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#actually ten i read another one from another author
nctsworld · 3 months
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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year
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Hello there 👋
Can you talk about why you feel the way you do about the female bsd characters? (including the female characters you like) and while I don't think the author doesn't know how to write female characters I think the biggest problem with the female characters is that they're underutilized and barely have much screentime ( the most one we saw recently having screentime currently in the manga is teruko)
Hi!! I love you all SO much but seriously I don't have the mental stability to talk about why the bsd female characters are badly written ahah. Here's my best attempt at it:
I hope it's enough for me to say there's a female / male characters proportion of like 1:10, and no female character has any real repercussion on the plot– literally. Besides from Kyouka and Lucy and maybe Yosano? you could hypothetically erease every other female character and... Realistically, nothing would change. That's just how much irrelevant all but three female characters are, and there's already very few compared to the rest of the male cast. The four main / most popular characters are all males. Dazai is openly sexist and it's just kind of there never to be addressed. Akutagawa is repetedly violent with his female coworker and it's treated as a gag (like you DO realize how repulsive it is to write a character who is obsessed with her abuser and never be intentioned to elaborate on that because I guess that's what women are supposed to do according to author? Like. okay). But honestly the main issue for me is how each of them literally gravitates around another male character. God, it's SO annoying. And I mean every single of them!!! Every. single. Every single!!!! I struggle to come up with even one exception to the pattern. Kyouka has Atsushi as her savior, Lucy has Atsushi as her savior, Higuchi is obsessed with Akutagawa, Naomi is obsessed with Jun'ichirou, Gin literally exists because of Akutagawa, Alcott is just there to aid Fitzgerald, Margaret's only role in the story is to save Hawthorne, Elise is just expression of Mori. Teruko is a person in the body of a child who literally drools over her 50-something superior, like we hadn't as a society come to the common agreement that the “not as old as she looks” trope was disgusting pedophilia apologism like ten years ago (but it's okay though, because pedophilia was established to be okay in this manga at like, chapter 15 or something) (is this the good time to bring up that time Aya asked Kunikida out? No? Okay let's just collectively pretend that never happened). Do I need to go on? I haven't read Gaiden, but do I really need to read it to know Tsujimura gravitates around Ayatsuji? Oh wait, I was just remembered about Gaiden's full title: Bungou Stray Dogs Gaiden: Ayatsuji Yukito VS. Kyougoku Natsuhiko, and if that doesn't speak of the consideration author gives their female characters, I don't know what does. It's just– no female character is ever going to have their own novel. No female character is ever going to be protagonist. They'll just keep being treated as they've always been so far, like flat and personality-less disposable plot devices.
Now. I love Yosano's backstory, I really do- I think it was the best executed arc of the manga, reading those two chapter still gives me chills. But you do have to acknowledge, Yosano herself has no agency in the entire arc development. It's okay, she was eleven, it's natural; but she is just tossed one way to the other by other characters. That, and I can't stretch it enough, is not a bad thing on its own; not all stories have to scream #womanpower to be good stories. It's a good story. But you need to acknowledge it does nothing to empower female characters' role in this manga; it just speaks once again of it being a systematic problem, how author can't write female characters like they were masters of their fate if their life depended on it. And it's not that just because there's one (1) mini arc that happens to have a female character as its protagonist, author knows how to write female characters with depth, or agenda, or an objective, or personality, because... They clearly don't.
Like. I probably became annoying by now but like. When was the last time you found any bsd fan whose favorite character was a woman? When was the last time you found people describing themselves as a Lucy kinnie? If you ask me, it's not a matter of fans' fault for overlooking female characters; the female characters in this franchise are meant to be overlooked, because they're abysmally less stretched out and complex compared to their male counterparts– because male characters are distinctive and unique, while author can't go outside the range of one-dimensional femme fatale, letal woman (Yosano, Kouyou, Teruko, Christie, Gin / Lucy / Elise too to an extent) and woman who's just there to obsess over a male character (Alcott, Higuchi). But do not fret, because author will sometimes go outside that scheme by making a letal femme fatale who also obsesses over a male character! (Naomi). Also this
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(Have you ever wondered why I never talk about Beast Gin? Yeah.)
Okay but you see the problem here? You see how it's impossible to make the same kind of argument for the male characters, because they're all diverse and various and multilayered as much as their little screentime allows? Higuchi doesn't exist outside Akutagawa, Lucy doesn't exist outside Atsushi; but it's not like you can say the same goes the other way round. That is, crossing out the various parallels drawn between male characters, but that only speaks more of how precisely curated male characters are, while all female characters... I'll be honest, aren't written as people. Author really sounds like your average Washington Post best selling psychological thriller author of the week that writes women like an alien species from another planet. It would have spared me having been writing this whole post for an hour (two hours? Which is definitely not the time I wanted to spend on this, man) if only author would have formed the thought, at the start of the serialization: “perhaps! Perhaps I should write women as people instead of writing them as female characters (whatever that means)”. Alas, we ended up with the infamous Naomi description from Untold Origins (what the fuck. who in their right mind would ever think of writing something like that. what the fuck.)
Now, I know if you're here reading this you most definitely like bsd. It's okay, really. Unpopular opinion, but people are perfectly allowed to like things that are flawed (and this is a big flaw). What's extremely important, seriously, I'm on my knees begging you, is to be critical of the media you consume. All kinds of media. Even if you end up disagreeing with me on this matter, really!! Just be able to tell apart the things that make appealing a series for you from whatever kind of agenda / worldview the author is pushing through, and peacefully acknowledge you can like something despite it having issues (because bsd has issues). I don't know who needs to hear this, but someone definitely does: “I love s/kk!!” “the bsd storytelling has many compelling aspects!!” and “I recognize the bsd writing has flaws some of which actively harm an already disadvantaged part of society” are statements that can and should coexist, and if anything - and I know you hate to hear this, I'm sorry, I'm sorry - it should be kept in mind when deciding to support the franchise by buying its products.
One final note is that like... I'm sorry if this comes off as pretentious but I seriously feel like people have NO idea what media with well written female characters look like, because for people to even question bsd being sexist is just insane to me (in the way: do we really need to to talk about it, isn't it obvious like ten seconds in the show??). And this is probably the least good place to advertise things, but please do yourself a favor and read The Promised Neverland and learn what well written female characters read like.
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#Me writing this: I guess this is why everyone hates political sciences students uh#Following up: Why Romanticizing Mafia Is Actually Very Bad (no click bait ‼️‼️ )#Also since I brought up tpn: do you really think that it's a coincidence that the manga with incredibly well written female characters–#and a socialist agenda who was in the top ten Japan's yearly best selling franchises for the entirety of its four years serialization–#got an insulting two seasons anime adaptation that completely narrated another story from the manga‚ a live action movie and THAT'S IT#While series like bsd which didn't even enter the top 20 selling franchises like? Ever? are at their tenth year of serialization–#an excellent four seasons (and counting) anime adaptation five spin-off manga one of which has its own anime–#nine novels as many stage plays and two movies? Do you REALLY think it's a coincidence?#anti bsd#For blacklisting purposes ಥ_ಥ#I know there's some people who won't like reading this but let's be honest... That's probably the people that need to read this the most ;;#bsd analysis#Of sorts...#mine#people asks me stuff#This post contains the several reasons why Tumblr can't become like Twitter namely 1) author in question has Twitter#2) Tumblr is anonymous so people can't send me personally death threats#3) It's Tumblr so people won't send me death threats at all (... Hopefully)#Also I'M SO SORRY I know I have dms pending I'm just the worst at answering them 😭😭😭#I swear I'll do my best to get to them eventually ;;;;;;
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red-archivist · 3 months
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with the caveat that its only ep 4 and characters are still being developed;
im surprised at how cautious alice is
from ep 1 and 2, she comes across as a jokester, as lackadaisical, self-described as 'your cool older sister'- so i didn't expect her to be the one telling Sam to stop poking his nose into things
its not so much a respect for authority (calling lena an 'emotionally distant mother' in ep 1 was just as disrespectful as anything gwen said imo) but there is a fierce undercurrent to all her actions to Stay Out Of Trouble
she is delighted Lena hasn't said more than ten words to her in a year bc it means she is flying under the radar
she wants central IT to look at FR3-d1 but tries to outsource actually asking for it to avoid Colin getting upset with her
she compartmentalises all the weird, spooky and awful things she reads about, she walks away from the cases that are spoken out loud, she does everything in her power to not engage with the work while still doing her job
we don't know (yet) how long Alice has been working in the OIAR, but it is long enough that she knew the 'old guard', it is long enough that she has seen people 'go weird'
either Alice has witnessed or actively been a part of something going wrong or someone digging too deep and being punished for it
ALICE This is not something you go poking around in. Not if you want to keep your job… or your neck.
and now the stakes are even higher for her because the person who could get in trouble here isn't just another co-worker, it's Sam- it's her friend that she got into this job in the first place, and she wants him to stay safe
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nininikki · 3 months
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divorced-ish — n. kento
content warnings: ex-husband!nanami, delusional!nanami (he’s cute tho)
author’s note: sigh i need him
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ex-husband!nanami who just couldn’t stay away from you if he tried
ex-husband!nanami who you’d originally separated from on account of his work seeming to hold more priority over you, and then your newborn daughter.
ex-husband!nanami who still keeps a photo of you and the baby on his desk at his job (which, ironically, was the thing that ultimately led to his marriage failing). when asked by his nosey secretary why he still kept the photo, he only responded, “it’s my family. why wouldn’t i?”
ex-husband!nanami who had yet to actually finalize the divorce. but really, it wasn’t his fault. he just hadn’t gotten around to sending the papers over (or having them printed up at all), what with all those crazy shifts at work. oh, well, it didn’t matter. he would do it at some point.
ex-husband!nanami who had left you virtually everything in the not-so-finalized-divorce. the four bedroom, four bathroom house, your diamond 6 carat engagement ring, your wedding china, the aston martin db9 he had gifted you for your birthday, the park avenue apartment, the country house in monaco—all of it.
ex-husband!nanami who you had never been able to turn down whenever he stayed over just a little later after dropping the baby back off with you. the two of you would sit on the couch and catch up over a glass of wine. then one glass turned to two, then two to three. and for a minute it would almost feel as if you were still married.
nanami never ended up leaving until the late hours of the night. by which point you began to wonder where he’d gotten all the free time he couldn’t seem to find when you were actually married.
ex-husband!nanami who internally scoffed whenever you mentioned going on a date with another man.
“do you think you could watch her on saturday? i’ve got a date i really don’t wanna miss.” you’d asked at the tail end of an already too long (thirty minute) phone call.
nanami breathed a recognizable, pensive sigh on the other end, chewing through what he’d earlier told you was tempura, but considering how long it was taking him to answer, it may as well have been your nerves.
“you know i will, but, uh,” you heard him swallow. “a date?”
although your ex-husband didn’t exactly sound like he was joking, you couldn’t help the giggle that vibrated through your body. glancing at the clock on your nightstand that read eight-thirty and the baby sleeping soundly in the crib next to your bed, you propped the house phone between your ear and shoulder. what was the harm in killing another thirty minutes?
“yes, kento, a date. his name is scott. he’s an art dealer. i think you’d like him.”
“does scott know you’re still married?”
“separated,” you corrected him. “and no, he doesn’t. do you tell every woman who asks you out that you’re married?”
nanami hesitated for a second before answering, “yes, i do.”
ex-husband!nanami who came to your house with flowers and a store bought pumpkin pie for thanksgiving. more than you’d like to admit, you liked having him around for the holidays. he was so good with the baby, and so attentive to everything else. cleaning up all the leftovers and stray baby toys as the night came to an end.
it was nearing ten o’clock when he had successfully put the baby to sleep, and then came down to help you tidy up the downstairs. “y’know you didn’t have to buy a pie, right?” you told him after you’d discovered it hidden amongst the array of leftover pots and aluminum pans. “i know it’s your favorite. i’d have made you some.”
nanami brought his task at hand (loading the dishwasher) to a stiff halt and joined you at the island countertop. “but hey,” you added, tearing the lid off the pie. “we could see if it’s as good as the real thing.”
your ex-husband, usually the most well-spoken man you knew, could only stiffly nod in your direction while you retrieved a pair of shiny silver forks, still in the drawer they’d always been in. “and i got some whipped cream if you want.” you added as you gave him a fork, now taken aback by his sudden lack of speech. seriously, he hadn’t spoken this little since the year leading up to your separation.
what you didn’t know was that nanami couldn’t speak if he wanted to. he needed this. the three of you hadn’t had a real holiday together since last halloween, and even that was admittedly very bleak. “i miss you,” nanami blurted.
and he did. he missed your desserts for every holiday—savory pumpkin pie for thanksgiving, sweet apple pie for christmas, strawberry eclairs for valentine’s day. he missed opening his eyes every morning to the sight of your face smushed into a pillow, or a bit of drool gathering at the corner of your mouth. he missed coming home from work to the sight of you and the baby sound asleep on the couch. he missed being your husband, and even more knowing you were his wife.
ex-husband!nanami who spent the night fucking his ex-wife into the couch as though they were still married. wrapping you in his strong arms, while murmuring promises of change and betterment. “i’ll never go to work again, swear,” he said, shuddering between deep thrusts. “please just take me back, baby.”
