#something about being quarantined in my bedroom for five days straight brought me straight back to being 17 in 2020. in an extremely bad way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

all-things-fic · 4 years

Text

Stay Still

A/N: Welcome to another day in quarantine. Here’s part two of Quarantine Harry which I wasn’t expecting to happen, to be honest with you all. Hopefully it lives up to any expectations. As always, stay safe and let me know what you think! Loads of love to you all.

Shout out as always to people I have pestered with this one. @waitingfortwilight for always being the ultimate babe, @harryfeatgaga for being hype woman of the century, @huccimermaidshirts for telling it to me how it is and @haute-romance-quotidienne for fuelling fantasy and possibly making it so we could get a part three!

Enjoy everyone! .x

***

You frowned softly at the intrusion of the morning light against your eyelids. The sound of a soft whistle hit your ears as you slowly roused for another day in quarantine. The sound of the bathroom tap shutting off brought a sense of stillness after Harry had brushed his teeth and washed his hands.

Keeping your eyes closed you heard the way Harry tip-toed around your bedroom, his feet heavy against the flooring regardless of how much he tried to overcompensate in trying to be as quiet as possible.

A small smile pulled at your lips as you imagined him acting like some drunken teenager trying not to wake his parents as he entered the house after a night out; worse for wear and not interested in being read the riot act for not sensibly drinking.

The sheets next to your feet felt heavier than usual, before suddenly becoming lighter again. You heard the rustle of clothing, followed by a light grunt from Harry as he got dressed at the end of your bed.

Head pushed through the neck of his hoodie, Harry fixed the hood on the clothing item before walking the short distance to the drawers that housed his undergarments and socks.

The sound of the wood sliding against the draw hinges caused you to cringe, before you bit away your smile as he whispered ‘shit, shit, shit’ quickly in succession due to how unsuccessful he was in not being noisy.

Turning around, Harry saw the way the sheets moved, the up and down of your shoulders letting him know you were laughing at the awful job he was doing.

“‘S that you laughing at me over there?”

Harry’s deep morning voice broke through the sleep-filled silence. He stood, still at the end of the bed, looking down the length of your body and willing you to pop your head up to look at him.

“Can see your shoulders moving under the sheets y’know?”

Still hidden by a mound of sheets and luxurious duvet, he heard your less than impressed response. “You’re so shit at being quiet.”

“Who even said that ‘m trying,” he scoffed, trying to pass off his clumsiness as something he had planned, letting his feet take him over to the other side of your bed. To his side.

You felt the familiar dip to the bed, and as he sat down you rolled over to your opposite side to be greeted with the expanse of his back. A soft groan left Harry’s lips as he leaned down to pull on his socks, you guessed his socks simply from the way you heard the band snap against his calves.

When he sat back up straight, you watched as he stretched up and rolled his neck to the side, left and right.

You weren’t prepared for his stare when he turned his head quickly to his right, looking over his shoulder at you. God, he was so frustratingly handsome.

Over the last couple of days, you’d watched Harry relax in a way that you’d yet to completely get to enjoy. His hair had grown to a length that had your fingers itching to braid at the locks sitting at the top of his head, his facial hair becoming darker, the thicker it got with each passing day that was crossed off on the kitchen calendar.

And his body. Where did you begin?

He had confessed to you a couple of nights ago he was considering getting a lock for the fridge. The two of you for some unknown reason falling into a fit of giggles after he’d said it as you lay along the couch together.

It was something to do with the desperation in his voice when he’d confessed his lack of self control. The rant he’d gone on about how much bread he was eating and how he knew he was ‘just being a greedy bastard’ but he couldn’t help it.

The thing was, he was working out with it too. You knew that simply because you’d spent far too many hours of the day telling him to ‘shift these bloody weights’ as you stubbed your toe for the fifth time in the space of a week.

He definitely was putting you to shame.

Quarantine really was working out for him. His thighs spoke for themselves, and you were sure one day he was going to split the shorts he appeared to be pouring himself into each morning to either do a weights or HIIT session in the middle of the lounge, or the garden if he fancied a change in setting.

The only thing you had found yourself lifting had been the fork that housed carb after carb. Pasta and potatoes mainly.

You were also lifting liquids to your lips too, staying hydrated was key in quarantine. And luckily for you the cases of wine and champagne that had gone untouched at your wedding towards the latter end of the previous year were buried in the garage of a house that you hadn’t ever thought you’d call home. Lack of flight paths back home and the closing of borders had changed that thought for you however.

Burying yourself deeper in the pillow beneath the side of your face, you watched Harry as he softly smiled taking in your less than impressed expression.

“Woken up on the wrong side of the bed or summat?” He teased, watching the way your expression scrunched up at him and his annoying love of early mornings.

“It’s not my fault someone kept me up half the night-“

“Didn’t ‘ear yer complaining last night,” his voice teetered off, eyebrows raised.

“Well, ‘m complaining now,” you pushed out your bottom lip, challenging him in a petulant way.

He laughed down his nose, shaking his head as he reached up to pick at the strings of his hoodie. Chin tilted up to the ceiling, you heard the way his tone of voice changed to a strain as he concentrated on tying his usual bow at his neck.

It was almost like he thought of himself as some form of present.

“‘Av at it then,” he encouraged you to bitch at him with whatever it was that had made you moody. “Eating into m’workout time so best be a good’en.”

“Piss off, you’re not even interested,” you scowled at him, knocking away at his hand as it reached out to touch you.

“Oi,” he frowned. “Don’t do tha’, don’t be like that.”

“‘M not being like anything.”

Harry’s eyes hardened as they looked at you, holding your gaze with his. You didn’t dare look away or crack a smile, even when you saw his lips start twitching as he found amusement in your childlike pouting.

Before you knew it, Harry had twisted his body so he was leaning over you, his presence welcomed rather than intimidating. His forearm pressed into the pillow at the side of your head as his free hand brushed at your slightly wild bed head.

“Gimme a kiss,” he muttered, his lips close to yours. You shook your head, with a small frown thrown at him. “Really gonna let me leave wi’out one?”

You hummed “‘s what you deserve.”

“‘S what I deserve? Me? What ‘ave I done?” He questioned. “You ‘ad a bad dream ‘bout me or summat?”

The silence that lingered after his question had you blushing under his gaze, as you focused anywhere but his eyes.

“Wha’ did I do this time?” He chuckled, feeling you shift in the soft hold of his arm. “Sorry that dream me is a bit of a knob’ead, I’ll ‘av a word.”

“You better,” you huffed.

“‘S as good as done, ‘f you let me have tha’ kiss,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing his face against the skin of your cheek.

His attempt at bribery meant he had basically won you over the minute he rubbed his lips down your chin and jaw, the feel of his beard harsher against your sensitive morning skin that still held its warmth from your nights sleep.

“Harry,” you giggled, wanting to curse yourself out at how you had buckled under him. Body tense as your head dipped into the pillow below as you tried to get away from the tickle of his facial hair.

Mouth pressed to your neck, Harry chuckled before opening his lips and leaving a gentle suckle against your pulse point while your fingers wove into his longer than usual hair. He knew he had you in the palm of his hand.

Your voice was breathy when it next spoke to him, velvety and happy as he nudged his nose lovingly along your skin. “Stop being a daft git.”

“Know exactly what would sort you out,” he whispered in return, making his way back up to your lips. “Come an’ hike wi’me,” he drawled, watching the way your eyes lulled to a hooded gaze.

You started to groan as Harry left a soft but pert peck to your lips. “‘M leaving in five,” he said, hand sliding down your back that was covered in your duvet. “Up yer get, meet you downstairs.”

The jolt of his hand against your bum, two swift and dull claps against the duvet material surprised you, before he pushed his body up and swiftly left your bedroom ready to start a new day.

***

You didn’t like the message that was on his hat.

You hated even more so that you were letting it bother you.

The horrible 70s font of ‘free and easy’ was unnecessarily winding you up. This man was a married man. Hardly the correct message to be portraying.

Eyes watched as Harry walked heavily in front of you, attacking the hill that you were both climbing, you lingered behind him.

His legs, the muscles in them we’re enticing to you but only in a way that was winding you up. How was he so fucking tanned already? His skin was so weathered that it always managed to piss you off at just how quickly he became a lovely shade of golden. His legs tanned better than yours did. In fact his everything tanned better than you did. His everything in general was doing better than yours.

Here you were once again being irritable. Frowning at anything and everything. Snappy but unable to figure out why. He was always so happy, you know? And you loved it, you really did but sometimes it was too much.

California had many a hiking spot. The knowledge of making it easily one of the best things about the place. Anything else, you could do without, but the hiking was always worth the struggle it took to even convince you to take part in the first place.

The sound of the gravel beneath your trainers, the sun beating down onto your skin, you watched as Harry’s trainer clad feet started to turn to you as he began to halt his pace.

Huffing and puffing your way behind Harry, you watched the way he tugged at the straps of his backpack and trekked along the desert like ground beneath your feet.

Looking up at him, you saw him move his sunglasses off his eyes and you swore if he placed them on top of the peak of his hat you were going to divorce him. Luckily, for him, he didn’t.

Sunglasses folded in his hand, you squinted up at him and waited for whatever it was he was going to say. “Told you, you should’ve brought a hat,” he shouted down to you, his voice carrying as you were surrounded by nothing but open space.

“I’m fine, just need to keep hydrated,” you held your water bottle up to him.

“You sure? You’re so slow-“

Before you could stop yourself you snapped at his teasing, “I’m social distancing, Harry!”

His eyes were wide from your response, his lips rolling into his mouth as he looked on at you harshly pulling open the lid of your water bottle and taking a large sip of your drink.

“Alright,” he dragged the word, his tone pitched slightly higher. “Like a bear wi’a sore head this morning, aren’t ya?”

“‘M beginning to think dream you is a lot better than real-life you,” you spoke, eyes refusing to look at him as you checked to see if anyone was around while you.

“‘S not true,” he softly responded, walking back down the hill to be closer to you. You knew he was right as well. “What’s up with you?”

Again you stubbornly took a sip of your water and squinted in the sunlight. “Darlin’,” Harry coaxed. “D’ya think-“

“No,” you stopped him before he could even begin to let his head carry himself away down the rabbit hole of baby talk. The baby talk that had been planted by his mother to begin with, the one thing that he had previously been trying to nip in the bud.

He was back to being amused again, you knew before you even chanced a glance at him from the corner of your vision.

The smile he wore was fleeting, barely there but reassuring all the same. Just one look in your eyes, properly, made him aware of the rush of uncertainty you had felt about the whole thing.

“Alright, ‘s fine either way though. Just so you know.”

***

Had your husband always been this hot or was it because he was about to feed you?

That was a question that was more and more frequently popping into your head with each passing day.

By the time you’d gotten back home from hiking, you were edging closer to lunch time and the growling of your stomach meant your mood was only going to get worse. If that were even possible.

You’d taken great delight in letting Harry know that no uplifting endorphins had found their way into your body after spending just under two hours, including the time you’d hiked and the time you’d been stuck in California traffic.

He had done nothing more than take every single thing you had thrown at him, as he wrapped his hand around yours and kissed at your knuckles affectionately.

Now you sat on the island counter in your kitchen, legs lightly swinging as you watched Harry boil pasta and simultaneously let your meat simmer away.

Next to you sat a glass of white wine, taunting. Harry’s wine was half-drank on the kitchen side as he talked through some tour logistics with Jeff. It felt like a massive elephant in the room. There was no denial.

Harry had picked your favourite wine, made this big deal about putting a ridiculous amount of effort in cooking lunch when usually the two opted for some picky foods of breads, meats and salad, given the hotter weather than you were used to at this time of year.

You warmed thinking about the trouble that he was going to but it wasn’t enough to shake the way you felt on edge with nerves.

“Speak to you tomorrow, mate,” he chuckled. “Stay safe, tell Glenne I’m sorry she’s stuck inside with you.”

A small smile played on your lips as you heard expletives through the other line from Jeff, before Harry cut him off.

Phone tossed to the side, the noise of sliding it along the counter filled your ears before Harry spoke over the noise of his cooking, “Even he’s pissed of wi’me. Got it in stereo at home from the wife and from m’mate.”

You knew he was joking from the glance he threw at you as he stood in front of you, before reaching to his right for his glass of wine. Your eyes were drawn to his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, wine glass clinking down before he spun around to walk to you.

As you admired him, you smiled thinking about how he’d yet to take a shower. Instead he’d let you go and enjoy the first soak of the day, underneath the steamy hot water.

“Legs,” he commented, requesting you lift them up straight so he could get to the cutlery drawer that you were covering.

You did so, feeling his right hand wrap gently underneath your one calf to help you keep them up. His left hand pulled at the draw, the rattle of the metal knives, forks and spoons, sounding heavily into the room.

He plucked up a fork easily, pushing the draw back into its place with his hip.

“I do appreciate you, you know?” You questioned, watching the way he lingered close to you. You watched him, messy hair in his eyes and knotted to high heaven. “Sorry for being in your ear all day,” you continued, eyes careful as you looked at Harry.

“Can’t quite hear yer over the cooking,” he mused. “Wha’ was tha’?”

“You heard me fine.”

He smiled, repeating your words back to you. Humming happily, eyebrows slightly raise, “I heard you just fine.”

Arms boxing you in, Harry’s shoulders were hunched as he stood between your legs. “Gonna let me have tha’ kiss now?”

“You’ve had plenty-“

“Not a proper ‘un,” he protested, enjoying the feel of your fingers brushing back his hair out of his eyes. Face wincing as you tried to remove any of the knots from his chestnut brown strands.

“Need to do something about this,” you spoke wistfully, changing the subject, eyes concentrating on your fingers as they continued to comb through his hair, taking it away from covering his expressive, as ever, face.

“We’re not at that stage in quarantine where we start having to cut me hair, no chance,” he deadpanned, his eyes enjoying the way your expression lightened with his lack of desire to your addition to the conversation.

“Reckon I could give you a lovely bowl cut,” you shot back, realising how quiet he had gone on you. Softly slowing the movements of your fingers, you let your eyes drop down to meet his gentle gaze. “What?” you asked, voice barely there, his expression very pleasing to your eye as his hair softly fell in a middle parting, tousled and very nineties.

“‘Seem a bit happier, hm,” he acknowledged, enjoying the way your hands had moved from his hand now to rest lightly at the sides of his neck. “Not fancy your wine?”

And just like that nerves swirled in your stomach again.

You scrunched your nose up at him, giving him a soft shake of your head. His eyes brightened and you knew exactly what he was thinking. You hated that you were thinking it too.

“Think I’m late too,” you admitted, seeing the way his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in. His chest heaved, before he blew out the most happy sigh.

“‘S fine,” he responded.

“Don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

“You’re not.”

“If you could see your face,” you shook your head, dropping your hands away from his neck.

“If I could see my face, what?” He jutted out his lips in question, his hands gently clasping yours and lifting them to wrap around the back of his neck this time.

“How you’re looking at me-“

“How I always look at you,” he mumbled. “Like you hung the fuckin’ moon. Stop worrying.”

Running your tongue across your teeth, you took in a deep breath. “Stop it,” Harry warned, the two words clipped, his hands setting themselves to the top of your thighs. “We’re just prepping a nice lunch, gonna eat it out on the patio, in the sun-“

“I don’t even think we’ve got a test lying around here, if we’d have been in London-“

“Baby,” he cut you off.

You swallowed heavily.

“When you think about it, this couldn’t have come at a worse time-“

He spoke your name harshly as he cut you off, his face hardening at your words. Nervously chewing on your bottom lip, you fidgeted under his gaze. “I didn’t, I don’t mean it how it sounds,” you knocked your head back so your eyes met the ceiling of your kitchen.

You could feel him scrutinising you. His gaze never fleeting as he watched you come to terms with all the possibilities.

“I mean, we aren’t even going to be able to get to a doctor. They aren’t seeing anyone right now and-“

“And we don’t even know if we are,” he soothed, reaching for your face and wanting your eyes back on his. He hated the worry that had stolen this moment from you. The shy giggles and nervous rambles, around passionate kisses and lingering pecks that usually were part of any pregnancy talk between the two of you.

But I think I want to be, you thought, eyes glossy as they looked at Harry. Leaning forward, he welcomed your weight as you rested against him. With a heaved sighed you spoke, ��God, I could really use that glass of wine right now.”

***

The record player in your lounge was the only thing keeping you sane at this point in the afternoon. The soft hum of Billy Joel playing around the room on the lowest volume, enough to keep you out of your own head.

There was something about songs that were piano heavy that managed to instantly soothe you.

It had felt like forever since Harry had slipped away from you as you stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing off your empty plates before placing them into the dishwasher. Your eyes glancing over at him just in time to watch him pull off his sweat laced t-shirt, tugging the collar upwards and revealing his broadening back.

Since then all you had heard alongside the crooning of your favourite record was the sound of the shower running, the occasional croon also leaving Harry’s throat slightly drowned out by the sound of running water.

As you sat, head tilted against the back of your couch, a soft smile hit your lips when you heard the water shut off. Not long after the soft, low singing voice of Harry filtered through your landing and downstairs.

The sentimental softness in that moment had you sinking further into your hoodie and pressing your nose into its neckline. You couldn’t help but smile as you heard how heavy footed Harry was being upstairs, a harsh contrast in comparison to the softness of his singing voice.

“‘S one of your faves, this one innit?” You heard his voice boom, cutting through the peace and quiet that had formed of its own accord after he’d dragged himself upstairs. You loved it when he commented on songs you liked.

Eyes closed, you imagined him leaning over the banister on the landing and shouting down the stairs to you in conversation between the floors of your home.

Choosing not to answer, you continued to mutter under your breath the lyrics and tried to ignore the havoc Harry was making upstairs in your bathroom.

There was a loud crash upstairs, before you heard a delayed curse of ‘bollocks’ from Harry.

His voice suddenly became clear as he shouted down, “‘s fine, nothing’s broken just knocked off some stuff of the ledge. Definitely not watching it leak everywhere right now.”

Your mother used to always tell you she used to count to ten with your father. Now you understood what she meant in saying that.

Men really liked meddling when they were bored. You were used to it by now. Pick your battles. Let it be like water off a duck's back.

Continuing to try and tune him out, you listened carefully as he pottered around upstairs. It wasn’t much after that you heard him descend down your stairs, and pad his way through your house into your lounge.

Harry stood in the doorway, watching as you sat with your eyes closed, trying to find some form of stillness. Softly clearing his throat, he kept his one hand behind his back while the other clasped tightly at the white towel that sat against his waist.

Eyes fluttering, you knocked your head slightly to your left and stayed quiet as you took the vision in front of you.

One thing that always amazed you about Harry was the way that he managed to almost fill the entirety of a doorway but never look menacing. His body was broader, the pecs of his chest more defined. The hair between them darker regardless of how he’d been shirtless in the sun. You took delight in that cause that meant his chest hair was getting thicker.

You eyed him, spending time on enjoying his rounded tummy and how much he was clinging on for dear life to the towel.

“No big towels left in the airing cupboard,” his voice broke your shared silence, causing you to sweep your eyes back up to his face. “Think you need to do some laundry.”

The smarmy, amused expression after his comment, made you shake your head. “You’ve got hands as well, you know?”

He didn’t answer your question, continuing to let the wet strands of his hair drip over his face and down his naked chest. “If you stand in the middle of the doorway any longer people will think we’ve got a flasher in our home.”

The frown that pulled onto his face made the smallest amount of laughter leave your chest.

“‘Ere,” he lazily spoke, throwing an item onto your coffee table. The noise of it sliding along the wood pulled your eyes away from watching him and onto the item that he had just gently thrown. “Just found this hidin’ at the back of the cupboard under the sink.”

That explained what all the knocking was.

Barely lifting your head to take in the item, you already knew what he was referring to. Eyes back on him, you watched as he fidgeted with his towel again. This time, opening the item slightly wider than necessary as he pulled it tighter around his thickening body and folded it in to keep itself together.

Turning his back to face you, you watched as he tried to drop his body down onto your couch. You made a noise of disapproval, seeing him still in a hunched over position. Harry turned his eyes to look at you over his right shoulder. His stare asked you what the problem was.

“You’re all wet,” you lightly screeched at him, watching him softly roll his eyes and twist his body to plonk himself down onto the coffee table opposite you instead.

In the silence, Harry once again began to pull at the towel at his waist. “For god sake,” you whispered, “put it away, will you?”

“‘S wha’ ‘m trying to do,” he argued in return, as he fidgeted with the white cotton and tried to cover his modesty. “Christ, you could just keep your eyes up ‘ere.”

“What’s happening here,” you joked, lifting up your foot from where it sat perched on the coffee table and poking at his stomach with it. His stomach really was rounding out and you found yourself loving it, any comment you were making simply out of pestering affection. “That’ll be those twenty trips a day to the fridge.”

“I’m possibly eating for two but I won’t know without the test,” he deadpanned, reaching up with both his hands and brushing back his wet and heavy hair. You smiled when it fell back in his after he pressed his forearms into his thighs, wanting to lean forward to get closer to you.

He wasn’t trying to conceal himself at all, his man spread the biggest you’d seen from him for a while. The towel gaped more than ever.

“Like you need anymore of excuse,” you responded, flashing him a false smile. You watched as he pressed his tongue to the corner of his mouth, trying to stop his laugh at you jokingly commenting again on his quarantine eating habits.

“‘S not very nice is it, that? To the potential father of your unborn child.”

You howled at that one, head falling back against the couch. “Potential father,” you squealed. “I’ve not been holed up in the house shagging anyone else, have I?”

Your laughter was too much. His silence said it all. There was no doubt a scowl over his features as you laughed at him.

“Dunno? Have you?” He sulked as he spoke back, annoyed you’d got one over him. “Might’ve done, this house is bloody massive.”

Letting your laughter die down, you pressed your lips together as you looked at him. Swinging your legs down you leaned in, squeezing his chin and jaw in one hand.

You melted at how pouty his lips became, his cheeks smushed as you pecked at his lips.

“One man, that’s it.”

He hummed, as you dropped your forehead to him. “Must have decent swimmers.”

“Swear to god,” you muttered under your breath, causing him to breathily chuckle.

This was the man you’d chosen to marry.

***

His back faced you as he slept. The dim light from the early morning seeping into your room from the slight crack that had been left in your curtains, thanks to the way Harry had poorly pulled them together the night before.

The sound of Harry’s deep breathing had your eyes lulling as you continued to allow them to roam over the expanse of his bare back and tousled hair.

Hazy eyes tried their best to zone in on Harry’s figure as he lay sleeping. It was nice to wake up before him, to get the opportunity to admire him at your own pace rather than peeking a glance his way as he whooshed through the room like a tornado like every other morning.

The smell of your newly washed bed sheets was alluring as you lay against your soft mattress, almost too alluring.

A faint snore left Harry causing you to softly smile as you saw the way his week had somehow managed to catch up with him. He’d done this thing where he’d taken it upon himself, to make himself work. He couldn’t tour, that was out of his control. And you knew that regardless of how much he tried to play it off, he was struggling with how he couldn’t change it.

Probably why he was throwing himself at every radio station possible.

Part of you was jealous that he was still sleeping, but the other felt warm in knowing he was allowing himself to switch off for this long today. That his work had been forgone and he was allowing himself to rest.

The last couple of days had been strange as you had become hyper-aware of your body and how it felt, the way in which it was reacting to smell and taste. To the touch of your husband.

And touch you he had. Harry was always tactile but as the potential news that you could be having a baby had made him even more so. His hands never really left you.

They were against your thigh when you sat close to him as you ate your breakfast together every morning. Fingers usually softly cupped around your thigh, sometimes trapped between both thighs if he thought he was being funny in dragging his hand higher up your leg in an outdoor setting.

That would usually drag a lazily, morning laugh from him. Pleased with his flirtatious antagonising.

Fingers would gently take to playing with yours in the evening, as Harry seemed to master the art in eating his evening dinner with just one hand. Gone was the use of a knife, as he would tilt his fork to the side to cut through whatever food you had cooked that evening.

The fork would even clatter against the plate to allow him to reach for his evening tipple of choice, rather than break how he was holding your hand, which was usually your left.

You’d noted he was still so enamoured by your wedding band which had joined your engagement ring. He usually would find himself gently plucking at the cushion cut diamond to make sure it was sitting central on your finger.

In this moment as you lay in bed, you supposed him taking time to touch you was his way to stay grounded. He’d been outrageously busy since your hike just three days earlier, more for someone who was in lockdown and made his living by singing music live.

The work was a blessing in disguise though as it had drawn his attention away from the pregnancy test that had found its place back under the bathroom sink, connected to your room.

It had allowed you to get out of your head for the last seventy-two hours. Breeze around like the newlyweds that you were, still basking sickeningly in how amazed you were by everything the other was doing.

It was hard not to get in your head now, though.

Laying awake and in a dream-like state, you always felt your body’s sensitivities more so when you had first woken up. It was one of the things that made morning sex your favourite.

But your body sensitivity seemed to linger more so now than ever. It didn’t make itself known solely in the morning. It was around when you took the chance to lay in the morning sun just before it peaked at midday.

You’d found that your skin became itchy, a form of prickly heat spreading over you, a lot quicker now and while it wasn’t something new your worry was already heightened tenfold since the pregnancy suggestion had even become a thing.

The first time it had happened, and you’d become irritated Wednesday, you cursed at your body for playing some sort of sick April Fools trick on your with it being the first day of the new month.

Harry’s deep chuckle against the soft skin of your shoulder hadn’t done anything to soothe you. “Just sit in the shade, grab one of m’old shirts and lounge in summat loose,” he had suggested a couple of days earlier.

You’d panicked at the time, regardless of his calm demeanour when hours later the red dots on your skin had remained, “I just don’t understand where this small rash has come from.”

“Where?” He’d set his tone, “Lemme ‘ave a look.”

From where he stood behind you, you shifted your - his - baggy dress shirt from where it was loosely buttoned up and draped over your body. His chin was resting against your shoulder as he looked down your shirt, catching sight of the light sprinkle of red dots on your skin.

“Looks like prickly heat t’me,” he hummed, knowing just how itchy heat rash could get. “Come take a cool bath wi’me, it’ll help.”

That cool bath had helped, a lot actually.

But away from your thoughts, in the present moment, the cool bath that had previously soothed you wouldn’t help this time. This sensitivity was the kind that had you wincing when clothes ran against you.

To put it bluntly, your tits were hurting.

There were no two ways about it.

And you didn’t even need to google how that linked to pregnancy because you knew it was a symptom women often had in their first trimester. However you’d had that symptom before and you and Harry were still baby-less.

It didn’t stop the anxiousness that flowed through you, however.

Could be solved by you taking the test though, couldn’t it?

That thought wasn’t wrong. Yet, it was scary.

It would change your life in two ways. Either you were going to become parents or it would make you realise you wanted to become parents. A sense of happiness while splintered with apprehension would either be your feelings of choice, or simple and unbridled disappointment would linger.

Harry’s deeper snore had you blinking yourself out of your blurring stare and let him come back into focus.

Wouldn’t hurt taking a test would it? It’s not like you were officially doing it without him. If you kept the door open as you peed, he would basically have been right there with you.

It would stop you thinking irrationally about the pains in your chest anyway.

Releasing a nervous sigh, you reached out towards Harry and softly touched his bare back. His back that was broadening more and more as quarantine went on. Fingertips lightly tracing at his skin, before your fingers slid up and wove through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You scratched lightly, before pausing when Harry’s breathing patterned changed. All movement from you froze, waiting for him to let you know if he was still sleeping. Instead of waking, you saw the way his body sank back down to relax into the mattress once more.

This noise of contentment left his lips in his sleep, Harry rolling further onto his tummy and pressing his face deeper into his pillow.

He was practically telling you to piss off and leave him be, even in his sleep.

Your hand, from his new position naturally fell away from his head as he was just a little bit out of reach now.

Taking that as a sign to get up and do what you’d been putting off for long enough, you slipped gently out from underneath the duvet.

A sense of sadness flew over you as the sleepy warmth of your bed fell away from your body while you walked around the bed and closer to the bathroom.

Eyes dropping down to your bed, you took in Harry’s face that was less than elegant as he slept. Mouth slightly ajar, his pouty lips were still framed with his thickening beard and a light divot sat between his shaped eyebrows. You fought against the urge to reach out for him and smooth out the disruption to the otherwise even contour of his forehead.

Footsteps sounded loud to your ears but were nothing more than soft pats as you turned to your left and entered your bathroom.

You felt nervous about shutting the door, not wanting anything to wake Harry in that moment. Leaving it ajar to avoid the click it would make as it connected to the doorframe, you bent at the knees and pulled at the cupboard door.

Sleepy eyes landed in the box that had become familiar with you now, slightly shaking hands reaching out for the item and pulling it towards you.

Standing, you - for some reason - couldn’t bring your eyes up to take a look at yourself in the mirror that practically covered the entirety of your sink and hand washing station.

The edges of the box had become quite worn which was hardly surprising given how many times it had been passed between you and Harry on that last day of March.

You didn’t need the instructions. There was no point reaching for them. Instead you went straight for one of the two pregnancy tests that sat wrapped inside and pressed your legs together.

You needed the toilet, of course you did. You’d just woken up. It wasn’t going to be an issue. And that was part of the problem as you stood in your stark white bathroom.

It wasn’t pretty, was it? Anything about pregnancy, you were sure wasn’t going to be airy fairy. The fact you were likely to get pee on your hand in order for you to find out in the first place, summed it up pretty well.

