get two bottles this time,” Rhodey says, only coming in on the tail-end of the conversation. “Tony, babe, remember to get the provolone slices when we’re there for the deli sandwiches.”

“Got it, honey.”

Harley stares.

They’re so...domestic.

Harley hasn’t seen that often. Certainly didn’t see it with his parents before his dad left, and his mother...she didn’t get to have that with anyone else afterwards. And his sister, oh god-

“Kiddo, you okay?” Rhodey asks. His hand is on Harley’s shoulder, eyes full of concern. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Just...just thinking about my mom. And my sister.”

Rhodey brings him into a hug.

Harley breathes in and out for a moment, absorbing the clean smell of Rhodey’s shirt and focusing on the touch.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be fine. Let’s go, before Tony gets to choose the car and we have to fit fifteen bags into a Maserati.”

“Then we’ll have to leave you at the store,” Rhodey teases. “Let’s see if we can get a rational car.”

Grocery shopping is...it’s nice. It’s one of Harley’s favorite things to do, as boring and uninteresting as that may be.

He mostly just likes watching Tony and Rhodey do it. It’s entertainment, and they’re so practiced together.

Harley isn’t sure if his mom and his sister are still looking on, but he always gets their favorite snacks, just in case. He puts a bag of hot fries and a carton of strawberries into the cart, and then he grins as he finds Tony and Rhodey still arguing over whether or not they should get two bundles of green onions for the Wednesday dinner or not.

“Come on dad,” Harley says, throwing the extra bundle into the cart. “It’ll be good, and we can probably make some sort of soup garnish for the end.”

He moves the cart, and he doesn’t even see how Tony and Rhodey stare after him.

“So obviously, I’m dad,” Tony says. “That’s me.”

“Or is it?” Rhodey asks, faking suspicion. “We don’t know until a full investigation is launched.”

“Oh full investigation my ass,” Tony says. “Come on, before he leaves us in the dust and ends up getting far too many packages of candy.”

“Like you minded, heathen.”

Tony pushes off the grocery cart, and Rhodey has to smile for a moment.

He’s going to miss this. He only has a few days left, and then he’s back and he’s alone, and he’s not alone, but he...

Rhodey always misses Tony. He’s tried to convince himself over the years that it’s just what best friends do, but he doesn’t think that best friends think of each other in the way that he thinks of Tony.

And now there’s Harley.

Harley, who is so much like Tony, and so good. He smiles, and he jokes, and Rhodey now can’t imagine life without him.

He doesn’t want to miss out on a thing, honestly. They’ve already joked about teaching him to drive in New York traffic.

And he wants to come home. He has his own place in New York, honest to god doesn’t know why he pays rent on it since Tony usually has him stay over anyways. He should sub-let or rent it or sell it. That’d be common sense.

Dinner goes well. Both Rhodey and Harley have a good rhythm in the kitchen, even with Harley’s questionable music taste and Rhodey’s inability to follow a recipe.

“People who follow recipes are chumps,” Rhodey says, dumping more garlic powder into the mixture. “Never follow a recipe.”

“We can call your mother and ask about the blueberry crumble incident of 1997,” Tony says innocently. “If you want to rehash how well that advice went for you. I recall a nearly-burned-down-house?”

Rhodey scowls, turning to Harley.

“Don’t listen to a word this man has ever said, he is an unlovable scamp.”

“Oh really?” Harley says. “Seems to suit you just fine, right?”

Rhodey momentarily pauses, and then grins.

“I suppose you’re right.”

All too right.

They eat dinner, and Tony as well as Rhodey make no mention of what’s going to happen come Saturday morning.

At least, until Harley does, because Harley does things like ask questions.

“So. When are you going for your next mission?” Harley asks. “And where?”

“Classified, and seven a.m. bright and early Saturday morning,” Rhodey states. “You gonna get out of bed in time to see me off?”

“Mm, we’ll think about it,” Tony says, biting into the pasta. “The beds are awfully comfy...”

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey whines. “Just for that, I get to choose the movie, and I’m choosing the not-movie. I’m choosing the BBC Pride and Prejudice.”

“You suck,” Tony groans. “If you weren’t a gorgeous man, I would have kicked you out decades earlier.”