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1-800-kami · 8 months
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R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)
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gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
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IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)
content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)
author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)
tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
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everything’s been hazy.
you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.
you can’t even bring yourself to move.
so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?
why did gojo lie to you?
another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?
you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.
you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.
you think you can barely even call him gojo now.
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the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.
you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.
“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”
“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”
there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.
satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”
your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.
i’ll wait an eternity for you
i’ll always choose you over anything
you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.
a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.
“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”
his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.
now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.
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you didn’t come to school today.
there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.
one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.
he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.
gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.
it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls. 
he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip. 
however, this time was different.
this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”
he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.
maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out. 
gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.
“gojo-san?”
he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“
“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“
“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”
he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”
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“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.
gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.
she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”
gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”
the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”
she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”
“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”
“i’m sorry-”
“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.
“...my friend told me to record it…”
he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”
“uhm, yes.”
“so you still have the video?”
“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”
“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”
she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.
she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”
gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.
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you miss him.
you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.
you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.
you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.
the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin. 
you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.
“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”
your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.
“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”
you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.
he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”
he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.
the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.
..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.
holy shit.
tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.
“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”
“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”
“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?
“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”
he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too. 
you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long. 
you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"
“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”
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gojo can’t let you go.
you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.
god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”
his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”
“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now. 
he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”
“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”
his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.
everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.
“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”
“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”
“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”
he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”
“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”
and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”
“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”
“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.
he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.
satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”
“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”
“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”
gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover. 
“angel, are you with me?”
“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.
when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”
“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”
“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”
you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”
satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you. 
satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.
“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”
“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”
“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”
“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.
you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.
“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”
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“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.
the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.
and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.
you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”
for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.
for everything that you have done to love me.
it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”
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thanks for reading <3 -kami.
2K notes · View notes
angelisverba · 10 months
Text
achilles heel
in which y/n gets herself into another precarious situation and wants her dealer to help her, and harry can’t help but feel conflicted about how much he wants her
read part one here
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word count: 14k
pairing: plug!h and y/n
warning: bad trip! peer pressure, drug coercion, drugs, mentions of bullying, sexual content!
author’s note: there aren’t any facts to back up the use of any kind of sexual enhancers, so much of this experience is improvised and not actually something that would happen irl in terms of science. love you! 
Two slow, torturously long weeks pass- one in which he was out of business entirely trying to stock his inventory up again- before he hears from her again. In the middle of the night, it’s beginning to become a pattern for them. He only hopes that this time, it’s not for an asshole group of people.
His bohemian dream of a room is upturned, messy, as he’s been a grump about not seeing her. There’s shirts strewn everywhere, his bed is a rumpled mess and he wishes that it were because he had sex in it instead of restlessly sleeping. He’s coming out of the shower with a white towel low on his hips. There are clouds of thick steam coming out from his open bathroom door and while a majority is from the hot water he hoped would soothe his tense body, there's a bit of thicker, headier smoke from the skinny spliff he hotboxed while in the tub. 
And it hadn’t worked for shit. Because he was still cranky, still restless. His fingers were itching to do something, and if he hadn’t just smoked weed, he would be in his garage, throwing around weights like a madman to try and get himself tired. Sadly, he wasn’t even fucking horny, so jerking off wasn’t an option. 
Sidestepping his sweatpants by the edge of his bed, Harry grips the thick of the fabric at his crotch and reaches for a pair of clean underwear from a drawer at his bedside table, furrows his eyebrows at the box of condoms stashed in there, and pull on white boxers. He throws the towel at the end of his bed and lays back with his arms splayed wide, sighing dramatically. He felt deeply sorry for himself. 
Y/n was probably never going to talk to him again because the last few times they had seen each other, Harry was a complete dick to her, acting every bit like the asshole drug dealer that had a criminal reputation. God, the girl was probably scared of him. He fucked his all-
Ping!
This phone went off with a notification. The same tone he had assigned her, and Harry’s body lurched off the bed. His arms swept the expanse of his bed, ruffling his duvet in search of the device. 
Ping!
It went off again, and the urgency in which he was searching increased. Where the fuck was his-
He found it when it thunked onto the floor, and with shaking hands, he unlocked it. 
Y/n: Hi, Harry! 
Are you available for delivery at the moment?
Of course he is. Always, for her. But he didn’t type that back, obviously. He had to be cool.
Harry: I am. What can I get you?
The gray dots appear instantly, and he gets another text shortly after. 
Y/n: Do you have any brownies?
He had been to a frat party earlier in the day in which a group of senior guys had taken some pot brownies off his hands. Before confirming with her, he double-checks his inventory on the notes app folder  he has just to keep track of stock. 
Harry: I have half a dozen left tonight
Should he have added a smiley face? No, that would have been creepy right?.... 
Y/n: Perfect :D ! I’ll take five, please! 
Harry: No problem. Can I have the address, please?
She sends it not even a minute later. All concerns regarding driving a vehicle while high unethically fly out of his mind because honestly, he wasn’t even high anymore. Not even feeling it. She was only twenty minutes away, ten if he didn’t pay attention to laws.
Harry: I’m On my way! 
Y/n: See you soon!
Yeah, fuck the laws.
***
He makes it in 8 minutes. 
And something about this house doesn’t feel right. 
He didn’t realize it until the houses started looking nice and the parked cars on the side of the street started getting more expensive than the address she had provided him with was one on the wealthier side of town. He knew of a guy that lived here who everyone talked about because his method of acquiring money was sketchier than Harry’s, and well… that said a lot given that Harry sold drugs for a living.
The end of the driveway that he parks on is wide enough to be a two-way street. One of the lights flickered on by the motion sensor as Harry took his helmet out and shook his hair back. In his rush to get here, he hadn’t put on a shirt, and with his leather jacket left unzipped, his tattoos were on full display. The moonlight gleamed on the ridges of his abdomen, casting shadows across the markings on his skin. He was warm despite the chill in the air, and the cool drift of the night wind on his muscles was a welcome feeling. 
Harry just didn’t realize how… devilish he looked. He appeared every bit the bad boy ready to sweep you off your feet in the summer, and the serious expression on his face added to the mystery. Wondering if this time she was able to hear his motorcycle from deep inside wherever she was in that mansion of the house, Harry kicked his stand down, hung his helmet on the handlebar, and took his phone out to let her know he was here.
Harry: I’m outside
Grey bubbles pop-up, squiggling like a little wave. And then…
Y/n: Be right there!
All of the breath in his lungs vacates his chest, and he gets warmer than he already was. Pacing the short lengths of his motorcycle, he wonders how he may get more nervous to see her every time he sees her. He never used to be this way, not even with a girl he wanted to talk up at a bar. There was a confidence within him, this shine that sprouted from knowing that he knew he was the shit, and he was going to use that to his advantage, to make a girl blush and stutter. Instead, she was the one to turn him inside out. He forgot all about basic manners around her. He forgot how to smile without questioning if his smile was wonky. He thought-
“Hi, Harry!”
He thought she looked so fucking sexy tonight. 
Coming from the front door, y/n is a wispy, gauzy mirage. Her feet are wobbly, and there’s a glass tumbler in her hand with a toothpick-skewered olive. She’s smiling so brightly at him, and this unrestricted happiness at his appearance alarms him. Where is the timid girl who speaks to him with a voice barely above a whisper? She must be drunk he thinks. 
An itchy feeling he can’t shake off overcomes him because the girl is wearing a lacy slip dress that is so sheer, he can see her pink undergarments underneath. A white cardigan slides off her shoulders and hangs on to her elbow like a satin bow slipping loosely from a gift. He can’t decide if he wants to tie her back up or unravel her. 
She runs the last few steps to him, and either she miscalculates her stop, or trips on a pebble because suddenly, she’s in his arms and he’s holding her upright. And he’s also breathing heavily because a rush of blood has made its way down to his cock and he knows she can see it pressing through his jeans and against her belly if the way her eyes go round is any indication. 
Her drink slips from her hand, and shatters at their feet. The loud scattering of glass makes her jump, and an apology is clumsily stumbling from her mouth while she tries to pull herself from his embrace. Harry, however, tightens his hold. His fingers squeeze at her waist, and through the lace of her dress, he can feel the overlapping fabric of her panties. Without saying anything, he lifts her and takes a few steps to the side before setting her down away from the hazard. 
“What-” her brows furrow, and her head tilts to the side. She isn’t rushing out of his arms now.
Interrupting her, Harry explains, “y’were about to step on the glass.” 
���Oh,” y/n is back to whispering as her eyes travel all over his face, “thank you.”
With her in his arms, Harry has forgotten how to act. His mind is blank as a sheet of paper, and his lungs are expanding and contracting but oxygen isn’t really reaching him because he smells something sweet combined with alcohol on her warm breath. He sees how y/n’s facial expressions resemble that of a guppy fish, and he realizes that maybe he should let her go but he can’t because… because her fingers are shifting around his arms and she’s kind of shifting her weight and writhing and Harry still has a fucking boner so this is all-
He steps back, observing her shiver, and clears his throat. “Of course. Are you…are you cold?”
“Cold?” she asks. Her voice is silvery like the incantation of a church bell and he wants to fall to his knees are revere her, to beg for forgiveness, for her to cleanse him of all his sins. The night air has turned him into some kind of animal, he decides. The moon has transformed him into the hungry, howling wolf who will only be silenced by knowing her in the most carnal way. Meeting under the blanket of darkness has decided their fate. 
“You’re shivering,” he states, voices unwavering and factual. That confidence he was missing before has somehow found its way back. Like tectonic plates, the tension has shifted in his favor. Harry gathers the courage to fix the cardigan on her shoulders. 
His hands graze the cool skin of her biceps, and he doesn’t miss the way she textures with evidence of her intimidation. The way her breath stops altogether and he mumbles under his breath, “Just fixing y’up, darling. Y’can breathe, m’not gonna bite,” and she drops her arms at her side to let him help her, and then…
He feels the thin, sharp glide of her fingernails at his sternum. How can a single touch be so erotic? His jeans are too tight over his bulge, and fighting a groan, he exhales deeply, looking up at her to find her eyes droopy, staring at his butterfly tattoo. Her mouth moves around the shape of pretty before her eyes flicker up at him. They both freeze. Prey and predator, caught before the deadly pounce. 
But y/n breaks their eye contact. 
Harry drags the fabric up so it sits properly on her shoulders, and slides his fingers down to the front, so he can begin with the first button. His fingers drag unnecessarily like syrup on the skin right above her slip, and her audible gulp along with her choked, thank you check him back into his manners. She might have toyed with him, albeit unknowingly, but he welcomed it. He doubted that she was 100% sure if she wanted that reciprocated, so he stopped. As much as it hurt him to do so, he stopped.
At the last button, he reluctantly steps back, “All done, don’t want to get sick now, do you?” 
And he manages a smile. It’s small, with just a bit of a cocky gap between his lips to white teeth. His hands slip into his front pockets, pulling his jeans forward subtly to give his dick some breathing room. He feels branded where she touched him, that sliver of skin hot with burning desire. Visions of them together flash behind his eyes like bits of a dream he’s trying hard to remember.
“You’re right,” she mumbles, “thank you.” Y/n wraps her arm around herself and can't seem to make eye contact with him.
The rational side of him that’s drowning in his tunnel vision reminds him that he’s there to do something (deliver drugs), so he moves around to the compartment and pulls out the paper bag. This time, it’s decorated in a field of smiling, dancing daisies sprouting from the bottom of the bag. “Here are your brownies,” giving her the bag, he laments that he’s going to have to leave her soon. 
“How much do I owe you?” Y/n blinks up at him like she’s just barely waking up. Like she’s trying hard to stay focused, just like him. But that would be silly, Harry thinks, because there’s no way they share the same feelings. She only touched him because she’s drunk, or tipsy, and he’s just a drug dealer, and no matter how much of a boner he has for her, his dreams of rutting over her like a dog in heat aren’t going to come true. She’s too delicate for him.