Breathing deeply, you hated the negativity you were forcing yourself to feel as a way to combat your anxiety. Swallowing, you lifted your eyes cautiously to take in your figure.

Wild hair met your eyes first, followed by an incredibly creased white shirt of which the sleeves half swamped your hand. You liked being engulfed in an item of Harry’s clothing, however. It was so hard to come by when you’d first started dating, up until the latter years where he’d taken it upon himself to bulk his body up for tour.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rucked up the bottom of the dress shirt and turned to sit on the toilet, clenching your eyes together as you placed the test where it needed to go.

And then you went for it.

How else were you supposed to describe it.

Not that you would ever need to describe this part to anyone. No one ever talked about this part.

Lifting the stick out from between your legs, you pressed it onto the counter to the side and sorted yourself out. Toilet flushed and hands washed, you cringed when the faucet created a noise louder than you wanted but it was out of your control.

Drying your hands you frowned at the faint call of your name, not sure if you were imagining it. Hand wrapped around the door, you pulled it open and caught sight of Harry gently looking at you.

He looked partly disoriented, blinking quickly before he set his gaze on yours. The softest smile you had sworn to have seen grace his face, since you had walked up the aisle to him, met your stare.

Not a word was spoken as he raised his left hand out for you to take, his right arm tucked securely underneath his pillow and he lay down.

“Come get back in back,” he mumbled. “‘S early innit.”

The bathroom light was turned off before you could even say ‘pregnancy test’. The item swamped in darkness as you shut the door and gently walked to your waiting husband.

Eyes dropping from his you noticed the way he’d folded down the covers so they sat against his lower abdomen. The span of his upper body on show for you to see.

“‘S late,” you corrected him when you were stood next to his side of the bed. Hand in his, Harry pulled it and gently placed it against his face, eyes slowly shutting when you found his hair and gently wove your fingers through his unruly waves.

“Refuse to believe it,” he mumbled into your wrist, lifting his head slightly from his pillow to kiss your skin.

“Why? Cause it makes you lazy bones,” you softly laughed, it turning into a squeal as he pulled you down to him, legs straddling either side of his body.

“‘S ‘nough out of you,” he hummed, chin dropping to his chest as he reached up to brush your fallen hair out of your eyes.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt the way the pads of his fingers gently skimmed across your face. His gentle touch tickled your skin, a smattering of goosebumps lining in the wake of his touch as he showered you with affection.

You had no other choice but to press yourself down onto him, as he lay against the mattress.

“Bloody obsessed wi’you,” Harry confessed, his eyelids hooded as his vision of you blurred and any light in the room was taken from him from your hair curtaining around your both. “I’d do some foolish fuckin’ things for you.”

“Would you?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, voice low. “Surely you know it an’all.”

“Might do,” you felt the way his lips pulled up into a smile, your lips resting against his rounded cheek. “Might not.”

“You fuckin’ do,” he groaned, head knocking back causing your lips to fall further down his face, “Would give you the clothes off my back, would give you anything.”

“That’s a loaded statement, sure you don’t want to retract it.”

He shook his head, swallowing as he said, “Do with me what you want, doll.”

The rawness to his voice as he spoke had you brushing your nose against his beard, the tickle of his hair something you had grown used to over the never ending days.

He turned his head waiting for you, the sound of his softly gasped name falling off your lips and straight onto his as he hummed happily in return. His hands brushed your hair behind you again as it continued to get in the way.

Breathing heavy against his lips, he smiled when you pulled him closer to you, squashing your noses together as you devoured him. A hum low, in the back of his throat, as you slowed. A confidence warmed you, fingers carding through his hair and gently pulling at his chestnut locks to create a gap between the two of you.

He tried to nudge forward to reclaim your lips, but you stopped his movement with a commanding, “Stay still.”

His jaw clenched, before you soothed the back of your fingers over it. Harry wasn’t always used to you taking charge in any situation, especially not in bed anyway. Not all the time and not with such an authoritarian tone anyway. Usually you played it lightly, a flirtatious push and pull between you both.

“Said I can do what I want with you,” you hummed, watching the way his nostrils flared as his breath picked up. “Gonna take my time-“

You ducked your head, lips sucking his skin the minute they came into contact with the light dusting of his beard that scattered down his throat.

“Never usually get to take my time with my husband,” you trailed off, teeth naughtily grazing at the top of his rounded pecs. He’s usually far too greedy, you though, keeping it to yourself.

Harry’s breathing was heavy now, his chest expanding as he tried to anticipate what was to come. His stomach tensed as your hands got lower.

“Your husband,” he emphasised.

“Know this is your favourite,” you watched him bend his left arm behind his head, raising his head slightly as he looked up at you sitting in his lap.

An amused chuckle reverberated through him. “If it’s with you, yeah, it’s my favourite.”

You dropped your eyes to his right hand as it came up to fiddle with the buttons on his dress shirt. Whilst there weren’t many buttoned up, he still couldn’t see as much of you as he would have liked.

As he unbuttoned, from the bottom up, you began to rock your bare nether region against Harry’s pubic bone, before you pushed back some more and came into contact with the sensitive and wet head of his heavy and waiting cock.

“Mm, found it,” he breathed, biting down on his bottom lip and tilting his chin upwards, eyes peering down his nose at you. “Tha’s what you wanted.”

You knew you should’ve been mad at the way he wasn’t doing what you had asked but there was something about how his right hand sprawled it’s way across your stomach as you rolled yourself messily on top of him. How it had just stayed there, resting, warmly.

With hooded gazed, you watched the way his bottom lip bounced away from his teeth, tongue enticing licking at the luscious pinkness and shining up at you.

“‘S tha’ look for?”

Frown etched between your brows, you appreciatively gasped as you felt the way his cock tucked between your folds as you humped against his wetness.

You were looking at him whatever way you were, because you were obsessed with him too.

Harry slowly pushed himself up, so you were chest to chest now. His lips bumped clumsily to rest on your chin, hand sliding around from your stomach and down your back before gripping at the top of your bum cheeks to keep you to him.

“Glowing, y’know tha’,” he huskily mouthed against your jawline, your head slowly tipping backwards and starting to show the expanse of your heaving chest to him.

Eyes dropping down, he quickly glanced at your boobs, how they pushed against the material of his shirt and how rounded they looked. Definitely looked bigger to him.

He knew he should stop himself, but he couldn’t. He was dying to strip you of the clothing item so he could get a proper look at you.

His hands travel back up the span of your back, nails catching against the cotton of his shirt. You felt him start to bunch the item up as you slowly brought your head back up, just in time to catch the way he set his jaw as he pulled at the final button of the shirt to make it fall open.

That button ripped away from the fabric, lost somewhere forever, mixed between the sheets until you would find it sometime later next week and it would pull you back to the memory of this time you’d had sex.

Harry’s head was already tilted back, his mouth now slightly ajar and lips still shining and pouty. Regardless of how much desire filled his face, you could tell he was waiting for you to tell him off.

He was being too handsy for someone who had been told to stay still.

“You’re not listening to me,” your soft whines were met with this breathy laugh down Harry’s nose.

The silence between you was short before his deep voice said, “Can’t help wanting to have a proper look at you.”

Your bum pushed back into his hands as a response, gliding easily against him regardless of how he held your center snug to his crotch.

“I’m getting hot,” you admitted, the cotton shirt becoming nothing more of a nuisance as it rustled around you. “This is getting in the way.”

Knowing you’d need help to pull the item off, Harry’s hand found their way to the middle of the shirt, slowly peeling the fabric away from your body.

He heard you suck in a breath through your teeth, the wince cutting through the room as he helped you remove the shirt you had picked to sleep in. Hair cascading down your back, you felt him sit up further, pulling your face to his, as he cupped the back of your neck. Shirt long thrown to the bottom of the bed.

“What was tha’?” His question was half lost against your cheek, his hands sliding down your nude back again, his grip strong as his palms found your arse and pulled you tight to him. He tugged you closer to him, a groan of lustful appreciation omitting from his throat.

“Bit tender, this morning,” you whispered, head dropping back as Harry pressed his softly smiling lips against the skin of your clavicle. “Stop it.”

“‘M sayin’ nothin’,” he spoke with a sing-y lilt, far to pleased with himself, softly lifting up and pressing his forehead to your collarbone. “Gonna have to suck on summat else if they’re hurting.”

“Haven’t done that in a while,” you mused, lips lifting as he hummed in agreement.

“Not since the full beard came in,” he wistfully replied. “Come and sit on my face.”

“Harry-“

“Alright, I’ll get back in m’box,” he jested. “Want you that way before I shave it off, at least once. At least-“ he trailed off when you took his mouth with yours again.

It never got old feeling him between your legs, and the two of you just staying like that. Kissing heavily like teenagers and neither of you making the first move.

“Don’t always get what we want.”

“I’ve done alright so far-“ he chuckled when you stilled against him, annoyed at how he had an answer for everything.

Wrapping his arms securely around your back, you felt him lower the two of your back down to your bed. Forearms resting in the sea of pillows, you gripped at the side of his face, “why won’t you just let me have my way?”

“‘S fun like this,” he whispered, keeping his mouth hot and heavy against yours as he breathed.

“You’re just spoiling it for yourself,” you tried to reason with him.

“Believe me I’m not,” he groaned, feeling you start to brush your aching centre over him once more, “I’m driving myself mad with want. Know you are too, know you’re gagging for me.”

You whimpered at his suggestion, breathing getting heavier by the second as you desperately rocked against him in slow, purposeful rubs.

“Darling, just put me in,” he dropped his eyes to look at the rock of your hips, “Have the real thing, have it properly, go on.”

His lazy but deep tone was too much to say no to as you lined him up at your aching warmth.

“Fuck yea,” he bit down on his bottom lip, breathing heavily through his nose. His voice was spent, as he let his mouth hang open, dry and desperate for him to swallow. “Take me,” he barely murmured, as you felt his tip sit at your entrance.

“God,” his worn out voice sounded, his clammy hands moving to rest underneath your nicely raised bum cheeks , “Take me. All of me.”

And just like that he was proved right, you were gagging for him.

His length slipped easily inside you as you sat down upon him and released a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding out in one almighty pant.

You didn’t waste much time once he was inside, leaning your body back and placing your left hand on the top of Harry’s thickening thighs for support, this mass of hair cascading down your back, the tips tickling at the tops of his knees.

Creating a 45-degree angle with the use of his legs, you put yourself on show from him immediately. You both knew this angle helped target you in all the right places, while still giving you ample control over the speed and depth of the thrusts.

You’d gotten exactly what you wanted.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed with Harry how your reclined position was an obvious invitation for him to stroke away at your clit. However, he found himself far too mesmerised by the way your body looked above him to bring himself to do anything but watch.

Your body had changed since he’d last taken you this way, or let you take him. He wasn’t sure where the power lay now and he didn’t care; not in the slightest.

You’d blossomed nicely, a bit more for him to grab onto since your wedding and he found himself flushing at how he could been fucking you like this and you be pregnant with his child.

He was convinced you were. Your boobs heaved above you, bigger than he’d ever seen them and he could’ve sworn you tummy was slightly more rounded than before. His gaze was getting lower, hands fighting with themselves where to go first and eyes trying to help him make the right decision.

As they dropped, he swallowed heavily. You had started to get hairy, a sign of laziness but also of being comfortable. He remembered so vividly the first time he’d taken you when you hadn’t shaved, and you weren’t as brazen to share it with him as you were now.

“Look at you shagging me,” he hoarsely caught your attention as your right hand moved from where it was pressed against his stomach and swiped up your own body to smoothly bring your hair around to your front. “Tits look incredible.”

His head dipped back as he saw your desperate expression as you brought your head up to sit your body up straight. Your adopted rhythm had been more of a rub and roll of your hips, rather than a drop and grind. It was almost as if the minute you had taken him inside, you didn’t want him to leave.

“‘M dying to play with ‘em,” he confessed, his hands coming up to your sides, before stroking back down. His hand cracked against your bum without warning, as you rocked forward with more fervour. “Fuck me, go on. Please keep fuckin’ me, don’t stop.”

His voice was choked and as you looked down at him, his lust filled hooded stare was waiting for your frowning expression, as your hands found his chest and softly slid up to his neck.

They rested there lightly, until you saw Harry raise his chin upwards to open the expanse of his neck and throat to you. He looked alluring like this, lying beneath you and exploring something you’d yet to discuss together.

You lightly stroked your thumb against the center of his throat, feeling the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. The feel of it causing you to panic, your hand starting to retract. How did you even know this was what he wanted? Just cause he had shown your more of his neck, didn’t mean anything.

Before you could get too far away, you felt him gently take your hand and encourage you to keep exploring. His eyes were dark with arousal as he whimpered up at you. The stubble that lightly decorated the underside of his chin was more than taunting enough; never mind anything else.

“You want that?

“Want everything wi’you, do it properly,” he pressed heavily against your hand, jaw clenching before your eyes were greeted with his falling shut and his mouth hanging open. A wanton moan, fell off his lips. “Use me.”

Keeping your eyes on his face you saw the way it began to flush with colour as your took away his ease to breathe.

The stifled groan of approval that left his lips as you rolled your hips up and dropped back down onto him with a clap of your thighs meeting, caused the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen him wear, to pull up onto his lips.

The leverage you had changed from digging your fingers into his throat. The position allowed you to press yourself hard down onto his cock, so much so that you could’ve sworn it was the deepest he had ever been.

You stayed that way for a while, the echo of your skin clapping together as your thighs began to burn. His hand smoothed over your skin and gripped at your hips to encourage you to not give in.

“My wife, pleasing me,” the roughness to his words, voice broken as you let his neck go but kept your hand there. “Doing as she’s told.”

You fell forward and brought your lips to his, his laugh at his previous statement mingling with yours. He knew he’d pissed you off saying that, a self confessed wind up merchant. He definitely didn’t wear the trousers here and he knew it.

“Remember where my hand is,” you faux-threatened, soft raise to your brows.

“Darling, you've had me by the balls since I first clapped eyes on you. Having me by the throat is nothing.”

Now it was your turn to be smug. To drop your hips down upon him again and hear him submit a groan confirming his willingness to please you just as much.

You felt yourself fluttering around him and it took everything within Harry not to hold you to him and just thrust upwards, giving you what you both wanted.

He liked that you had wanted to drag it out, to roll your hips over his this entire time and let your clit rub against his pelvic bone on every thrust. He wanted you to get it how you wanted, to hold out for you and have you draw his release out of him.

The whine that left your throat as you cupped around his neck and brought his face back to yours had him muttering words of approval that you couldn’t decipher. He knew you liked that, when you couldn’t quite figure out what filthy things he was saying to you to try and get you there.

A playful mystery which summed the two of you up perfectly.

“God, I love you,” you desperately gasped, face flushed and feeling clammy from your exertion.

“D’yer?” He roughly spoke. “You love fucking me, hm?”

“No, I love you,” you whimpered at him, breathing deeply and eyes wide. “Say you love me.”

He chuckled at your sense of needy showing itself, “‘course I love you.”

He softly smiled when he saw how blissful your face fell, his hand finding the back of your head and holding you to him. “Love having sex with you too, hm. Fuckin’ love it.”

You hips pressed down onto his as roughly as they could, a mixture of your arousal and his everywhere inside your thighs. Back and forth you moved in quick succession, panting matching how much you wanted it.

“Love it when you get like this, all messy and desperate for me. ‘S not like you, usually so put together and so good.”

“‘M so dirty for you-“

He groaned louder, feeling himself somehow press deeper in you. “Mhm,” he agreed against your jaw. “Yea, you are. Gonna come for me?”

“Dunno, ‘m thinking about it,” you smiled before fluttering around him and dropping your hips again. “Yes,” the motion of your hips started to get quicker once more.

“Don’t stop this time,” he quickly whispered, pushing his chin up and catching his lips with you. “Want you all over me.”

As your movements got more abrupt the sound of the mattress beneath you made itself known. The rustling sounds of sheets, a tangled mess against your merged together limbs, spurred you on.

He knew how much you loved the sound of the mattress like this, really showed how heavy you were going at it.

His awe for you was written all over his face as he looked at you. “Bit more baby,” he clenched his teeth, pushing up into you for the first time since you’d taken control. “Let me help you, hm?”

As he brought his hands down against your cheeks and hips, he pulled you down onto his strong thrust up causing you to reach for his face. “Come on, come on,” he whispered, sweat running down his temple and disappearing into his hairline.

The minute your mouth fell against his he knew he had you. Pliant as ever. You felt slack everywhere than around him. Tight and then gently fluttering teasingly around him.

And he knew was done for.

“Keep going, bit more,” he encouraged, just needing you to press down once more to meet him. When you obliged him, he spoke, “That’s my girl, yeah.”

Pulled down hard onto his pelvis, Harry vocalised how grateful he was. Pushing in further each time you squeezed and let him have it. So physically deep you don’t know where he ended and you began.

He loved how you fell against him, shaking arms wrapping around you and holding you gently to him; keeping your face tucked against his sweaty neck. The two of you shook against each other, allowing your unsteady breath to even itself out.

As you felt him begin to soften before your legs, you shifted your body slightly, Harry mewling at the loss of contact as he slipped out of you.

He nudged his nose into your hair, enjoying how the two of you were taking time to stay close.

“Come share a bath wi’me,” he mumbled against your cheek. Feeling you shake your head, no. “No?”

“I don’t want another go,” you mentioned

He chuckled, “I don’t wanna shag you, I wanna treat you to summat.”

“But I’m tired-“

“Yeah, ‘s hard putting all the work in, in’it.”

His statement caused you to bury your face into his neck even deeper. “Tell you what,” he hummed. “How ‘bout if I run the bath and you get to lie here while I do it? Sound better?”

“Yeah,” you childishly responded.

“‘Kay,” he hummed, amused, “Gotta let me out first.”

Not happy in the slightest at how you had to move, you gently rolled away from Harry and moved onto your stomach. Face pressed into his pillow, turned away from Harry he took his opportunity to run his eyes down your body.

The dip between your shoulder blades, how soft your skin looked to the naked eye, never mind felt to the touch. He couldn’t resist dropping forward, choosing to climb over your body rather than slip off the bed by his side and walk around.

“Think you should take that test,” he murmured, into your sweaty shoulder, as you lay sprawled out facing away from him.

“Why?” You asked, question weary and voice slightly wetter than usual. You already had taken it.

“Just think you should,” he happily hummed, nose running against the curve of your shoulder. “Call it a hunch, husband’s intuition.”

When he was met with silence, he decided to throw out a comment he knew would he incite a reaction from you. “Thinking of taking the bike out later.”

His motorcycle, which had definitely seen better days, was absolutely not something you wanted him going near. Regardless of how attractive he looked on the bloody thing.

“Are you trying to start an argument?” You mumbled your question, half of it lost against the pillow.

“Alright I’m going,” he replied, hanging half over your body. The way he chose to climb over you, caused you to press your face into your pillow to hide your smile.

“D’ya want bubbles or not?” He asked, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, and looking over his shoulder. You stared at him, feeling a sense of nervousness swallow you. “Baby-“

“Sorry,” you blinked softly. “Surprise me.”

He lingered, trying to see if you were okay, before he turned to enter your bathroom. Door kept open, you could see his bare arse as held any over the tub to push the plug in and turned to look at something to add to your bath.

The sound of bottle shuffling around filled you ears before he asked, “We’ve got the muscle relaxant one of you-“

He’d seen it. The way he’d stopped talking let you know.

The shuffle of his feet was heard before he appeared at the doorway again. “What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” You nervously replied, not even letting your eyes move to the item in his fingers.

His softness of his face had you sinking into the bed, further than you thought possible. “Have a look, ‘s it say?” You asked him, watching his eyes blink before he turned to look at the item and read over what he had already seen once more to be completely sure.

Harry blew out this sigh. The kind that really caused his body to move down. “What do you want it to say?” He asked, voice deep.

You hated how his expression was so hard to read. Usually he was so expressive that he tended to give himself away, not this time.

You saw him flick off the light in your bathroom, feet carrying him to you and letting his knee dip into the bottom of the mattress. Eyes following his every move, you dropped them down to his hand and saw the way that you clenched the item in his grasp.

The longer he took to let you know what the outcome off your test, was the worst you began to feel. His eyes were shining when they met yours again, them taking in the worry etched upon your face.

“You’re making me nervous, stop it-“ you let your eyes flit between his as he silently crawled over you. “Harry, seriously-“

Dropping his nose to yours, he breathed out a happy laugh. This close lipped smile brushing its way into his lips as he let his lips hover over you.

“Let’s go take that bath together, Mommy.”

***

Excited to hear all your thoughts! Thank you for reading .x

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry fluff #harry fanfiction #harry fanfic #harry one shot #my writing #quarantine harry

2K notes · View notes

butididntpourthewhiskeys · 3 years

Text

L O V E B O U N D

“Christmasbound III”

I know many of you never thought this day would come, but I’m glad to be back with our three favorites. please be kind, as I drafted this within a day. I genuinely hope you’ll like it. merry christmas from the fam xx

“And if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know you know, you’ll always know me. Dorothea. Uh uh”

She keeps her eyes closed, feels the warm and soft material underneath her huge headphones that cover the entirety of her ears. Surrounded by blankets and curtains, hanging right from her opened closet, Taylor feels the same warmth she’s always felt when recording music. Under normal circumstances, this would’ve been in a professional setting. A recording studio with narrow walls and acoustic matts covering the walls.

This little home studio in her closet certainly doesn’t compare.

With her eyes still closed, Taylor moves her head with the beat of the music, mindlessly reaches for the headphones. She doesn’t have to open her eyes, doesn’t have to be able to hear the slightest noise beneath the music to know exactly that someone is making their way to her. It’s instinctive, it’s natural.

With the huge headphones now in her hands, Taylor stops the recording on her laptop that is placed on the little table on her right side and then slowly turns around. She smiles. Her five, almost six year old child is standing in the room. She’s barefoot. Her long Pajama pants covering her petite legs. Blonde and curly hair in all directions, obviously in need for a cuddle with her momma as she rubs her puffy eyes and walks straight towards her mom.

“Mornin’ honey.” Taylor just mumbles into the warm neck, a little laugh escaping her lips as she already feels Eleanor hugging her neck so tight. A tiny head is now placed on her shoulders. She sighs in her low voice, seems to be in her half asleep dreamland state. Taylor breathes her baby girl in, slowly rubs her small back up and down. This just never changes.

“How did you sleep?” Taylor asks her quietly, slowly pulls back to squish the tired and warm cheeks and presses a big kiss onto them a few times. Eleanor just stands there, obviously still tired.

“Good.” she says, her eyes on her momma’s big microphone in the midst of the bedroom. Taylor knows that this is as weird for Eleanor as it is for her. After all she’s never recorded an album from home. Eleanor knows that her mom writes songs on the piano or on the guitar sometimes, but this whole technical set- up is yet another thing that has become Eleanor’s new reality. This global pandemic really has brought many changes into the little girls life.

“What are you singing?” she says quietly, still looking up to the big round microphone on the stand where her mom is sitting.

“I’m recording this song I wrote, called Dorothea.”

Eleanor looks at Taylor with big eyes, the same big blue eyes she knows from someone else so well and nods slowly. Taylor laughs.

“Who is Dorothea?” she asks then and Taylor grins.

“That’s a good question. She’s a beautiful girl who’s moved away from the little old town she grew up in and became famous, and everyone knows her.”

The blonde signer can already see in the five year old’s face that this conversation won’t go anywhere. Eleanor nods distracted, as Taylor places the headphones on the table next to her and pulls Eleanor onto her lap.

“Breakfast?”

Eleanor nods. Taylor slowly gets up, the big girl on her arms while making her way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Eleanor slowly cuddles herself once more into her arms and Taylor doesn’t complain. Currently, she absorbs every second of this clingy and cuddly phase that her daughter is going through. Taylor immediately has to think of the words of her pediatrician from the other week ago. This current global crisis is a big mystery for children. Everyone wears masks. No more playing with friends. No leaving the house anymore. How scary this must be for someone who doesn’t understand the world yet? Taylor knows that Eleanor has every reason to be clingy and needy of her mom during this time. And she enjoys this phase more than she ever thought she would. Back when Eleanor was a baby, she would sometimes dream about what it would be like to have a child who can play by herself, use the bathroom by herself, eat by herself. Now that her baby girl is in her last year of pre- school, Taylor realizes that time is just a construct and that every cuddle and every hug is only temporary. But it’s appreciated. So incredibly appreciated.

“Are you looking forward to your ladybug class today?” Taylor whispers into Eleanor’s ears and the little girl nods excitedly, just as Taylor places her on the marble counter right downstairs in the kitchen. Taylor grins, slowly opens the fridge.

“Today we have to bring our favorite teddy bear and I want to bring Benji.” Eleanor says excitedly, as Taylor just looks at her daughter and laughs.

“Don’t you think Miss Clarkson will know that he’s a real life cat and not a teddy bear?” Taylor says amusedly while pouring some oat milk into a little cup right on the stove. In her light blue pajamas, just like Eleanor’s, Taylor brings the milk to heat up and looks back at the curly head who’s already playing with the little miniature dolls she left on the counter last night.

“No because daddy always says Benji is a little bear!” Eleanor says laughing, seems to be more than excited about her clever idea. And if her dad says so, then it has to be right. Taylor grins at her baby girl while preparing her hot chocolate. She knows exactly how important Joe’s words are for the little girl. Eleanor is already focused on her little dolls again, seems to have almost forgotten that Taylor is in the room with her, and sings quietly while playing around.

“Here’s your hot chocolate.” Taylor says, pronouncing the last two words in an extra British way to make her daughter laugh. Eleanor takes the big cup with the kitties on the front right from her, and pulls out her tongue laughing. Taylor just laughs as well, both her hands on her head fixing the little curls.

"Mummy, it’s hot chocolate.” the five year old replies, automatically switched to her British accent, loves to correct her mum when it comes to pronouncing words the British way. Taylor will never be less impressed by the fact that her child is able to switch accents perfectly within the matter of five seconds. A perk of having multinational parents and growing up in two countries at the same time.

“My little British baby.” Taylor grins, then steals Eleanor’s forehead a kiss.

“Mommy, can we go to the park today with daddy?”

Taylor doesn’t say anything for a second, fixes Eleanor’s strand of hair before letting go off her. She stands right in front of the counter where Eleanor is sitting and slurping her hot cocoa. Taylor just quietly nods and Eleanor’s eyes seem to light up just within a few seconds.

“We have to speak to daddy anyways today and see what we’re gonna do for Christmas this year.”

“Mommy can we please celebrate with daddy and grandma?” Eleanor immediately says, places the mug next to her and starts pulling on her mom’s pajama shirt. Taylor knows this version of Eleanor too well. Whenever she really wants something she becomes all clingy and impatient. Taylor just sighs.

“Baby, we can’t celebrate all together because of covid. I explained that to you before.” Taylor says carefully, looks into Eleanor’s pouty face in the hope to find understanding.

“I promised you that you will see daddy and grandma for Christmas, we just... haven’t worked out a concrete plan yet.”

Eleanor doesn’t seem to understand what her mom just said, but she nods. The same pout as before. This quarantine situation is hard on Eleanor. Taylor knows that too well.

“Okay.” Eleanor just mouths quietly. Taylor smiles silently. Within a few seconds, her lips are meeting the tiny forehead again. Lips pressed against the soft skin, she kisses her daughter a few times, whispering a low “I love you” in between. Eleanor replies as lightly as always and Taylor helps her jump down from the counter. She quickly encounters Olivia and Benjamin who just made their way to the kitchen to greet the little girl that just got up. Taylor smiles at Eleanor and her quirky way of speaking with the cats. Just like siblings. It makes her laugh sometimes.

“Okay, Liv. You can play with me but you can’t steal my wedding dress again.” Eleanor says in all seriousness to Olivia as the two cats and the little girl disappear up the stairs. Taylor looks amusedly after them, slowly makes her way to the coffee machine and reaches for her phone that she left here this morning when she made herself coffee number one. With her favorite baby blue cup under the coffee machine, she presses the button and waits a few seconds. Her eyes wander onto her phone screen. Right on top of the background picture of Eleanor in the snow, Taylor reads the texts she missed from her friend Martha. Once Eleanor is with Joe, she definitely needs a class of wine and a good catch up session with her friends.

“Did you put on your warm socks?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Taylor yells back upstairs at her daughter, as she crunches down to grab the cat treats that are buried in the depths of her kitchen drawer. She immediately sees a very excited Benjamin come closer. Taylor grins at him.

“Of course you are the first one to be in line for treats huh.” she grins, immediately pets him on his head before feeding him.

Just when Taylor was about to close the drawer again, she can hear the doorbell ring. Within a matter of seconds, a very excited Eleanor storms downstairs. Taylor gets up, checks the little screen in the kitchen and feels her stomach churn. It’s always like that, every week when he stands in her front door. The black and white security camera still managing to point out his kind eyes, his voluminous hair, his effortlessness. He’s wearing his thick APC coat. The one he wore years ago when they first met. She still can’t believe he won’t get rid of it, has pointed this out to him multiple times already.

“It’s daddy!” Eleanor yells, and Taylor can already hear Joe’s quiet laugh. Of course there’s never a time when Eleanor simply leaves with Joe and not makes her face him in the doorway. Taylor just approaches Eleanor who’s standing in front of the opened door, looking back at her mum, waiting patiently for her to join her here. Sometimes, Taylor could almost think that she does this on purpose. That she makes sure Taylor has to face her dad every time he comes around to pick her up.