“You make us sound ancient.”

“That’s because you two geezers are,” Harley says, taking his dish to the sink. “Come on, I totally dibs on getting the mint candies.”

“Absolutely not, you stole them all last, at least let us portion them out,” Tony says.

“Do we not live as a family? Can we no longer share things?” Harley cries out dramatically, draping his body across the couch. “Am I reduced to nothing but a pretty face?”

“I don’t know where you get your dramatics from,” Rhodey deadpans. “Truly, I don’t.”

Harley pokes his tongue out, and gestures for them to come over.

“We can wash dishes later, we need to see if Mr. Darcy comes back,” Harley says.

“You know he does,” Tony says, looking over at Rhodey. “He always will.”

It means...something. They’re not sure what, and they’re not going to ask each other while Harley is busy commandeering the couch and wiggling his way into getting the best blanket.

Tony on one side, Rhodey on the other, although the latter is busy popping popcorn and thinking.

He doesn’t even really want to go. He signed up for this tour, and he wasn’t honestly thinking it was going to be his last, but with Harley now, and with how life is going...would it be a bad thing?

Tony’s always wanted him to do at least consulting work for SI, and he could semi-retire comfortably...

“Honey-darling!” Tony calls, “the ETA on popcorn? I’m getting desperate!”

Harley sends Tony a sneaky look, and looks back towards the movie.

“You should remind Rhodey to get chocolate chips,” Harley says. “You know he likes them.”

“Of course I know that, how do you know that?”

“You usually get the popcorn,” Harley says with a shrug. “I know what you know about him. And you know a lot, don’t you?”

“I...I suppose,” Tony says, getting up.

Harley settles into his spot on the couch.

Tony comes up to Rhodey.

“Remember your chocolate chips,” Tony says.

Rhodey looks surprised.

“I thought you hated how sticky they got your hands.”

“That’s what napkins were invented for,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve been dealing with your chocolate chips for years, haven’t I?”

“I guess,” Rhodey says. “Just like I’ve been dealing with the fact that you pretend like you don’t like it, but you steal all of it.”

“Lies and slander, dearest,” Tony says, and Rhodey grins smoothly.

“Get back to the kid, sweetheart. I’ll be there when all of this is done.”

And it sounds so goddamned domestic. As if it’s real, as if they’ve been doing this song and dance for years. And they have, but it’s never been...

It’s never been real. Sure, they’ve waited on each other when Rhodey leaves or Tony travels, and they fall in together in a nice and easy rhythm.

But Tony...he’s a Stark. He needs a good reputation, and while most wouldn’t say his reputation is exactly good, there’s a lot that the public can forgive. Rhodey is not part of that.

Tony thinks that Rhodey deserves someone better. He knows it, knows it in the way that Rhodey smiles and it’s the best damned thing he’s ever seen, knows it in the way how his eyes track people who need help the most.

Harley knows virtually none of this. The only thing he knows is that his guardians are the stupidest people on the planet, and now he has a side project besides school and by god it’ll be fun.

But first, Rhodey is being sent off. Tony’s hands are wandering all over the place, as Harley’s noticed they do when he’s nervous. His do the same. Tony is talking about everything and joking about changes, and Rhodey smiles and nods and they both know what is going to happen.

Harley, for his part, mostly just tries not to doze off because it’s too early for any of this but also he wants to remember this.

Rhodey will be gone for one month and three weeks. According to Tony, this isn’t the longest he’s ever been away, but usually he’s not gone for this long. The older he gets, the shorter the missions or projects get. But they need his expertise with rookies.

Tony, for his part, has packed about three extra bags for Rhodey under the guise of them being “goodie bags” or the army to peruse after Rhodey.

“I won’t need all of these fancy pieces,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not even leaving the US this time, cupcake.”

“You saying you can’t be in danger when you’re here?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Take the stuff dad,” Harley says exasperated.

“Ha!” Rhodey teases. “So I’m dad!”

“You both are,” Harley says. “You’re both dad.”

They grin at each other, at least until Tony furrows his brow.

“Then how will we know which one you’re talking to?”

“I’ll come up with a different name then,” Harley says. “I don’t know. Let’s not talk about this while you’re supposed to be boarding a jet.”