He feels shitty taking money from her, but that is his livelihood, and chances were the douchebags buying from her probably threw more money at her than necessary given how rich they were. So, he tells her the total, and he hands him- just like he expected- crisp bills.
“Thank you,” he says, taking the money from her and shoving it into his compartment. His legs make no move to straddle his bike, even though that’s what his brain tells them to do. They’re not really listening to him though. And y/n stands them holding the bag, staring at the shattered glass and worrying her lip between her teeth. She’s not in any rush to get back inside, so Harry asks her a question- something that’s been on his mind ever since he left her the last time- to keep her out a little longer, “h-how was it? Last time, I mean. Smoking with those people?”
The girl straightens at the memory, suddenly energized. “Oh! I didn’t actually do it. They tried to get me to, but I didn’t in the end.” 
Jerking his chin towards the bag in her hand, “Do y’plan on eating some of these?” 
Y/n shakes her head, “Not really, I have work tomorrow. So does everyone else but,” she shrugs, pursing her lips a little and looks over her shoulder at the house. The relatively quiet house. “I already drank a little more than I should have.” 
“I see.” Nodding, he’s left with no other choice but to reach for his helmet to put it back on. It’s time to leave. For the life of him, he can’t seem to figure out why such a sweet girl would continue to choose to hang out with people like this. Who drink and do drugs recklessly. He was concerned for her safety, and he made a mental note to ask Mitch about it. He wasn’t anyone to tell her what to do. 
He wishes he were, but he wasn’t. 
“Well, be safe, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you,” and she waves at him with a small, shy smile. The cardigan is already slipping off her shoulder even though it was buttoned up, and she turns around to walk back into the house.
Harry’s finally gotten to dozing off when his phone rings. 
Blindly, he slaps his hand around and curses whoever is on the other end of the line for interrupting his maladaptive dreaming about y/n. He got home grumpy, slamming doors behind him and stomping around his own home. Feeling sorry for himself, he had turned on his Sade playlist and allowed her smoky voice to lull him to sleep. Creases had decorated the space between his thick brows, his pink lips literally turned upside down and occasionally he mumbled curse words at himself. In effort to relieve his own stress, he turned on a lavender candle, and it burned dimly on his bedside. 
“Yeah?” He rasps sleepily into the phone, annoyance dripping from his voice. 
There’s a couple of sniffles on the other end. This gets his attention, his eyes snapping open as his ears strain to listen, and then, “H-Harry?” 
Was he still dreaming? Harry bolted upright from his bed, dragging a hand over his face. Was that actually y/n’s weepy, crying voice leaking through his speaker? He recognized the normally sweet voice, but instead of shy and timid, it was shaky and sad… maybe even a little panicked. 
“Y/n?” Harry asked, spiking up in volume as a million-and-one scenario of her in danger played out in his mind. “What’s wrong?” 
She hiccuped, “I-I was- Everyone was- They gave me a piece and said I should- But I didn’t want to and they- I don’t-” The poor girl was making no sense, and couldn’t seem to keep track of her thoughts, whether it be because she was too frazzled, or her irregular sobs stole the rest of her sentences and she would start new. The fact that he has just woken up, remnants of sleep leaving him more and more by the second, didn’t help either. He had to get her to calm down somehow. 
“Sweetheart,” He interjected, repeating the endearment twice before she stopped talking long enough for him to get his word in. “ Listen to me… Take a deep breath, listen to my voice.” 
Y/n made a long, keening noise, and something stirred his gut like the whirls of dark waters in turbulent seas. This wasn’t normal. She wasn’t herself, which only left one thing, “I’m trying but my skin feels weird and-” 
She was having a bad trip. 
Those fuckers have coerced her into taking something, whether it be the brownies he sold her, or some other drugs they had in the house. Y/n had taken drugs against her will, and she was stuck in a place where she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with anyone there because these were the same people that bullied her at her workplace. The situation she was in, and the simple fact that they did not respect when she said no made his blood boil. He felt like a caged cat, pacing back and forth, tail swiping low on the ground. 
But his next thought cowed him.
If the drugs she had consumed were his brownies, did that mean he was partially to blame? He was responsible for there being something to press on her, to begin with, wasn’t he? He delivered them into her hands, which she then transferred to her party, and they turned it around on her. Harry was at the start of all of this. 
He sat up, and ran his hand through his hair, swallowing back the sour taste that started at the back of his mouth and twisted his chest. Pushing all of it aside, he focused on her, “I know darling, I know. Close y’eyes. S’gonna be okay, y/n. Close your eyes.”
Rough, uneven breaths reverberated through his speaker, and he realized she was trying to calm herself. Harry wanted to scream and punch something. This is his fault. She was having a bad trip because of him. There were times when he was feeling generous and upped the milligram ingredient in his pastries, and he can’t remember if he did that this time but regardless, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt he’s ever felt this guilty. He could have said no, when she texted him. Or not respond at all. But he was selfish and wanted to see her. This is where his selfishness got him.
“M’kay.” She responds a little more sure, but it isn’t enough for him. He started this mess, now he has to fix it. He gets out of bed again, in such a rush that his duvet ends up strewn on the floor, and he reaches to tug his recklessly discarded jeans over his long legs. He yanks a burgundy knit sweater that he finds- also on the floor- but he’s not cold. He’s sweating with anxiety, and the sweater was just for her benefit. What if y/n is cold again? Harry has to be better not, he can’t fuck up with her anymore like this. He was going to take it off again as soon as he saw her and be shirtless again with his leather jacket. 
 With the device pressed between his shoulder and ear, he buttoned up his pants and shoves his feet into the first pair of shoes he found, “Y’got your eyes closed f’me?”
“Yes, Harry,” she whimpers again, sounding so unsure, so small, and fuck, the crack down the middle of his heart grows. Closing your eyes while high was scary, especially if you were having a bad trip, Harry knows that having a handful of negative experiences himself, but it was the one thing he could think of right now. To get her to focus on his voice rather than anything going on around her. Wherever she was. 
“Good girl. Now just listen to me, okay,” walking out of his room, he swiped his keys off his kitchen counter, and snagged his leather jacket from -surprise, surprise- off the floor right before entering the garage, “Where are you right now?”
“I’m… I think I’m in a bathroom,” y/n peeps a response. 
“Alright, good. Good, sweetheart. Now how much did you take?” Putting the jacket on, Harry turns the key in the ignition and straddles his bike. He presses the button he keeps on his keys for the garage door, and walks his bike out. The street lamps in his neighborhood are on, illuminating patches of the concrete like polka dots. 
There’s some noise in the background. It sounds like knocking and the call of her name. “M’not sure… maybe… maybe half? They’re knocking on the door, Harry.” 
She’s so scared. For the first time, he realizes that she doesn’t trust anyone there. That’s why she was calling him. If there was, she would be resting her head in their lap, and talking things out with them. That’s what you do when you’re high. And this was her first fucking time doing any kind of drug? They made her take more than what she was supposed to. 
“All at once? Don’t listen to them, sweetheart, focus on me.” This time, the timbre of his voice is livid. He didn’t take kindly to these kinds of things, and he was going to find some way to get back at all of them. 
“Yeah, I took a bite only but Alana said I would be a party pooper if I didn’t eat more, so I did because everyone was watching.” There’s more noise, yelling. The knocking gets louder.
“Fuck!” Slapping his hand against his helmet, Harry tilts his head back and wills himself to calm down. He couldn’t drive like this. 
She gasps, startled, “Did I do something wrong? Oh my God, am I going to die? Harry, am I-”
“Shh, no. No, y/n. Everything is going to be fine. I’m on my way, okay. Everything is going to be fine. Can you set a timer for eight minutes on your phone, and walk outside when it rings?” He nears the end of his driveway, shaking his head at his lack of restraint. He had to hold it together for her.
“Yeah,” she responds.
“Perfect, I’ll be right there. I’m coming to get you, okay?” He’s firm in his delivery, so she doesn’t have any reason to doubt him. 
“Okay…” her single-word answer drags out, and he waits for her to say more. “Do you have to hang up?”
“I do, darling. My motorcycle helmet doesn’t have a Bluetooth mouthpiece, so I won’t be able to hear you. It’s only eight minutes, I promise.” He decides not to pay attention to how easily the endearment terms are rolling off his tongue, and to the sure-ness in his sternum that was missing at the start of their meetings. 
“Alright. Bye, Harry.” 
He doesn’t say bye, because it isn’t one. “I’ll see you in a little bit.” 
***
On his five (FIVE!!!) minute drive to y/n, full of felonies and annoyed car horns, Harry decides two things. One, owning a motorcycle is probably the best decision he’s ever made because it allows him to do things like this, and two, he’s come to the conclusion that he no longer cares for social formalities, and he’s going to… honor his cravings as long as y/n lets him. He knows that the moment he gets there, he’s going to want to coddle her, tug her to his side, and hide her inside his jacket as much as he could, like a bear with food in the winter. Besides, it wouldn’t be so bad to provide the feeling of safety if she needed it. In fact, he was eager to. He decides that just for today, it’s okay. 
Because he gets there three minutes earlier than the time he told her, so even though he doesn’t have to, he rushes to park his bike, swinging off of it before it’s even rolled to a complete stop and jogging up the long driveway to wait by some bushes near the window. He was partially obscured from the front door, and he wanted to stay that way in case Y/n wasn’t the first person to walk out. 
Sweat coated the back of his neck while the rest of him was ice cold. Looking each and every way, he took off his jacket and slipped off the knit sweater to slip it over her head as soon as he could. Harry listened intently, the ragged sound of his own breathing filling his ears as he tried to pick up on any noise that might indicate trouble, but all he heard was faint chattering and the occasional bout of loud, loopy chortles. 
Momentarily after, those voices get louder, some of them aggressive, and there are sounds of movement. The heavy pattern of feet moving quickly, the scratch of furniture on the floor. Someone- a female- is asking where someone is going, and Harry knows it’s y/n. Running to the door, he makes it just as it swings open, and a very red-eyed y/n stands there, one hand on the door with her eyes on the floor. She’s mumbling, something over and over, and he thinks one of those words is his name. 
He’s reaching out to encase her in his arms when she blinks a few times, slowly, like she's just waking up, and her eyes are dragging up her body to register his face. 
Tilting her head to the side confusedly, she steps out, closes the door behind her, and mumbles, “Harry’s waiting for me.” 
His heart melts and he feels the bursting of a thousand suns in his chest. Smiling down at her invertebrate state, with his eyes softening and a gentle caramel-like baritone streaming through the rough in his voice, “I’m here, darling. Come with me.” 
Poor thing is so out of it, her eyes start to water, her chin trembling and her shoulders beginning to shake with the rattles of oncoming sobs. Had he spooked her? Her eyes were puffy and hooded, but he knows that doesn’t mean she can’t see him. Y/n is probably just overwhelmed, he thinks. She’s out in the dark and cold, high, and he’s a tall, scary figure looming over her. Voices inside are getting closer, their sentences running over each other so that he can’t really understand what they’re saying, only that they sound upset. 
Ignoring the rumble that is bound to get to them, Harry kneels down to her level and takes hold of her cold trembling hands in his large ones, bringing them to his chest to get her to focus on him, “lovie, s’me,” he pleads for her to recognize him, “I’m Harry, I came f’you like I said I would, y/n.” 
“Y/n!” A man inside, short and skinny but snooty looking with a sharp, shark-like face stalks towards them. His parade of three- two blonde girls and a dark-haired guy- follow behind him. They all have glasses in their hands. One of them had a cigarette. “What are you doing?”
At the sound of her name, y/n’s eyes shut tightly, and her chest rises quickly with sharp breaths that escape her mouth. Dropping her head, a long whine seeps away from her like a sticky substance, and Harry wants to wipe it all away. He’s not sure why he’s reacting this way, or what he should do to help her, because he’s had bad trips but they’ve all been hallucinogen-based.
“Baby-” 
“Y/n” the asshole with the dark hair calls her name so arrogantly, Harry can’t help but wonder what they’re like sober, “who is that? Will you come back inside? We’re about to start playing pass-blow.” 
They’ve interrupted him twice now, and with every second that passes, he gets huffier. Frustrated. Angry. Because he’s just trying to talk to this angel and they’re overwhelming her. Y/n is whimpering now, her hands moist in his, and she’s sniffling every few seconds. 
“Y/n,” he tries again to get her to look at him, to say something. He doesn’t want to act inappropriately, and with her consent already being disregarded once tonight, he’s doing everything in his power to get her to speak what she wants. 