Within a few seconds, Taylor stands in front of him now too, her hand stroking over Eleanor’s wool beanie. The little girl is fully dressed for the winter park, her tiny green jacket matching her cream- colored beanie. Joe almost has no time to face Taylor, because Eleanor is already attacking him, jumping onto his arms to hug him tightly. He immediately picks the small girl up and spins her around a few times, groaning into her ears how much he missed her, placing a little kiss on top of he beanie on her head. Just when he slowly lets her back down to the ground is when Joe has the time to face Taylor. For once. She just stands there in her cream colored onesie, the one she used to hang out around the house with even back when they were still together. Her feet still wear the same weird fox slippers he used to make fun of. Her hair loosely hanging from the little bun in her neck. She’s not well put together, looks exactly the way only he used to see her around the house. And Joe hates it. He hates that she faces him today, looking like this again. Looking the way she did the first time he stayed over at her place in New York years ago. Not trying at all. Making him feel things he promised himself after last Christmas, to never feel again. Store them under the bed, right in the little box of his past and to lock her up, right in there. And make sure they won’t creep up again, the way they do right now.

“Hey.” she mumbles, a polite smile escaping her mouth. Joe takes a breath, looks at Eleanor to distract himself for a bit, before looking back up at her again. Facing her has never been easy since last year. But he’s getting better at it.

“Hey, I didn’t see you last time.” he already blurts out, has no clue why his nervous mouth has to just babble like this, without taking into consideration that it makes him look a bit weird and... nervous. Taylor seems just as uncomfortable as he is, laughs insecurely once more, then scratches the back of her head while standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, I was on a meeting last time you picked her up so..”

Joe just nods. He shouldn’t have said what he said before. Things are already awkward enough between them.

“Ready to leave, monkey?” He asks Eleanor, who is now sitting on the floor right next to the open door, putting her winter boots on. She nods immediately, seems to struggle a bit with her shoe laces, but is way too excited to sit still while looking at the big dog next to Joe. Taylor smiles. Eleanor loves Flint as much as the cats, always has and always will.

“Yes, daddy. Can I hold Flint again, later?”

“Of course. He’s so happy to see you too.” Joe mumbles with a smile on his face, crouches down to pet the big old golden retriever.

“Mummy, can you join us too?” Eleanor pouts, looking up at her mum from the floor.

Taylor laughs nervously a third time today, just shakes her head no. She can feel Joe’s stare in her neck, knows exactly why he’s so quiet all of the sudden.

“Honey, I told you I have some more work to do.”

“But mummy..” Eleanor pouts again, becoming as whiny as always when she wants something and Taylor just sighs.

“It’s good to get some fresh air. Especially now with the whole quarantine thing.” Joe says lightly, and Taylor turns to look at him. She knows his look and he knows hers.

He tried this before.

And so did she.

“I don’t know, I think it’s Eleanor and Daddy time, and…”

“No mummy, please. We can play with Flint together!” Eleanor tries again, now stands fully upright with her winter jacket and red boots next to her, and reaches for her mom’s hand. Taylor just sighs again, looks at Joe once more. She’s rolling her eyes and it makes Joe laugh. He just smiles, knows exactly how good their daughter is at getting what she wants, but makes sure not to look into Taylor’s eyes for too long. It feels like a welcoming distraction when Eleanor suddenly gets closer to him, lets herself fall onto his side once more, just hugging her dad’s leg before petting Flint again.

“Look mummy, he wants you to come with us.” Eleanor persists, points at Flint who just looks up at Tay. This old dog knows as well what the little girl is trying here.

Taylor just shakes her head and laughs. Eleanor definitely has that from her.

“Alright, if dad doesn’t mind..”

“He doesn’t.” Joe grins, and Taylor just nods, takes a step back to signal him that they can come back inside the house for a minute, just until she’s ready.

“Let me just put on some clothes, I’ll be back in a second.” she mumbles, already starts walking upstairs. Joe just closes the big door behind him, feels the warmth of this house and already smells the sandalwood candles coming from the kitchen. It smells like something he used to know so well. It smells like home.

“Daddy, come look at my pre- school folder.” Eleanor runs off yelling for him. With Flint next to him, Joe just laughs at his daughter.

“Darling, my shoes are a bit dirty from outside, I don’t..”

“Please daddy!” Eleanor calls him from the kitchen already. Joe quickly takes his shoes off with one hand, then makes his way into the kitchen. He has to swallow for a second as his eyes fall onto the picture frames placed upon the chimney. All the black and white pictures of the little baby girl. Taylor and Eleanor in the hospital bed. Benjamin and Eleanor on her first birthday. Pictures he took. Pictures that once meant the world to him. And she’s kept it all, certainly made this place a home.

“Daddy, look, I made this yesterday.” She squirms excitedly, holds the folder right in front of Joe. She’s fully clothed and ready for the cold. Joe has to laugh at her excitement to show him what she’s made.

“Wow, darling.” He just mumbles, is already crouching down to get a better look at her art project. A big rainbow fish, filled with glitter and confetti decorates the cover. In the middle of the front page, it says Eleanor Alwyn. Pre- School Class of 2020. He couldn’t be prouder.

“Look, this is a picture of me and mummy in lockdown.” she explains once Joe has opened the first page. He can’t help but smile.

“What are you two doing?” He asks.

“We’re watching a Christmas movie, look!” she says, her tiny finger pointing to what seems to be the television. He can’t help but laugh again, slowly turns his head to press a kiss onto her small face. There are no words for how much he loves this little girl.

“Have you and mum watched many of these this year?”

“Yes!” she just answers, and Joe laughs. Just in that moment, Taylor comes back into the room and sees the two crouching on the kitchen floor with her art folder. Flint is just sitting next to them, looking less excited about the scenery than Joe.

“I’m ready.” she just mumbles, and Joe looks up at her. He’s still smiling, seems to love what Eleanor is showing him.

“Are you showing daddy your pre- school folder?” Taylor laughs, as Joe looks up at her. He seems to catch himself becoming emotional, and slowly gets up.

“I’m so impressed what you two have been doing in quarantine.” He says with a smirk and Taylor can’t help but laugh as well.

“We’ve been very productive, haven’t we?” Taylor says and Eleanor nods, seems to not have understood the sarcasm between her parents.

“Ready?” Joe asks, looks at Taylor with a questioning look. Instead of getting dressed, she just threw a massive puff jacket over her onesie, a pair of black boots replacing the fox slippers and her blonde hair right under the grey beanie.

“Yeah, I was too lazy to get dressed so…”

“Alright, let’s go.” Joe mumbles, doesn’t comment her choice of outfit any further. Within a few seconds, they have left the house, started walking right into Camberbatch Road, and down the little lane to get closer to Hampstead Park. Whilst today was one of the coldest days so far, the sun is still up, sometimes disappearing behind the thick clouds, but steadily there. Making sure to come back and warm up this cold world at least for some time.

Eleanor has been as chatty as always when Joe picks her up to go for a walk in the park. For the first few minutes she’s been walking hand in hand with her dad, telling him about today’s class and how excited her class mates on Zoom have been when Benjamin showed up as her teddy bear. Taylor just listens quietly to their conversation and smiles. It’s been a good idea to get some fresh air, even if things with Joe are still more than awkward.

“Has he been sitting still?” Joe asks Eleanor, who immediately starts laughing, throws her head against her dad’s arm just being silly.

“No.” She laughs and so does Joe. He looks at Taylor and she grins as well.

“I mean what would you expect of Benji, huh?”

“Nothing less.” Joe answers.

A few minutes later the the three have reached the beginning of the Heath and the five year old girl impatiently starts to reach for Flint’s leash. She is getting more and more impatient the closer they came to the big park. Joe quickly stops and then crouches down to be able to properly look at his daughter.

“Alright bug, be careful and come back to me if another dog comes along, alright?” he asks and Eleanor excitedly nods, as Joe gives her Flint’s leash. Whilst the dog is almost her height, Eleanor confidently starts to run off onto the grass together with Flint by her side. Despite her huge puff jacket, she’s able to run as fast as humanly possible. Joe looks after them, can’t help but laugh quietly as well.

“Her confidence is everything.” Taylor mumbles while looking after her daughter, making Joe smirk.

“She’s done this many times, she can handle him.”

“Oh yeah I know, I.. I didn’t mean that.” She quickly adds and Joe nods, has no clue where the sudden awkwardness is coming from. He simply stares on the ground, can’t dare to look up to her or even right into her face. All he does is look at his feet, how his big winter boots are walking right on the cold ground. There’s not many people around, but more people than usually, two days before Christmas.

“So how are you?” Joe then asks, lifts up his head to look at what’s right in front of him, sees Eleanor and Flint playing and running on the fields at Hampstead Heath. Just like he did when he was Eleanor’s age. Right on the same grass. A nice circle that’s closing for him.

“I’m good. What about you? How has quarantine been treating you?” She asks, feels his slight laugh, even if she doesn’t look at him.

“It’s been fine. Just really annoying that we’re going back to Tier 4 again.” he mumbles, is more than happy that coronavirus is once more a great small talk topic to avoid awkward silences.

Taylor immediately nods, then even dares to look up at him while walking through the park.

“Ugh I know. This year has been such a mess.” she mumbles and Joe immediately nods.

“It really has been. I’m glad you two are staying safe not traveling.” Joe then says and dares to look at Taylor for the first time today. Taylor looks back at him, then sinks her head covered in her grey beanie once more. She knows exactly how he meant his last statement, and it’s hard for her to take. To feel how much he cares. For both of them. Still.

“Of course. It’s impossible for us to fly around during this time, especially cause pre- school has been extending their classes to make sure the kids are busy until things go back to normal. So it’s been great for her to have a daily schedule to see her friends.” Taylor says, looks at Eleanor who’s no more than a hundred meters away from both of them, running wild with Flint, who seems to barely be able to keep up with her. This poor old dog.

“Absolutely. You’re.. you’re doing a fantastic job being home with her 24/7. I... I hope you know that if it gets too much, you can just drop her off for a few days and I’ll keep her busy.”

Taylor looks at Joe and smiles. He’s never offered this to her since they’ve been in lockdown, and it’s more appreciated than he can imagine. With her bare face, Taylor smiles at him, her breath visible in front of her face due to the cold.

“Thanks, I think I might actually have to take on that offer.” She says, a laughing breath of air escaping her. Joe looks up at her once more, a bit confused.

“It’s exhausting to keep her busy 24/7. I’ve been trying to work, but...”

“Taylor, seriously, I live two kilometers away, why didn’t you ask me...”

Taylor wants to interrupt him and explain herself, but she knows too well that there’s no reason for her not calling him. There’s no reason why she didn’t ask for his help, why she didn’t simply put Eleanor in a car and let her stay at his house for a while. There is no reason, and it’s the first time that she realizes that herself might be the only reason for the distance between them right now.

“I... I didn’t know this is something you’d want to do.” She says then, knowing damn well that she’s lying.

“Of course, just... just have her stay with me for a few days after Christmas if you want.” Taylor doesn’t interrupt him, just nods as they continue walking down the Heath. The trees look so sad, have lost their leaves months ago already. Rotten and almost forgotten, do these leaves now remain on the ground, buried under the footprints of the endless amounts of people walking down this park this winter, trying to escape the prison of quarantine. Taylor has noticed before how many people have started going on hikes, connecting with nature again to escape being home all the time. A crazy dynamic for the world they’re all living in.

“Speaking of Christmas,” she then says, kind of happy that she’s been able to change topics.

“So as you probably know, there’s no way we can visit my parents this year or vice versa so I wanted to ask if it’s fine for you if Eleanor and me celebrate at my house on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day and a day later if you want, you can have her for a few days?” she asks, as Joe already looks up at her with a confused look.

“So you want to be alone with Eleanor for Christmas basically?” he asks again, and Taylor can already hear the mood changing in his voice. She really doesn’t want this to turn into an argument, she doesn’t want to disagree with Joe while having a conversation with him for the first time in months.

“I mean we’re in quarantine. The government literally told us to...”

“Tay, she’s five.” Joe suddenly interrupts her, and Taylor doesn’t know what hurts her more. The fact that he called her Tay, which is what only her closest people call her or the fact that he seems upset. She can feel that in his voice.

“She��s five years old and she’s got her dad and her uncles and her grandparents live.. a few meters away. I mean I appreciate that you want to keep her safe but we’re all getting tested tomorrow morning and I really want her to at least have a good Christmas especially in such a shitty year.”

Taylor doesn’t say anything, feels Joe becoming quieter and looking back at her.

“I just...”

“I want you to join as well.” he then suddenly blurts out, and within a matter of seconds, Taylor’s stops and looks at him in confusion. Joe turns around to her, his hands buried in his jacket. It’s freezing and he’s never been happier for the pockets in his black jacket.

“Joe, I... I appreciate you..”

“No Tay, I’m serious. I don’t want you and Eleanor be all alone on Christmas. Not her and not you. It’s... we’re....”

She can feel him search for words and it already pains her. He hasn’t said it yet and she doesn’t want him to. She knows what’s coming. She knows it too well.

“In some ways we’re still a family and I just don’t want you to sit alone in this house on Christmas Day. With or without Eleanor and...”

“Joe.” Taylor says. Her hand on his arm, she was just about to say something as Eleanor comes running by, seems more than upset. Immediately, Joe understands the situation. Flint has run off, right up to a couple with a small dog. Joe whistles twice and Flint quickly comes running back. “Did he run off?” Joe asks her, as Eleanor just nods quietly. Within a few seconds, Taylor has crouched down onto Eleanor’s height, takes her into her arms. Joe looks confused at the two, only then realized that Eleanor fell when Flint was running off.

“Oh darling, did you hurt yourself?” he asks as Taylor already signals him that the fall wasn’t that bad. Just when she lets go off Eleanor, the little girl hugs her dad once more, crocodile tears falling down her cheeks.

“I hurt my hand” she sobs, and Joe immediately reaches for the slightly bruised and cold hand and kisses it a few times, warming her up.

“My poor little angel.” he mumbles and Eleanor hugs her dad again, placing her head on his shoulders. Taylor can’t help but swallow down a laugh. Eleanor loves to be dramatic, another thing she’s got from her mother. And this little girl also enjoys her dad’s attention more than anything in this world.

“Look, there’s Flint.” Joe then says, just when the dog came running back. Eleanor quickly lets go of Joe and looks at the dog with an upset face.

“You hurt me when you ran off, Flint.” Eleanor says as dramatic as she can be and Taylor as well as Joe try their hardest to stay serious.

“I think he’s sorry, isn’t he..” Joe mumbles and pets the confused dog a bit. Eleanor also seems to calm down slowly and runs her hand over the dog’s head a few times.

“It’s okay, Flinty.” she then mumbles and Joe laughs, moves his head to kiss her head once more.

“Come on, let’s keep walking together.” Joe says and Eleanor keeps walking next to her dad, hand in hand. After a few minutes, she lets go off his hand once more and runs off. Taylor just looks at her mini- me and smiles.

How quickly to forget, as a child. How easy to leave a situation and simply move on.

“Alright, alright. One hot chocolate with caramel and whip cream for miss E.” Joe repeats with a laugh on his face, taking his face mask out of his pockets while letting go off Eleanor’s little hand.

“What can I get you?” He asks Taylor. It’s slowly getting dark outside and they’ve made it back, are now standing in front of the little Starbucks located in the heart of Hampstead Village. Just three shops are open at the moment, offering hot beverages and meals for take away. He can see in Taylor’s make up free face how cold she is. Her cheeks are red and her hands are buried in her own puff jacket pockets. She certainly needs a drink to warm up as much as he does.

“Mhm maybe…”

“Skinny Caramel Latte?”

Taylor looks at him, can’t help but smile. She can’t believe he still knows her so well.

“Sounds good.”

Joe laughs, winks at her and disappears inside. Taylor looks after him, waiting outside. It’s hard for her to believe sometimes how he hasn’t changed at all. He still knows every little detail of her by heart, and so does she. But maybe, just maybe, he has changed? Maybe he has been able to change for all the reasons she wanted him to, exactly a year ago. A year ago, when she had a piece of what she once knew. A piece of Joe, something she had to leave behind once more. For her, but even more for Eleanor.

Taylor slowly crouches down to Eleanor, who stands next to Flint and carefully pets his head.

“Are you cold?” Taylor asks her quietly, but Eleanor shakes her head. She’s exhausted and tired from all the running around and fresh air she’s had today. Taylor can sense that. After the sugar crash from her hot chocolate, Eleanor will certainly sleep well tonight. A gift for her mother also.

“That was such a fun day with dad, huh?” Taylor asks with an uplifted voice, and Eleanor nods as well. Something is upsetting her. Taylor can sense this immediately.

Wrapped up in her big jacket and beanie covering her ears, Eleanor just stands there. She’s become so quiet since the last few minutes, just strokes Flint’s head up and down.

“What’s up, baby?” Taylor says quietly, enjoys being so close to her that nobody can hear her but Eleanor.

Taylor doesn’t get an answer, just witnesses how the corners of Eleanor’s mouth are slowly drooping. In slight shock, Taylor just takes Eleanor into her arms. The little girl starts crying for a second time today, but this time it’s not because she’s hurt her hand.

“Baby, what’s.. what’s going on? Why are you sad?” Taylor just asks, a bit worried, her hand immediately in her beanie, comforting the cold little girl in her arms. Eleanor slowly lets go off Taylor’s chest and just stares at her mommy. She immediately wipes away the little tears from Eleanor’s cheeks with her thumbs.

“I don’t want daddy to go home.”

Taylor feels a punch in her stomach. She knew it. She could’ve known that this would happen.

“Honey, daddy is first of all getting you a hot chocolate and then..”

“And then he will go home but I don’t want him to go home.” she gets whiny again, and Taylor doesn’t answer, just kisses the cheeky little face a few times. When Taylor and Joe spent time together over Christmas last year, Eleanor had a similar breakdown. And Taylor knows why. It brings back old memories of mommy and daddy together with her. It brings back memories of dad leaving. Memories of her moving into a different house. A house where daddy isn’t living at anymore.

“I promise you, we will see daddy in a few days. Okay?”

Eleanor doesn’t answer, and Taylor feels her heart breaking once more.

This was never what she wanted. This was never what she wanted that day, when Eleanor was laying on her bare chest, opening her eyes for the first time. This was never part of all the promises she gave to the little girl in her arms.

Just when Taylor was about to comfort her once more, Joe comes out of the shop again, a little brown craft tray with three cups in his hands. As he takes off his mask, he can see Eleanor’s face and the wet little cheeks coming out of the beanie and warm jacket she’s wearing. He can see Taylor’s look. He can feel it up his spine.

“Hey, love. Your hot chocolate.” He just gently says, crouches down to Eleanor just like Taylor did. Eleanor is not crying anymore, but she seems sad. Joe feels that.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, and Eleanor just falls into another hug with him. Joe almost drops the little paper tray, as Taylor takes it from him within a few seconds, holding Flint’s leash in her other hand as well. Joe just hugs his little daughter back, is obviously confused.

“Sweetheart..”

“Daddy, can you stay with us tonight..”

“Eleanor!” Taylor interrupts her, as Joe just signals Taylor he’s handling this.

“Darling, why do you want that?” He whispers into her ear. Eleanor just looks up at him, still whining.

“Because you always go home after we played with Flint.” She says, Joe knows exactly what she means.

“That’s cause it’s almost dark, my love.” He says, holding her head in his hands. He slowly kisses her forehead once, and then her lips.

“How about we go home and have our hot chocolate, and then if it’s fine with mummy we can play in your room a bit longer, huh?” Joe says to comfort Eleanor, already got a comforting nod from Taylor. She just stands there, feels shattered for the hundredth time since they’ve been doing this. It’s certainly not the first time that Eleanor is reacting like this after they’ve spent time together. Taylor knows that she misses him. That Eleanor remembers what it was like when dad didn’t have to “go home” and her sleeping place was right between both of them. It’s rare but these are the moments in which Taylor feels like she failed. Feels like she’s been telling herself and Eleanor a big fat lie. The lie that being separated from Joe, would be the right thing. The lie that Joe is the one who brings uncertainty into her life. A lie that’s been reality for her for so many months on end.

She can’t and won’t forget that.

Joe slowly gets up, kisses Eleanor’s cold little mouth one more time.

“Daddy might live somewhere else, but I’m never gone. You can always visit me, and I will always visit you.”

Eleanor immediately reaches for her hot chocolate that Taylor is giving to her and nods. She seems to be happy with his answer - for now. She nips on the cup one time, her eyes still puffy from her tears.

“Good?” Joe asks and she nods.

“Good.” She answers and he laughs quietly. She already has a chocolate mustache in her face.

Joe can’t dare to look at Taylor’s face again, just takes his coffee from the tray in her hands as they slowly start walking home. For the rest of the walk, Taylor is quiet. A bit too quiet for his taste. He knows how she feels, can feel it through her wool beanie and puff jacket. She feels guilty. She feels guilty for something she shouldn’t feel guilty about.

Just when the three arrive at the front door of the big house, Taylor takes out the key from her pockets and opens up. Eleanor is busy telling Joe about her friend Rosie’s doll house that she misses playing with and how she wishes that Santa Claus would get her the same.

Taylor still says nothing. Joe slowly gets in, looks at Taylor who just closes the door.

“Do you want me to put Flint into…”

“Oh yeah, let me get him some water and we can have him wait downstairs. I think the cats would..”

“Yeah sounds great.” Joe says, and thankfully passes Flint on the leash to Taylor. After all, the cats have never got along well with him and they shouldn’t be risking the animals getting into a fight tonight.

Joe just watches her immediately walk off with him, takes off his shoes himself.

The steps on the staircase creak louder than he intended, slowly makes his way downstairs. Joe is only wearing black socks, his jeans and long sleeve casually covering his upper body. He slowly glances into the living room, can see the big flat screen tv running, but Taylor is nowhere to be seen. Candles on the coffee tableare lit, the little lamp at the end of the big living room turned on, lighting up the room in the most cozy way. He smiles. Taylor always knew how to make a place a home. As he takes a few more steps into the living room, Joe suddenly realizes that Taylor is passed out on the couch, her back facing him from where he stands. He slowly walks up to the tv, doesn’t want to startle her. He remains silent. Taylor is hugging one of the big orchid colored pillows, sleeps silently. The fresh air today seems to have not just helped Eleanor pass out faster than usual - it has made her tired as well. Joe doesn’t move, just looks at her sleeping. This has always been his weakness. Her most angelic state, asleep, right next to him. Joe slowly moves, places his hand on her arm, trying to wake her up gently.

“Hey, Tay..”

After a second, Tay wakes up and is startled. She quickly sits up, looks at him confusedly and Joe grins. He knows that look too well. She’s always needed a second to come back to life after being asleep.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…”

“Oh, no no.” she quickly says, scratches her head on the side she’s been laying on. This side of her face has imprinted the pattern of the pillow. Joe smirks, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m.. I’m sorry, I just passed out.”

Joe nods softly.

“No problem, I just wanted to let you know that Eleanor’s asleep as well. We were playing with her dolls and it took her half an hour to pass out on the carpet. So I just tucked her to bed. Hope that’s alright…”

“Yeah, perfect. Thank you so much.” she says.

“Alright, I’m going to get going then.” Joe says. Taylor was about to get up to accompany him to the door as she realizes that they haven’t finished speaking about Christmas.

“Oh, uhm Joe, can we.. can we quickly speak about Christmas before you leave?” She asks. Joe immediately nods, casually comes around to where she’s sitting and lets himself fall onto the place next to her, right on the big and comfy couch.

“I almost forgot, you’re right.”

“I just…” Tay turns down the volume of the tv and looks at him. “Joe, I just wanted to say that… that first of all…”

He can see that she’s thought this through, watches her play with her hands in nervousness while speaking. He knows her too well for her to hide anything. He knows every gesture, every look, every single detail of her body language. She is nervous. She is looking for the right way to say whatever she needs to say.

“First of all, I appreciate your kindness. So much. In.. in you thinking of me and wanting to invite me for Christmas, but..”

“But?”

“But I really thought about this earlier, and I came to the decision that I want you and Eleanor to celebrate together with your family like you did last year. I really am fine being home with the cats. I’m going to FaceTime my family, watch a movie and go to bed. I think this year the circumstances are even weirder than last year, so I would really prefer to lay low and…”

“May I.. may I say something?”

Taylor looks at him a bit confused, is not used to him interrupting her in this way.

“Uhm, sure.”

“I spoke to my family about this a lot. About how weird things have been between my parents and you. I mean.. you haven’t seen them since Christmas last year and we both know how weird the circumstances were.” He says, referring to the last Christmas. The last time they’ve seen each other. Back when she and Joe were repeating old patterns, making old mistakes. Back then, when she begged him so much to change. Begged him to undo the past years.

Taylor looks at him in shock, thinking about the fact that his family has been speaking about her. She has no idea where this is going, but she surely knows that her hands are getting sweatier the second they speak.

“And… Tay, I…” he stops again, looks at the insides of his hands. She’s barely experienced Joe like this. The only time he’s searched for words was when he asked her to marry him, years ago, years before Eleanor was in the picture and she turned him down. Bits and pieces of their history coming up in her while he sits there, as handsome as always, speaking to her.

“I know a lot happened between us, but.. this year, more than ever, I realized that you and me we will always be family. You.. you’re Eleanor’s mum. You’re my daughter’s mother. And I want us to achieve what we didn’t manage to achieve last year. Being friends. Being family. I just.. I wish we could be fine again.”

Taylor feels goosebumps coming up, immediately nods. She relates to what he says. They will forever be connected. They will forever have to see each other. And things certainly would be easier, if they were cool with each other and she wouldn’t have to go into hiding whenever he comes to pick up his daughter.

“I know, Joe. Me too, really.”

“And actually, it was my mum’s idea. She.. she asked me to speak to you. And to ask if you want to come over on Christmas Eve. As I said, we will all get tested tomorrow so we can make sure everyone’s safe. I think it would mean a lot to my family to reconnect and.. especially to me.”

Taylor looks at him, and for the first time in a while, she honestly smiles. There’s no hesitation, no hiding, no underlying thought - she wanted exactly that. Even last year, she wanted nothing more than for them to be fine again, especially with his family. Eleanor’s family. And therefore, her family.

“I want to reconnect too.” She then adds, sees in Joe’s face how relieved he seems to be. He smirks the same smirk she knows too well, his blue eyes shining, shyly looks down to hide the fact that he’s indeed smiling widely. She feels a bit drunk, looking at his smile, at his shy way of sitting there again. The way he always did.

“And I.. I’m sorry, Joe.” her mouth suddenly moves. He looks up at her. “I’m sorry for.. for sleeping with you and then disappearing.” she says, can see in his face that he didn’t expect her to go there. And neither did Taylor. She nervously changes her seating position on the couch, moves her leg up under her bum, pulls the sleeves of her onesie over her knuckles, while looking into his face.

“It was wrong, I played with fire.. I think we both played with fire. But it wasn’t right of me to just disappear. I know I kept saying, I want you to change, I want you to be more grown up, more responsible, but… right now, it seems like you’re more responsible and more grown up than me.” she says softly, shrugs with her shoulders and looks into his face with every ounce of honesty. Joe doesn’t move, he nods. He’s thankful. He’s never been more thankful for anything she’s ever said to him.

“I have changed this last year, yeah.” he then adds. She looks at him, the flicker of the tv in the darkness reflecting onto his face. It’s only 8pm, yet it’s fully dark outside. A classy, depressing English winter evening. But Taylor doesn’t feel depressed anymore. Taylor sits here, and feels how warm and tingly everything in her is getting. The kind of warmth you would expect when something finally happens that you’ve been praying for a long time. She knew he had changed. She knew it every Wednesday, and every Sunday when he stood in the door, picking up Eleanor to spend time with him. She knew every time the phone rang, and Eleanor would excitedly tell him about her day for at least half an hour. Every time Eleanor would come home, happily fall into her arms, telling her about her adventures with her dad.

“I know you have.” she quietly says, a smile on her face. Joe looks up again, the mood as warm and familiar as ever. He doesn’t say anything, simply reaches for her hand. And Taylor remains quiet too, just lets him hold hers. It’s been a year. It’s been ages. It’s been a lifetime of Taylor and Joe, yet it feels like only a second since he last did this. Simply hold her hand. Just sit there, being there.

Actually being there.

“I should.. I should get going.” he then says, lets go off her. She just nods, gets up together with him. She can feel that he’s been overwhelmed. And so was she. Joe slowly walks into the hallway, and Taylor tuns on the little light, right on the side board.

“So, you.. you can get tested too if you want. Dinner’s at 6 o’clock. My mum told me to ask if you want to stay over…”

Taylor leans in the door frame, watches him put his winter boots back on. She smiles. Nothing compares to the warmth she feels at the thought of Elizabeth wanting her there. Her second mother. That’s how close they used to be years ago.

“That’s incredibly sweet but, I think I will just go home after dinner. Eleanor can sleep with you. I can come back in the morning for presents.”

Joe nods, accepts her decision fully.

“Should I.. should I bring something for dinner? I can make dessert, or..”

“No, just bring some Eleanor.” Joe jokes, Taylor laugh quietly. He can see in her eyes, what a massive relief there is. She seems so light, lighter than he’s witnessed her in years. Nothing ever made her more beautiful to him, than her most honest smile.

“Okay, will do that.”

Joe gets up, opens the big door himself.