Rhodey shrugs, leaning in for a hug from Harley, and facing Tony. There’s something in his eyes.

“Stay safe,” Tony says. “Promise me that.”

“I don’t make promises,” Rhodey says, a smile playing at his lips.

“For anyone else,” Tony finishes, grinning. He brings him into a hug, probably holding on for a touch longer than necessary. But he’s leaving, so you can’t fault him for it.

Harley is smiling to himself as Rhodey whispers something in Tony’s ear, which causes him to widen his eyes in delight.

“Seriously? You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

Tony cheers for a moment, before they hear a shout across the tarmac. Rhodey gives a lazy salute.

“Until one month and three weeks.”

“Until then, nerd,” Harley shouts.

Tony blows a kiss, and Rhodey “catches” it and puts it in his pocket.

Harley sends Tony a look as they’re driving home.

“So. What did Rhodey whisper in your ear?”

“He’s going to move in,” Tony says, grinning.

“He doesn’t actually live at our home?” Harley asks, absolutely flabbergasted. “There’s no fucking way-”

“Language!”

“You said ‘shit’ during breakfast, if anything this is just leveling the playing field-”

“Don’t care, you’re a small child. What would the public say if they knew I was teaching my boy curse words?” Tony says dramatically.

“They’d probably not be surprised,” Harley answers. “Didn’t you tell the paparazzi to ‘get fucked’ when they ambushed our dinner last month?”

“Not the point.”

“Or is it?”

“You’re detracting from the fact that you get to help me get rid of all of Rhodey’s ugly furniture in his apartment.”

“Seriously?” Harley whines. “No, I’m...doing something.”

“Doing what? Eating hot fries on my couch and getting it stained with spicy cheese dust?”

“...no.”

“Hm, thought so. You’re coming with me.”

Rhodey isn’t expecting to miss home as fiercely as he does this time around. He’s irritable, but he finds comfort in talking with some of the other members of the crew about kids.

“Didn’t know you had a kid,” Hicks mentions. “When did that happen?”

“About six months ago,” Rhodey answers. “Kid needed a guardian, Tony stepped up to the plate. He’s a real neat kid, really a genius. Just like Tony, in that way.”

“You live with Tony, finally?” Thompson asks. “Or do you still have that dinky bachelor pad?”

“I’m selling it,” Rhodey said. “I told Tony I’d help out with Harley, and that’s what I’m doing. Figure since I’m always over there anyways, might as well move in.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t move in sooner, what with you and Stark anyways,” Thompson remarks.

“What do you mean?” Rhodey asks.

“You’re...not together?”

Rhodey looks away, a bit sheepish.

“Uh...no. We’re not.”

“But you wanna be,” Owens teases from her corner, eating her sandwich. “You stupid lover-boy.”

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey fires back. “As if you aren’t all over your husband when you get back.”

“But I, my dear old man, am married,” Owens says. “Put a ring on it! God knows you should’ve, like, eight years ago. Have you even asked him on a date?”

“He has other options, and a life outside of me,” Rhodey says.

“Bullshit,” the team crows, laughing. Rhodey just shakes his head, and bites into his sandwich.

He misses them.

Harley and Tony miss him equally as much. Tony is down in the dumps, sulking in his lab while Harley attempts to rebuild a projectile weapon.

“Do you have a permit for that?”

“Do I need one?” Harley asks. “I’m not gonna take it anywhere, except maybe when I’m in trouble.”

“When will you be in trouble?”

“...you’ll know.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to be on national news.”

“Just on regional, don’t worry.”

Tony sighs.

“Rhodey is going to want to witness that, so can you wait?”

“...potentially.”

Rhodey gets letters from the two of them. He thinks it’s Harley’s idea: after all, Tony would simply just hijack the internet feed and yell at people until Rhodey was called for.

He gets two pages from Tony with his elegant writing, the writing that almost never comes out because he remembers that Tony was taught how to write in blocky, all-caps letters that he was fond of now.

Harley writes in chicken-scratch that is barely legible, although he mentions that he’s been learning about lettering from Tony.

Tony misses you a lot, by the way, Harley writes, he’s been playing all of your favorite songs, and I didn’t know that you liked Three Dog Night. Interesting.