With glassy eyes, y/n dazedly stared at him for a moment. Her expression was stuck between confusion and sadness, her lips downturned and her brows furrowed, “Wanna leave, H.” 
Harry nodded at her, “Okay, we can leave.” Then he stood up and grabbed the sweater over his shoulder, “Put this on first, lovie. It’s cold.” Slipping it over her head and helping her stick her arms through, he tugged it all the way down, near to her knees, all the while ignoring the group that started and whispered behind her. When he was done, he pulled her under his arm and walked in the direction of his bike. 
All of two seconds passed before an agitating, grating voice interrupted them, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 
Harry can’t take it anymore. Placing his hand at the back of her head to cup her to his chest while he turns around to spit out a response at this douchebag, he takes deep breaths and tries to focus on her comfort. He tries to focus on the warmth of her breath against his chest and the way one hand is wrapped around his wrist, her fingers drawing loose circles on the tender skin, and the other is clutching his shirt tightly. But he feels that he has to say something, in some weird ‘marking my territory’ kind of way.
“Fuck off, asshole! You’re not getting shit from me anymore,” Y/n jumps in his arms at the tone and volume of his voice, and the wimp shrinks back, too. He mumbles something about it ‘not being fair’ like a whiny child and turns around. Harry gently removes her hand from his wrist so he can wrap it around her shoulders, and starts walking down the pathway back to his motorcycle, whispering, “C’mon baby, walk with me. Do you want me to take you somewhere? I can call an Uber? Sarah’s house? We can go back to my place, too. Y’name it, love, I’ll do it for you.” 
“Okay.” If she’s surprised at his sudden softening, she doesn’t show it. Hell, she’s probably too out of it to do anything but appreciate anyone that is considerate to her current state, given that she was hanging around assholes who were making fun of her while she was having a bad trip. 
They reach his bike, and Harry guides her by her shoulders to sit with her butt on the side of his seat. He crouches down in front of her, and wraps his hand on the back of her shins, grasping firmly to give her some kind of sensation to ground herself on. The loopy look in her eye that was there when he first arrived has drifted away like mist in a breeze, and she’s looking at him a bit more clearly. 
“You still doing okay?” He asks, trying to catch her eyes but y/n is fiddling with her fingers and looks a little… frustrated? “Y/n? Can you tell me what you want to do, love?”
“M’sorry,” Her lower lip wobbles and there’s a small tremble in her chin. Her eyes, when she finally finds his, are watery, and it makes Harry’s heart pinch. He wants to hold her until she’s okay. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but can we... go back to your place?”
He rises then and cups her face in his hands to ensure that she’s looking at him. A little voice in his head is telling him that he’s being too touchy and needs to tone it down, but y/n can’t seem to keep her hands off him. His elbows are warmed through his jacket by her nimble fingers. 
Cooing at her almost, “Hey, s’kay. Y/n okay. No crying, alright? I’m happy that I could be here to help you, okay? Of course, we can go back to my place, as long as you’re cool with it. Are you comfortable riding on my motorcycle right now? I can order an uber if you aren’t.”
 “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Nodding, she sniffles and looks into his eyes finally. They sparkle underneath the light, like stars are trapped in her pupils, and the sight takes his breath away. She’s still whispering, but it’s no longer as panicked and short. It might just be the brownies wearing off, or her high calming down. 
“Right, then.” Before letting go of her sweet face, he swipes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks in a soothing motion. He walks around to the back of his bike and unlocks the compartment to take out a spare helmet. Holding it up, he gestures for her to tilt her head towards him, “safety first.” 
“Your eyes are pretty. Like that thing that makes Superman weak.”  
“Kryptonite, baby?” He secures the helmet on her head and makes sure it fits by tilting her head this way and that to check for wiggle room. When he’s satisfied, he raises the glass panel and murmurs, “and yours are prettier than mine.”
“Mhm,” she blinks blearily up at him, and his heart expands three times its size in his chest.  “And you really think so?” 
“I know so.” They share a small smile, and Harry’s nose is pink from the cold and the warmth of her gaze. He swings a leg over to straddle his bike, and scoots forward to make space for her, and pats the seat behind him.  “Come sit behind me, love.” 
Y/n grabs the hand that he holds out for her, and clumsily takes the seat. 
“Now hold on to me. Hands around my waist,” There’s a strange pitch in his voice, and he has to clear his throat before speaking. Y/n listens to every word he says and places her hands on his waist so lightly, they might as well not even be there. The touch, as innocent as it might be, makes him squirm, and to hide it, he grabs them, and brings them around so she can splash her own fingers at his belly button. “Tighter, sweetheart. I don’t want you to slip off. If you don’t want to see, you can press your face into my neck, okay.” 
“Okay,” she peeps. Harry pats her hands and turns his key in the ignition. 
“Ready?” With his ankle, he kicks the stand up, and looks over his shoulder to check in on her. The muscles in his stomach are doing a strange tightening and flexing because they don’t know how to act normally under her touch.
“Yes.” 
She squeezes her arms tightly around his waist, and she can feel her face pressing into his back as he starts his engine to take her home.
*** 
“Who were those people?” 
It seemed as though removing her from the situation (Harry hates even thinking about the word because it wasn’t a situation, it was a fucking catastrophe that the poor little thing had to go through what she did) had been the best thing to do. From the looks of it, y/n was having a pretty normal high now, asking him if he had anything to snack on that was sweet and tart because she was hungry and her mouth was dry. 
He kept himself well stocked on berries and fruit for this exact reason, so while he stood at the aisle in the middle of his kitchen cutting strawberries into nifty little hearts and tossing them into a bowl with freshly rinsed raspberries and blueberries, y/n sat on the barstool, watching him and humming a little tune. She was much different from the way she had been fifteen minutes ago, when they had just walked into his house, blubbering about how she was so sorry that he was losing sleep because of her, and how she still didn’t feel right. It took ten minutes of holding her in his lap on the couch (he still felt overly warm at having her so close to him),  shushing and cooing at her, letting her know that everything was alright while stroking her hair, and another three before she stopped crying, and let him know he had a nice voice that tickled her spine and that she had the munchies. 
Not that she called them that, of course. Harry doesn’t think she had ever heard the term, given how she knows fuck all about drugs and being high, just said “I’m hungry, h. Do you have anything tart and sweet? It feels like there’s a dragon in my belly.” 
So he chucked, rubbed her back as he slipped her onto the spot next to him, and let her know that he had just the thing, and that he would be right back. But that didn’t stop her from trailing behind him like a duckling imprinted on her new human, pitter-pattering all over his tiled floor.
He hopes that she doesn’t feel like he’s prying, because while he was curious to know what compelled her to keep that kind of company, he wanted to know anything about her. This just seemed like a good segway into her. 
Y/n is bobbing her head side to side to keep time with the cat clock he has up on the wall. She’s matching pace with its swinging tail, and clicking her tongue every second, pausing only briefly to say, “my co-workers,” in a chipper tone. 
Casually, he hums, “The ones that bully you?”
“Yeah!” She’s quick to respond, and quick to realize what she confirmed. Meaning she also realized Harry knew something she had never told him about, and this confuses her. Snapping her head away from the clock, he watches as her shoulders droop and she takes in what he said. The gears were turning clearly on her face, when finally, she spits out her question warily, “Hey… how’d you know that?”
Harry froze mid-strawberry heart. He couldn’t exactly say that he had been asking Mitch about her, and that had told her about her relationship with everyone at work because then that would make him seem more like a creep and less like a love-struck infatuated fool,  but he also didn’t want to lie to her completely. He had to stick with a little white lie,  “umm, Sarah mentioned something about observing shitty things happening at work, and she mentioned your name.”
“Oh,” y/n’s lips form a little pout, “Are you mad?” When those words come out of her mouth, the possibility of him seemingly being mad at her starts overwhelming her senses, and she starts sputtering again, “I’m sorry- I’m just- I feel off, I-I shouldn’t have eaten that brownie. I’m sorry. You probably think I’m a wimp.”
With sympathetically pursed lips, Harry shakes his head and gently soothes her worries, “I’m not mad. Y’just having a bad trip, sweetheart. It happens sometimes, even to me. When you’re not in a comfortable environment, it happens.” He finishes with the final strawberry slice, and slides the bowl across the way for her, “this is for you, should help with the munchies. Want some water?” 
“Please and thank you,” she mumbles around a bite of pink fruit. Sliding a glass across the table, Harry stands across the island to watch her. Y/n hand one hand wrapped around the small bowl, and the other holds fruit to her pouty red lips, swollen by the assault of her teeth. A trail of juice glistens down the side of her finger, and he watches, transfixed, as a pink tongue flicks out to lap up the mess in one, two, or three, tiny licks. A thick glob of saliva collects at the back of his throat because she's moaning, too. Little satisfied hums of pleasure and barely audible sounds of suction don’t escape him. 
Blood rushes to the center of him, tenting his pants and he has to go somewhere because fuck she might see it if he has to get close to her. 
Clearing his throat, Harry averts his eyes and tries to find somewhere else to set his eyes. Anywhere else because it’s so easy to picture his the ruddy mushroomed head of his cock pressed against her mouth like the tip of the strawberry heart, glistening with the moisture of precum and strings of her saliva as she wipes away his mess with her tongue like an eager little puppy. 
What was wrong with him? She needed his help, and had turned to him when she needed him. She had already had people pouncing on her, she didn’t need someone else chasing her skirts. 
“S’good, Harry,” y/n gulped down the last few pieces, and Harry blinked. Hard. “Can I have some more?”
There was a wide, lazy feline smile on her mouth. She looked… hazy. A bit sweaty. Disheveled.  Y/n looked freshly fucked, and stray drops of fruit around her mouth were making it so incredible hard for him to breathe, “no more lovie,” he managed to say, “or you’ll get a stomachache.” 
“Okay, H,” y/n yawned, unfazed by his rejection. Unaware of how crazy Harry was about her right now. His composure was fraying by the second. His mind played visions of them together like little prophecies, his tongue licking a stripe across the side of her face as he pounded her from behind so hard her eyes teared up. Her nails left little marks on his back from where she tried to grab leverage to bounce faster in his lap. Her skin dipping where Harry pawed at her to bring back against his dick. Fuck, he had to go into the restroom and tuck his boner into his pants. 
“Sleepy?” He rasped, voice trembling, eyes glued to her glassy doe eyes, “come, I’ll show you to your bed.” It was easier to be quiet and gentle with her. A calm version of him meant a restrained version of him. Clean as opposed to filthy. Good instead of bad. 
Her bed was really his bed. In his hurry to angle himself in such a way that she won’t see his raging erection, she forgets the state of disarray his bedroom is in. He walks slowly so he can hear the pitter-patter of her feet trailing after him, and stops at his door. Opening it, he inwardly cringes at everything inside. Blankets strewn all over the expanse of his mattress. Untucked and unaligned. One of his pillows on the floor instead of on the bed, and a rolling tray with crumbles of weed and baked mango bits on his bedside table. 
Harry rushed to that first, not wanting her to see anything else related to drugs. So much for a first impression. What a way to enforce the bum-drug dealer stereotype. 
“Promise m’not this messy,” he grumbles, picking up loose t-shirts and sweaters off the floor as he goes to turn on the lamp (swipe the tray away before she has a chance to see it), “it was a rough night. Was having a hard time sleeping.” 
Y/n squeaks behind him and he turns. She’s still standing by the doorway, “t-this is your bed?” 
Oh, God, she hates it. Harry starts swiping blankets off the bed to remake it for her. What was thinking, giving the sweet girl a messy bed?.“Yeah. I know it’s a little messy but I promise the mattress is comfortable. I bought it last year because I was having back problems a-”
“Where will you sleep?”
He starts tucking cover on the edges of his mattress, trying to be quick about it so she can see it’ll be neat for her. “On the couch, lovie.” 
“B-but… this is your bed?” y/n poses it like a question, but Harry can hear the guilt in her voice because she would be taking his bed. 
“I know that,” smiling softly at her, he shakes out and fluffs the pillows. “But I want you to sleep here instead. It’s much better than the couch.” 
“Are you sure?” Her fingers tangle at her navel.m
He nods and tucks the used blanket under his arm to take to the couch with him. “More than, sweetheart,” Looking at her attire, he pulls open his drawer and grabs some items for him and a few for her, “want to change into something else or is that okay for you? Can give you a sweater or a t-shirt.” 
Eyes lighting up at the large black shirt, y/n reaches out and points to it, “Can I have a shirt, please?” 