“Alright then.” She says. Joe smiles one more time. He laughs. And so does Taylor. Things certainly are a bit awkward still.

“Come here.” he then casually mumbles and pulls her into a tight hug. Taylor doesn’t say anything, lets him hug her tight. She closes her eyes, both her hands hugging him back. She doesn’t want this hug to end. It feels better than last year. It feels more real. honest. raw. They’ve come quite a long way.

“Thank you so much.” she mumbles once more, and Joe ends the hug, smiling at her once more.

“You too.” He whispers, then slowly lets go off her and leaves the house. Taylor just stands in the doorway and watches him walk off. She waves one last time, only until he’s left the road her house is on and then closes the door.

She looks into the big mirror one last time, fixes her messed up bangs and makes sure her long sleeve cotton dress covers everything it needs to cover. The past two days have been interesting. She’s been telling her friends about this afternoon with Joe. About their holding hands, their hug, his invitation for her to join their family Christmas again. Taylor couldn’t be more thankful yet she knows that she needs to take it slow. That if they’re really onto something real and good, then this time, they need to take it extra slow.

Taylor turns around again, then perfects her red lipstick. Even though she wants ‘extra slow’, she can still look fabulous tonight.

“Honey? We need to leave.” Taylor yells upstairs, hears Eleanor answering her from the bathroom. Taylor quickly puts on her black coat, grabs her tiny handbag and walks upstairs. Just when she enters her daughter’s room is when she has to laugh. There’s tiny bits of paper everywhere, it seems that Eleanor’s self made presents have certainly taken up a lot of paper and created quite a mess in this room. But Taylor can’t be strict today. She knows how excited Eleanor is for today. And so is she.

“Ready?” Taylor asks, looks at her baby girl collecting her favorite toys for her tiny backpack that she wants to bring for her sleepover at grandma’s house.

“Yes, mommy. Look, all my presents are in here.” she says, shows her mum the little paper bag she has designed herself with all the kitten stickers on top of it. Taylor laughs, bends down to kiss Eleanor’s hair.

“Come on, put your shoes and jacket on. Brandon is outside waiting for us.” she says and Eleanor storms downstairs. A few minutes later, Taylor fixes the mask on her face before getting into the big black car where Brandon is sitting. Right next to Eleanor, Taylor feels her stomach churning. She feels as nervous as back then when she would meet his family for the first time. In a way, it feels exactly like that. It’s meeting them again since a very long time. A very long time with absolutely no contact. Filled with fears and guilt and anger.

But not tonight.

After less than fifteen minutes, the big black car stops right in front of the little brick stone house right at Budwick’s Lane. Eleanor gets out of the car, her little backpack on, as happy as ever. Taylor closes the car’s door, carries the pink bag with Eleanor’s toiletries and clothes, waving Brandon goodbye.

While Eleanor is already running up to the doors entry, Taylor feels how nauseous she suddenly gets. Standing there for a minute, she just takes a good look at the old brick stone a house, covered in ivy. The light shining out from the little hatch, right above the guest bathroom window. This house was once her first home away from home, in this country. So many memories that she feels all at once. Good and bad ones. Taylor suddenly wonders, if this was really Elizabeth’s idea? After all, she will never be able to forget Elizabeth’s angry stare a year ago at Eleanor’s theatre performance at pre- school.

Without Taylor being able to take a last deep breath, the old door opens and Richard stands there, Eleanor immediately jumping onto his arms. He hasn’t changed. He’s still Joe’s dad.

“Grandpa!” Eleanor yells, seems just as happy as Richard to see her.

“My little monkey.” he smiles, kisses the five year old on her head. Taylor just stands there, swallowing once.

“Merry Christmas.” she just says, slowly follows her daughter who’s been running off into the living room already. Richard just stands there and smiles, then does something she never expected. Within a few seconds, he just signals her to come in and pulls her into a warm hug. Just like he did back then.

“Merry Christmas, Taylor.” he says, then slowly let’s go. “You look fantastic, have you been well this year?” Taylor is certainly a bit overwhelmed by the hug, nods immediately as Richard helps her take off her jacket.

“I’m great! How are you?” she asks, just looks around and feels the greatest sensation of ‘home’ she could ever imagine. The old fireplace in the living room is lit, she can see that from the hallway. Laughter and Joe’s voice is coming from kitchen. The smell of Elizabeth’s Christmas pie. Nothing has changed.

“Oh thanks, we’re good as always. Come in, I think Elizabeth..” Taylor walks in, when just in that moment, Elizabeth stands right in front of her. This is the moment she’s been dreading the most.

“Merry Christmas!” Taylor just stutters, feels an immense amount of relief when Elizabeth smiles warmly. The sixty year old woman hasn’t changed the slightest. Her brown hair hanging down her shoulders. She quickly places the kitchen towel on the counter and walks towards Taylor.

“We’re very happy you two are joining us.” Elizabeth says, then hugs Taylor as well. But this time, the hug is slower. More honest. Taylor closes her eyes, feels how emotional she’s getting. This place, these arms, used to be family. No matter what is and no matter what has been, she couldn’t be more thankful for this peace offer from her side. As Taylor slowly let’s go, Elizabeth smiles at her warmly.

“I missed you.” she says quietly. Taylor nods immediately.

“I missed you too.”

Just when Taylor was about to say something else, Eleanor starts to pull on Taylor’s dress.

“Mummy, mummy look! Santa Claus already left me one present under the tree for tonight.” she yells excitedly. Taylor as well as everyone else in near proximity laughs quietly at the young girl’s excitement. Just when Taylor was about to crouch down to tell Eleanor how happy she is for her, is the moment when Joe suddenly stops in front of her, pulls Taylor into another hug.

But this one is making her knees go weaker than the ones before.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” he whispers, and Taylor closes her eyes. If only he knew how happy she is to be here.

After a few seconds, Joe slowly lets go and looks at her smiley face. Her cheeks are red and she seems flushed. He knew it would mean the world to her to finally leave behind the conflict she had with his family.

“I’m glad to be here too.” she smiles at him, as Joe slowly takes her hand and walks into the living room with her. Right next to the big Christmas tree that is lit up with dozens of little lights, Taylor can see Patrick and Tom stand there with Nicole and two other people. A bit confused, Taylor just lets him take her by the hand.

“I’m so happy that you get to finally meet Naomi.” he then says, comes to a full stop with Taylor right in front of the brunette woman. With long brown hair and the most stunning smile, Naomi gives Taylor the hand and smiles warmly.

“Taylor, so nice to finally meet you.” she says and Taylor feels like someone just ripped out her stomach and put it back in again. With shaky hands, Taylor forces herself to smile back at the woman, looks more than confused at Joe. He seems so nervous, carefully places his hand on Naomi’s back, his gentle eyes looking at the brunette girl, ensuring she’s doing fine. Taylor feels like fainting, uses all the power within her to remain standing. Right here, in this living room, where she was once the one meeting family. Right here, where she was once the one being looked after by his kind eyes. The living room in which their daughter celebrated almost every Christmas so far.

“Nice to meet you too.” Taylor then brings out, is more than proud of herself for having been able to say these few words.

Shocked but more than angry at herself, Taylor looks at Naomi and back at Joe. How stupid she was, to think that his peace offer was for more than them reconnecting. He wanted to them to be civil. He wanted to finally close the chapter Taylor.

How stupid she was.

Taylor immediately looks at Eleanor, who pulls once more on her dress. Taylor never thought she could be so happy to be interrupted by her daughter, but she is. She is thankful for every second, in which she doesn’t have to face Naomi or Joe or worse - them both together.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I was so nervous to meet you, so... wow I’m really embarrassing right now.” Naomi says to Taylor, who’s now looking up at her again. Taylor swallows, fakes her nicest smile. And she’s doing quite well so far. She’s doing well, up until she sees Joe’s soft laugh, and his hand that is right on her back again, stroking her up and down.

“Tay, hey.” a young man suddenly says, and Taylor turns around. She sees Patrick standing in front of her, who hugs her immediately. He’s taller than she remembered and it’s still hard for her to comprehend that he’s no longer the shy fourteen year old she once knew, but instead a twenty- two year old university graduate. For the first time tonight, she honestly feels happy to shake someone else’s hand. Someone she hasn’t met before.

“This is Jess, my girlfriend.”

Taylor smiles at the blonde girl and then at Patrick.

“So nice to meet you!” she quickly says, then looks at Patrick again.

“Joe said you two moved in together?” Taylor asks, and Patrick nods. Taylor smiles warmly. She’s more than happy for Patrick.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tay.” Patrick says, and as always, she can still feel the truth in his words. Ever since back then, when she and Joe picked him up from his field trip, and that one evening in her rental house when she and Patrick had pizza and spoke about his heart break - ever since then, Patrick and her had a great bond. It’s not just Joe, who she lost. She also lost Patrick, his parents, this home.

A life.

Taylor can feel Joe’s glance. She can feel how he constantly looks back at her, reassuring himself she’s doing fine after meeting Naomi. And Taylor immediately feels her acting skills come up. She wants him to think she’s fine. She wants him to think that she’s untouchable, healthy, happy. That she’s moved on like him. That she didn’t spend the last hours recalling every moment of Monday afternoon.

Not at all.

To Be Continued.

#Christmasbound #lovebound #part 3 #taylor swift #joe alwyn #joe and taylor #taylor swift fanfiction #fanfiction #london #christmas #love

142 notes · View notes

imaginethisdarling · 4 years

Text

Quarantine date’s

word count: 2.2k warnings: none, pure fluff, and okay onee swear word at the end but lets not be fucking children lol summary: ehhhh date inside since we cant go nowhere

ps:hope you are all doing well, and if not i hope you soon be.

“Babe I have an idea.” Henry spoke out of nowhere. Y/n moved her head from his chest to look at him. “Considering you past few ideas, do I really want to know?” she teased and Henry looked genuinely hurt.

“I still don’t see what’s so bad about jumping from our balcony onto the trampoline but fine, then I won’t share it with you.” he pouted and moved his gaze back at the movie they were watching.

Y/n laughed but kept staring at him; she knew he would give up and tell her anyways so there was no point in getting into the movie when she will be interrupted once again.

“So, I was thinking.” Henry started and Y/n giggled. One : zero for Mrs. Y/n, Cavill.

“Since we can’t leave the house and I can’t take you on a proper date, we could have a date indoors.” Henry suggested taking his eyes off the tv to look at Y/n.

“We are kinda already having a date babe. Its called a movie date; all three of us are snuggling and Kal is really enjoying it, we are watching a movie, have snacks; both are in our pj’s. I mean it couldn’t possibly be better than this.” y/n said.

“Yeah and it is great” he raised his hand to make sure not to make it sound like he was having a bad time, “but I was thinking more of a formal date. You know, I cook, you take an afternoon off and relax, get ready in peace. That sort of things.”

Y/n sat up on the sofa and turned her body to face Henry, raising her index finger. “wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight. You are telling me that I have to get up and do my hair, my makeup, get dressed in something that ain’t your t shirt and sweatpants? Yeah buddy, I’m not sure that will work.”

Henry giggled. “come on you lazy ass. You don’t have to put makeup on for all care; you are beautiful any way you chose to be.”

Y/n stared him dead in the eyes “I look beautiful with no makeup? Right now? With this dark circles around my eyes making me look like I come from a family of raccoons really? Really henry? I thought you were supposed to be a better liar.”

Henry laughed at her response “are you calling me a liar? that’s a low blow.”

“I know I ain’t calling you a truther, that’s for sure.” She giggled back.

“Well, I just thought it could be fun, you know.” Henry sighed.

“but I’m already having fun this way.” y/n whined leaning her head against the sofa.

“Okay it was just an idea. Come here, lets finish this movie.” he said extending his hand for her to snuggle up to him again; she quickly did so.

Five minutes into the movie she couldn’t stop but feel guilty. He just wanted to do something nice for her, during this awful times. All they did all day was lay inside, cook, make love, eat some more, maybe workout but mostly cardio, walk Kal every night, watch every movie and tv show possible.

And now he comes up with a different idea and she had to be a lazy twat who isn’t willing to put on a dress for like an hour. When did she become so grumpy sounding like? How does he even put up with her? Well if that ain’t love I don’t know what else is she thought.

“fine, we will have a date tonight.” She mumbled against his chest; henry laughed. “don’t worry babe, we don’t have to it was just an idea.”

“I said we are having a date tonight so you better think what you will cook.”

Henry laughed “yes ma’am.”

Once the movie finished Henry got up making his way into the kitchen, yelling on his way “pick you up at 8 in our bedroom.” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at her silly boy.

Y/n made her way upstairs into the bathroom. While the man cooks her some nice and healthy meal, she might as well enjoy a little bath time.

Once she got inside her nice and bubbly bath she started thinking what was she going to wear. How formal should she go? He did say it should be formal, but how formal though. But also, when she brought up not wearing sweats he didn’t say she could wear them meaning not that kind of formal.

Should she wear that black dress? Naah the times are already depressed enough for her to wear a black dress. What about that red cocktail one? No, she already wore that too many times for their dates. A white one? Eh, she is bound to spill some food or wine on herself so maybe not that.

Then it dawn on her; she had a perfect dress she never had a chance to wear, so why not tonight. It was sleeveless, long coral blue dress. A deep heart neckline, slit on the right side of the dress, all the way to her hip, right side of the top covered in silk the other in fabric; decorated with a little silk here and there.

It was actually a dress her mother made, and she never even tried it, so tonight will be that night.

She got out of the bath, combing her hair; she decided to tie it up into a high ponytail with few strands of her hair left down. She decided on light makeup, a little of bit of foundation and concealer to make her look human again. Tiny bit of glitter on her eyelids and only lip balm.

She knew henry way to well; he was bound to kiss her during their “date” and he hates when he has lipstick left on his lips, so for his sake she wears none; or she just forbids him from kissing her. Easy peasy lemon squeezy

Heels. Almost went barefoot; she decided for simple, low heel silver shoes.

she put on a perfume she knew henry preferred, silver earrings, a necklace and she was ready to go. She looked red carpet ready, sadly only their grey carpet in the living room would see her.

She looked herself up and down one more time in the mirror deciding she was ready. Does she need a purse? What would she put in, her phone? Well yeah, she needs her purse for her phone.

She looked at the clock and saw it was nearly 8. C’mon Mr. Cavill, the lady awaits.

Few moments later he opened the bedroom door smiling from ear to ear. “You look gorgeous.” Henry said smiling making his way towards her, but Y/n put her hand on her hip the other one out to stop him and took a step back. “So now you ain’t even gonna knock?”

Henry stopped in his tracks, looking at her confused, “why would I knock in my own house?”

“Because, Mr. Cavill, you were the one that wanted to have a formal date indoors and formal date you shall have. So now get out, knock and make this a proper date.” y/n said with a stoic face, never cracking a smile but henry wasn’t that lucky.

He had to bit his tongue to not burst out laughing; he only nodded and exited the room.

The moment he closed the doors she could hear him burst out in laughter and she couldn’t help but join in. after few more moments of their laughter, henry composed himself and knocked on the door.

y/n walked over and opened the door, taking in his appearance. His curls were messily put on one side of his face; his face was clean shaven even though she preferred when he had a little stubble going on; he was wearing his black tuxedo.

Only then she noticed he had a bouquet of roses in his hand, where did he get those, she wondered. He smiled and handed them to her. “You look gorgeous.” He smiled and brought her in for a quick kiss.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He extended his arm and she took it, closing the doors behind her and following him down the stairs.

He dimmed the lights and along each step was a lit candle, creating a beautiful atmosphere. He smiled seeing her surprised reaction, but if she thought that was beautiful she wasn’t ready to see the dining room.

He decorated it with even more candles, adding flower paddles, which again made her wonder where he got those. On the table there were two plates, one across the other; two glasses on each side, one for one and one for water; a bottle of red wine sitting in ice; soft music playing from somewhere probably the tv in the living room, making this even better ambiance than any restaurant could pull off.

“wow.” Was all she managed to mutter out. “You really went all out didn’t you.”

“All the best for my lady.” Henry said kissing her one more time.

He pulled a chair out for her and disappeared into the kitchen, fetching their dinner, while Y/n put the flowers into the vase that was already on the table.

The smell of the food made her love it even before she saw what he had prepared.

He made her favourite dish and she couldn’t wait to devour it. They ate with a small chat here and there. Once they finished their food, he brought out the desert and she nearly melted; another one of her favourites, he knew her so well.

As they finished their desert, Henry got up and Y/n gave him a questioning look. He extended his hand asking, “May I have this dance with you?”

Y/n giggled admiring his old fashion ways; it was so sweet. Sadly, not many guys are like him left and she made sure to enjoy every gentlemen gesture he had instore.

“Yes, you may.” She replied and took his hand.

He walked them into the living room that was just as nicely decorated as the rest of the house. She was in awe, still not being able to comprehend when did she get so lucky to get herself a man like Henry.

She put her hands around his neck while he put his around the waist and they slowly swayed to the sound of the music.

She could’ve stayed like this forever, in the arms of the man she loved, she would never get bored; he was the only reason why she didn’t go nuts during the quarantine or cut her own hair.

“You know I love you right?” he asked and she only giggled. “and I love you too.” She replied.

He separated them so they could look into each other’s eyes, never losing the contact, still slowly swaying to the music.

“My whole life I felt like I’ve been searching for something; something more in my life, to fulfil me to, to be mine and mine forever. And I fulfilled that with Kal for a while, but that wasn’t enough, I wanted more, I needed more; until I found you. you spun my world around the moment I’ve seen you three years ago, in that bar, looking like a goddess in the sea of mortals. I knew nothing about you, yet I knew I needed you in my life, I knew you were just the thing I was looking for; and I went for it, and every night that I get to sleep next to you, I get to fall asleep with you in my arms, I thank God for giving me the courage to walk up to you. I never had a problem with walking up to any girl I wanted, but with you.” he paused and laughed a little, “You made me so self-conscious I nearly didn’t. but I did, and here we are today, three years later; happier than ever. I’ve never been so in love with a person as I have been with you. you make me a better man, a happier man. You get me out of the bed when I don’t want to see anyone, you make me smile when I only want to be grumpy. You make me want to live and be more, so I could be more with you. and that is why.”

he paused letting go of her, reaching his hand into his pocked and took out a small velvet box.

He got on one knee opening the box, revealing the most beautiful ring Y/n has ever seen. She was in so much shock, she just didn’t see this coming; her eyes were full of tears, her hand covering her mouth.

He looked at her, taking her other hand and smiled “I want to ask you if you will make me the happiest man alive and become my wife?”

A tear rolled down her face but she couldn’t find her voice from how surprised she was, to say that little word so she just nodded.

“Yes, yes, yes of course I will.” She said finding her voice.

He put the ring on her finger and kissed her passionately. “I love you so much.” He mumbled against her lips. “So fucking much.”

She tried to reply but she only choked on her tears so she kissed him again, providing an answer.

“Can’t wait to spend the eternity with the best woman on this planet.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry x reader #henry cavill gif #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill au #henry cavill headcanon #the witcher #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia #henry cavill the witcher #henry cavill smut #henry cavill blurb #henry cavill oneshot

732 notes · View notes

bbyboybrock--archived · 4 years

Text

You’re Home (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: Sequel to To Pluto and Back. After months back home in Bar Harbor, Maine during quarantine, you have had enough of the being away from Colby. You spend the next few driving across the country just to go home to him.

Written: 2020

Word Count: 2,754

Warnings: A lot of fluff, swearing (minor)

Masterlist

“Call me every day while you’re on the road.” My mother says as she squeezes me tight.

“I will, I promise. I should be back in La in five days, a week if I decided to take in the sights while I’m driving. Are you sure you don’t need me to stay? I can cancel everything right now.” I place my hands on either side of my mom’s face.

“I’m positive. Your brother and sister are nearby if your dad and I need help. Besides, I don’t think I can take any more of you moping around the house. Go home to your boyfriend and friends.” My mom kisses my forehead and goes to stand on the porch so my dad and I can talk in private.

“Got everything you need? Your clothes, GPS, snacks, full tank of gas?” My dad asks with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I packed up my bedroom. I have the ice chest in my car, I’m going to get snacks, gas, and ice right now. Mom packed me to lunch and a few snacks. I have all of my chargers, my spare tires, my overnight bags for when I have to spend the night in a motel. My location is on for you, mom, and my friend in LA. My wallet, phone, and all my little necessities are in the front seat along with chargers. I have the number for a tow company just in case. I also have my mace and whistle. I’m going to be okay.”

“I’m just making sure. I’m your dad, I’m allowed to worry. Here, take this.” My dad hands me a folded up bill.

“Dad, I don’t need money. Keep it.” I try to push his hand away, but he’s insistent.

“Just take it to ease an old man’s heart.” I hesitantly take the money and put it in my pocket.

“Fine. I love you guys and I’ll call you when I’m home.” I wrap my arms around my dad and kiss his cheek. He gives me a soft, yet tight hug back and kisses the top of my head. He lets go and my mom joins him as I grab my filming camera off of the top of my trunk and hop into my car.

****

I’ve been down in the dumps since I sent Colby that care package. He sent me one back after and I filmed that video last week. I’ve been moping around the house since then with the new stuffed animal he gave me. I knew that going back home to Maine to help my parents out with the quarantine would be hard, but it’s taking longer than I thought and it’s been taking a serious toll on my mental health. I only came home because my brother and sister are older with their own families, I knew they would help out our parents when they could, but I knew that they needed me to help too. The three hour time difference doesn’t help either. I’m just so used to being with Colby since I moved in with him two years ago. Being away from him truly feels like I’m missing a part of myself. My mom finally saw how sad I was being away and basically kicked me out of the house. After a few days of thinking, I finally packed all of my stuff to head home.

“Hey, guys, Y/N here! Today, I’m taking you guys with me on a road trip. To make a long story short, I’m going home to LA to surprise Colby and finally move into the house. The only one who knows is Sam, who is helping me make sure Colby doesn’t do anything rash like fly over to surprise me. Because of the virus and all, I’m trying my best to limit my human contact. Unfortunately for me, that means taking a 50-hour road trip across the country by myself. But it’ll be worth it in the end. I’m at the gas station to fill up my tank and get some provisions for the next few hours. When I get back I’ll give you guys a little car tour!” I turn off my camera and grab my bag before heading into the convince store.

I only told Sam because I figured he could be the only one to keep Colby in line while I drove. He’s been talking about coming down to Maine to stay with me for a bit, and knowing him he would actually do it. I would have told Jake and Corey, but I feel like they would let it slip that I’m coming. I told Sam that he could tell them when I’m 5 minutes from the house. I’ve worked really hard planning this perfectly so that Colby won’t suspect a thing. I pre-filmed and edited this week’s YouTube video. I made a whole bunch of TikToks all over my parent’s house so I could post a few while I’m on the road and he would think I’m still there. I took a lot of selfies and boomerangs to post Instagram and to send to Colby. I even drafted tweets in case I got too tired to think of something after a long day of driving.

The only issue is when Colby wants to FaceTime; which is every day. I could probably get away with texting and calling him for the next few days. Despite the time difference, we like to fall asleep and wake up together. Well, I’m always asleep and awake first because of the time, but you get the point. We were THAT couple for the past four months.

I get some shots of me getting gas and filling the ice chest with snacks. This is going to be a long trip, but I made sure to only get a few snacks. I did get a lot of iced coffees just in case the gas station I stop at every morning doesn’t have the brand or flavor I like. You only make that mistake once.

“Okay guys, It’s 8:30 in the morning on a Monday, and in all honesty, my goal is to be in LA by Friday. Unless I drive for 5 days straight, that’s not going to happen. I think I’ll barely make it out of Maine today. Realistically, I probably won’t be home until next Monday, maybe even later. I do want you to know that I’m going to try to be safe and smart. All of my travel clothes are light and comfortable. I’m not going to be driving more than 8 hours a day. I’m going to get to the motels around 5 pm so I can get dinner and relax. I’m going to take a break every two hours to stretch my legs, eat, go to the bathroom, etc. I have compression socks to prevent blood clots. I have no real plans for this trip. Honestly, I don’t care how this goes. All I care about is getting home to Colby. I know that I’ve been talking about how depressed and lonely I’ve been without him, but I know that he feels the same way, maybe even worse. So I’m mainly doing this for him. And bub, if you’re watching this, I love you.” I close the camera again and turn on my GoPros to get some shots of my driving.

****

“Did you hear they might extend the quarantine again?” Colby says on the other line. I’m eating breakfast in my car. I spent the night in Denver. I have two more states to drive through before I’m finally in California. The trip is taking a bit longer than I anticipated. It’s Friday and I’m a quarter of the way home. I’ve already driven through ten states, but the fact that I have about three to four more days until I can be in Colby’s arms again is what’s keeping me going.

“I didn’t hear about that. I’ve been trying to spend less time on the internet lately. That sucks. That means we’re not going to be able to see each other until like next year or something.” I can’t help by smile. Sometimes when I lie I have the urge to laugh. I’m generally good at hiding it, but I keep thinking about the look I’m going to see on Colby’s face when I see him.

“Don’t say that. This is the longest we’ve been apart since we started hanging out. It’s already been killing me the past few months. Maybe I could come down to visit you for a few weeks.” He’s been saying that so often, I’m afraid he’s going to sneak out of the house to surprise me in Maine.

“I would love that, babe, but we talked about this. I don’t want to risk you getting sick. I know it’s hard, but we need to wait this out, I promise everything will change soon. Very soon. Oh shoot, I got to get my laundry before my mom gets upset. I’ll call you tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too, princess.” I hang up and just stare at my phone for a bit. A picture of Colby that I took before I left is my lock screen. I didn’t technically lie about the laundry. I brought only a few days worth of clothes and I needed to wash them. So I grabbed breakfast near a laundry mat so I could kill two birds with one stone. I’ve also been texting Sam to keep him updated. We still don’t know how I’m going to surprise Colby. We agreed to talk about it when I’m closer to California so we don’t jinx anything. He’s had to stop Colby from buying a plane ticket a couple of times. I’m so glad that I told him or else this whole trip would have been for nothing.

By the time I get to a motel every night, I get so anxious that I want to start driving again. The only thing keeping me sane is editing parts of the video and stopping at gift shops in every state I drive through to get souvenirs for everyone. I get something specific for Colby and me and then a bunch of cute $1 items for everyone else so they can choose what they want. Our friend group is too big for me to buy bigger things for each of my friends. I’ve already spent close to $300 on gas on this trip so far.

****

“Hey, is anyone near you?” I ask Sam as I pack my stuff back into my overnight bag.

“I’m in my room and everyone is either asleep or getting breakfast, what’s up?” I hear Sam moving in the background.

“I’m definitely going to be in Los Angles today. I have four and a half hours left, give or take, until I’m at the house. Are the plans for today set?” I double-check that I have everything before heading out to my car. I load my stuff into my car and head to the front desk to check out. I pay and return my key before finally heading back to my car.

“Yeah, I mean there isn’t much we can do. Thank God the shops are finally, open. I can distract Colby by going to the mall or something. Jake and Corey are going to be home to let you in and help you get your stuff. I’m going to see where Colby is and tell them right now. Hopefully, they don’t let anything slip.” I hear a door open in the background.

“Yeah, I would definitely kill them myself if they did. Anyway, I have to start driving. I’ll text you when I’m about halfway there and then call you when I get there. Keep me updated on your end please!” I start the car and plug in the address into my GPS app.

“Will do. Drive safe and talk to you later.” Sam hangs up the phone as I readjust everything. I turn on my road trip music and get ready to get breakfast.

Last night when I was talking to Colby, I was texting Sam. We finally settled on how I was going to surprise Colby. Sam is going to get Colby out of the house while Jake and Corey sneak me into the house. They’re going to also help get my stuff out of my car. While Sam and Colby are out, I’m going to get a quick tour of the house and change out of my gross road trip clothes so I can look like a decent human. The three of us are going to hang out downstairs. When they get home we’re going to call them into whatever room we’re hanging out in and boom, surprised boyfriend.

****

Jake and Corey help me set up the last few cameras so I can get Colby’s reaction. They also helped me hide my car. Not that Colby would notice, but I didn’t want to take any chances. They showed me around the house a bit, and honestly, I almost didn’t recognize it from when I was looking at the house with them months ago. Seeing the house in person feels so different than seeing it in videos and FaceTime chats with Colby. Being here makes it real. Sam texted us saying that they were around the corner. That’s when we turned on the camera. I brought lunch for everyone so the three of us are just eating in the kitchen and catching up.

My heart is racing. I don’t even know why I’m so nervous to see my own boyfriend. Maybe it’s because I have no idea how he’ll react. I’ve been kind of giving him the cold shoulder the past few days because I’ve been driving. We haven’t talked as much as we have been for the past four months while I was in Maine. I don’t why, but part of me feels like he’ll be a different person.

“We’re home!” I hear Sam call out from the front of the house. My heart immediately drops to my stomach from nerves. I tightly grip the counter that I’m sitting on to keep myself from falling off.

“We’re in the kitchen. We have lunch for you guys.” Jake responds. I stop breathing for a second.

“I’ll be there in a second. I have to go put my things down.” Colby calls out. I’m so glad that we hid my stuff. I had a feeling Colby would go to his room first. Maybe he’s still the same Colby I left here four months ago.

Sam walks into the kitchen while putting his phone away. He walks over to me and gives me a quick hug. We all wait, whispering, for Colby to join us in the kitchen. The nerves don’t leave my body as he takes longer to come back. Eventually, we hear his footsteps on the stairs.