It’s not surprising that Tony knows and plays his music, not really. But Rhodey is still pleasantly surprised that even when he isn’t physically present, Tony keeps a piece of him around.

Similarly, Tony writes about Harley.

The kid misses you, honey. He’s been compiling a list of things he wants to do when you get back. You’re better at hugging him, by the way. Today (well, Wednesday for you) we had a good cry session. Wish you were there, but we made do with what we had. Why did you take your sweatshirt, by the way? Stupid man, now I can’t wear it and drape myself across couches like a scorned widow. Honestly...

Rhodey comes back on a Tuesday morning. Harley’s allowed to miss school for it, which he’s very happy about.

“That doesn’t mean you get to sleep in,” Tony says. “We’re picking him up at eight.”

“Why must I be punished for all time,” Harley moans. “Eight? Seriously? Doesn’t the army know that noon exists?”

“They made up the early rule because of me,” Tony jokes. “But I promise that Rhodey will most likely want an actual breakfast, which means we get diner breakfast.”

“Yes!” Harley says, pumping his fist. “Waking up early just became worth it.”

“Yeah sure, just look at the emails your teachers sent you about missing homework and be sure to text Peter and Ned about the classes you missed,” Tony says.

Harley nods, walking out of the kitchen before pausing and turning back.

“You should wear that Black Sabbath shirt that Rhodey likes tomorrow,” he says. “It’ll be nice for him to see.”

Tony raises an eyebrow.

“And since when did you know what Rhodey likes to see?”

“Since I was born with vision,” Harley deadpans. “He always picks that shirt out for you when you come back after a business meeting overseas.”

Waking up at eight a.m. is worth it for a hug from Rhodey. Honest to god, that man gives the best hugs Harley’s ever had, short of Abbie and mom.

Tony is asking a million questions a minute, and then telling Rhodey about the results of the apartment. A Stark Industries employee is renting it, and Tony managed to save some of the mugs, and chastised Rhodey for stealing a colander, apparently.

“It was our good one! Why did you leave it in your apartment?”

“I thought I stored it where we put the pans!” Rhodey defended. “How was I supposed to know that it was at that apartment?”

“Quit arguing and start moving,” Harley says. “We have breakfast to get to.”

“Our boy is growing,” Tony says, sighing. “Soon he’ll eat us out of house and home.”

“We live in a gigantic tower in New York, I think you’re gonna be fine,” Rhodey says. “Although let’s get on it before there’s too much of a wait.”

“It’s a Tuesday, darling,” Tony says. “No wait. And they know us.”

Harley enjoys witnessing breakfast. Basically because Tony and Rhodey fall into their respective rhythms as if no one had ever left. Rhodey is fighting about the hash browns, and Tony is reaching all the way across the table for the hot sauce.

Harley has honestly and truly missed them all together like this.

Even if Rhodey nabs a sausage from his plate.

“I’m the growing teen here!” Harley says, gesturing with his fork. “Why steal from your poor, innocent charge? Was it not enough to leave for a month and three weeks?”

“And three weeks! Honestly honey,” Tony says, distracting Harley enough to steal the other sausage off of his plate. “You should’ve been here sooner, we could’ve eaten more of these!”

“You both are criminals,” Harley says. “Criminals who I have to live with. This is unforgivable. I’ll waste away into nothing...”

Rhodey laughs, and he catches Tony’s eyes.

Yeah. It’s good to be back.

Living with Tony and Harley isn’t really an adjustment at all. Rhodey had barely used his apartment before, and now is no different. He just gets to decorate his room a little bit more, and contribute more to groceries.

He’s also around for more of Harley which is...interesting.

The kid knows something, that’s for sure.

He is also sneakily good at making sure that Tony and Rhodey get alone time, whether that be last-minute-ditching plans with Pepper or “forgetting” that he was supposed to be going to Ned’s for a video-game championship. (Harley was good at lying, but Tony and Rhodey have had years of practice.)

Rhodey has a sneaking suspicion that he knows why.

Harley isn’t a stupid boy, not by a long shot.

He’s caught on to Rhodey’s stares, the way that Tony and Rhodey have something, but neither really want to acknowledge.

To acknowledge means to know, and knowing is something that is far more terrifying than most people give it credit.