“When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does. But it happens, low and gravelly like the drag of a big cat’s tail on a cave floor. He sees the way her cheeks burn with his effect, and his cock throbs in his pants. He needs to get out of the room.  “There’s a restroom down the hall if you have to go, and an extra toothbrush in the cabinet. I’m gonna sleep right outside, so let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Y/n nods, “Okay.” 
The moment he closes the door slightly behind him, his hand clutches his ground, shifting it sideways so he’s not pressing up against the zipper. 
It was going to be a long night. 
***
Harry wakes up to the sound of mewling. 
Which is strange because he doesn’t own a cat, and high-pitched whimpering sounds are coming from… his bedroom? They’re muffled because his door is half closed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes- if you can even call it that, he was tossing and turning because he couldn’t focus on sleeping knowing the object of his main thoughts is only a few strides away- Harry swings his feet off the side of the couch and pushes off with his knuckles. The sweatpants he had on dragged down low on his hips, the slant of his Adonis belt, and the thin skin right above the base of his cock visible. Sleepily, he tugged them higher and pressed the door open to check in on y/n.
And he felt his heart stop in his chest at what he saw.
Y/n was writhing in his bed, the sheet tangled between her legs and she was naked. Her face was flushed with tears, her chest choked up with sobs she was trying to keep down by biting on his pillow. Her hair was wild from her erratic movements caused by… well Harry didn’t know what. 
He rushed to her side, “Y/n! Y/n, baby.” 
A gasp wrenched itself from her chest, eyes were blown wide so that he could see how red they were, swollen at the waterline. She yelped like just his touch hurt him, and after removing his hands to ease her pain, Harry frantically ran his gaze all over her body, looking for anywhere she might be hurt. To see if maybe she had had some kind of reaction to the drugs she had taken. 
“What is it, love? Talk to me,” he whispers, not wanting to scare her even more. His thick brows are furrowed heavily, eyes heavy with concern and a touch of sleep. He had never felt so helpless before, at a loss for what to do. He wanted to cradle her close to his chest and rock her sweetly until her crying stopped. 
Y/n keened, whiny and long, “I’m sorry, Harry.” 
“Why are you sorry, lovie? Tell me what’s wrong so I can make it all okay,” he rubs a hand across her head, featherlight but enough to brush the hair away so he could see her clearly. She turned to him, following his touch with her nose like an animal searching for the warmth of touch, and then curled deeper into herself, hands clutching at her navel, “do we have to go to the hospital, y/n?”
“I was hungry, H,” y/n shuts her eyes tightly and gulps a breath of air, “but you said no more.. and there were brownies in the drawer.” 
Harry rubs her back, transfixed by y/n’s bizarre actions as she moans at his touch. Cocking his head to the side, he mumbles what she said, “brownies in the…” 
Realization dawned on in. 
No, no, no, no. Looking at the bedside table that previously housed his rolling tray, it now was covered with two, blood-red pieces of crumpled foil crumbs of chocolate dotted around the trash. The words Kitty-kat Brat in a sensual, curly font stamped on the side. A script of warning on the side said that each partner should only consume a fourth of the brownie every hour as desired and that after consumption, the effect would only be sated by the exhaustion of endorphins. And at the top, in a glitter color: aphrodisiac. 
Y/n had consumed two aphrodisiacs that Harry kept for himself on the occasion that a partner might want to experiment with them. The poor girl was hurting because she was… so fucking horny. 
“Oh, lovie,” Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck was he going to do? Leave her? No, he couldn’t do that when… when her pussy was weeping for attention. Call someone else to help? When help meant she would get fucked so hard she’d be cock-dumb? Absolutely not. But also, Harry didn’t feel right touching her when she was clearly under another influence. And if he didn’t feel right doing it himself, why the fuck would he let someone else do it? With a curled knuckle, he hooks her chin and forces her to look at him,  “can you tell me exactly what it is you’re feeling? S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.” 
Y/n shuts her eyes and tries to yank her chin away, but Harry tightens his grip, pinching the sides of her mouth so she can’t move, “can’t do that, H.” 
It’s laughable really, he thinks. How whiny she’s being when her actions are the reason she was in this position. He had told her no more, and did she listen to him? No. In fact, she went looking through his drawers and ate his brownies, which he did not give permission for her to do. 
If there was one thing that got him riled up, it was girls who didn’t listen and then cried at the consequences of their own actions. 
He chuckled at her, even though he was surprised at the change in his feelings about the situation, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. Here he was, thinking she was this innocent little thing. And she eats his fucking sex brownies. Shaking his head, he taps her cheek with his finger to get her to pay attention to him, “I need to know what’s happening so I can find some way to help. Aren’t you hurting, baby?”
Keening, back arching off the bed, she cries, “So badly, Harry. My… pussy hurts. I’ve already cum so many times but nothing I do is working!” Blood rushes to his dick at the lewd confession. How long she has been in here with her fingers rubbing her cunt with him just outside the door. Muffling her moans so he doesn’t hear them. The thought makes him groan internally. “It doesn’t feel right.” 
His voice is low and gravelly, filled with a hunger that was kindling in his loins in preparation to spread like wildfire. “What doesn’t feel right?” He asked. 
“Me doing it myself,” she swallows wetly, and her hand comes up to grip his wrist, Her thighs are chafed from how urgently she keeps rubbing them together, and through the lace of her bralette he can see how hard her nipples are. The glassy look in her eyes isn’t just from tears, it’s a reflection of how deep her need goes.  “I-I… I want someone else to do it. I want you to do it.” 
Little crescents of broken skin are left in her wake, and he lets her. The sting of pain is keeping him centered at the moment. The sound of her harsh breathing, rustling of the mattress springs from all her movement, and the bursts of circling motion at her hips are testing him. He wants to squeeze the tip of his dick to alleviate some of the aches that are settling there. “You want me to do what, sweet thing?” 
 “I want you to help me, H. Please?” Blinking at him blearily, y/n pouts. She was begging him. 
Crooning to her with a condescending pout of his own, Harry cups the side of her face and runs a thumb under her eyes were tears have started falling once more, “help you what? Use your words.” 
Y/n huffs and sobs, her heels sliding against the mattress, “help me cum! Please, I can’t take it anymore.” 
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at me, y/n. I said look at me,” he shakes her by the grip he has on her face gently to get her to snap out of the whining and whimpering. Needing her eyes on him so that he could read her, he asks “Are you sure about this?” 
“Yes, yes. I am. Please do something.” 
“Ask nicely.” 
The girl is back to mewling, taking the hand on her face and moving it down to her legs so that Harry would get the hint, “please touch me, H.” 
Y/n pulls him down onto the bed by his hand, and Harry lets her tug at him until he’s sitting down next to her before he pulls out of her grip and grabs both of her hands in one. Placing them above her head, he looks at her pointedly, eyes dark, so she doesn’t move her hands from where he leaves them. Big hands splayed wide across her trailed down the sides of her waist and stopped at her hips, rubbing gentle circles, “Open y’legs, don’t be shy now. M’just gonna help, and I need to see what I’m working with.” 
Briefly, she mumbles some kind of complaint, the remnants of any modesty making themselves known, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He waited, glaring at her almost, until she allowed her thighs to fall open freely, and he hummed low at the back of his throat. Sliding his palms up the inside of her thigh, he began to talk to her in a tone that many didn’t get to hear, “want my fingers, lovie? Or my mouth? Don’t think you deserve my cock for being naughty and touching something that wasn’t yours. Only good girls get my cock.” 
“Everything, H. I’m sorry, won’t do it again. Give me anything you want,” y/n weeps, her hands in a fist above her head digging into the pillow that is halfway out of its case from all her moving around. 
“Think I’ll pet y’weepy cunt first, hmm? How does that sound?” Harry bites back a moan and feels the tip of his dick rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants. Reaching down to adjust himself doesn’t seem like a priority when his girl is beneath him with her legs wide open and pleas are falling from her lips for him to touch her. The inside of her thighs are irritated, the black gusset of her thin underwear stained white with the cream of her pussy. He wants to press his nose against her and lick her clean. His mouth is watering for him to do something of the sort but instead, he hooks her underwear aside and… 
And his own hips buck forward against his will. She’s so slick, it's running down the seam of her ass and onto his bedsheets. Drops of her creamy cut sit on the edge of her hole, accumulated from her previous orgasms. Y/n twists uncomfortably and pants. Harry, wanting to hear her cries again, smears her cum with two fingers around her entrance, and slides them into her pussy. 
“Perfe- oh, God.” She clenches around him, and he can feel that spongy place brush against the tip of his finger the second before she starts twitching from an orgasm. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream and her head tilts back into the mattress. Harry smirks as she cums from one touch, and his own jaw drops at the amount of moisture that comes out of her, dripping onto his knuckles. 
Guiding her through it, Harry continues moving his fingers at a steady pace, bringing his thumb up to the hood of her mound to press against her clit, “Oh, y’poor thing. Just a touch and y’already gushing on m’hand? Thought I was gonna have to try for it. Y’cum this easy for everyone, lovie, or jus’ me?” He leans over her with a hand braced beside her head and whispers into her ear,  “how ‘bout I work f’the next one?” 
Ripples of need were running down his spine and to his groin but he focused all of his energy into paying attention to what made her react the most. Listening for the hitch in her breath. He dragged his fingers out slowly, curling them on the inside of her wall as he did so where was persistent pressure leading up to her g-spot, and y/n made an animalistic noise mixed between a whine and cry. His tongue lolled against the side of her ear, the skin hot and flushed from the heat of her body. Harry nipped the tender flesh of her neck and waited to hear her yelp to soothe the sting with his tongue. Kissing his way down to her throat, he presses his fingers into her as far as they go and runs circles around her clit while keeping steady pressure on the bundle of nerves inside of her. He’s rubbing her inside and outside, slowly, slowly, and then starts picking up the pace. 
Y/n is mewling, her tits in the air as her back lifts up in a hold.  Her moans are becoming louder, her pussy tightening around his fingers and he knows she’s going to orgasm again. He’s mumbling how good she is being for him against the side of her breast, his nose holding back the flimsy lace as he leaves the plush skin and fights the urge to cant his hips into the bed like a dog in heat. He feels hot everywhere, like the heat turned on by itself in his room, and when y/n’s fingers curl into his hair and pull as she cums again and screams his name he can’t find it in him to reprimand her. Harry just talks her through it. 
“Good girl, y/n. Y’being so good for me. Think you can give me another, lovie? Because I want one more. Y’gonna give me one more, okay?” Cooing at the way she digs her head back into the pillows and shakes her head, Harry increases his rhythm so that the muscles in his bicep flex with every move. She’s still spasming around him from the orgasm she’s riding, but he doesn’t let it end, “ah, you’re so cute, saying no but this little cunt is weeping yes. Who am I to deny her, hmm?” 
She’s adamantly shaking her head no, eyes lulling shut and her mouth slacks with a cry, “too much… too much, h. Sensitive, please-”
“Weren’t you begging for it earlier, y/n? M’only giving you what you asked for,”  Harry thinks he could cum just from watching her body tense with unyielding pleasure. Her eyes are rolling into the back of her head and Harry is back to fucking her fast and hard with his fingers while licking and sucking on her nipple, “that’s it. That’s it right there isn’t it, baby? Abusing y’special spot so it’s too much for you, hmm?” 
He’s muffled against her skin and the sound of her wet pussy being penetrated by his fingers is so filthy, his own eyes roll into the back of his head. He takes a deep breath and smells the sex on her, the tanginess of her juices zinging his tastebuds, and god he has to taste her. 
“Yes, yes, please, Harry,” y/n is anguished, heels set firmly so she can meet his hand halfway, and she's so erratic he can’t focus on anything else but the furious pace she’s set. 
“Gonna cum, baby?” Harry groans, moving one of his legs so one of hers is in between his, and the movement of her shin against his crotch makes him pant. Every muscle is tense with a restraint that is slowly melting away. With every rub of her against him- she’s doing it unknowingly, and he’s rutting against her- he’s closer to spurting in his sweatpants. 
“Mhm,” her affirmation drags out into breathless gasps as the weak squeeze unclenches and clenches all over again as another orgasm rolls through her. 
He can’t take it anymore. He removes his hand to give her a chance to recover, takes the hand covered in her cum, and sticks it down his pants. Hissing at the relief he gets from squeezing himself from base to tip has him seeing white. 
“Good girl, baby,” stroking himself, he nuzzles against her chin. He wants to kiss her but he wants to talk them both up into a frenzy. “Took it so well, let me treat y’little pussy right. Does she still want more?” y/n nods, sniffling and scrunching her nose, “you do? Want my mouth or my fingers next, lovie?”