“Sorry I was… Y/N?” Colby stops dead in his tracks when he sees me. He blinks a few times before a huge grin creeps on his face.

“Hi,” is all I can manage to squeak out. I managed to lose my voice at the sight of Colby.

“Y/N, is that really you? What are you doing here?” Colby starts walking towards me. I hop off the counter and meet his halfway.

“I’m home,” I whisper as I hug Colby, “I missed you so I came home.”

Colby hugs me back for a second before letting go and placing both hands on either side of my face. He looks deep into my eyes and I can’t help but start to cry. I haven’t seen Colby in so long, I can’t believe that I’m standing right in front of him. He kisses my forehead and engulfs me in a hug. I squeeze him tight like he’ll disappear if I let go. I’ve been gone for so long that I forgot what it felt like to hold Colby in my arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Colbs. I missed you so fucking much it hurt. I finally feel whole again.” For the first time in months, Colby leans in and kisses me softly. Everything feels right in my world again now that I’m here. Even though I’ve been back in LA for at least 20 minutes, I didn’t feel like I was home until this very second: in Colby’s arms.

#Colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock imagines #imagine #imagines #traphouse #traphouse imagine #traphouse imagines #trap house #trap house imagine #trap house imagines #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby imagines #fluff #fluff imagine #fluff imagines #colby x reader #colby brock x reader

287 notes · View notes

ill-skillsgard · 4 years

Text

Nothing But Her - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ cheating/mature themes/strong language/spousal conflict

Note: It’s been about 2 months since the last installment of HxM, and I apologize for that. As you all well know, this year has been the topper on the world’s largest pile of shit, and I’ve tried to limit my time on the internet to not lose touch with my present reality. Aside from that, some writing burnout and adapting to the new norm posed some delays. But this is the angsty part I warned y’all about! It’s also a pivotal moment for Henry, so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Read past Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

Quarantine pushed back Henry’s court hearing. While business ground to a halt, you and Henry spent the weeks alone in his penthouse. He had his work meetings via Zoom calls and enjoyed his nights next to you on the couch watching your favourite shows. Over the weeks, you got to know Henry even better, learning and appreciating his quirks and figuring out what made him tick. It was a surreal experience living under the same roof as your lover. After years of being on your own, having another presence to fill the days with conversation and entertainment was a new, exciting notion. Even though you grew bored several times a day, Henry kept you occupied that didn’t involve rolling around in the sheets. It brought you even closer—the opposite effect it seemed to have on some of your friends and their partners.

Three months of domestic bliss oozed by, and soon, the business had to resume. Meetings had to be held in person, and you started arranging his schedule to accommodate his clients and the process of his divorce.

The rescheduled court date took place in two weeks. It was the first time Henry would go in front of a judge and explain the reasoning behind his failed marriage and why he should be granted an even split of the assets. Mary’s lawyers had already outlined her demands, but all Henry wanted was to sign the paper that freed him from her, no matter what she wished to gain from the proceeding. If she wanted the house and the more expensive car, and to sell their Summer cottage and take half the money, he was more than happy to oblige. He had all he needed when he was at home with you.

Henry was on a smooth road toward his goals until a letter arrived in the mail from his soon-to-be ex-wife’s lawyer. Henry opened the envelope and scanned the first few lines, skipping vital information before shaking his head and refocusing his attention. As Henry read, his stomach dropped. The hand holding the page shook before he balled up the paper and threw it on the floor. Anger gurgled in his chest as he took useless deep breaths.

“Fuck!” He shouted, alerting you from across the condo.

You found him in the kitchen, pacing and tugging at fistfuls of his hair.

“Henry, what’s the matter?” You asked.

“What’s the matter? The matter is: Mary just scrapped our settlement! She wants it all. Everything! She wants the condo, my car... The summer house.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, scoffing. “I thought she agreed to an even split?”

“Says right here, the settlement is up for renegotiation because there are new allegations of infidelity.”

“Infidelity? You mean?—Oh, no. Henry. What does that mean?”

He picked up the paper and smoothed out the creases, slapping it down on the kitchen island for you to read. “It means she’s coming after me because I’m with you. This will maim us. If she has proof... Oh, God. I don’t even want to think of the sneaky shit she’s probably done.”

“There’s no proof! We started seeing each other after you separated.”

“But, we hooked up before then.”

You shook your head. “She can’t prove that.”

Henry went white as the paper glaring up at you from the countertop. “And what if she can? What then?”

“You have job security, Henry.”

“I have a bad feeling,” he mumbled to himself. “A very, very bad feeling something’s up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to talk to her... Figure out why she’s doing this after we agreed to be civil.”

Your throat constricted as a grave veil fell over Henry’s face.

“Can you call her?” You asked.

“I could, but I think this would be better suited to a face-to-face conversation. Mary can’t hide anything if I’m looking her straight in the eye.”

“Well, if that’s what you think. But what if she refuses to talk to you?”

Henry threw his hands wide, shrugging. “Honestly, babe, I don’t know what’s going on in her head. She’s... She’s fucked!”

You rose your eyebrows, his cursing a testament to genuine anger. Henry rubbed his jaw, shifting it to one side until it cracked. He couldn’t keep still, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to calm down until he got the newest issue out of the way.

“You should go talk to her. Today. Don’t put it off. I don’t like it when you get in these moods.”

“Neither do I, sweetie. But I can’t just drive over there and demand she explain herself.”

“Why not? It’s still your house. You can do whatever you want.”

He weighed his options, considering your input and gave another long, strained sigh. “You really think I should?”

“Yes! Go to her now before this goes too far to fix. She can’t pull this shit and expect you to roll over and get screwed. You worked hard for what you have, and you deserve half. She’s the one who initiated the separation by treating you like dirt. Now she wants to drain you all of a sudden? After months of negotiations, she just scraps it all? If I were you, I’d go in there guns blazing.”

Henry thought it over, dreading the thought of facing Mary again.

“You’re right,” he bit his lip. “God! You’re right, babe. I have to go over there.”

“I’ll be right here when you get home, handsome. You just let me know if you need a drink ready and waiting for you.”

“Thank you, baby. I love you so much. Gosh, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I love you too, Henry. Now go on.”

~*~

The street, although familiar to Henry, reminded him of how much life had changed. He drove by the houses he used to see on his morning jogs—structures that all fit a similar style around the block and lent the neighbourhood a comforting intimacy. He remembered the first time he and Mary turned down the avenue; newlywed and eager to get their life started in a quiet alcove of town, on a suburban strip. The houses had all seemed so large and intimidating at the time, but he had struck gold in his career, and nothing was too fancy for them.

The Lexus was in the driveway. That meant Mary was home, and the impending confrontation became more real. A knot formed in his stomach at the thought of seeing her again. He knew their exchange would not be a pleasant one and prepared himself with a few calming yoga breaths—the kind his girlfriend had taught him when they worked out together during the quarantine.

“You can do this, Deaver. Just stay calm. No matter how loud she yells. No matter what she says to insult you,” he murmured after turning the engine off, sitting in the driveway until he mustered the courage to get out.

Henry didn’t try the keypad on the door. Instead, he rang the bell to not catch Mary off guard by walking in unannounced, despite no warning of the change of heart on her end that brought him to his former home in the first place. Henry respected her privacy, though he knew she wouldn’t consider the same for him. Flashbacks of Mary storming into his bedroom at the condo while his secret lover hid in the bathroom dried out his throat, and he swallowed as the deadbolt drew back.

Mary gasped when she looked up at him, closing the door slightly in her surprise, then squaring her stance and tossing her hair off her shoulders.

“What do you want, pig?”

“I want to talk.”

“That’s what the lawyers are for,” she began to shut the door again, but Henry splayed his hand over the wood, stopping it from closing another inch.

“Mary. I’m serious. We need to talk. Inside.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m letting you in my house.”

“My name is still on the house, and you have no orders against me coming here. Please don’t make this more difficult.”

Mary studied her husband’s face for a flicker of insecurity, but there was none. The months he spent in the company of a loving woman had revitalized his confidence, and her frigid glare no longer held him hostage. Henry came to Mary prepared for anything she might have left in her repertoire of vilification. She had already accused him of hiring prostitutes, embarrassed him in front of his employees and colleagues, belittled him in the presence of their lawyers and accosted him at the condo. Mary had nothing left with which to shock him.

“Fine,” Mary conceded, stepping out of his way. “Let’s talk, Henry.”

They sat down in the kitchen, old smells embedded in the plaster reminding Henry of different times, unhappier times. His eyes coasted over the stove they had purchased at Sears, the matching refrigerator, the countertop they selected out of catalogue as they sipped sweet tea in the living room and the dark floor laminate that had caused a minor argument. Though the memories were still so vivid, Henry knew not the man who’d fallen in love with Mary all those years ago. Looking at her now, it seemed impossible that he’d had any attraction to her at all. Not enough to justify the lavish proposal he’d given her, the hundred-thousand-dollar wedding and his commitment. Yet the house still possessed the comforting warmth Henry had fallen in love with when the realtor walked them through for the first time.

“Would you like something to drink?” She offered.

“No, thanks,” Henry lied, throat still parched from secret nerves.

“Very well. What would you like to talk about? And if you can keep it speedy, I’d appreciate it. I have an appointment in forty-five minutes.”

Henry sighed and rolled his knuckles on the kitchen table as she took the adjacent seat. “Why did you change your mind? I thought we had this all sorted out. You get the house, the Lexus, the boat and half the money from the cottage sale. It’s enough for you to retire on, Mary. Why are you coming after the condo now? And the Beamer? You don’t even like the thing.”

Mary pursed her lips. She had thought about this conversation many times in the last few days, and how it might play out, as she expected to hear from either Henry or his lawyer at any moment. What she didn’t expect was her husband to show up at the door, appearing composed and ready to have a mature discussion. But he didn’t know the truth yet, and she suspected, once she revealed it, Henry’s calm demeanour might shift.

“Did you not read the letter? I thought it was quite clear.”

A tendon in Henry’s neck pulled as he snorted and shook his head. “Infidelity. You think I cheated on you.”

“I know you cheated, Henry.”

“I’d like you to explain how you came to that conclusion.”

Mary pushed her chair out to cross one leg over the other, hands clasping around her knee as she gave a sarcastic smile. Henry rolled his eyes at the smug display, waiting for her to get comfortable.

“Witnesses. Timelines. Footage.”

“Footage?”

“After you kicked me out of the condo, I hired a private investigator.”

“We were already separated by then. You can’t hold that over me. It will never play out in court,” Henry explained.

Mary sniffed, flashing delight in her eyes at the chance to prove Henry wrong. “See, I thought so too, but then I started digging a little deeper, asking around, and lo-and-behold, I made the connection. It’s your assistant.”

Henry went pale. Mary’s smirk spread into a full-blown smile.

“Ah, there it is. You were always a terrible liar, Henry. That’s right. I know it’s her. I have irrefutable proof now.”

“No, that’s impossible. I started seeing her after we separated. And there’s no rule against me having a relationship with her. Yes, it may be frowned upon at work, but it’s not against policy.”

“You sure you don’t want that drink, Henry?” Mary asked, getting up to get herself a bottle from the fridge.

“I want you to tell me exactly how you think you have me cornered.”

Mary sat down at the table, looked at her watch, and then sighed. “Well, after I went to the condo to get some things and I saw the state of the place, that’s when I knew you had at least had a woman over. And yes, we were separated, but nobody knew at the time. You were still keeping it hush-hush. So, as I said, I hired a PI to find out if you were seeing somebody. At first, I heard nothing from the investigator. You two were diligent. But then, you slipped up in the parking lot on your way into work one morning.”

Henry knuckled the table, scoffing at what Mary had to say, though his heart hammered a dent in his chest. “That still won’t hold up. We. Were. Separated.”

Mary’s pointed smile disappeared in an instant. Her eyebrows came together, and the delight on her face melted into cold disdain. Henry saw that expression many times, suffered under the weight of it, and it always sent a shiver down his back.

“Oh, it will hold up,” Mary assured. “Because you made one colossal mistake.”

“Is that right? What, kissing my girlfriend because I was finally happy and in love?”

“No, you nitwit. We went to the benefit. Hundreds of our friends and colleagues saw us together. Theo and his wife sat with us all night and can confirm we were very much together. Couple that with the photos of you grabbing her ass and shoving your tongue down her throat in the lot at work, and you’re screwed. Looks like cheating to anyone but you.”

“Why the hell are you doing this to me? Did I not treat you right for our entire marriage—give you everything you ever wanted and more? I made sure you got the upper-class life and all the expensive little trinkets to go along with it. I did anything you asked of me. But still, any time I have even the smallest flame of happiness, you have to snuff it out! Why are you such a... Such a fucking bitch?”

The insult echoed through the kitchen and rattled in Mary’s head. Her eyes flared. “So you admit it then? You cheated.”

“I’d been miserable for a year and a half, Mary! After trying so hard to get you to come back to me, I was bound to give up. You despised me—you still do! And even after all this bullshit, you still won’t tell me why you treated me like a doormat for all those years.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Henry threw up his hands. “Of course, you don’t! You’re not accountable for any of this, are you? You’re just a poor little victim! You’re so opposed to me finding happiness that you had to resort to hiring some idiot to follow me around!”

“Even if I didn’t hire somebody, I already knew. I knew it was her, too.”

“Oh, yeah? And how’s that? Did you hire someone to follow her around as well?”

“Your grandfather’s pen.”

Henry tweaked his mouth to the side, fluttering his eyes and shaking his head. “What about it?”

“You never let anyone touch it. You kept it on you at all times. Even during our happiest years, you wouldn’t have parted with the damn thing. Not even if I asked to use it. The day I came into your office—after my suspicions were already high—I saw her using it. And then I remembered her face. I’d seen her before. She used to work at the hotel we always stayed at across the city. That’s where you met her.”

Henry dropped his face into his hands, sighing through his fingers. He stayed that way for a long moment; the jumbling thoughts in his head creating fuzzy chaos. Mary had succeeded. He could deny it, but Henry was sick of the lies. Sucking a breath through his nose, he finally looked back up at Mary, his eyes bleary from pushing his palms into them.

“I fucked her in that hotel. In my room. I picked her up from the bar after we drank a tonne, and I fucked her. I ate her pussy all night, and, God... She fucked me like I’ve never been fucked before. And when I went to that big conference in Paris after I asked for a divorce, I flew her out to see me there. I’ve never had my cock sucked that well before. And you know what else? I think... Once we sign the divorce papers and you take everything I’ve earned, I’ll ask her to marry me. We won’t have shit, but I know I’ll be a thousand times happier with nothing but her than I ever was having everything with you.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“No, you’re the disgusting one! You had every chance in the world to make it right with me, but you drew out my pain like it got you off.”

A gaping silence pervaded the room. Henry felt beads of sweat emerge on his back, and he swallowed, regretting his refusal of the water Mary offered. Stunned by his brash admissions, she stared at the table as though what she would say next was written in the spalted wood. The pulse in his neck choked off any more confessions, though he longed to watch her blanch from across the table a little more. Only the humming of the refrigerator filled the silence.

Mary drew in a shaky breath. “Leave her.”

The two words bounced around Henry’s head for a second before he chuckled. “Never. I love her.”

“Leave her, and I’ll drop this. We can go back to fifty-fifty.”

Henry pushed his chair out swiftly, and rose to his feet, leaning over the table so far he came a foot away from Mary’s face.

“Fuck. You. I’ll see you in court.”

#bill skarsgard fanfiction #castle rock fanfiction #henry deaver x mistress #henry deaver fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine

99 notes · View notes

punkpoemprose · 3 years

Text

December 6th- Fuck 2020

Universe: Modern AU Rating: M (Mature, a little explicit, this is porn without plot for the most part) Length: 4383 Words A/N: The title says it all. This fic is about Kristoff and Anna having sex on New Years Eve. TW: Mentions of COVID-19, quarantine, and generally the shittyness of this year. This is the last of my decades AUs. Hopefully someday someone will write something more flattering for the 2020′s.

Anna closed her laptop and collapsed back onto the couch. She was exhausted mentally and emotionally, but her body wasn’t tired enough to let her sleep. It had been what she’d been suffering with all year, or at least since March when the world had gone from its usual level of chaos to being utter and total bedlam. She still remembered the day she’d learned that her kids wouldn’t be coming back to the classroom, and the only slightly more terrifying day where she learned that they would, in fact be coming back.

Her head was still awash with words she’d never thought she’d need to say to a room full of five-year-olds. We have to keep our masks on. Remember, six feet apart guys, that’s like two big dogs in a line. No, I’m sorry, I can’t give you a hug. She’d had to separate desks, and clean and not wipe away little tears like she normally would when a child was having a bad day.

The kids, she thought, had held up better than she had. They’d listened as well as they could, they’d followed the rules as much as they were able, and they were kind about the policies in a way that even grown adults were not. But even with all the work they’d done, even with all the kids doing their best, the second wave had hit, and now they wouldn’t be returning to school until after the middle of January, and then when it finally came about, it would be online. There was talk of vaccines in the news, and while it gave her some small spark of hope, all the changes have meant turning her holiday break into lots of online classroom prep.

It still wasn’t the worst though, she’d rather be tired than sick, and she couldn’t help but relax a bit and listen to the shower running in the next room over.

Kristoff had been given the afternoon shift for New Year’s Eve, and as per their new normal, he’d stripped down at the door after returning to their apartment, tossed all his things into the wash, and was currently showering. In the beginning, before they’d known just how bad things were, before PPE was supplied to every EMT in the county, he’d caught it.

Anna had remembered the pain of having to see him so ill, watching him suffer through what was determined to be a “mild” case of the virus while he was sequestered to their bedroom and she spent the week sleeping on the couch and barely seeing him at all except to occasionally bring him something to eat when he’d felt particularly weak. There was something particularly terrifying in watching the strongest person Anna knew, her rock, her one and only, barely able to take care of himself. He’d insisted the whole time, vehemently, that she leave to stay with her sister on the other side of town, be she’d been unable to bring herself to do it. She couldn’t and wouldn’t leave him alone when he was so sick she wasn’t sure if he’d make it through.

But, of course, he had. His voice had been strange and unlike him for weeks after he was cleared, and Anna had spent many nights in a cold sweat thinking about just how close he’d been to being in much worse shape. They’d started their procedure then, come in the door, take off your clothes, wash anything that went into work with you, and then shower. She’d done it too, but to less of an extreme because while she’d been around kids who had potentially been sick, he spent every day with Sven facing the positively ill together and trying their best to keep them well enough to get to the hospital.

The mental strain it was putting on them, Anna having to worry everyday about him getting sick again, or one of her students or even herself catching it was a lot. But Kristoff, kind and wonderful man that he was, kept checking in at the hospital to learn whether the transports he and Sven had brought in had made it. She saw the darkness in his eye, behind his attempts at levity, on the days where they lost someone.

The water shut off, and Anna let herself imagine him behind the door, stepping out of the shower, putting his towel on, walking over to the mirror to shave and comb his wet hair. He’d started keeping it shorter than usual as a precaution, and while he always looked handsome, Anna missed the days where she’d been able to put short braids into his hair and then comb them out with her fingers. She missed the days where he’d come home, flop onto the couch and that would be the end of things until one of them made dinner.

“Hey,” he said, as she heard the bathroom door open and shut, “Are you asleep or?”

She opened her eyes and tipped her head, looking at him from across the room. He was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, nothing fancy because of course, despite it being New Year’s Eve, they weren’t going out anywhere. She was dressed similarly, but overtop her plain shirt, she’d thrown on her nicest cardigan, creating the illusion for the videos she’d pre-recorded, that she wasn’t on her couch in her pajamas, but instead was dressed in full teacher gear and was to be listen to closely.

“I don’t think I can do an early bedtime tonight,” she said, “Or even a nap. I have to be awake to see this year end.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t so much the sort of laugh he did when he thought she was being funny. It was much more of a chuckle, as if he were going to follow it with an expression of agreement. They both were rather done with the year, just like everyone else they knew. No one wanted to be living through a pandemic.

“Just imagine,” he said, “Maybe next year we’ll actually be able to go on a date or something.”

“Or,” Anna replied sadly, “Actually be able to reschedule our wedding.”

They’d planned a June wedding the year before. It was going to be a small affair. Just his family, Elsa, and some friends from work. They were going to have it at a ski-lodge in the mountains that also doubled as a summertime spa and nature retreat so that it would be like a vacation for everyone who attended. She could still imagine the way that they’d wanted to decorate the place, all sunflowers and mason jars and white ribbons. She had bought a dress and everything, and it was still stored in her sister’s bedroom closet.

They’d pushed it to August, but had given up on it past that, knowing as soon as September hit and she returned to school with in person students, that nothing would be changing anytime soon. Even her hope for the next year was a tentative thing, like a butterfly with a broken wing trying its damnedest to fly.

“Fuck 2020,” she said quietly, noticing the way he frowned at the mention of their cancelled wedding. He’d been looking forward to it as well, and she knew that this year had been just as upsetting for him as it had been for her. She tried not to swear very often, particularly because she was worried about being able to censor herself around the kids, but ultimately, the year deserved a middle finger and some very strong language.

He crossed the space and took her laptop from where it rested on her stomach, placing it carefully on the coffee table before he scooped her too, up and off the couch. He never had much trouble lifting her, but each time he did so unexpectedly, she was half afraid of falling. She flailed for a half a second in his arms, gasping at the change in height as it occurred.

“I’d like that,” he said with a grin, “The wedding. I know it’s just a formality, and that we’ve agreed not to do it at a courthouse or anything, but I’m so ready to call you Mrs. Bjorgman.”

“And have my students confused?” she teased, “Maybe you should be Mr. Arendelle.”

He laughed at that, but the shrugged and started walking in the direction of their bedroom, holding her bridal style as if it were already all over and done with.

“Why are we heading to bed?” she asked, only allowing herself a little hopefulness beyond her confusion. She knew why she’d like to be heading to bed, but maybe, she reasoned, he was just tired and wanted some company for a nap.

“You said, ‘fuck 2020’.”

She could see the cheeky smile on his face as he glanced down at her, still heading toward the bedroom, like a man on a mission.

“It sounded like a good idea to me.”

***

“So,” Anna said from her place below him on their bed, “In this analogy am I 2020 or?”

Kristoff laughed, and she was treated with a kiss on her knuckles as she obediently raised her arms up for him to remove her shirt. His laugh was one of the things that got her through the day, knowing that he could find humor in any situation, that she could make him laugh, was a blessing. It made things feel normal, and it was a joy for them both that they sorely needed.

“No. It’s more like we fuck each other, and we get a little extra enjoyment out of the year ending. Honestly, I didn’t think it through very much, I just wanted you and it seemed like a good excuse.”

That made her laugh, and she nodded appreciatively at the sentiment. She didn’t think that they needed to really contemplate it much as she was just happy with the opportunity to enjoy her fiancé for a little while.

“It’s a good way to pass the time until midnight,” she offered once she was free of her shirt, “I’m sure we’ll manage to keep each other awake.”

Her hands went up his shirt in return, letting her fingers travel over his the soft but muscled planes of his torso until he too removed his shirt, giving her better access to touch him as she leaned up to allow him to undo her bra’s clasps.

“It’s what? Seven?” He asked, tossing her bra in a rapidly growing pile of their clothes, “I can’t promise five hours straight, but I’ll do my best.”

His hands went up her sides, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively at the dips of her waist and across her ribs until they came up to he breasts. He cupped them gently first, and her hands moved to tracing up and down in spine in return as they found a comfortable position where she was somewhat seated in his lap, facing him. He pinched a nipple and she treated him to an appreciative moan and dragged her nails, lightly down his back.

They hadn’t had much time for intimacy as of late. Between what they both experienced at work and the stress of the holidays, even from a socially distanced standpoint, they’d mostly been using their bed for sleeping. It felt good for it to be put to better use.

“Of course, we’ll need to take a break for dinner. Maybe you’ll need a second shower with some company. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

The appreciative almost growl he made as he ducked his head down to her neck went straight through her spine and made her want to peel the rest of their clothes off and get down to business immediately. Shared shower or not, she already knew that she’d need to change her panties. If, of course, he was planning on letting her put any on before the next morning.

He squeezed and kneaded her breasts while his lips kissed down her neck and she allowed herself to surrender to his touch. Everything around her was Kristoff, his hands and mouth on her, the smell of his shampoo all she could smell as she tilted her neck to give him better access and shifted a hand up to his still wet hair. Despite him being fresh from the shower and in the cooler air of their bedroom, he was hot to the touch, exactly what she wanted as her hair stood on end from the temperature and his touch.

He moved lower then, his head ducking down to lave attention on her nipples as one arm wrapped around her back to support her leaning away and the other moved down, down, across her lower stomach and to the place where her waistband still sat.

“Off?” she asked, the word all she could form as she gave herself over to the sensation of his mouth sucking and nipping at her.

“Not yet,” he replied, barely moving his mouth from her as he answered and switched sides, leaving her wet nipple to pebble against the cold.

His fingers slid a bit lower still, under the waistband of her pants, but not into her underwear as he dipped her even lower.

His arm was strong at her back, keeping her aloft and exactly where he wanted her, even as she squirmed and bucked her hips against the hand that was moving closer and closer to her clit. She knew exactly what he was doing, but it didn’t keep her from jumping when his fingers grazed her through the fabric. He knew that she was sensitive, that he needed to work her up to his direct touch, let alone anything more. They’d had their fair share of quickies of course, but when he wanted things to last, when he wanted to see her come again and again, he worked her up first.

Anna moaned, and arched in his arms, not so much from the sensation, but from the promise it offered. He really was going to try to make this last all night long.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I ask myself the same question.”

She gasped as he slowly stroked his fingers up and down her, no doubt feeling how wet she was through her panties but not commenting on it. Instead, using his mouth to once again kiss down her body, moving from the valley between her breasts lower and lower, tipping her back onto the bed as he went.

Not to be outdone, Anna reached up to him as she was leaned back, letting her hands travel down and over his back, reaching for his rear and giving it a squeeze. He laughed against her skin, and she felt rather satisfied by the sound as he picked up the pace on her clit and kissed her navel. Her hands slipped forward then, moving across the waistline of his sweatpants, and dipping her fingers below them as he had.

It was a bit of an awkward angle, but she did her best to wrap her hand around him. It was a challenge, but it was worthwhile to hear his breathing quicken when she managed to slide her hand up and down over his already hard cock through the fabric of his boxers. She recalled the first time they had done this, what felt like many years before, but was just a little over a year and a half ago. She remembered touching him for the first time and being scared that she wouldn’t be able to take him. The thought would have made her laugh now, if it weren’t for the fact that his attention on her clit was making her gasp instead.

When his lips had kissed as low as possible in their current position, he sat up a bit and slipped his hand from her pants. He offered her a questioning look, as he always did, and Anna stroked him again in response, sliding her hand up and down his length and rotating her wrist a bit as she did so, knowing that it was what he liked.

“Off?”

“Off,” she replied, finalizing the unspoken agreement in words before adding, “You too.”

He nodded and she rubbed her thumb against his head before she too extracted her hand, giving him a small taste of what was to come. She fully intended to take him into her mouth if he would let her. It had been too long since she’d seen him fall apart like that, staring down at her with dark eyes and strong muscles trembling under the weight of his climax.

Maybe, she thought, she might even do it while he was laying down, so she could feel him under her and enjoy the building of tension in his body that always came before the release that left him panting and melting beneath her. She loved that he let her give him pleasure. There was so much he did everyday for her, all the care to not get her ill, the many nights he cooked dinner after a long shift, how he always listened to her stresses before offering up his own, and she liked to return his kindnesses in the bedroom.

He pushed himself up and off of her, pulling his pants down with one hand, using the other in a delightful display of his strength to hold himself aloft. He kicked them off a bit creatively, one leg at a time as if he were doing some kind of strange yoga, but never removing his eyes from her as he watched her buck her hips up and slide her own bottoms off.

He tossed them both somewhere to join their pile, and they were left, staring into each other’s eyes wearing nothing but their underwear.

She shivered a bit, both from the intensity if his gaze and the cool air around her. He noticed, his gaze softening as he lowered himself to her a bit and pressed a kiss to her lips. She responded by tipping her head up a bit, deepening the kiss as her arms raised up to wrap around his back and pull him down onto her.

“I’ll have to see if I can warm you up,” he said, their temperature differences more evident as his chest pressed into hers.

He was making a valiant effort, despite her pulling him down, to not crush her under his weight. There had been occasions where he’d allowed his whole weight to press down onto her, and while she didn’t exactly consider him light by any instance of the word, he wasn’t ever going to crush her quite so much as he made an excellent weighted blanket when he wanted to be.

His tone was lascivious though. There was no doubt in Anna’s mind as his hips rocked gently into hers that his plan for warming her up included more of the touching he’d just been doing moments before. When he kissed her again and let his lips trail, once more down her body, lower and lower, she knew that there would be nothing so simple as a blanket in his plans to warm her.

When he reached the waistband of her panties he didn’t stop, instead mouthing at her through the fabric, causing her to call his name and tangle her fingers into his hair. She felt his breath on her, hot, the inhalations and exhalations adding to the sensation as his lips nipped carefully at her clit. He slid down after a few moments, pressing kisses to her labia and center through the fabric, nudging her bud with his nose.

He could be devious with his mouth, a fact that she took immense pleasure in. He could kiss her mouth and pussy with equal skill, and she knew it came from a combination of natural talent, and plenty of practice with her and only her. His mouth could bring her to heights she’d never been able to reach alone, and the anticipation of him doing so had her trembling.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, glancing up at her from between her legs, seeking permission as he always did.