Harley eventually has help.

After all, he and Pepper didn’t just go their separate ways when he ditched his guardians to give them quality dates, and he didn’t just talk about video game strategy with Peter, Ned, and MJ.

He was planning. Figured it would fit with a life plan, honestly.

Pepper is quite potentially even more tired than he is, and has agreed to help set up a nice date.

She’s made deals she never expected to.

She owes the god of mischief a bottle of wine. It’s ridiculous.

Peter and Ned have been elected with getting the “aesthetic” right, and MJ has been “helpfully” suggesting where lights go.

“MJ, if I move them any more left they’ll fall off the building and become a hazard,” Harley grunts.

“Exactly. Nothing says romance like dangerous situations,” she says with a shrug. “But put them in the tree, and we can link the extension cord behind. It’ll look nice. All Pinterest-y and shit.”

“Why can’t you help and then joke?”

“I never joke. You just always like my second plan better.”

“I don’t know whether to be terrified or alarmed!” Peter calls from his spot of building the cheese-board.

“They’re synonyms,” MJ says. “When are we going home, by the way?”

“As soon as Rhodey finishes up with his afternoon run, and Tony realizes that dinner is still a social concept,” Harley says.

“Time, then?”

“...five-thirty.”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll call my mom about the pizza,” Ned says. “We still thinking one pepperoni and one veggie?”

“Sounds great,” Peter says. “What movie are we watching tonight?”

“Twitter polls said Clueless over the Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet. Sorry Ned, looks like your choice will be next week.”

“My heart hurts, but it understands,” Ned says sagely, placing a hand over his heart. “I will see Mercutio soon enough.”

Tony was not aware that their rooftop had lights. He doesn’t remember putting them there.

He was also pretty sure that Harley had a question about the flight patterns of birds in relation to GPS technology in drones, and it was weird that it was outside, but-

There’s a cheese-board. And now he gets why Pepper made him change shirts. He knew that his shirt wasn’t ugly!

Rhodey is standing across the way, looking at the dinner set-up and the tealights flickering gently from their placement.

“Is this...did you do this, Tony?”

“I don’t have this much of a creative eye,” Tony says, eyeing the intimate table placement. “Maybe Pepper?”

“She doesn’t do lights...”

“Harley,” they both say in unison, laughing.

There’s a note at the table, written in the same near-illegible handwriting:

Either get together or I get to make a Twitter thread. Your call.

Tony snorts as he looks at the placement of everything.

“Well...it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.”

“Is that you saying you’re flattered, but no thanks?” Rhodey asks.

“No,” Tony says, looking at Rhodey. “It’s not that at all, if you-”

“You mean-?”

“What? Is this what’s happening?” Tony asks. His breathing speeds up. He’s quite embarrassed that he can feel his cheeks turn red. He thought he got rid of blushing in ‘96.

“I...damn it, Tony. I love you!”

Tony stares. He just stares, and for a moment it doesn’t process, until it does. He flings himself into Rhodey’s arms, and laughs.

“Holy shit, that’s a relief.”

Rhodey spins him around, taking a brief moment to kiss him gently on the cheek.

“Oh, you owe me more than that, soldier.”

“I think I’m a little bit higher ranked than that.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“Boyfriend, for one.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“We’re, like, a minute into this and you’re already the cheesy one.”

“Well one of us has to be, and I’m going to beat you to the punch.”

Harley gets one text at four in the morning from Rhodey:

no twitter thread for us. and you need to figure out what to call tony because i’m claiming “dad.”

Harley cackles, grinning.

got it, he’ll be pops then.

Tony texts Harley a minute later.

if you call me ‘pops’ there will be a mutiny! a mutiny!!

Harley laughs again, tapping a message back.

wotever.

Tony doesn’t respond, choosing instead to roll back over and sling an arm around his significant other. It’s too early to be nitpicking your kid’s grammar.

#lovelyirony writes #tony stark #harley keener #ironhusbands #rhodey #war machine #iron man #harley #pepper potts #mj watson #ned leeds #peter parker #anyways!!! yeah #death tw #tony and rhodye are STUPID. STUPID STUPID STUPID.#luckily harley has decided it's going to be his side proejct to get his two guardians together

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