“I want more than that. It’s not… not enough,” she whimpers. 
Harry cocks his head to the side and thrusts into his hand once more before going to touch her again. He’s painfully hard, and the catch of his tip against the terrycloth fabric inside is overstimulating him. “Not enough? I made you come three times and it wasn’t enough?”
“Give me more, Harry, please I-I need it,” y/n angles her hips in his direction again. A thin film of sweat coats her skin, and the baby hairs at her temple are sticking to the skin. Her eyes are red, but she’s not crying anymore, and a line of clear snot trails into her upper lip that she keeps sniffling. She looks thoroughly fucked now before Harry’s even stuck his cock in her. He cleans her face with the edge of a blanket and kisses her under each eye. Before he can right himself again, she pulls him back down by his hair and presses her mouth against his. Little pecks at first, and then she’s licking at the seam of his mouth, all the while Harry just smirks. He doesn’t kiss her back at first, and when she starts to cry about it, he leans in and devours her mouth. 
He’s brutal in his kiss, sticking his tongue in his mouth and knocking his teeth against hers. She tastes sweet, like chocolate and strawberries and weed. Y/n melts against him, opening up her lips to him and licking back like a cat. When they separate, a string of saliva connects their mouths. 
“What do you need? Hmm? Want my mouth and my fingers, too? No?” He hums low, pretending to think of naughty ways to get her off, when in reality, he’s already thought of a million and one, “want to ride one off on my thigh? Rub that wet thing between y’legs all over mine and leave a sticky mess behind? Y’might give y’self a burn, but that’s what you get for poking into something y’should have.”
“No. I’m sorry, H, just please- help me-” she pleads meekly. 
“I want to help y’lovie, but y’gotta tell me because I’m running out of ideas here,” before he can finish her sentence, she makes a frustrated huff and buries her head into his neck. Y/n wraps her leg around his, trying to pull him on her but all she manages is to lift herself up and grind her molten core on the hard ridges of his abs. An absurdly loud moan resonates throughout the room, and Harry groans at the way she ruts into the air, a pull in his abdomen demanding his dick makes contact with something. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders, and Harry has to remain tense while she uses him as leverage to push her hips up so her clit drags against the ridge just below his belly button. He’s being mean, watching her struggle and pant, sweat gathering at her temples and between her tits, but he can’t help but watch her use him. She’s so focused on trying to get herself off, it’s almost like he’s not even there as long as he isn’t moving. 
The way he watches her is so nonchalant, it’s almost as if he’s not a few touches away from cumming himself. He merely smiles lazily at her efforts, mumbling lame encouragement and telling her she was so cute while she puffed and struggled to get herself off. She couldn’t keep herself touching his abdomen for long enough to pick up a pace. When she starts to tire out, her pants turn into frustrated huffs, and her thighs quake from exertion. 
Harry chuckles, “y’need help, baby? Y’were doing just fine before. Didn’t seem to need me then.” 
She sulked, and the expression on her face was only missing the stomping of feet to resemble a tantrum, “You’re being mean!”
“Oh, darling,” he soothed, licking the salty drop of moisture that fell from the side of her eye in frustration. He wanted to keep toying with her until the only word she knew was his name in different volumes and tones, but if his own dick was hurting this badly without an added stimulant, he can’t imagine what she was feeling. He gently kissed her lips and pulled away before her eager tongue made an earnest effort to deepen their connection. “don’t cry.”
“It hurts,” y/n turned her head to the side, into the pillow to cover her face, and mindlessly ran her hands across his shoulders. A smattering of gooseflesh covered her, and for some reason, it softened him. 
“Here, why don’t we try this,” he moves them so swiftly, so she’s on top, her legs on either side of him, her center sitting atop his belly button. Harry decides that he’s going to let her have her fun for a while before taking control. “Better, lovie? Like this?” Her jaw is slack from the contact of the muscular ridges, her clit grazing against the indent of his abs as guided by his hands on her hips, dragging her back and force to set a rhythm. Hurried ah-ah-ah’s are choked out from her, and y/n tries to go faster, her thigh muscles straining against Harry’s grip. And he lets her go. 
With his elbows planted on the bed to support himself, he flexed his core and smirked in satisfaction when she mewled and humped him erratically, muttering that it felt so good, how she was so close. There had never been a time like this before, in which he practiced such restraint, but just gazing at her was enough. He began to pant with a savage abandon, entranced by the bouncing of her tits, the little huffs of breath that interrupted her cries. Precum leaked out of his dick and made a dark sport on the gray fabric of his pants at the feeling of her wet pussy rubbing against him. Using him to get off. This sweet angel who had been scared to look him in the eye at one point, who didn’t know shit about drugs, who had captivated him before he knew her name, was using him to get off. He had never felt so lucky. 
“Go on then, use me,” Harry canted his hips up to press against her as she came down on him, and groaned when the tip of his dick touched her ass. “Give this pussy what it needs, baby. Whatever she wants,” grabbing her thigh, he stroked her, swiping up and down and skating his thumb on the tender skin that wasn’t touching.“Can I rub you right here? She wants me to touch her, will y’let me?”
Nodding fervently, so eager, “Yes, please. Anything you want Harry, need to going to-”
“Cum all over my belly?” Harry suggested, his palm stopping where her thigh meets her hip so that his thumb could reach her clit and swipe against it as she moved. Her hole fluttered against him, and then he felt her start to clench, grasping around nothing as the beginnings of another burst build inside her. His thumb flicked her bundle of nerves faster, rolling longer in bursts of two or three, and then she stilled, her thighs spasming from an orgasm announced by the shout of his name. “Look at you, y’shaking,” he whispered in awe, his hips stuttering when she feebly tried to rock against him while still cumming, “and you still fucking want more.”
“Make it go way, H,” y/n pleaded, her shoulders twitching from the continuation of the orgasm she had previously. The dim lighting in the room makes it hard to see but he doesn’t miss the way she arches her back and pushes her tits out. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking them again, but he wants her to be filthy. As filthy as his thoughts were getting. 
“No.” He says, taking his hand away and watching her pussy shudder against him as he cuts her orgasm short. 
Y/n whines low in her throat and lets her body fall forward. She rests on top of him now, her head by his ear. Her mouth is hot against his ear when she mutters wetly, “please.”
“You’re gonna do what I just did again, and again until it stops,” Harry rubs a hand up her back, through her shoulderblades and up the nape of her neck until his fingers are deep in her hair, and tightens his grip to keep her still from licking his jaw. He yanks her back so her face is a hair away from him, their noses a centimeter from touching, “or until you tell me exactly what you want”
Gulping, her head bobs up and down and her tone becomes pitiful, “Kay. Please.. can you… unbutton your jeans, please?”
“I said y’ have to tell me, not take what you want, y/n.” He feels try to slowly inch forward to kiss him. 
“I know! I know!” Shutting her eyes tightly and whimpering when Harry pulls her back to stop her movements again, her high-pitched tone of voice sounds like music to his ears, “m’gonna go again, I promise, but your buttons are hurting my… butt.” 
There's a beat of silence, and then he kisses her nose. Let's go of her hair, and tucks his hands behind his head like he's kicking back for a fucking vacation and not like if she accidentally touched his cock one more time he would cum. “Y’cute, lovie, go ahead, then. M’only watching this time.”
“S’not fair!” Y/n complained but reluctantly started moving over her own lubrication. Harry was so wet with her arousal that the filthiest suction noises were coming from where their skin touched. The insides of her thighs were hot against him, and he imagined it was from the irritation. Later, he would have to apply the cream to them. But he wasn’t going to touch her then. Not when she was being so bratty after he made her cum several times. 
Cocking an eyebrow, Harry growled “what’s not fair is you ate my sex brownie, y/n, but I’m not complaining, am I? What if I wanted to fuck someone else senseless, eat out their sopping cunt, and have them beg me ‘more, h, s’not enough’? Have them mark me with their cum like you’re doing right now, and play with their clit till they can’t talk properly?” She didn’t like what he had to say“Oh, I see, y’don’t like that, do you, baby? I’m doin’ these things with you, s’not enough?” 
“No!” A warmth spread in Harry’s chest at her disapproval of him doing things to someone else, at the thought that they shared the same possessiveness. 
“What more do you-” she lifts her hip and inches back, and then she pulled his sweatpants down and come down in such a way that her folds were fit snugly against the angry red tip of his cock. He hissed and stilled, “Y/n, what-”
“Want this, h,” y/n whispered and rolled her hips against him. That was all it took. One touch of her pussy on him and hot, thick white ropes of his cum were spurting between them. A long animalistic groan thrummed in his chest, the tightness in his core snapped and so did he. He grabbed her with a curse and held her still as he fucked out his orgasm, his dick sliding between her folds furiously as the orgasm continued like it would never end. Moaning as he watches her bite down on her lip, climbing up on another climax as moisture burst on the length of his cock. She was quivering, grinding against him as much as she could so prettily. His blood was boiling at it felt like he was going to have heatstroke from how warm he was everywhere, but the pleasure was lighting up each of his nerves and he could care less if he died right after. 
“My cock?” He snarled, his lips pulled back so he looked like the animal he was being. Puffs of air were sifting through his nostrils harshly, but he kept dirty talking her. “Y’naughty little thing, lookin’ like a fucking wreck with me sliding in between you like this, fuck, sucking me right in.”
“Feels so good,” y/n panted, her hands on his wrists at her hips. Her touch was featherlight on him, and Harry knew she was getting to the end of the brownies. 
“Does it, baby?” 
“Yeah, you’re so warm, it-it feels really really good,” bits of her words disappeared with gasps that took her oxygen away. She was so flushed, her skin damp with sweat. 
“Is that all you know how to say?” He slows his movements, and instead of moving her over him, Harry thrusts. His member setting a harsh, punishing pace that would have him reaching her g-spot repeatedly if he was inside her.“Or are you just not thinking right because you want me to fuck you so badly?” 
“Yes! Yes!” 
“Say it,” snarling, he pistoned up into her, the familiar sensation of a coiling rope building in him once more. The tip of his cock between them was leaking precum, y/n’s pussy dripping creamy slick on him so there was a sopping mess between them. 
“I want you to fuck me, h,” on his name, y/n starts shaking uncontrollably, another orgasm running through her and this one renders her into a sobbing mess. Harry… well he’s moaning without reserve, eyes shut as pleasure overtakes him again. This time he savors it, slowing their bodies down so their sensual touches drag out longer. Low sobs shakes her, and she collapses beside him and starts to curl in on herself from the overwhelming sensations. Harry follows, climbing over her and turning her so she’s facing him and looking her right in the eyes. 
“I’m not gonna fuck you dumb, tonight, sweetheart. Not when you’re already stupid horny from a brownie y’took without permission. Remember what I said? Only good girls get me between their legs. And you were so, so, naughty.” He was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses below her breasts, peppering them both and tweaking her nipples when they weren’t in his mouth. 
Y/n begins to cry, tears immediately falling at his rejection. Her beginning is desperate, “No. No, h. Please, I’ll do anything. Please, I want-” 
“I know you want to cum. So that’s what I’ll give you. But not with my dick. Gonna eat up all the honey that comes out of this puffy little hole and I don’t care if y’cum so much y’crying because your slit is numb. I’m gonna stop when I want to, understand? Nod if you understand.” She does as he asks, and sniffles. “Good. Now lay down and let me eat.” 
Her back has barely touched the mattress before his mouth is on her, devouring her like it's both the first and last meal he’s ever had. His tongue is hot on her already creamy pussy, and the taste of her has him rutting into the mattress like a fucking animal, fucking down on it like it’s her. He laps at her desperately, ears keenly aware of every moan, squeak, whimper that comes out of her. He fucks into her hole with his tongue, licking her cream before it's even fully out of her, and spitting it back out on her clit. The action makes y/n freeze, and he looks up, momentarily confused thinking that he’s crossed a boundary but…
But y/n’s head is thrown so far back he can count the veins in her neck, and her body is trembling, a restrained garble of words incoherently coming out of her in pants and Harry knows she’s coming. He blows on her clit, allowing his spit and her cum to drip before going back down to slurp at it. He focuses on that little button, suckling at it and flicking it with his tongue. Soon enough, y/n is yelping, her hands in his hair as she tried to wretch him away. It’s finally become too much. 
“Don’t you fucking pull me off, I’m not finished yet,” he momentarily takes his hands off of her thighs and wraps them around her wrist, pressing down on the tendon at the center to wiggle her fingers off his head. He tucks them under her back, and places his mouth on her once more, dark eyes threatening her as he mouths his words on cunt, “Lay down and don’t pull again or I’ll tie y’up.” 