“Yes. Always.”

It was all he needed, flashing her a smile as he hooked his thumb under her waistband and pulled.

She lifted her hips obediently and was rewarded with an appreciative squeeze on her rear as he tugged the fabric off her. When it got to her knees, he leaned back and she set her bottom back onto her bed, watching him whip the fabric off her legs and onto the floor.

She would not be looking for them, she decided ultimately, until laundry day.

He spread her legs a bit more and rearranged them both on the bed until she had two pillows under her rear, elevating her, and he was half kneeling before her.

Once the matter of fabric and positioning was settled, he set upon her like a man starved. Evidently the foreplay had been enough for him, and she already felt it was enough for her, when he kissed her clit again, and then set to running his tongue over her. He went from the bottom of her slit, tasting her and groaning in appreciation, up to her clit, his tongue teasing at her before flattening against her, moving down, and repeating the process.

Her hands, desperate to show him the same appreciation he was showering her with, reached out as far as they could to rub just her fingertips, less artfully, but no less effectively, against the bulge straining against his boxers. His groans only added to the sensation as he tasted her, the rumbling of it tangible as he licked and took her into his mouth. The sound mingled in the air with her own moans, and soon, she stopped being able to tell who was making which sounds.

His tongue darted between her folds and she rocked her hips into his mouth. He rocked just far enough back that she could no longer touch him, and as such, her hands held onto him in other ways, one hand wandering across his shoulders while the other tugged at his hair.

He added his fingers to the business after a short while, taking only a moment away from her to watch her face as he slipped his fingers along her entrance, coating them in her before he, with trained dexterity, slid them inside her and began the search for the place on her inner walls he knew set her closest to the edge.

He got a satisfied look on his face when her moans grew louder, when she pleaded with him and thanked him for the new sensation, and it was a grin that she saw last before his face descended, again, to mouth at her clit with new fervor.

It was only a matter of time before she fell back against the bed, pillows falling from under her rear as she went stiff, then limp, under the force of her orgasm.

She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her.

***

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Anna had been somewhat surprised that they made it to midnight, both of them thoroughly spent with the amount of time and energy they’d put into their private celebration. She wasn’t counting down with the people on the television though, she couldn’t even see them as she knelt before the couch, feeling Kristoff’s tensed legs at either side of her. She couldn’t count anyway, she had her mouth full.

She’d wanted to manage to get him to come right at midnight, thinking about how funny and gratifying it would be to ensure that her fiancé, the man she loved most in the world, started the new year out right. She supposed though, as she bobbed her head up and down, her tongue running up and down his length as she breathed through her nose, that he wouldn’t mind if it was just a minute or so late.

“Anna,” he groaned, his hand on the back of her head, not pushing but encouraging her to maintain her speed, “Baby I think I’m going to…”

She hummed, keeping up her speed, flattening her tongue against him and doing her damnedest to give him the same pleasure he’d given her earlier in the day. They’d done plenty in the hours between, but this was the first time for the day, and now for the new year that she’d pleasured him with her mouth.

She hoped that the sounds she was making were encouraging as his hips rocked almost imperceptibly, his hand that rested on her shoulder tightening as the one in her hair pressed a little more than it had been.

When he came for her, she could feel the shuddering of his muscles, particularly his thighs which she was using for support, even under the fabric of his clothes. They’d only recently finally donned clothes again for the first time since dinner, and she had decidedly not let it stop her, particularly when it was easy enough to shift the fabric down enough to suit her needs.

“Anna,” he repeated, panting as she too came up for air, swallowing him.

She could feel herself flush, and saw the blush mirrored on his cheeks. He was frazzled, and when she leaned up, using his thighs for support, to get a better look at his expression, she was surprised by his dipping down to kiss her lips.

“Happy New Year Anna,” he whispered, hands already moving on her, pulling her closer as he showed her his appreciation.

She couldn’t help but laugh, accepting her New Year’s kiss as he sat before her with his pants still askew. If it was an omen for the year, she was glad for it. She’d rather the year be an amusing one than the way the previous one had been.

“Happy 2021 Kristoff,” she replied, kissing him again and letting herself enjoy the sensation of his touch before reaching down to tug on his waistband, helping him readjust before turning to shut the television off and drag him off to bed.

They’d had a long, but very enjoyable day. The perfect way, she thought, to usher in the New Year.

#kristannaadvent2020 #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #this is just smut guys idk what to tell you #it's been a year

24 notes · View notes

ninaahelvar · 4 years

Text

To Be Alone With You

Summary: As Pro-hero roommates Uraraka Ochako and Bakugou Katsuki are stuck in their apartment, underlining feelings are brought to the surface out of boredom

AO3

A/N: yes this is a quarantine au - i'm just living my fucking life and enjoying this shit also huge shoutout to @a_sassin (AO3) for being the best encouragement throughout this fic. 15k later what the fuck man.

Ochako had woken up to the swearing before she even saw the news. With the rise of certain villains, many of whom were using illegal substances to be reckless with their quirks, there had been a few different instances that made the news in the past week alone. Reading her phone, the news alert said it was two different events that caused the damage to their entire ward.

The first was a displacement quirk, which had torn up the streets and made some structures a hazard if not carefully secured. The other was a poison quirk. It had filled the main street leading to their apartment complex, and the entire neighbour had been breathing it in. In the end everything was shut down. To allow workers a chance to fix and rebuild things, their entire district was on lockdown. It happened from time to time with certain cases.

“I just want to get out of this fucking apartment!” Ochako heard the howl outside her bedroom door, then the unmistakable sound of a knife on a wooden board. Shooting up from her bed, Ochako scrambled to the kitchen.

“You aren’t touching my carrots, are you!?” she shouted, skidding into the kitchen before promptly tripping and falling just on the opposite side of the island bench. Bakugou made an obvious ‘tch’ sound before continuing to chop. “I was going to make your mum that quiche she likes,” she groaned, sitting up and rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

“Don’t be nice to the hag,” he snapped. Pulling herself up and onto the island bench’s stool, she looked at the food Bakugou was making. An omelette that smelled divine, and him in his natural state of anger, and surprisingly, amazing chef.

“She gave me a really nice birthday present,” she shrugged, leaning over to steal some of the spring onions, only to have Bakugou swat her hand, hard. He never did anything half assed. Ochako shook her hand, holding it close to her as he continued to whisk his eggs together, making yet another omelette. Ochako didn’t expect one for herself - Bakugou usually ate huge meals to bulk up for when he’d train. But from all the reports, he wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.

“What was it? What was so nice of her to get you?” he asked, not looking at her. As his back was turned, she stole her onions, chewing on them innocently, trying to get away with not answering. Then, the bowl slammed down, and her attention snapped back to him. In his hand he pointed a knife straight at her. “Ochako! Was it fucking money?” he barked. Ochako shrugged, trying to pout at her roommate.

“She heard I wanted something and didn’t want to be picky so she just gave me the money,” she explained. Bakugou rolled his eyes, moving back to his meal.

“You’re so fucking cheap.”

“You’re already sick of being in the apartment,” Ochako commented, still rubbing at the bridge of her nose. It was stiff and felt achy across her cheek under her eyes. The impact from falling threw her more than she realised.

“I wanted to go for a run, now I’m stuck here,” he grumbled before he gripped under her chin, inspecting her face with narrowed eyes, “you’ll be fine.”

“At least you have me,” she smiled before Bakugou shoved his hand away.

“Fuck off,” he said, flipping over the omelette perfectly, presenting it on a plate and handing it to Ochako. With his own in hand as he moved to the couch, irritated by the circumstances he was now stuck in, “eat your damn breakfast.”

Ochako looked down at her meal then back to her roommate. “Aw, Bakugou Katsuki likes me, he made me breakfast,” she cheered, almost to herself.

“I’ll fucking take it off you!” Bakugou snapped.

“I’m eating, I’m eating!” she shouted back, racing over to the other side of the couch, eating alongside Bakugou.

“I need an apartment,” Ochako grumbled, looking at the now empty shot glass. One apartment to the next, either evicted or they hiked up the rent every few months because of her name. Regardless of how rich or well paid people thought she was, she was still sending money to her parents, which made living on her own extremely hard.

“Why don’t you live with Bakugou?” Kirishima suggested, “You work at the same agency, and he doesn’t live far from the main office,” he offered on behalf of the blond. Ochako looked over to Bakugou, his bottle of beer hitting the bar as he scolded a look at his friend. Ochako’s mouth went dry.

“Bakugou? Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother h-”

“Whatever, I’ll text you the address,” he sighed, pulling out his phone and his address coming straight across to her phone.

“Wait, what?”

“Do you want to sleep on a fucking bed or a couch for the rest of your life?”

“A bed, preferably,” she replied weakly.

“I have a spare room that’s going to fucking waste,” he offered, before he rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “The rent ain’t cheap but I can at least help out instead of you getting evicted every fucking month and sleeping on the floor of the agency,” he started to trudge off out of the bar. “Besides, it’s cheaper for me if you chip in, fucker.”

Ochako called after him.

“Bakugou,” she shouted, only to be ignored. Rushing through the door, she caught up, grabbing hold of the arm of his jacket sleeve. “Katsuki, you don’t have -”

“I’m just saying look at the damn apartment, round face, not marry me,” he snapped, looking at her in the cold breeze of November. In the light, the plumes of air that billowed from his nose looked like he was breathing fire - if she said the wrong thing, he’d burn her alive. “Do you want to or not?” he asked suddenly, and Ochako jumped.

“I want to,” she replied without thinking, “but…”

“Fucking what?”

“Why are you ok with living with me? You don’t like living with other people. You kicked out your last three roommates, if I’m not mistaken,” she reminded. Bakugou began to walk, letting her walk beside him, his hands tucking into his pockets. Ochako held herself a little tighter.

“I know you, round face. You won’t piss me off,” he replied. Ochako sniffed, looking up at him.

“How do you know?”

“Cause I fucking do,” he said, no need to explain. He knew. So she trusted him.

After five years, looking over to the other side of the couch, Ochako wondered if he still felt the same as he did that night. It was an offer she took, going to see the apartment and loving it - even if Bakugou got the bigger room and the ensuite, she was just happy she got a room to herself. They found common ground, one takeout meal a week, and swapping meal duties every other day - though Bakugou preferred to cook rather than clean, but Ochako didn’t mind. They respected each other’s privacy, especially ignoring the visitors that came into their rooms and left when morning came.

Well, sometimes anyway.

Ochako would tease him occasionally, to which Bakugou joined, not outright insulting his overnight guests - but just something that bonded them together.

From what Ochako knew, Bakugou didn’t mind her as a roommate.

She didn’t mind him either.

From breakfast to midday, they lounged around together - which was unusual, as Bakugou rarely liked to sit still, but he had grumbled about wanting to try it, as he had to get used to the passage of time this way. He didn’t enjoy it, as Ochako stretched out on the couch, feet in his lap, and every few minutes he was squirming. Ochako rolled her eyes and kicked into his thigh when he was becoming bothersome.

Suddenly, in the middle of something they were both watching, Bakugou launched from the couch, pacing a little before Ochako got fed up with his behaviour. She could see the impatience in him, edging towards the balcony just outside their living room. Although their apartment was big, they had a balcony for fresh air, and plus Bakugou had put a punching bag out there to get some workouts in. Ochako occasionally did yoga out, when she knew the neighbours weren’t perving on her.

“And you’re -” she started, watching as Bakugou took his tank top off, throwing it towards the couch, landing somewhere near Ochako’s feet. She rolled her eyes. “We get it! You’re trying to impress the girl across the way!”

“Shut the fuck up, like I’d ever fuck horse face,” Bakugou turned to her as he wrapped his fists to protect his knuckles.

“I was talking about the flower girl, but the horse girl? That do something for you?” she joked. Bakugou grunted, fist meeting the punching bag hard enough to send it swaying lightly.

“Go back to your fucking chick flick, damn idiot,” he replied, huffing before he moved around, on his toes to manuver himself to the bag. Ochako followed his advice and went back to her show, lounging further into the couch, finding the perfect groove to get as comfortable as possible.

Ochako had to admit, she had watched from the corner of her eye, especially when her show dragged on - she always found some fascination with his workout. He had always favoured using his hands, she found, preferring to box at home when he could. He was an extremely skilled fighter, but when he could, he wanted to punch something as hard as he could.

The crush she harboured, small and burning like that of a candle wick in a pool of wax, made her stares feel more heated than she wanted. He was a remarkable case of a hero if she ever saw one, but it shouldn’t have made her mouth water. When she asked to live with Bakugou and he had said yes, she told herself to push those feelings aside - she was better than that. He was her friend after all.

Yet, she held out hope to see his body in any way she could. She marveled at his toned arms and physically amazing body. As a hero, of course. Nothing more, she reminded herself. Any time he walked past, Ochako got the faintest scent of caramel wafting towards her. When his barrage against the punching bag ended, Ochako quickly looked back to the TV, just as the credits of her movie started playing. She looked up as he walked back into the living room, and Bakugou gave her a slight nod as he went to his room and shut the door. It didn’t take long for her to hear the shower, and her attention was brought back to the TV again. Some show that had lost her attention far too long ago was on. She could catch up she supposed.

Over the rest of the day, Bakugou resorted to calling around to the agency, to check in and rage about not being in the field. If he had the chance, and wouldn’t be arrested, he’d climb out onto the balcony and launch himself to the agency himself. Hell, Ochako was considering floating herself there, and it had only been a few hours. Maybe it was because she felt like, for the first time since moving in with Bakugou, that they were too close. That her skin felt like it was on fire - because she was the only person he could possibly draw his attention to. Being seen by him always made her feel like she was in high school - nervous and crushed by a crush.

Ochako on the other hand wanted to get some much needed catching up on her social life. Her room was a mess, her finances weren’t that much different, and she needed to bring herself out of a rut - she was so focused on work, she was almost like Bakugou. She’d work out, she’d train, she’d go to work, and need to relieve tension that had built in her. Meeting people was hard - a few flings from high school kept her preoccupied from time to time, but Ochako mainly found her dates at bars. But because of her lifestyle, the job of being a hero was long and never ending - everything always seemed to end in disappointment.

After Bakugou had made dinner, they sat at the dining table, facing across from each other as they both watched a news report. Once again, Deku was there to save the day on one of his many missions. Even though the two were on better terms than their childhood, Bakugou still rolled his eyes whenever the green-haired hero came into the news. Ochako was still friends with Deku, but once again, their jobs kept them from enjoying each other’s company.

Once it was all over, and the pair was left in silence once again, Ochako arched her neck from side to side. She really should have taken a note from Bakugou’s book, tried to be more active - one day of rest and she was already feeling like she was getting soft around her edges. The sleeve of her shirt slipped from her shoulder, and it took her a moment to readjust. Once she had, she felt a heat from across the table. Looking up, her eyes met Bakugou’s.

“Want to fuck to pass the time?”

Ochako choked on her pasta, splurting out her breath as she tried to regain herself. Her face felt like it was five times redder than it should have been. She could blame it on the choking, couldn’t she? “Oh god, you’re disgusting,” she said, though her words were harsh and wheezing.

“It was a suggestion, no need to get all fucking uptight about it,” Bakugou shrugged, spinning his fork and keeping his eyes on his food.

“I get it, you didn’t get laid last night, but that’s a little desperate don’t you think?” she tried to joke, though she had to admit...it was her own little insecurity that kept her from saying yes. Ochako saw the women he brought home - the thought he’d willingly pick her was insane.

“You took so fucking long writing your damn report, I didn’t get a chance to go out,” he snarled at her, and Ochako scoffed.

“And then you’d be stuck with that girl indefinitely,” she reminded. To that, Bakugou’s face softened, realising the mistake.

“I think I’m kind of glad I didn’t bring someone back here,” he said, his fork clinking to the empty dish in front of him.

“See, my terrible reports have finally paid off for you,” Ochako beamed back a smile, to which it received nothing in return.

“You will need to get better if you ever want to work on another fucking mission with me,” he snapped, reaching over and trying to grab Ochako’s bowl. She knew she couldn’t stop him, instead, she put as much of the food in her mouth before he took it away completely.

“But we’re Zero Gravity...we’re awesome,” she mumbled with a mouthful of food.

“Keep telling yourself that, cheeks,” Bakugou said, smirk on his lips, and Ochako followed after him, helping him wash up.

Going to sleep that night, Ochako found it hard. Most nights she did, an emptiness that invaded her bed - one that plagued her for so many years. It was occupied from time to time, but it was never truly filled. She tossed and turned, wishing that she could take the night off from her brain and rest. That, however, was not in her nature, and unfortunately, she knew what she needed to do. She tore her blankets from her body and moved to the living room. The lights were still on, and on the couch sat Bakugou, foot on the couch as his elbow rested on his propped up knee.

“What the hell are you doing up?” he asked. Ochako didn’t need to ask - Bakugou always hated staying at home, too much energy in his body for him to sleep calmly.

“One of those nights,” she shrugged. Bakugou rolled his eyes and gestured for her to sit next to him. These sorts of nights happened from time to time. The first time it happened, she didn’t expect Bakugou to be so willing to stay with her until she felt comfortable to fall asleep. But he did, and after that, it just became their normal. They didn’t tell anyone - it felt wrong to betray one another that way.

“Need to rant about some shit?” he asked as Ochako plopped down beside him.

“No. Just wanted to get out of my room,” she sighed, moving against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled.

“I just…” she started, almost going to defend herself, but soon, she felt Bakugou’s arm go around her shoulder, and she knew she could stay there for a little while, “just shut up for like five minutes, ok?”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, pulling her closer to him.

She hadn’t even realised it, but just being in his warmth made her fall into a slumber that she had craved for months now.

Waking, she was pressed up in her bed, cuddled in her sheets and feeling amazing. Which annoyed her. Jumping from her bed, she raced into the kitchen to see it barren. Ochako frowned, creeping to his bedroom, and found Bakugou still tangled in his sheets, fast asleep. One of his pillows had fallen to the ground, and Ochako took her chance. Snatching it up, she slammed it down onto him. Bakugou immediately sprung to life, hands crackling, ready to attack, only to see Ochako and growl angrily.

“What the fuck!?” he roared, voice husky as he tried to wake up. He struggled against the light of morning, and exhaustion was written into his body.

“Stop taking me to my room! You can just kick me awake,” she snapped, though watching his tired form, she felt bad. What she really wanted was for Bakugou to not look after her so much - it was complicated, and made her feel like he pitied her somehow. It didn’t feel right.

“You have trouble sleeping, round face. If I woke you, I’d have to stay the fuck up to make sure you go to sleep,” he replied, an obvious tension in the air with his anger, “get the fuck out, it’s too early for this shit.”

“It’s 7am! You’re always awake,” she replied, hands on her hips. Bakugou grumbled, turning over away from her.

“Not when I don’t have work, and I stayed up until fuck early so you could get to sleep,” he snapped, trying to find comfort, but his frustrated sigh told her enough - she’d woken him up.

“I’ll make breakfast,” she said, almost turning back out of his room.

“Coffee, not breakfast. No need to set the whole damn apartment on fire,” he replied, yawning. Ochako pouted, but went to the kitchen and made sure she brewed the strongest coffee she could - if she didn’t, Bakugou may actually kill her. She knew his wrath when he was tired.

As Ochako moved around the day, fixing up her room as much as she could - rearranging it before pulling it all back together again, she felt like she hadn’t accomplished much over her day. With her hair up, strands of it falling in her face, she emerged from her room, loose clothes dangling from her shoulders. She felt exhausted, her limbs feeling like they could barely function - but years of training and being a hero, she knew she had more power in her than just moving around furniture.

Her midday meal was more like a snack, with a few sweets and an apple to feel like she was accomplished - but she wanted to do more than just moving her furniture around. From her position in the kitchen, she had the perfect view of the balcony, Bakugou doing his same routine from the day before - pummeling his way through yet another punching bag. At this rate, she knew she’d be looking online for another one by the end of the day. Yet, there was a frustration to him that Ochako couldn’t explain - sure, he was pent up from being stuck in their apartment, but the tension that tightened his shoulders, grimace on his face far more intense than usual, it was all worrisome.

Before she could go out to check, Bakugou had faced her, his features softening before they became aggravated once more. The stare made her stomach do flips, maybe a sort of fight or flight response, but she had no time to react as Bakugou stormed back into the living room and charged at her.

“I need to spar.” Without a second to process his words, Bakugou grabbed hold of her wrist, dragging her to her room.

“Wh - Ah! Bakugou you’re pulling me too tight,” she recoiled, and once he let go, he looked her over.

“Get changed, I’ll move the furniture,” he huffed, moving back into their communal space, and Ochako rolled her eyes.

“I’m not moving it back this time!” she called out, changing her top and jumping into a pair of tights.

Coming back out, slowly strapping up her hands to avoid any harsh actions, Bakugou was already bouncing on his feet, stretching out to limber up, but already that seemed to be fair easier for him. Ochako tried to hurry up, get ready for what Bakugou was willing to dish out, but even that seemed like too long for him. Before she could confirm that she was ready, Bakugou was already throwing a fist her way. Ochako leaned back, kicking up and into his stomach to give herself some distance.

It seemed like their entire spar was even - they were trading one offense to the others defense. They had made it a ground rule not to use quirks indoors, as the landlord probably wouldn’t be able to handle the repairs that would come with Bakugou’s attacks, or Ochako’s gravity. A spar with these two could end in blood or bruises, just depending on how hard they decided to go. They both fed into each other, especially in a fight. When they had first trained together, Ochako had thought she’d be frightened - but his own rage seemed to fuel her own.

They ended up fighting for roughly fifteen minutes before Ochako decided to throw in one extra attack, kicking up towards his face, only for Bakugou to catch her ankle. He smirked, allowing himself a moment to readjust and give her an impressed look.

His hand heated up rapidly against her ankle, and Ochako winced, trying to pull away. She didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but he was dripping sweat at this point, so it could have been anything.

“Ah! I give! I give!” she cried, Bakugou’s hand letting her go, and she tumbled to the ground, laying on her back. Panting and worn out, she thought she was let off the hook, but once Bakugou’s shadow loomed over her, Ochako could be in for another beating. Bakugou stood over her, feet either side of her waist, and he suddenly bent down, hovering dangerously close to her.

“You’ve gotten better,” he said, eyes narrowing in on her as though she were something to marvel at. Ochako found it hard to find her voice, her whole body feeling like it was on the verge of overheating.

“I can almost kick you in the face now,” she said, sliding up to sit across from the crouching blond.

“You could, but I’m too fast,” he smirked to himself. Ochako shook her head, turning from him and undoing the tape that laced around her fingers and knuckles.

“Ok, Ground Zero, we get it, you’re good, stop stroking your own dick,” she scoffed. She expected a round of yelling and further sparring, but from where she sat, untying the straps around her wrists, she swore she heard him growl. Ochako snapped to attention, looking over her shoulder to him. “You say something?” she asked.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he snapped, standing and moving towards his room.

“Takes one to know one,” she replied, sticking out her tongue before he turned. Before he could see it, she went tight lipped, watching him scowl back at her.

“Great comeback, remind me to come to you when I need to take down a villain with only my wits,” he scoffed, opening his bedroom door.

“Oh fuck you,” she replied, watching as he closed his door and left Ochako on her own.

Ochako showered, taking herself to the kitchen and grabbing ice. Proppering herself on the couch, turning on the television and letting herself relax and recover. The part of her ankle that was scorched wasn’t terrible - he’d given her far worse in the past - but it felt tender and in need of some rest. For the most part, Bakugou stayed in his room for the rest of the day until it was dim out, night brought in quickly, and dinner was ready to be served. Bakugou had a simple rice dish, and they ate it all quickly.

Still remaining on the couch, Bakugou sat at the other side, letting her feet rest in his lap, fixing the ice when it became bothersome. Even so, Ochako felt like something was off - that he was treating her just a little more fragile than normal. Maybe it was because of his hand on her ankle, rubbing at it slightly to ease some form of pain or tension. His fingers were delicate against her, but she noticed, somewhere in the evening, that his touch traced up her calf - as though he wanted more of her. But...that couldn’t have...

“Do you know how to leave a woman alone!” she snapped, pulling her ankle out of his grasp. Her face felt hot and her skin felt like it was on edge - if he touched her again, she’d do something she’d regret.

“What’s with you?” Bakugou snapped, looking over to her. Ochako scrambled to the other side of the couch, trying to create distance between them.

“What’s with you!? You’re being all clingy,” she snapped, half joking - but Bakugou didn’t always take care of her like he had been doing that night. It felt like he was trying

“Cheeks.” Bakugou’s arm swung over the back of the couch, looking directly at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said, her throat going dry, a shiver going down her spine, pooling in her belly.

“I want you to answer seriously,” he said, stern as always.

“You’re being really serious and it’s freaking me out,” she tried to laugh, but her heart was racing, “what?”

“Do you want to fuck?”

“What!?” she exclaimed, almost laughing, “You can’t be -” she paused. “You...actually want to have sex with me?” she started to giggle, only to think of something. “Is this because you haven’t had a girl come around here for like twenty four hours?” His expression didn’t change. He was waiting for her to answer, but all she had done was avoid the question.

The truth was, she had thought about it. Since high school, Katsuki had always been someone that challenged her - to be a better hero, to stay focused, challenged her to be a better version of herself - and through all of it, something slipped, because any time he paid her attention, it felt like she was seen. Deku had always acknowledged her, but Katsuki...he didn’t pay attention to just anyone.

She was someone.

“Do you mean it? You’re not being mean and gonna pull the rug out if I say yes?”

“When have I ever done that?”

“That’s true,” she replied. And yet, when she expected a snappy comeback, making her bite her tongue and say no - he said nothing. He waited once more. “I...” she stopped herself. It was like her heart was hammering a beat that was so fast, she couldn’t recognise the rhythm of herself anymore. “I want to.”

“What?” he said, but it wasn’t a confused question. He was trying to define it. The question made her cheeks go hot. “What do you want?” he asked, shifting up, almost leaning right across the couch.

“I want to…” she choked on the confession. “I want to have sex with you,” she confirmed, not meeting his gaze.

“Thank fuck,” he whispered, just as his hand cupped her chin, forcing her face up to meet his. In one sharp movement, his lips crashed down onto hers and his weight suffocated her own. She hadn’t expected Bakugou to be so eager - let alone kiss her. He said he wanted to fuck...she’d seen how he stumbled into their apartment - girls always wanting to be clingy, but he never let their lips touch. As far as she knew, he didn’t do it - didn’t like to.

But he should kiss women more often, because even as their lips met, she felt herself lose all sense of everything. Her eyes fluttered shut and her body gave over to his fully. Ochako slipped down further into the couch, giving Bakugou the perfect opportunity to lay his weight down onto her, hand slid underneath her back and pull her closer. His hands were hot, like they had been when they sparred earlier.

There was a part of her that knew why he was so frustrated - with the way his hands dragged over her skin, savouring the moments he could...just to touch her. He wanted to do something, he wanted to fuck. But why her? She looked a mess the last two days?

All thoughts of insecurity left her as she felt his mouth trail down from her lips to her neck, sucking at the apex of her neck and shoulder. Either it was a spot that she hadn’t realised was tender, or Bakugou’s mouth was a wonder.

Hands in his hair, Ochako moaned into his mouth, feeling a groan reverberate through her chest, his hands clinging to her tighter. Why did he have to make everything feel like she was losing her mind - sense lost and her toes trying to curl into the couch cushions, to no real gain. She wanted more of him, tearing his shirt over his head and curling her fingers into his hair and dragging nails down his back, just to pull him closer. It seemed like Bakugou had similar ideas on the matter. She didn’t need to help much, Bakugou’s hips grinding down to hers, and even through his sweatpants, she could feel a hardness that hadn’t been there before. It took her breath away just thinking about it.

When air suddenly hit her, and Ochako was left wondering what was going on, she was tugged up from the couch and brought to her feet. With a screech and a puff of air escaping her as she landed on his shoulder, Ochako was stuck staring at the muscles across Bakugou’s shoulders and back. “Where are we going?” she asked a little breathlessly, hands scaling up his back to try and get some semblance of being an actual person and not just his play thing.

“I’m not fucking you on the couch, cheeks,” he said firmly.

“We can walk there, you know?” she said, because frankly, she missed kissing him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he said, pausing his strides to bite down hard into the top of the back of her thigh. Ochako yelped, Bakugou essentially biting into her ass for his own sick game. But she didn’t care - it didn’t bother her. In fact, it made it all feel a little more wild and reckless, something she’d never truly felt before.

Without much grace, Bakugou kicked open the door and threw Ochako down onto a mattress. Bakugou’s hands went up her thighs, moving her tights down her legs, and making her hips rise to get them off easier. The action made her heart race, hands bind into her sheets - only to realise they were in fact her sheets.

“Wait, my room?” she blushed, watching as Bakugou grinned.

“You got a problem?”

“My room is never going to be the same again,” she said, voice small and worrisome. To that, Bakugou merely scoffed.

“You’re never going to be the same, cheeks,” he corrected, before diving straight back to her mouth, lips harsh against her own, teeth latching into her bottom lip as his hands roamed her body.

Hands slid up her shirt, slowly moving it up and past her shoulders, their kiss breaking for only a moment. He drew his body close to hers once more, his erection pressing up against her belly - and she couldn’t help but arching into him, begging for that length to be inside her. She craved it like she’d never craved sex before - needy little thing, desperate to be fucked.

Bakugou’s mouth moved down her body, sucking at a tender spot on her neck again before it trailed down further, biting into the cup of her bra and tugging it down with his teeth. No grin could tell her what Bakugou had in mind, as her nipple went in his mouth, teeth teasing at the crescent. Ochako yearned for more, biting at her lip as she fiddled with the clasps on her back. In a second, she flung it aside and Bakugou gathered her in his hands, eyes closing as he savoured the taste of her breast in his mouth. Ochako shivered as Katsuki growled into her skin.

It didn’t take Katsuki long to move away from her breast, biting into the sensitive underside of each before nipping his way down her stomach, hands gliding down to move her underwear down without much effort at all. When he ended up between her legs, he sucked two fingers between his lips before he slid them over her clit. For the first time since it had all started, his fingers were almost dancing - light to the touch as he spread her lips apart, teasing at her entrance just to get a rise out of her. It worked, her back arching off the bed.

His fingers went inside her, mouth warm to her clit, and Ochako felt like she was falling apart just from the small strokes he laid over her with just his tongue. With every stroke of his tongue and fingers curling to reach for the spot that would make her weak, Ochako felt herself heave - breath coming so ragged, arching from bed as she panted for a breath that didn’t want to come. It was all spurred on by the tension that was building between her thighs, her core acting like a coil, wrapping around itself and waiting to snap.

He had power in those hands, and those far beyond his quirk.

“Katsuki,” she moaned, and from between her legs his tongue and fingers froze. Ochako whimpered, looking down to be met with blazing crimson eyes that narrowed in and everything was like it was a moment before, but amplified. Katsuki’s tongue worked over her so well that she couldn’t help but fist into her sheets, his fingers pumping into her without any regard to how it really felt - it was almost torture, but one that she welcomed between her thighs.

The sound of panting and wetness were all the noises that ran through the air. At first, Ochako bound her hand in Katsuki’s hair, but she felt like she was losing a fight over and over again with the combination of his tongue and hair. Every few seconds, she gripped hard into her bed sheets, feeling the rising tension in the pit of her belly, before long moans left and her hands fell apart.

The back of Ochako’s hand met her mouth, trying to soften the cries she was creating, only to have Katsuki snatch it away. “Don’t cover your fucking mouth,” he snarled, “scream for me, cheeks.” It was a demand. If she didn’t, he’d be making her life misery - or worse, he wouldn’t finish what he started.

“Kat…” she stuttered, “Katsuki!”

“God you’re so beautiful when you scream my name,”he mumbled, licking over her sensitive skin.

“You haven’t even fucked me yet, you think I’m done screaming?” she panted, trying to be confident, but that only spurred him on - making Ochako weak in comparison.

Binding and unbinding her hands proved to be an exhausting effort; it felt like she was pouring all her effort into not reaching her climax. With Katsuki’s eyes staring up at her as she was coming undone, she felt like she needed to prove she could last - but he was proving to be a master at everything he did. At the end of her rope, climax mounting so quickly, Ochako’s back floated up from the mattress. Her thighs squeezing around Katsuki’s ears, her breath coming in short bursts until it Katsuki became her undoing - teeth scraped at her clit, and she was gone, falling back down to the bed.

In a massive explosion of noise, they fell to the mattress, and Ochako just tried to gather her breath back - feeling lightheaded and out of her wits to function normally.

“I think you’re going to need a new bed,” Katsuki laughed, and Ochako lazily got up on her elbows. Her bed frame was destroyed - repetitive elevations and hash releases cause the poor legs to snap and the mattress had fallen to the ground in its wake.

Ochako looked around, stunned, combing her hair out of her face. “Did I -”

“You’ve never done that before, huh?” he smirked.

He sounded proud, and her heart twisted - what the fuck was he doing to her?

Katsuki sprung up, gripping the back of her neck and forcing their lips together. Oh god, the taste on his lips was her, and it made her stomach feel like it was full of butterflies. She’d never been treated like that - like she was something to savour and taste, to be adored and wanted. Sure, she’d been eaten out before, but fuck, why did Katsuki have to make it feel like it was something entirely new to her.

“Katsuki,” she moaned. When he attacked her neck again, biting down and kissing her roughly, she realised one thing was for sure - his name had power over him, and the way she said it fuelled him to act like an animal. She loved taming the beast in her bed. Bringing her hands up to his face, she forced them apart to stare back at those eyes, red and frightening to everyone else but her. “I need you inside me,” she panted, mouth ajar, frantic to be kissed again.

Not needing any more convincing, Katsuki pushed his pants down, boxer briefs following after, kissing her all the while she reached in between them. Her hand was on his cock, stroking it with tentative fingers, swiping the precum over the tip just to hear him groan the way she wanted to. The noise poured into her mouth and she felt like she was in heaven - perfection was on top of her, and it was about to be inside her. “You got anything?” he asked, an impatience to him. She nodded, trying to get to her bedside table, but Katsuki was ahead of her, fumbling through her drawers and finding the condom amongst the mess.

Ochako was lost in lacing his shoulders with kisses and bites that she didn’t realise how quickly he put the condom over his shaft - the only reason she knew he had was because he thrust into her so fast and hard, she lost her breath. Head falling back against her pillow, she clutched around the back of his neck, legs binding around his hips as they remained still.

Katsuki breathed into her chest, sighs so hot that it felt like he were setting her breasts alight. Her chest rose towards it, aching for the warmth. No convincing needed, teeth scraping over the top before he recaptured the nipple he had favoured before. As they clutched to one another, his hips slowly started to roll and Ochako held on tighter, gasping in tight breaths. “Don’t stop,” she begged, voice so much higher than it normally was.

“Like I’d ever,” he replied in a growl, his cock almost slipping out entirely, only his tip left inside her, before he charged forward. Ochako cried out, nails purposely digging into his back. Katsuki groaned, his pace evening out to allow them both the feeling of...well...all of it. It wasn’t long before the feeling that had erupted in her only a few minutes before was building again. Every thrust that Katsuki gave to her made her roll her hips, trying to meet him - build the small friction between them further.

With his mouth leaving her breast, he went back to her lips, panting every few thrusts. Ochako hadn’t realised how fragile he’d sound - some desperate hidden in him, whatever he was feeling was getting so much deeper with every movement both of them made. Her hips bucked against his, chasing the feeling faster than she could have thought she could, moaning in his ear until it came flooding over her so fast, she hadn’t a chance to even scream. Her teeth went tight as the tightest whimper left her, hips unable to move and thighs clinging around his hips - all the while, Katsuki worked wonders over her, his pace faster than it had been before.

“Fuck,” he breathed, stealing her lips briefly, forehead resting against hers, “you are so fucking tight. So beautiful how you take my cock,” he moaned, and another thrill went through her, edging at the spot where his tip ended up. He was burying himself inside her, relentless and god so fucking amazingly. She whined before kissing him again, making it last and moaning to suffocate her pleasures onto his lips.

“God, just fucking scream for me, cheeks,” he said, hand moving up from her back, and slipping delicately over her throat.

“Oh, Katsuki,” she whimpered, hand gracing over his, tightening his hold. He growled into him, eyes focused on hers as he pounded into her without mercy. Not that she’d want it - she wanted to be ruined by his cock - the only thing that would ever truly satisfy her again.

“You like my cock that much, huh?” he said, breathing becoming more ragged than ever.

“Yes. Oh god, yes, keep fucking me with that huge cock, Katsuki!” Her words were not her own, something deep inside her pulled them from her lips - and god did it work wonders for both of them - a frenzy of hips, their pace erratic, both chasing down their orgasms, fighting for the ending they so rightly deserved.

Every exhale was a moan, begging for her release, and when she thought she couldn’t get anymore desperate, Katsuki’s hand slipped in between them and circled his rough fingers over her clit. From there, her moans only became sharper, every noise she made from inhale to exhale was on the edge. She was clutched into his bicep, watching as he grunted, sweat dripping from his hair, and body arching into hers so beautifully, she thought he had to be thinking of someone else - there was no way he saw her and could perform so fucking well. He made her a screaming mess in such a short amount of time it was ridiculous.

“I’m gonna..” she stuttered, her chest rising from the bed, hips jutting out to meet Katsuki’s thrusts. His hands slipped from her body completely, binding in tightly to the mattress. Ochako replaced his hand, continuing to stroke her clit. “Oh god, Katsuki, I’m gonna cum,” she squeaked, his lips at her jaw, not silencing her how she thought he might. The realisation dawned as her moan ripped through her chest and sung from her lips - Katsuki wanted to hear her scream. She moaned his name over and over again, just as she heard the faint sound of crackling beside her.

As she heard Katsuki grunt, long and wheezing into the side of her neck, Ochako realised what had happened. In one blinding action, Uraraka’s mattress went up in flames and exploded across her room, sending the pair to the ground. They both grunted, forced apart by the impact and laid out on their backs in the aftermath of what they had done. Ochako panted, holding her hand to her chest, trying to see if she was in fact breathing or she was playing dumb. It was hard for her, in that moment of pure ecstasy, what was reality, and what was her euphoric afterglow.

“Wow,” she panted, arms laying over her chest. After the heated encounter, she didn’t expect to so so bashful - but it had ended, and they were themselves. Being naked in front of him was far too indecent now.

“You bet your fuckin ass ‘wow’ cheeks.”

“I’ve heard the girls that come in here, but I get it now,” she admitted, cheeks flushed with a confession and exhaustion. Katsuki moved, pressing up to her side to look down at her, moving the strands of hair that had fallen in her face.

“Is that right,” he asked with a smirk.

“Oh shut up,” she said, shoving his shoulder. “How the fuck did you learn to fuck like that?”

“Practice,” he shrugged, lying back down, hands underneath the back of his head when he relaxed, “you don’t need any,” he said, looking back over to her. This time, Ochako rose, looking down at him, resting on his chest.

“Really?”

“You can’t be that fucking dumb to think you aren’t good,” he said, hand going to her face, thumb pinching at her cheek. She snagged it away but couldn’t help but keep smiling down at him.

“I’ve only had sex a few times, it isn’t like I would really know,” she admitted.

“You need better fuckbuddies,” Katsuki scoffed.

“Like who?”

“Me.”

Ochako’s cheeks went hot in a flash, not knowing if he were serious or not. “Ha!”

“I’m serious,” Katsuki replied, voice unwavering. Ochako glanced over, feeling a smile slowly creep onto her lips.

“Round two?” she asked, a slight inkling of hope coursing through her.

“Ten minutes,” he said, not even missing a beat.

From the corner of her eyes, there was something she had been ignoring, but it was getting a little out of hand now.

“I’ll get the fire extinguisher,” she said, finding her shirt on the floor and slipping it over her shoulders as she moved out of her room. Living with a hothead - quite literally - a fire extinguisher was a handy thing to have around. And her mattress was charred and essentially in pieces of its former self, were still ablaze from his damn quirk.

“Oh fuck,” he said, calling out to her once she was out of the room. “You think amazon or some shit sell mattresses?” he shouted, and Ochako only giggled, finding the extinguisher hidden underneath the kitchen sink.

Maybe everything didn’t end in disappointment after all.

~*~*~

When Ochako woke the next morning in Katsuki’s bed, his arms curled around her after what would have been their third - or was it fourth? - round of fucking over the apartment, she was sore. In between her legs was tender, and her throat felt hoarse after screaming most of the night. Glancing to the blond that slept in such peace, Ochako felt her chest flutter, knowing she was one of the few that had ever truly seen it. Pursing her lips, she crept out from underneath his arms and tenderly took steps out of his room.

Once she got clear of his door, she went to her room and dressed in loose clothes. She tried to put on a damn bra but found even that was restrictive - her whole body was on edge, everything that touched her body seemed to set her off, even her underwear was proving to be somewhat uncomfortable.

She wanted to brew some coffee, but her legs failed her and she ended up on the couch, lounging on her stomach to ease whatever tension had built in her body. No villain fight could compare to the workout that Katsuki had put her through. She was practically a dead woman walking.

It was only a few minutes later that Katsuki came out of his room, rubbing at his eye with the heel of his hand. Ochako picked up her head, smiling sheepishly towards him.

“Morning,” she mumbled, resting back onto her arm. Katsuki moved around the kitchen - or at least she thought he did - so when his hands ran up the back of her thighs, moving her shirt over the slope of her ass. “Katsuki, you cannot be that eager,” she laughed, gasping as he pulled her underwear up to rub it against her slit. She mewled, sighing as he let the pressure wane. He kissed a cheek on her ass before he hovered over her, pressing down into her back. She gasped feeling the hard length that had been inside her many times over.

“Wanna take a fucking bet,” he said, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. Katsuki moved back between her legs, face diving back to her wet lips between her legs, pulling aside the underwear, only to snap the band completely and tear them from her body. Ochako didn’t care, the excitement urged her on to a point where she didn’t mind whatever Katsuki did to her.

Her hips jerked up to his mouth, his satisfied grin printing into her cheeks before his mouth started to devour her yet again. Ochako gripped into the cushions, trying her hardest not to grip all five fingers, but with every stroke of his tongue, Ochako was left speechless and gasp for air, her purchase in the couch was her only saving grace. It wasn’t long before his tongue was getting her off, calling out his name in tiny sighs, almost floating the couch with how much she wanted to grip into something.

“So now you’ll fuck me on the couch?” she asked in a giggle, trying to regain her breath, but as Katsuki’s hand replaced his mouth, two fingers slipping inside her with ease, she was rendered his little plaything all over again.

“I’ll ruin you in every room of this apartment, cheeks, just fucking wait,” he said at the back of her ear. Ochako whimpered before feeling him shift his weight - over her shoulder watching as he found a condom in the drawer of the side table and sheath it over his length. A moment later he was teasing at her slit, only to sink in, rolling his hips to enter her in a slow - almost agonising - way. Ochako moaned, clutching at his wrist that bound into the couch cushion she rested on.

She wondered if he was just allowing himself a moment to get her used to him. When they first had sex, it was frantic and wanting, neither of them completely caring about the other - just trying to reach their own ends to wind the night down. Or at least it was supposed to be. It wasn’t Ochako’s fault that Katsuki had a dick like a greek god and he knew how to use it like one. Maybe Ochako wasn’t that bad either.

It wasn’t until Katsuki’s hips withdrew from hers and snapped back as violently as possible that Ochako just wanted to see how far he could push the moans that escaped her. When she felt his cock go as deep as it did, she squealed, long whining and pitch like that of an opera singer. She had never been fucked so thoroughly and she enjoyed every second of the little tortures he placed on her body.

“Take my cock so well,” he murmured, kissing her neck and Ochako sighed, loving his length pressing up to her core, “love hearing you moan, every time I fuck you hard,” he praised and everything in her wanted more. Begged for it.

“Yes,” she sighed, holding tight to his wrist, “harder,” she pleaded.

“You want it, you take it,” he said, his chest leaving her back, and she whined from the lack of warmth that he had been radiating. He jerked her hisp back, making her sit back on her heels, and she glanced over her shoulder, watching as Katsuki sat back - completely relaxed and waiting for her. Ochako bit her lip. Flinging the shirt over her head, she swivelled around, knees moving to either side of his hips and hands on his shoulders.

Katsuki positioned himself perfectly so as Ochako braced down, he filled her evenly and made her head fall back. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to sit back into his length entirely - she wasn’t sure if she were scared to or if her body wouldn’t allow it - but the small breaths he gave of frustration kept Ochako going. Katsuki’s hands went around her back, pulling her close and his mouth descended on her chest, peppering kisses to her skin and nipping over the sensitive buds on her breasts.

To aid Ochako, Katsuki’s hand slipped from her back and moved to her ass, making her swivel her hips every time she came back down onto him. She gasped, not realising how fucking fantastic the sensation really was - and the way Katsuki groaned, baring his teeth as he watched her move made her feel powerful sitting upon him.

His hands were so tight in her ass cheeks, she knew she’d have bruises there the next day - but the action only spurred her on the more. She wanted him to ruin her like all the times he promised, the call to it feeling so natural, she’d willingly go to it once it finally rang out to her.

“Yes,” she sighed, mouth ajar as she breathed in harder and harder.

“You like that, angel face?”

“Fuck,” she swore, trying to regain her composure enough to look him in the eye - but it was so damn hard. When she finally did, the red that stared back made her go weak, unable to keep her pace. To that, he slammed her down hard into his lap, making her take him to his hilt. “yes, yes I like that,” she moaned, her head flying back. Katsuki forced her back up, hand on the back of her neck, making her look at him.

“What do you like?” he said, a smirk on his face. Ochako bit her lip, moving to a pace again, but she was becoming more frantic, just as Katsuki’s hand released then bore down onto her ass cheek in one thunderous clap. She moaned, tight and hands binding to his shoulders - nails dragging in skin. He chuckled, doing it again and she cried out once more, her brewing orgasm on the rise, and by the way Katsuki was thrusting up to her, she could tell his own was coming soon too.

“I like when you slap my ass and fuck me hard with your cock,” she replied, hearing him moan, face as her sternum as he tried to suffocate his moans into her skin, “shit,” she cursed, trying her best to keep up her stamina. If he could, so could she. But it wasn’t much use, as she wanted to be wild, to get there before he did - she didn’t care about winning, she just wanted to reach her climax so spectacularly, maybe he’d fall apart too.

Each time she sunk down onto him, taking him fully and without restraint, Katsuki’s moans were louder than she had ever heard them - grunts and moans that could be like tearing a man apart. With every noise he made, it kept her going - and made her feel like she was so fucking special, she wanted to bring him to his edge and have him -

Before she could even think about it, her orgasm came, clamping down on his length and had her clawing at him for safety. Katsuki bucked up, holding onto her as he came hips still before pumping into her a few times, though slow and hard. They came together, making each other their own weakness.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips jerking up and making Ochako jump in his lap. She tried to ride out their orgasms as easily as possible, but she’d twitch and have to rest her hand back on his thigh, trying to not get carried away. He just kept doing things to her that she didn’t realise were driving her to be a mad woman in bed. Or on the couch, for this instance. “You could kill a man with a pussy like that,” he moaned, head leaning back. Ochako kissed at his pulse.

“I think I just did,” she laughed, to which he moaned, holding her close and not wanting to leave her. Even as he softened inside her, Ochako still didn’t want him to leave.

The rest of their Wednesday they spent either fucking or eating.

The same could be said for their Thursday, always ending up in Katsuki’s bed with messy hair and limbs too tired to be functioning anymore.

Yet, Ochako found that waking up beside Katsuki was a beautiful thing - and maybe, quite possibly, she had been the only woman to ever see it. Who had ever stayed the night to see him so thoroughly worn out, he was a beauty in the bed beside them? Ochako felt like she had been the only one. On Thursday, waking before he did, she curled into him more, sleeping soundly to the sound of his heartbeat.

It also didn’t hurt that when she woke up again an hour later, Katsuki was once again between her legs, eating her to perfection to wake her up.

She really loved waking up to those crimson eyes.

~*~*~

Ochako felt like she’d never had so much sex in her life. When they had started, it was a Tuesday night, and it felt nonstop to that Friday morning. Even as she showered, there was an inkling between her thighs that begged her to go back to the bed and start where they had left off the night before. Yet, her legs ached, the junction between her thighs was so tender it felt like it had been bruised.

“Hey! Stop wasting water,” Katsuki barked, stepping in behind her. She had jumped at the sound of him, but sighed once she saw him. Ochako stepped aside, allowing some of the spray to hit him. By just doing that, she noticed the erection that made her mouth water.

“They’re not going to turn off the hot water,” she said, clearing her throat.

“You don’t know that,” he murmured, grabbing hold of her waist.

“Katsuki,” she whined, feeling his hands roamed, fingers edging at the crescent of her breasts, ready to play with her some more. She really didn’t know how much more she could take.

“Anyone ever tell you, you look so fucking beautiful when you cum?” he whispered, making her purr. She hated the sway he had over her. A few days of fucking her senseless really wore her down - in more ways than one.

“I’m still tired, you really wore me out,” she complained.

“I can wear you out more, bury my head in between your legs until you’re screaming my name,” he said, pressing a kiss to her neck. Swatting his hands away, she moved out of the spray to allow him in.

“Keep your hands to yourself mister,” she warned.

“Fine,” Katsuki pouted, getting completely under the spray, lathering himself up in the process. Regardless of the cold air that touched her, Ochako felt like she was on fire. Temptation won her over and she wrapped her arms around his back, hand moving down his stomach to take hold of his cock in her hand. “Wh-” he started, and Ochako pushed her chin up onto his shoulder as he looked over to her.

“I said hands to yourself, I didn’t say anything about my hands,” she teased, pumping her fist over him a few times, slow and knowing it would be agonising to do so. He was a girthy son of a bitch, probably one of the reasons Ochako was so sore, but to take him in one hand was harder than she thought. Instead of worrying, she continued to draw her fingers over him, again and again, watching as his mouth hung open and his hands crashed against the wall of the shower.

“Fuck,” he moaned, watching her hand stroke over him so well. She chewed on her lip as she watched him

“Hands to yourself,” she reminded.

“You’re gonna make me bust the damn tiles, cheeks,” he said, planting his hands back to the wall, though she noticed the tension in them now; what he’d do with those hands if they could grip into her soft skin, only the bruises that were on her currently could say for sure.

“We’ll get them replaced,” she grinned, watching him and panting slightly, because watching him fall apart was so fucking amazing. “You’re being such a good boy,” she said, losing herself to the moment.

“Oi, knock it off,” he grunted, but his head fell forward, teeth latched hard into his bottom lip.

“Only good boys get to have my mouth around their cocks,” she teased once more, “do you wanna be a good boy, let me touch you anyway I want?”

“Y-yes,” he choked before he growled, “fuck.”

“Do you want me on my knees for you?”

“Yes,”

“Then beg.”

“What?” he said, almost spinning to her. Ochako’s grip got tighter, pumping him a little faster than she had been before. “Why the fuck shoul - oh, fuck,” he grunted, the small popping sound giving away that he was nearing his limit, especially when Ochako saw the crack that had now formed in the tiles.

“If you want me, on my knees, letting you have your way with my mouth, you have to beg for it,”

“No,”

“Then we’ll just leave the bathroom and pretend like none of this ever happened,” she said, releasing much of her grip and stopping her motion completely.

“None of what?” he asked, fear at the edge of his words.

“Any of it,” she shrugged, looking at him with a soft pout.

“Ochako,” he said, the word choked at the back of his throat, “please,” he said through grit teeth.

“Please what?” she asked, grinning - knowing she was winning. She finally realised how it must have felt for him.

“Please suck my cock,” he begged, and Ochako kissed his shoulder, moving around him as he switched the water off, Ochako landing on her knees as the water drained out of the shower. “Fuck, you look so fucking good on your knees for me,” he said, hand going to her hair.

“Wasn’t I the one that’s meant to be praising you?” she said, continuing to pump his length.

“You’re gonna be letting your mouth do the talking any second n-” she didn’t even give him the chance to continue before her mouth enveloped his cock, “Holy shit,” he grunted, throwing his head back.

Her tongue swirled over him, taking him as far back as she could before she released him, pressing a kiss to his tip, licking at the precum that seeped from the head. He was so fucking hot when he was at her mercy - and it made her feel like she was dripping wet. She wanted to touch herself at the sight of him, instead, she focused on him, taking him and bobbing her head to the length he had.

His hand gripping hard into her hair, his own will guiding the pace he wanted rather than the other way around. Her tongue danced over him, sucking and caressing him in all the ways she knew how. She felt like she was pulling out all her tricks for him, but wasn’t sure if she was doing enough.

“No!” Katsuki shouted, tearing her shoulders back and hoisting Ochako to her feet. Fear flooded her, hot disappointment running through her belly. “I’m fucking you if it’s the last thing I do!” he shouted, tugging her up to wrap her legs around his waist and his mouth crashed onto hers. The fear that was once there was gone, and accomplishment took its place. Katsuki took them out of the bathroom and went to his bed quickly, tumbling down until he was on top of her, cock primed at her slit.

“I ain’t gonna last long,” he said, and Ochako knew he was selling himself short. He could last, but the way he looked at her - he didn’t want to.

“Just cum for me,” she said, panting, waiting for him to be inside her. “I love good boys that cum inside me,” she said, knowing what she said, but not fully sure she meant them.

“Fuck,” he groaned, grabbing hold of her hand and pressing it to her clit, “touch yourself.” She complied with his demand and he dove into her without much grace, just a desperate need to fuck her. She loved it, arching off the bed as he held onto her hips with urgency. His pace was insane, unlike anything he’d ever done in the past few days. She felt dizzy, her ecstasy so close, her fingers aiding him to their mutual ends.

“Right there,” she moaned, hearing him grunt with every thrust, her toes curling as her thighs held tight into his waist. “Oh god, yes, you’re such a good boy with that hard cock,” she cried, hand on the back of his neck, eyes locked, “fuck me harder.”

“Yes,” he said, softly, almost as though he were praying to her, “fucking always,” he moaned, stealing her lips as her fingers worked over her faster.

“I love…” the words caught in the back of her throat. She wanted to say it, wanted it to be free of her - but lust was spurring her on, she didn’t want him to think of her like that; caught up in sex and led her down to feelings. “I love your cock,” she said, her brow pinching together as she felt herself at the end of her rope.

It didn’t take long for Katsuki to pour inside her, stilling over her as her fingers got her to the end. She cried out, clutching to the back of his neck.

Ochako knew she shouldn’t have let it happen so fast, to let him cum inside her like that, but she didn’t care - after everything, she wanted to feel him as fully as ever. He was amazing, and feeling him pour into her, so warm and filling, she craved it more. Falling to her side, Katsuki chuckled to himself.

“Since when do you talk like that?” Katsuki asked, panting on his back.

“Like what?”

“Like the shower,” he asked, looking over to her. “I’ve also heard the guys you bring home, and you’ve never gone all mistress dominatrix on them,” he said, and her cheeks felt red hot.

“Maybe I did it when you weren’t here,” she shrugged, but he was right, she’d never done it before - be brought something out in her that she liked.

“We both know that the guys you bring home only wanna fuck you cause you’re Uravity, they don’t wanna please you,” he laughed looking back up to the cieling. Ochako frowned, his words hurting her more than she realised they might.

“So, I’m not appealing outside of the fact I’m a hero?” she asked, not looking at him. She was afraid of herself in that moment. What she’d do. What she’d say.

“What? I didn’t -”

“No, you said that I’m only fuckable because of the hero name I have,” she said, biting her lip and refusing to look at him. Ochako stood, moving out of his room, snagging one of his shirts and letting it drape over her as she left. Bakugou fumbled after her, jumping into his sweats.

“You’re getting all worked up over something I didn’t even say,” Bakugou said, reaching for her and spinning her to face him. When he looked at her, his anger softened, chest shimmering from the rage he had just been hurling. Ochako felt her bottom lip wobble as she looked at him.

“Then what the fuck did you mean! Because to me it sounded like you’re saying I knew they wanted me as Uravity and only wanted to fuck them back,” she shouted.

“I’m not talking about this when you’re so -”

“Fuck you,” she snapped, readying to go to the front door but found it was a dead end. “I can’t even storm out of my own apartment because of that stupid fucking villain,” she screamed, going to her room and slamming the door behind her.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He didn’t mean it like that.

But what if he did? What if that was all this was? Every moment where she thought she was cherished, that she was wanted beyond what all the others were, was just like the rest. Every look changed, every moment with him felt tainted by her own anxiety.

From behind her back, she felt the door shift, as though something were resting on the other side. That was when she felt a sob leave her - unable to contain it anymore. It was her imagination - that Bakugou would be on the other side, longing for her as she did him. Letting herself crouch down onto the floor, she held herself tightly, containing the cries from the silence of the apartment.

Soon, she heard Bakugou’s door slam.

She was right. Everything did end in disappointment.

For the rest of the day and night, Ochako stayed in her room. She went out for food but even then she ignored Bakugou if he were around. But when the night was winding down, she realised she needed to go sleep on the couch. Her bed was completely destroyed and sleeping on her floor was not what she wanted to when her body was so tender.

A knock came to her door at the time she thought Bakugou was disappear into his room and she could sneak out. Instead, she curled herself up and faced away from her door.

“Oi, come to bed,” he grunted.

��I am in bed,” she said, bringing her knees up to her chest.

“You’re on the floor where your mattress used to be,” he said, though it was a fact that she was acutely aware of.

“Whose fault is that!” she spat over her shoulder.

“It’s mine,” he said flatly. Bakugou was closer than she thought, especially when she heard the shifting of clothing, Bakugou obviously bending to her side.

His hand rested on her hip, the warmth of it so welcoming as it had been all the days before. She wanted so desperately to fall into it - to be his, but he didn’t want her like she wanted him. He wanted something to fuck. She wasn’t wanted, curling herself tighter.

“Oi,” he started, hand gripping tighter into her hip. She shifted uncomfortably, torn between her pride and her desire. “You know I hate silent treatment shit,” he said, and she did know. She didn’t know why she was taking it out on him - she was just frustrated. “I normally like it when people don’t talk to me, but not you,” he said, voice quiet.

“Just go away, Bakugou,” she said, though her body didn’t want him to. She didn’t want him to.

“I didn’t mean you weren’t...desirable,” he said, but the word was foreign on his lips, as though he hated even saying it. “I meant…” he stopped, and she looked up, his gaze away from hers, as though he were thinking - formulating the right words. “I meant that they didn’t appreciate you. You’re a hero, and they wanted the woman you are,” he said before a growl, almost spitting the words that had come from his mouth.