Holding her down firmly, Harry splayed his tongue flat on her and sucks, surprised and pleased by the shriek that escaped her. Y/n is crying, saying she can’t take it, that it was enough, but Harry isn’t listening. He’s so lost in his own pleasure, the arousal he gets from her taste, the sounds she makes because of him, that he’s chasing after his own orgasm by rubbing his cock against the bed. He’s getting frustrated because he wants to get there as soon as she does, and he knows it's gonna be soon with the way she’s throbbing against his lips. 
So he reaches down and squeezes himself in a tight fist, lubrication not necessary because of how slippery he was already. The moment he does, his vision goes white, and there's a spurt of heat below his belly button, and moisture drenching the lower half of his face. 
They lay there heaving briefly, and he becomes aware that she’s no longer awake. Her breathing is stinted with hiccups from leftover sobs, but she’s asleep. The tip of her nose is red, her eyes red-rimmed. He knows she’s going to wake up tired and with a headache tomorrow, but he’ll be there with her. With the corner of a blanket, he cleans them up as much as he can and tosses that soiled sheet away, grabbing a much more clean one and throwing it over them. 
“Night, baby.” He kissed her forehead and tucked his Achilles heel close to his chest, the girl sleeping like a rock in his arms. 
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loveshotzz · 8 months
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All I Really Want Is You
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older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap ten/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs -
Baby, I’m Yours
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summary: A sleepless night brings you back to where it all began.
wc: 8k
warnings: 18+ for the softest of smut.
author’s note: I know we still have the epilogue but I can’t believe we’re actually here at the end of their story. Thank you to all of you that spent your summer reading about Steve and his Tough Girl, this has been such a journey for me as a writer with a lot of challenges but I’m so thankful I did it. Truly writing about these two and talking about it with you guys was the highlight of my summer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🧡
🌇 <- chapter nine
The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:
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Beginning of August
Steve had been gone for a week and a half and it felt more like a lifetime to you, but it wasn’t for the lack of communication. If Steve wasn’t calling you he was texting you, sending you pictures of his lunch no matter how lame you told him it was. By day three you were sending him a picture of your own with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes. His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’  had made you squirm in your seat with hot cheeks huffing the word “pathetic” to yourself, but that didn’t stop you from doing it again the next day. 
It was FaceTime calls of Peach telling Steve to turn the camera around, always too busy looking at you and telling you how pretty you are to notice his was pointed towards a wall. Or the one time it was pointed at Eddie who sat in front of him making a suggestive ‘cumming’ face to tease him, the camera flipped immediately when he heard you giggle. Steve scolded his cackling friend with an ‘honestly, I hate you’ before taking you to another room, apologizing profusely with blush visible on his cheeks.
It was the small bits of time in between text messages and phone calls that made it drag. The quiet evenings without Bandit’s excited bark from the front yard, the low simmer that’s always in your gut from the possibility of running into him any time you come and go, is gone with the man and his dog. It’s just enough time for seeds of doubt to creep in. The newness, the anxiety of it all.
The bright red numbers on the clock above your stove read 2:13am - three days until Steve gets home and tonight you can’t sleep. Quietly thanking whatever gods there are for your day off tomorrow, well - today. 
Your apartment smells like Clorox, lavender, and lemon. The wood floors sparkling just like your kitchen countertops. Cleaning everything you could touch has kept you busy, but it doesn’t make you any more tired than when you’d started. Your intrusive thoughts and daydreams are going a mile a minute:you didn’t get your usual good night call from him. The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t  need to rest.
The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.
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The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky. You can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.
Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. 
“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside of you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.
“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.
His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at your doorstep, and god, do you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappearing inside of it. 
His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you  — like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.
“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight, and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”
He smells like bergamot and cedar, a lingering hint of the cigar he probably smoked in New York still clinging to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him. 
“I dunno, what does that make me, Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.
He hums, a low sound that vibrates from deep in his chest while his fingers come up to toy with the stone that dangles just above the dip of your breasts. The tips of them tickling rough against your soft skin. 
“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off. 
“I want you.” You don’t hesitate when you say it, no pauses for even a second to think of what you want to say. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, the muscles under your palm dance from your simple touch. He wonders if you can feel his pulse.
“You already have me.” He almost wants to laugh until he still sees the same shared doubt  in your eyes. “Haven’t I made that obvious?”
He tugs at your necklace as a reminder, a smile breaking across your face because of it and all he wants to do is kiss you now. Especially when he drops the stone to grab your hand, and after taking just a few steps, you reach up to touch it again — a silent, constant reminder of his confession as you walk towards the wooden gates.
“Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You pout a little, looking up at him when he stops you both at your backyard. 
“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.” 
“Oh yeah?” You grin at the thought of Steve showing up at your front door, that messy head of hair shoved into a baseball cap.
He nudges his nose against yours, the spearmint of his toothpaste fanning cool across your cheeks while your fingers curl into the soft hair at the base of his neck. Tilting your chin so your lips just barely touch, you silently beg him to close the gap. 
“Yeah,” He breathes, hazel eyes clocking the way your lashes flutter against the top of your cheeks. He almost feels bad for teasing, especially when you give his hair a gentle, coaxing tug. “But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.” 
His words make your breath catch, and you want to tell him he feels like home more than your real one ever did. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest when his top lip whispers against your still slightly pouted bottom one. You tug at his roots a little harder this time, needier, and you swear a whine tightens at the back of your throat threatening to come out if he doesn’t give you what you want. Please, kiss me.
“Well, good thing you were here to save me.” You giggle against his mouth, and it makes his hands squeeze at your sides a little tighter, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tip of your nose pushes against the rough stubble on his cheek, “Besides, I missed you, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait ‘til the morning.”
“God, honey. You have no idea how much I missed you.” His face crumples a little at the thought, almost like he forgot for a second you were right in front of him, but when you somehow pull yourself closer, he doesn’t waste anymore time.
The wood is rough when your back hits the gate at the same time his lips finally crash into yours. A week of longing comes out with a sigh. The metal hinges and lock clank loudly together while he steals the breath from your lungs. He coaxes your mouth open with a swipe from his impatient tongue, groaning when you grant him access. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, and he promises himself he’ll never go a day without it again — not if he can help it.  
Your hands get greedy in his hair, bigger handfuls, harsher tugs while your body stays flush against his as he keeps you pinned to the door. It’s all tongue and teeth for a minute, both of you losing yourselves in it for longer than you should. It’s not until a car honks, signaling to any bikers around that it’s popping out of the alley, breaking you two apart. 
Chest heaving and lips swollen, all you want is more.
He laughs to himself pressing his forehead against yours with the kind of smile that makes your knees weak. The tip of his nose touches yours; he’s all wild hair and love sick eyes. You don’t want to be without him tonight. Or ever.
“Come sleepover?”
The question comes out before you can stop it, before you can really register what that invitation might mean for both of you. His eyes widen before they search your face for any kind of regret, his tongue wetting his lips when he doesn’t find it. You twist strands of his honey hair between your fingers, nervously waiting for his response. 
“We - we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” You finally whisper, your nerves getting the best of you. He can’t believe you think he’d actually say no.
“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.” He steals another kiss from your smiling lips, letting you take another one for yourself, groaning at the nip of your teeth on his bottom lip before he finally lets you go. 
Opening the gate for you, he grabs your wrist pulling you back for one more, relishing in the giggle it earns him before he whispers that he’ll be back in fifteen minutes.
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It feels like your heart is trying to escape through your chest as you try not to check the time on your phone. Strategically placed candles are the only light in your living room and kitchen, while a dimmed bedside lamp in your room gleams a dark orange with your wax melter. It feels like your apartment is glowing, but it does nothing to relax the nerves that course through your veins as you pace the small space of your room trying to shake them before his inevitable arrival.
Knock, knock, knock
They are quieter than his normal ones, but they make you jump just the same. You shake your hands out, taking a deep breath before you pad barefoot to your front door. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that always grows the first time you lay your eyes on him and his lopsided grin.
“Hey baby.” He greets you in the kind of voice that makes the dough of your thighs press.
His damp hair is pushed back, from what looks like a few quick hands in the mirror. A simple white shirt replaces the tank top from before, fitting loosely across his shoulders, and a soft looking pair of gray cotton shorts cover the tops of his thighs this time. He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen, and for some reason his exposed ankles make the heat rise to your cheeks while the fresh scent of his pine body wash threatens to take over your senses.
“Hi handsome.” It’s dripping in sugar the way you say it, sweet off your tongue just for him as you open the door wider.
He thinks your apartment smells like peaches and the ocean when you close it behind him. It smells just like you and he feels surrounded by it, intoxicated with it, the way he always wants to be. You watch him take in your apartment like he missed it too, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when he notices you just cleaned it. He bites back his remark when his eyes meet yours, he can’t bring himself to say it when you’re staring at him from under your lashes with your back pressed to the door all shy like that.
“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”
You don’t hesitate to slip your palm into his, your heart racing when you watch his fingers wrap around you with ease. He pulls you into him, colliding in a mix of  forest and the beach. He keeps a hold of your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one. The pad of his thumb traces over the heated skin, paying extra attention to the soft bag under your eye. You needed sleep.
“Just me and you, that’s all I want, okay?” He reassures you in a voice lower than a whisper. His heart swells when you nod with big glassy eyes, your hand coming to rest on the top of his so you can lean deeper into his touch.Steve’s hazel eyes look to yours, he tilts his head a little bit closer in a silent ask for permission, you push up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.
He kisses you differently than how he did in the alley, differently than the Fourth of July and the baseball game. He’s gentle, like he’s taking his time with you because he actually has it now, like he’s sure of it. He doesn’t try to deepen it even when they move together like this is what they were always meant to be doing, not even when your top lip catches a little dirty with his bottom. He wants to remember this moment, commit it to memory so that he never forgets what this feels like with you. He kisses you like this until the need for oxygen becomes too much and your feet start to hurt from standing in place for too long.
“Let’s go lay down.” You whisper between bated breaths that mingle with his, your chests heave as he gives you the kind of toothy grin that makes the butterflies wake up again, nodding with a squeeze of your hand.
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The hum of A/C and the sounds of your breathing are the only things that can be heard in the low light of your room. Steve’s body lays pressed on top of yours, making himself comfortable between your legs. His head rests on your sternum with a cheek against the soft curve of your tummy. His big hands hold tight to your sides, caging you in – it feels like he’s everywhere and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The weight of him relaxes you into the feathers of your pillows.
Your fingers keep themselves busy buried deep in the thickness of his hair. Still a little damp at the roots, you massage the part of his scalp you know was resting on the hard cushion of the airplane seat, earning you a deep groan that vibrates between your legs. He feels the way they try to close because of it, the sharp intake of breath that you try to hide.
He’d be lying if he said his own body wasn’t reacting being this close to you, especially when the pads of his thumbs caress under the swell of your breasts and there’s no wire of a bra to be found. His eyes roll back as the blunt ends of your nails start to scratch lightly near the nape of his neck, making his fingers squeeze you at the sensation. His face nuzzles deeper into the softness of your stomach, inhaling. You feel the prickle of his stubble through the thin material of your tank top and it makes you giggle. 
Steve doesn’t know how he lasted as long as he did this past week without you. 
He pushes the bottom of your tank top up and tries not to stare at the supple skin exposed to him before blowing a raspberry. It earns an even louder giggle, making your legs bend at the knees, trapping him in between your thighs.
“Steve!” You sound annoyed but the smile on your face gives you away when you go to cover your eyes with the back of your hand. 
“What baby?” He smirks against your skin and feels the way it makes you squirm with a subtle roll of your hips, he’s not even sure you noticed that you did it.
“No…”Your voice trails off when he pushes your shirt up a little higher, his lips getting bolder, addicted to the way you heat up for him with every soft kiss, “No raspberries.” You finally manage, making him chuckle. But that doesn’t stop him continuing on his path.
“I promise I’ll be nice, m’sorry” He mumbles an apology against your skin, basking in the goosebumps it earns him.
He sits back on his knees, thumbs hooking into the bottom of your tank. His eyes meet yours from underneath his lashes and he wishes he could take a picture of the way you look right now.
“Is this okay?” He asks just to make sure, and the nod of your head with heavy lids is enough for him to press a wet kiss on your sternum before pulling the rest of the offending fabric off, throwing it somewhere on your floor. 