“Bakugou…” Ochako turned to him, his hand remaining on her to slip up to her waist.

“They didn’t take their time with your body,” he said, looking her over, hand tightening as though he were holding himself back - that the wanting of her was almost unbearable, just touching one part of her was not enough, “they wanted to fuck you, but they didn’t want to bring you to the edge, have you screaming their names. I want you to always scream my name,” he said, voice husky, dragging out as he looked at her.

“Katsuki,” she said, rising up to sit across from him.

“Say it again,” he asked, eyes hopeful.

“Katsuki,” she said, his forehead leaning against hers.

“They wanted to fuck you, but they could never get you off like you wanted. Never asked what you wanted to do,” he said, his other hand going to her free waist, holding her so delicately, like she’d break if he held her any tighter. “You like to please, but want to be in control of it, don’t you, cheeks?”

“Katsuki,” she said once more, her voice coming out like a whine, begging him to come back to her.

“I don’t like saying what I mean, I hate it. But I’m...sorry, if it hurt you or whatever,” he tried, to which Ochako giggled.

“You’re a real charmer,” she replied.

“Fucking, fine! I tried to -”

“Take me to bed,” she interrupted.

He didn’t need anymore encouragement. Katsuki’s hand slid up her thigh, dragging her into his lap, their lips barely parting. Gripping around the back of his neck, her legs tightening up around his hips, they were bound together - giving Katsuki the perfect opportunity to scoop them up in one easy movement, walking them to his bedroom, falling into walls just to get another moment to kiss Ochako as deeply as he wanted. In their moments, pinned to walls or doorframes, he holds her against his chest, pouring each ounce of desire onto her. It isn’t lust, it isn’t ignoring tension that has been between them - it fuelled it, the passion they held for one another. When he kissed her, he wanted it to last - rushing it would ruin the moment, to ignore the perfect shape of their bodies together. Ochako found she could fall in love with just the way his hands held at her waist.

“Too many clothes,” she whined. Katsuki pulled his shirt over the back of his head and she aided to get it off and he in turn helped her take her own shirt off. When they finally made it to his bed, they were frantic to get their clothes off, freeing themselves of the burden between them. They wanted to be bare, to show each other the raw passion that lay on the surface if the other dared to taste.

And they both wanted to taste.

Their lips found each other again, and within a breath, Katsuki was inside her. Ochako breathed his air, clutching onto the back of his neck as his hand was in her waist, guiding her hips to take his cock, drag them together so perfectly, it was like everything else didn’t matter.

“The others, they didn’t fuck you like this, did they?” he asked, and Ochako chewed on her bottom lip, Katsuki’s hand binding into the sheets beside her.

“No,” she whined, hand bound at his wrist, save for her pinky.

“They couldn’t make you beg,” he growled.

“No,” she shook her head.

“You want to beg, don’t you?”

“Yes, always,” she said, only to be met with harsh hips that stopped suddenly - the building tension in the pit of her stomach lost. “No! Why…” she cried out, hand holding tight to his bicep as he stilled within her.

“Beg, angel face, how about you beg?”

“Please Bakugou,” she pleaded. Katsuki shook his head, eyes stern with her.

“That’s not what you call me,” he replied, voice like gravel, tearing into her. She whimpered at it, knowing what he wanted from her. How she wanted to give it right back.

“Katsuki,” she whined again, her hips circling, trying to get some friction. She hated that he wasn’t moving.

“Again,” he demanded.

“Katsuki!”

“That’s what I like to hear, cheeks,” he praised, kissing her and driving into her with force. She hiccuped a breath, moaning in a ragged and needy way, trying to contain herself, but as he kissed her, his own moans mouth into her skin - she didn’t care. She wanted him to hear her, how good he made her feel.

He was right, he was the only one that made her feel wanted - who cared about pleasing her. Katsuki wanted to fuck her, but do it right. The one way she’d ever want it again.

The tension in her body, making her hips snap to his, roll against him was quickening - she was frantic for her release. It didn’t take long before she was scrambling for

“Oh, god, Katsuki,”

“I’m right here,” he said, his thrusts becoming erratic and needy, and she chased him, looking the feel he gave over to her. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he said, hand on the side of her cheek.

“Right there,” she cried, clawing at his back, holding onto him for dear life as she finally felt her orgasm arrive, spinning her out of control and warmth filled her belly, sparking a need within her. Katsuki pumped into her twice more before she felt the heat that filled her that morning seep into her once more. It was so satisfying, to just feel it within her, to have him cry out into her shoulder as he gave her everything he had.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, holding onto each other, just to keep them from parting, but it was heaven to her.

“Ochako?” Katsuki growled.

“Hmm?” she purred, hands in his hair.

“Let us down.”

“What?” she said, looking up at him.

“Did I really fuck your brains right out of your head? We’re on the roof, cheeks!” he said. Ochako was in such a daze, she hadn’t even realised she’d done it.

“Oh... hehe... sorry” she said, cheeks flushing as she allowed them to float back down to his mattress. He held her, kissing at the side of her neck, trailing beautiful kisses along her collar until they hit the mattress and he was finally able to curl himself around her. She loved his arms around her - it made her feel so much safer than anything had ever made her feel.

They didn’t speak for a while, and Ochako felt like she was completely spent, trying to wander to her slumber, but everything about that night set her alight. She felt cared for - loved even - and she didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to hold him and kiss him, and have him make her scream his name at least five more times. Ochako just wanted him fully.

Her eyes were fluttering shut when she heard Katsuki sigh, as though something were wrong. She didn’t budge, but it did bother her.

“Why did you have to come into my life like that?” she heard his voice, it was soft, barely a whisper, breath touching at the back of her ear. She didn’t react, thinking it was best not to face him - he always had trouble making eye contact with her, emotions stunting his way of speaking. “I want you so fucking badly...more than these goddamn nights...” he said, and it was then that she realised; he thought she was asleep. From the way his voice didn’t raise as though he were speaking to her, and the soft strokes of his thumb on her shoulder, as he had done the nights before to lull her to sleep.

She wants to cover her mouth, to hold in any gasps, but she didn’t dare move. Instead, she bit her lip, keeping a steady breath. “I want you to be mine…” he trailed off. Keep going. Please. “I’ve loved you since we were sixteen. For so many damn years.”

Ochako’s heart clenched.

“I wish I could fucking tell you,” he sighed, holding her closer.

Her lip wobbled. Did she even dare…

She’d been bold enough, she could…

Ochako tossed over, and Katsuki stiffened. His jaw went slack before shutting tightly, eyes wild with hurt and anger. Her heart was screaming at her, and it won out - her hands reached for his face as she dipped her lips to his, pulling herself as close to him as she could. He didn’t react at first, hands completely still around her body, until his arms tightened, tugging her into him.

“I love you, Katsuki,” she breathed, her heart at peace. Katsuki stared at her, eyes searching for a lie. “I should have said…” she started. “I want you. Please don’t regret what you said. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it, it’s -”

“I don’t want to pretend,” he said, forehead to hers, breath a little heavier than it had been before. “I want you.” There was a gleam in his eyes. “I love you.”

Katsuki rolled on top of her, kissing her slowly - slower than he had ever kissed her before - making it all last. Her heart had never felt so full, and when Katsuki’s hand slipped into hers, fingers lacing together with the tightest hold, she never wanted this moment to end.

For the first time, she felt what it was like to be loved - because as they rolled in his bed together, panting and swearing out their pleasures, all the while their eyes spoke words they couldn’t. Every second Ochako found it harder and harder to leave his eyes - needing to watch them as she came apart because it was more than just the mounting friction of their bodies, it was so much more than she could possibly say.

It was love.

They both felt it, clutching to one another as they came at the same time, bonded in more than just rough sex or playful fucks around their apartment. It was only them, in their bed together, tangled amongst each other and never wanting to leave.

When all was said and said, Katsuki cupped her cheek, looking at her with dazed eyes and wonder in his gaze. She’d never felt such emotion from him before. He didn’t speak, but there were words on his lips, scared to say what he wanted to.

“I know,” she whispered to him, his eyes flicking to hers. “I do too.”

To that, Katsuki cracked a grin, kissing her sweetly before curling his arms around her body - they were in complete bliss.

~*~*~

Waking the next morning, Ochako was alone, and ultimately she was cold. She looked around for any sign of him before hearing noise in the kitchen. Finding the bed sheet at the bottom of the bed, she curled it around herself, hanging it around her shoulders, yawning as she made her way to the kitchen.

There, she found Katsuki cooking away as he had been doing at the start of the week. But everything was different now. She smiled at him, but as soon as he looked at her, he looked away, her smile fading and chest feeling tight with nerves.

Why won’t he look at her? Why can’t he even met her gaze at all? He was obviously glancing her way, why couldn’t he just look at her?

“So,” she started, sitting at the stool across from where he was cooking. “we are pretending?”

“Pretending what?” he snapped, irritated by her accusation.

“That we didn’t say that we loved each other last night,” she reminded, to which Katsuki only shook his head.

“No, not pretending,” he said.

“Then why can’t you look at me?” she said, her voice wavering as she felt her bottom lip tremble. Katsuki sighed, turning off the stove top and glancing back at her. He moved to the island bench where she was. His hands braced on the counter.

“Because if I look at you in that damn bed sheet, I’ll fuck you on the counter and we’re running out of condoms,” he snarled, finally looking at her with the hungriest eyes she’d ever seen on him. Her stomach did flips. She bit her lip and smiled to him.

“You know I’m on birth control right?” she said, standing up and making her way towards the hall, leading to his room.

“No way. You’re gonna get mad when I fucking ruin your a-” he didn’t have to chance to finish as Ochako dropped the sheet to the floor. Maybe his brazen attitude had finally rubbed off on her.

“What were you saying, Ground Zero?” she asked, her bottom lip going between her teeth.

“You’re gonna fucking get it, angel face,” he smirked, ripping the tank top off over his head and bounding towards her, capturing her legs and lifting her over his shoulder. She giggled before being thrown onto his bed, him following after with far less clothes than he had been just a second before.

Ochako had to admit, if she woke up like that everyday, she would never hate getting up in the morning.

~*~*~

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Ochako asked, hand tracing the line of his cheekbone down to his jaw.

“Does it fucking matter?”

Ochako shrugged. “Could have saved a lot of time.”

“Huh?”

“I liked you in high school too, you know?” she laughed, to which Katsuki scrunched up his face, “don’t make that face. You were the first person that saw me as someone who could be a hero. You pushed me to my limit, and made me better,” she confessed, cheeks feeling hotter than they should have.

“So you fell for me cause I kicked your ass,” he said with a smirk.

“I liked being someone that was different to you,” she said, smacking at his chest before laying her palm down on it, his heart underneath it. She could feel it beating so fast, it made her own mimic his.

“You’re the only person that’s pushed me that far,” he replied, “at that time anyway,” he shrugged.

“Is that so?” she said, very proud of herself.

“Couldn’t look at you the same after that,” he said, stroking her face once more. “Ochako,” he sighed and her heart clenched.

“Say it again,” she asked, almost a little too breathlessly. Katsuki smirked, bringing his face closer to hers, nose nudging nose.

“Ochako,” he said, low and gravelly.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” she whined, diving on top of him before kissing him with everything she had left. Katsuki smiled against her lips, holding her to his chest and letting his hands wander over her form. She’d never get tired of his beautiful hands.

~*~*~

They got word on Sunday afternoon that everything was fixed and that they were able to go back to work when they needed to. They both had their Monday shift to be concerned about, so most of Sunday afternoon and night they exercised. It kept them busy and their hands off each other. They made it clear they didn’t want others to know just yet, especially as heroes, it made everything a little harder. But eventually.

Katsuki was out earlier than she was - being number two was definitely harder work than being number eight, but Ochako’s rank didn’t bother her. When she was called in to the scene for rescue, Katsuki still being the badass he was in villain control, they often caught sight of each other and smiled, urging each other on.

In the end, the villain was taken down and there were no civilian casualties. They did a great job and were commended for it all day.

In the elevator, just the two of them, Ochako smiled and looked at her boyfriend - tilting her head to him in awe as she realised she got to call him that. Her boyfriend.

“What you starin’ at, round face?” he asked.

“My boyfriend,” she said quietly. His attention snapped to her, his cheeks slightly flushed. She giggled, turning her attention to the elevator doors that opened. They walked together towards the coffee pot and she grabbed her mug and poured some for herself. She offered the pot to Katsuki but he shook his head.

“You did well out there today,” he praised.

“Is that so? Do I get a treat when I get home?” she asked, to which Katsuki growled back, almost clutching at her side. Then Kirishima came in, forcing Katsuki to move away from her and towards his desk, opposite Ochako’s. She sat down and began to log the report for the day.

“Hey, did you guys hear the couple in your building last week?” Kirishima asked. Ochako took off her helmet and began to drink her coffee.

“What? No?” Katsuki replied, a little annoyed he was being asked anything at all. Ochako caught his gaze burning into her.

“There were like five different reports that they were causing a ‘disturbance’ but because the police couldn’t get there, we had to tell them it wasn’t a big deal,” Kirishima laughed, and Ochako looked up at Katsuki, brow furrowed. She took her cup to her lips, listening to the two talk.

“What kind of disturbance?” Katsuki asked.

“Dude, they were fucking for a week straight, and neither of them could shut the hell up,” Kirishima laughed, to which Ochako sprayed her coffee across her desk, choking in the process. “You ok, Ochako?”

“Peachy,” she choked, coughing and excusing herself to the kitchen.

Wiping herself down and making sure to clean up her coffee mug and sigh at the completely embarrassing situation.

“We’re a public disturbance now,” Katsuki said, making Ochako jump, her entire body feeling defensive.

“You…” she started, but with that stupid smirk on his face, she felt her resolve loosen, and her heart hammering. “Shut up,” she grumbled, feeling Katsuki’s hand slip in between her waist and the benchtop. “Hey, we’re at work,” she replied, voice hushed as to not draw attention.

“I don’t care if we’re at work,” he said, voice low and hitting a point in her belly that made her want to whimper. She arched up into him, her forehead resting against his. She desperately wanted to kiss him, but the risk felt -

“Oh, now I get why you didn’t hear anything,” Kirishima’s voice rocked through them, tearing them apart from one another in a sharp jump. The red haired hero turned, bounding towards the other heroes that had huddled around desks. “Hey guys! I won the bet, pay up!” he called, and Ochako felt her face go so hot, she would have been the shade of a fire hydrant.

“What fucking bet!?” Katsuki shouted, watching as he stormed off after Kirishima, who had now taken it upon himself to start running. “Get back here shitty hair!”

Even with the chaos that surrounded Katsuki in general, and being a hero, Ochako felt happy - content even. She was loved. And it felt perfect.

Ochako would never be disappointed again.

#kacchako #bakugou x uraraka #katsuki x ochako #kacchako fic #my fics #to be alone with you

142 notes · View notes

theoddcatlady · 7 years

Text

Bridget’s Diary

TW: Mentions of Sexual Assault

9/12/15

I’m going to go to a party tomorrow.

I can’t believe I’m doing this! I know parties are places of temptation, but my friends are all going and I just can’t help myself. They’re all purity club members, we’ll keep each other on the straight and narrow. I’m so excited, and at the same time I want to throw up because I’m so nervous. My parents obviously don’t know I’m going, I told them I’m staying at my friend Holly’s tomorrow night. I will be, kinda, just… after the party.

I will seriously throw up. This is so exciting. I just have to remember that I’m a fine china tea cup, not Styrofoam and disposable. I’m not easy, and I will remain pure until Jesus chooses my soulmate. ♥

For now though… I have to figure out what I’m going to wear!

9/13/15

I think I was raped last night.

I didn’t drink any alcohol, I didn’t dance with any boys, I was just there to hang out with my friends and keep them reliable. I was drinking a Sprite. It had a funny aftertaste but I didn’t think of it until I woke up a few hours later. The party was over, my friends were gone, and my skirt was on backwards and my tights had snags.

I’d been redressed in my sleep, and I’m really sore, like I’ve been thrown across the room.

I’m such a hypocrite. You don’t put yourself in those situations. That is willingly straying from God’s Will and protection.

I’m going to church today and praying for forgiveness… and hopefully I’ll forget anything ever happened.

10/21/15

I can’t believe the NERVE of some people!

The nurse had the gall to insinuate I was pregnant. PREGNANT. You can’t get pregnant by doing it once, even if I have done it at all! I’m not even sure if I was raped!

I’m honestly so mad right now. I told my mom to complain to the school, this is so awful. Tomorrow I’m excused from school to go to the doctor.

I had a panic attack, get this, a panic attack! In the restroom! After I left the stupid nurse’s office. I’m so angry. I couldn’t breathe, I just kept thinking about that stupid party, and I’m even madder at that stupid nurse!

I’m going to bed, I’m tired from all the freak outs I had today. I don’t care that I have homework or that it’s only eight PM. Today was rough.

10/22/15

My life is over.

I’m pregnant. I tried to get an abortion today, but apparently there’s a twenty four hour wait. And by the time I got home, the doctor already let my mother know. She was furious. I’m hiding in my room because I don’t want to see the look on my daddy’s face when he first finds out.

Laptop? Taken. Cellphone? Taken. I’m not allowed to leave the house. I can’t have friends over. I can’t go see them.

And the only computer time I’m allowed to have is with my mom over my shoulder as I message every person I can find on Facebook that was at that party. I cried so much I threw up. I tried to tell her that I didn’t remember, and she slapped me and called me a liar and a whore.

I only managed to message two of the guys, the ones who owned the house. They haven’t gotten back to me yet.

I want to die.

10/31/15

I’ve managed to find everyone I could at the party. No one remembers seeing me with anyone. And most of the guys never even got back to me.

Right now I’m watching moms on the streets, taking their kids trick or treating. I never got to do that as a kid. It’s a Devil’s Holiday… least that’s what my parents would say.

But those kids are having so much fun. I hear them laughing and talking and I feel so jealous, but at the same time, I wonder if I’ll be that mom. Out with her kid on Halloween, helping make my daughter into a princess or a cowgirl or a witch or really anything she’d want to be. I actually want that.

I don’t think I’ve spoken to my mom more than a sentence or so a day since I’ve been locked up in my room. I don’t want that to happen between me and my baby.

I promise, baby girl. We’ll get out of here someday. I don’t know why I believe so strongly that you’re a girl. But you are. I know it. And we’re going to leave my parents the moment we can, and it’ll just be me and you. I love you so much. I do.

And no one is going to make me feel ashamed of you. Not anymore.

11/9/15

I found the father.

I’m partially relieved but at the same time I’m… afraid. I don’t want to meet him. I want him to stay away from me and my daughter. But I don’t really have a choice in the matter. He reached out directly to my parents, told them that he had been out of the country and hadn’t been checking his Facebook. He’s going to come over tomorrow night to have dinner with us.

I’m tempted to fake being sick, the Lord knows I’ve been in bed with morning sickness half the day. But my mom’s going to kill me if I don’t cooperate. She still thinks I can get married to this man.

I can’t even remember his name. He raped me. I don’t want anything to do with him.

11/10/15

That is not the father of my child.

I don’t know who he is but I do not remember him at the party. My mother forced me to get ‘pretty’ and to wear my nicest dress. I might be a ‘harlot’ (her words not mine), but I have to impress my future husband. I tried to tell her he’ll definitely not want to marry me but she pinched my arm so hard it’s bruised.

He arrived at six PM on the dot, and when he walked in I knew there was no way he was the father.

‘Malak’ is absolutely no younger than thirty five and wouldn’t be the type to be caught dead at a college party. He speaks with the class of someone who’s spent his entire life in high society, and he charmed my mother so fast she almost rolled out the red carpet. My father was a bit more hesitant, given his age, but Malak’s silver tongue had them chatting and laughing away.

I just stayed quiet the whole night, not that I had much room to speak. Malak dominated the conversation just by existing.

When finally dinner was over, he turned his attention to me, and I shivered under his gaze.

“So, Bridget. It may not be the best of situations, but would you like to come live with me during the rest of your pregnancy? I can make sure you’re always taken care of, I have personal doctors and I’d like to keep an eye on my future daughter… or son. What do you think?”

My mother practically leaped to agree for me. I just nodded and faked a smile before I ran up here.

I don’t want to live with Malak. I’d rather be locked up in this prison of a house than go live with him. He scares me.

I hear someone coming up the stairs.

…

It was Malak. He came into my room and oh my god, I’m so scared I think I’m going to cry.

He told me he didn’t rape me at the party. That no one did, but I did come very close. My tights were down by the time he came into the bedroom. The suicide that happened down the street, at the bridge? That was the boy who was going to rape me. According to Malak anyway.

‘I like irony, and it’d be the sweetest thing, having a virgin bear my child.’

I don’t know what he was talking about. He said I was to have my things packed by tomorrow, he’d be picking me up then and it was all arranged.

When he left the room, he stopped to look at the cross on my wall. It fell from the wall and broke, no, it shattered into a million splinters. Then he kept on walking.

It’s ruined. I’ve had that cross since I was a baby. It was made of a sturdy wood, even if it was old, it shouldn’t have broken like that. I think I’m going crazy.

But he also knows I’m going to have a girl.

11/17/15

I’ve lived in Malak’s mansion for a week.

My room is enormous. My closet is so deep I can walk several steps inside. It’s full of dresses, made for different stages of maternity. Just one of these dresses would be worth more than the amount of clothes I buy in a single year. They’re so lovely too, each one personally made for me.

We’re going to the courthouse to get married tonight. My mom was upset that it wouldn’t be in a church, but I wondered if Malak would burst into flame if he even stepped foot on church grounds.

Any religious things I’ve brought into the house have either gone missing or broken. I think I saw the cover of my childhood Bible in the remains of the ashes of the fireplace, but I can’t be sure.

I can’t say I’ve been treated badly though. In fact, it’s the opposite. I’m waited upon like a queen. If I so much as open my mouth immediately there is someone there, eager to give me whatever I ask for. Lately I’ve really liked eating cookies and cream ice cream with sliced sweet and dill pickles. I asked them and within a half hour I had a tray with the bowl of ice cream and both kinds of pickles. It was delicious.

But at the same time, I’m still scared. I’m treated like royalty, and I don’t know why. All I am is the mother to Malak’s daughter. And the way they look at Malak… it’s with reverence and terror.

The servants don’t call him Malak though. They call him Master.

12/8/15

Something happened to the other girls at my school.

I was reading a baby name book while the TV was on in the background. Then Malak burst into the room, saw I was there, and told me that I had to remain indoors. I asked what was wrong and he wouldn’t say, he just told me again that I had to remain inside and not tell anyone where I was.

I turned on the news after he left and found out. There’s a huge thing going down at school today. The story is that some form of contaminant got into some school lunch and all students infected would have to be quarantined.

The camera panning over students being taken away though revealed a different story.

They were all pregnant.

12/25/15

Christmas is here. There’s no nativity, no going to church tonight. But there is a log burning in the fire and there’s the most beautiful Christmas tree.

I’ve accepted why I’m here. I’m having a special baby. Malak is special. And he picked me because he wanted to keep my baby safe.

We’re snuggling by the fire right now. Malak gifted me so many cute baby dresses. The best present though was going into the nursery.

It’s perfect. So soft and pink. I love pink. Malak looked so pleased when I hugged him. I nearly cried. That might be because of hormones though. I’m showing now too. I love my little baby belly. And Malak… I think he truly loves me.

He’s snickering. I think he read over my shoulder. You jerk.

1/18/16

I cried blood today.

I don’t really know why I started crying in the first place, I think I dropped something and it broke. But I started crying, and then I smelled it. At first I thought it was a nosebleed, given the familiar bitter scent. I used to get them all the time as a kid and I’m starting to get them more again.

But a servant ran in and cried out for her Master in shock.

Thick blood was dripping from my eyes.

Malak cleaned me up and snuggled with me in the study while I asked him what was going on, and if our baby was okay. He reassured me that my body was trying to adapt to the wonderful life inside of me, a life more than anything nature predicted. The baby will be fine. But I must be careful.

I must not get hurt. The wound might not be able to heal. The blood constantly expelling from my body would keep breaking it open. There will be more blood. From my eyes, my nose, and my ears. Don’t panic. I’m perfectly okay.

At night I will sleep with Malak, and he will protect me from any of the night terrors that will come for me.

I will feel cold. This will be normal. I will have any blankets or robes brought to me and the heat will be turned up.

And if I think anyone, even my most trusted servants, bear any ill will to me or my baby, I must tell Malak. He will get rid of them.

1/26/16

I’m watching Malak sleep right now.

It’s like watching the dead. I’m not even sure if he breathes. But he’s warm. Always so warm. I like having him around because of that, and the sharing the bed isn’t as bad as I thought it was. I stayed awake for a long time that first night. It’s not like sharing a bed with mom and dad.

But he’s good at keeping the night terrors away. Sometimes I see them, in my dreams I see darkness in the corners. But I face forward, into his eyes. And he tells me to just look at him, and I will be safe and free.

Oops. He’s not asleep. He just cracked an eye open and told me to put down the book. I need plenty of rest for the baby after all. I’ll go to sleep. I just wanted to write for a bit to settle.

2/14/16

Valentine’s Day! We didn’t go out. I haven’t left the premises in case of anyone recognizing me and trying to take me away. Thankfully no one’s come looking for me yet. I don’t want to leave Malak.

Our date though. It was just relaxing next to the fireplace while eating my favorite ice cream. Malak showed me some tricks with the fire. I’m not sure how he does it, but I’ve learned that I shouldn’t question these things. He made the fire dance and jump about, curl out and even create figures. Just with a twitch of his hand.

It’s power. It’s pure power. But it’s also so beautiful.

4/15/16

I haven’t written for so long. I suppose it’s just been busy.

None of the names I’ve picked out sound good for the baby either. Malak reassures me. Tells me I’ll know when I see her.

I guess there’s just nothing to say lately. I just can’t wait for my baby girl.

5/24/16

Malak had to leave me last night, and I understand why he told me he wanted to stay with me to protect me from the night terrors.

Diary, they were horrible! Screeching banshees and wailing women and dying men… I can’t put into words what it all was. I just remember Malak shaking me awake and calling my name, pulling me from this pit of hell back into the waking world.

I’d screamed so harshly I can’t talk anymore diary. It hurts. The servants have given me honey and other soothers, but I still can’t talk. Malak told me my voice will come back soon enough, but for now it just hurts so badly.

I’m afraid to sleep. Knowing that awaits me. But I just need to make sure I only fall asleep with him, in his bed. He is the only one who can protect me.

I wish the other mothers were with me though. I feel so bad knowing that they don’t have Malak to protect them. I hope they can come here soon. We could raise our babies together. A real family.

We can all trick or treat together.

5/30/16

The baby will be here soon. I’m so huge. I feel like a whale.

Malak kisses my belly and tells me that I’m the prettiest whale he’s ever seen. I laugh and call him a jerk. I feel so safe around him though. Even with the other mothers that will one day join us, I am special. I know I am.

6/6/16

I’m a mother.

6/21/16

Wow, I can’t even remember making that last entry. I was really that tired.

But yeah! I’m a mom! I’m a real mom! My baby has her father’s eyes and her hair’s already looking super dark like his too. Just like her daddy. It was over twelve hours of labor, and I was really worried at first since she came out looking like she was bitten by something. But she’s fine! The marks have faded a bit, they’re just adorable baby birthmarks now.

And Lucifer was right. I knew her name the moment she came out of me.

Jezebel.

6/24/16

The other girls came tonight.

I was sitting with Jezebel and her daddy. Lucifer was petting my hair, I keep forgetting and calling him Malak but he’s never cross about it. I didn’t hear a thing but suddenly my husband looked up before he started to smile.

“They’re here.”

They had come through the gate.

They were covered in ashes and dirt, some were bruised and injured, and some of them had to carry in their arms babies that weren’t theirs.

Some of the mothers hadn’t made it out when they set their prison ablaze.

Alice was in front, I think that’s her name. We weren’t ever friends, I was mistaken in assuming she was just a slut at the time. Her arms were clutching onto a baby that wasn’t hers. I knew. She looked at my husband and said, “Absalom’s safe. I sent him away before the fight.”

Lucifer looked so thankful.

We’re still trying to make room, but I’m having Jezebel share a room with Sapphira. That’s Rosie’s baby. We’re making this work of course. It’ll be rough, if I’m honest. So many girls. And I feel so sad that some didn’t make it. Raquel. Catherine. And of course, the first one whose abortion ended her life so early, Lori. We all miss her. We’re already planning on setting up a small shrine to her. Just a way to honor her.

We are all his wives now.

10/11/16

Jezebel has gotten so big! There’s no time to write in my diary, so I suppose I’ll simply have to put this aside until Jezebel’s older. Then I’ll show her some of the entries. Telling her how happy I am to have such a beautiful girl.

All of us are getting ready for Halloween. No going out yet, they’re too little, but we’re gonna make them little costumes and play around and take all the pictures so we can embarrass them when they get older. I was at the store today picking up some things and I made time to grab supplies for an angel costume. I’m so sure Lucifer’s caught on to what I’m doing but he finds it funny.

Oh, speaking about that- while I was at the store today, I saw the school nurse.

It was only for a second, and at first I didn’t recognize her. I don’t think she realized I saw her at all. But Lucifer saw her too and I recognized that smile on his face.

I hope Jezebel won’t mind having another little brother.

#horror stories #scary stories #sixpenceee stories #sixpenceee #my stories #the devil's wives

456 notes · View notes