Steve forgets how to breathe the moment his eyes land on you, soft curves just begging for his touch. He can’t help himself when he runs his palms up your sides making your nipples pebble when the pads of his thumbs meet the bottom swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel the wings under your rib cage.
“God - honey,” Steve’s words get lost on his tongue when you stare up at him with eyes blown out like his, it makes him run a hand down his face like he can’t believe you’re real. “I’m lucky to just be lookin’ at you.”
His praise makes a shy smile push up your cheeks, his own teeth shining in a grin because of it.
“I wanna look at you too.” You whine a little, reaching down between your legs to tug at the cotton of his shirt with a pout.
“Yeah?” Steve asks, bending back down to hover over you. His nose nudges against your cheek before his lips brush yours, smirking when you nod a little desperate against his mouth.
The kiss he gives you lingers, lighting a fire inside of you, the kind that burns at your fingertips, consuming you like it’s wild and it makes you realize it’s never going to be enough. You’re never going to get enough of the man who looks at you like you hung the stars in his sky, like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around. 
His fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion when he pulls it over his head, adding it to the already growing pile on the floor. His muscles twitch under your gaze, his own nerves finally catching up to him when he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been with someone like this. Pink dusts his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, not when he sees the way your eyes glaze over at the sight. The dark thatch of hair in the middle of his chest looks soft to the touch from his late night shower and it makes your fingers twitch to touch him. 
The silver of his chain gleams like yours in the moonlight that leaks through your curtains and it makes his skin look like it glows. You give in, running your fingertips through the thick happy trail that’s surrounded by another collection of freckles and moles that you feel the need to kiss and you catch the shudder that runs through him because of it.
“You’re so handsome, Steve.” It comes out a little breathless, and it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.
“Thank you, angel.” He tries to hide his bashfulness in a grin and a hand through his hair, bending back down to press a kiss to your collarbone so you don’t see his smile.
He starts a path up your neck, nipping at sensitive skin along the way to your lips, his own butterflies being spurred on by the whimper it earns him. He hovers over you searching your face for any indication to stop but he’s only met with the kind of look in your eyes that almost has him say it.
 ‘I love you’.
He tries to show you by slotting his lips against yours in a hot breath, like a key to its lock. The bed dips on either side of your head when he goes from his palms to his forearms, chest to chest he wonders if you can feel his heart beating just for you tonight.
The feeling of his skin against yours makes every inch of you feel like a livewire, both of you moaning into the kiss like you’ve waited too long for this. Tongues collide messily when he rolls his hips with a purpose. The pointed pressure on your bundle of nerves, has you keening into him. Your hands slide up his chest through the patch of hair you’d been dreaming about for months, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Addicted to the way his hard muscles flex against your soft skin.
Box springs squeak when he lets go of all of his weight, it feels like he’s everywhere and it makes your head spin. Your fingers find their way back into the soft hair at the nape of his neck as you fight for dominance with his lips, trying to convey everything you’re feeling right now because words just won’t work.
Pushing your hips up to meet his in a slow grind, the thin material of his shorts does nothing to hide just how big he really is and it makes everything turn sloppy, teeth scraping together with silk between your fingers tugging at his roots a little mean. He smiles when he pulls away to catch his breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are as black as the night outside that threatens to give away to the sun in just a few hours, they look at you like he can’t believe you’re real, memorizing every detail of your face like you might disappear if he blinks.
“So pretty.” He murmurs before littering kisses down your body, some sweet and some with a nip of his teeth. 
His eyes meet yours in a silent question of ‘is this okay?’, long fingers curling around the elastic band. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your shy smile. You nod with a little too much excitement making him smirk before pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your hip, running his nose along the soft your tummy doing it again to the other side.
You hold your breath when he pulls them down your thighs, the tips of his fingers gliding down the sides of your legs as he goes, lips tugging up when you squirm a little because of it. A low groan vibrates from his chest when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear, glistening with your arousal in the dim light. You’re so wet and all he’s done is kiss you. 
“Baby, baby, baby.” He mutters awestruck by the sight.
A little embarrassed at your body’s reaction, his praise makes your legs try to snap shut but he stops you with a gentle hand on the inside of your knee, spreading them again.
“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”
His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your leg up enough for his lips to kiss the soft skin right above the round bone, his nose skims up your calf to press another one, relishing in the giggle he gets as he keeps on his path to what he really wants. You squeal when he nips at the inside of your knee and you can feel his smirk against your goosebumps. 
Once his kisses get to your thigh, he settles between your legs with his chest to the mattress. It’s hard to remember your own name when he looks up at you through his lashes like that. He hooks your knee over his broad shoulder, his lips dragging a little dirty across your heated skin. He can taste the watermelon that still lingers from his favorite lotion. You were going to be the death of him.
He meets your eyes when he gets high enough for your thigh and hip to connect. Close enough to smell how sweet you are worked up just for him. 
“Can I taste you?” He skims his nose up the plush inside of your thigh when he asks, his eyelids growing heavy just basking in being close to you like this. You could say no, and this would be enough for him but the way you’re already dripping on your sheets makes him insatiable. “You want that?”
You want that?
He watches how your eyes glaze over at his question, the intensity of his gaze makes you want to hide, he was so handsome looking up at you like this. Too bashful to actually say yes, you nod again.
“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode. 
What if he wasn’t good at this anymore?
“Y- yes, I want you to taste me, handsome you can do whatever you want to me.” The breathy giggle that bubbles passed your lips makes him grin lopsided just how you like, a smugness that wasn’t there before smoldering like a fire in his eyes.
“Yeah? Fuck - Honey, I dream about this.” He groans when he pulls himself closer, the tip of his nose running up your slick folds making you shudder, fingers already tangling in your sheets. “You want me to show you how much I missed you?”
He doesn’t tell you that he’s started to always miss you when you aren’t around.
He accepts your nod this time, your teeth threatening to make your bottom lip bleed when he settles your other leg over his shoulder too, nothing holding him back from you anymore. He takes all of you in with a greedy eyes, his pink tongue darling out to lick his lips when he sees just how much you want this too.
Nothing can prepare you for the first swipe of his flattened tongue between your slick folds, the tip of it catching your clit with just enough pressure for the grip on your sheets to tighten. The butterflies in your rib cage feel like they make their escape in the gasp you let out, his low hum of approval making your toes curl when he does it again. 
“So fucking sweet baby, god of course you are.” 
He doesn’t waste anymore time testing the waters, his self doubt gone with his self control when your hips roll up asking for more. Steve knows now he’ll never say no to you and he’s not shy with the way he buries his face in your pussy. His tongue laps up everything you give him, like he’s hungry with his nose pressed to your bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make your back arch. 
“Ohmygod - Steve.” The moan you let out makes his cock twitch, your fingers reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair, shamelessly pulling him closer. You were better than his dreams.
Your thighs snap closed around his ears after he stops the greedy strokes of his tongue in the tightness of your entrance for his lips to wrap your clit. He sucks with the kind of force that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. His eyebrows marry together when he closes his eyes like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. One of hands leaves the dough of your thighs for his thick index finger to take his tongue's place, collecting the slick from between your folds before pushing one knuckle in. 
It makes you gasp a little breathy as your hips push up for more, and he gives it to you, pushing two more knuckles in and you already feel so full. Your walls constrict, fluttering around his single digit like it’s a stretch and he wonders how you’re going to be able to take him. His own hips rut into the mattress in search of some kind of relief while he sets a steady pace between his mouth and his wrist that has you clenching like you’re about to unravel. 
“You close baby? Wanna show me how good it feels?” His question comes out sloppy against your mound, all the color in his eyes is gone meeting yours from between your legs blown wide. When he adds a second finger, it slides in with ease making your eyes hit the back of your head, a low moan bubbling past your lips. Your toes curl with his fingers, jaw going slack with his name in your mouth like a prayer and he’s scared you’re going to make him cum in his pants again. 
“Just like that, fuck - right there - Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” The fingers that are tangled in his hair tug rough, your thighs clamping down hard around his head while your body tries to squirm away to run from the intensity of it all, the stubble on his jaw rubbing you raw when he moves his head from side to side drinking in everything you give him.
His hand on your hip locks you in place while you come undone on his tongue and he swears you taste just like sugar when he buries his face in deeper till you whine, pushing on his forehead to stop, overstimulation winning. Heat floods your cheeks when you see the shine from your slick covering the bottom of his lopsided grin when he finally looks up at you.
“So pretty like this,” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your shaking thigh. 
You cover your face with your hands, the intensity of your first orgasm and the intimacy of it all overwhelms you, the tightness in your chest threatens to become unbearable. The three words sitting at the tip of your tongue beg to come out from between your lips. 
Not yet.
He trails sticky kisses up your stomach, making sure to pay special attention to the swell of your breasts, pulling them both together in his big hands to give them equal treatment. Shining lips wrap around your sensitive nipples and it's enough for a new wave of arousal to blossom deep inside your belly, a subtle rock of your hips meeting his when he rolls one between his teeth. Insatiable, just like him.
“Steve,” His name comes out around a sigh, your fingers running up his freckled back before tangling themselves in his hair again, addicted to the softness of it.
“Mmm, tell me what you want.” He looks up at you from under thick lashes, lids heavy, and eyes glossy. He’s wrecked.
“You.” The answer is just as simple as it was outside, it's all you’ve ever wanted. You realize that now. The universe bringing you here to this moment with him. This was it.
“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”
He moves back up your body, leaving wet kisses across sweat slicked skin making sure to suck at the sensitive spot he found just above your collarbone, smiling when you gasp. He’s not expecting to feel your lips against his jaw, bold and sure of themselves by the time they get to the corner of his mouth, dainty fingers pulling his chin down to collect your kiss.
Your lips move like you can finally relax, like you’re home now and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest. This didn’t feel like just sex.
Your hands run down his sides, grinning into his mouth when he chuckles as the tips of your fingers brush against his ribs, you keep that information locked away another time as you hook them in the elastic band of his shorts. His tongue licks a little dirty into your mouth when you start to pull them down his hips, helping you get them to his knees before kicking them off entirely. The length of him feels heavy against your stomach, and it makes you break away from the kiss but his lips stay attached to you.
Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach. 
The view makes your breath hitch and get stuck in the back of your throat, walls fluttering around nothing when you see just how big he really is. He’s too busy trying to find new places to make you gasp and all you wanna do is look at him.
“Steve” his name comes out around the gasp he was trying so hard to get by sucking a little bruise behind your ear.
He hums against your skin with his eyes closed, drowning in you. Love drunk off of it. The slow sleepiness from the day creeping in as his body molds to the warmth of you.
“I wanna look at you, too.” Your request is quiet against the rough stubble that fades into his neck, and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips.
“Yeah?”  His voice is hoarse, nose nudging against your jaw when he brings his gaze back to yours, a smile pulls up the apples of his cheeks, crinkling small lines under his eyes.
“Yeah.” You don’t nod this time.
He holds your eyes in his, needing you to know there’s a double meaning in his words when he brings his palm to your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. 
“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
The mattress bounces when Steve flops next to you on his back, the two of you barely fitting on your queen size with his broad shoulders and long legs. He catches the way your eyes grow big when you sit up on your knees and finally get to see all of him. He reaches out for you, sensing your hesitation at his size
“C’mere, baby, we’ll go slow.”
Heat blooms between your legs when you take his hand, your knees finding a home on either side of his hips. He’s thicker than you’d imagined all those nights with your fingers between your thighs. The big vein running up the length of him protrudes like it’s working overtime, while beads of pearly white smear against the rough patch of hair just below his belly button from his light pink tip. Wrapping his hand around the base, he gives himself a pump to relieve some of the ache from seeing you sitting on top of him like this. Soft curves on display in the moonlight, he can’t wait to see them when it breaks daylight.
“Fuck,” He sighs when you settle above him, “you look gorgeous.”
His words make your confidence peak, your hands finding themselves flat against his chest, the blunt ends of your nails drag through the hair there and you spot another cluster of freckles you hadn’t seen before, you wonder if he’ll let you find them all.
“Look who’s talkin’” You tease, making him laugh as you lean up to steal a kiss. The motion has the length of him slide easily between your slick folds, his tip catching your clit before popping out.
“Jesus Christ.” He sighs against your mouth that’s formed in a silent ‘o’,  rolling his back up in search for more.
“Steve - you’re so - “ The last of your sentence is stolen by a gasp when you grind down to meet his thrust, the tip of him prodding your entrance before gliding up with just the right amount of pressure to make you both moan. 
“I’m so what?” He asks a little smug, arms circling the curve of your waist to pull you closer, dragging you over the length of him again, it makes you shudder in his grasp. 
He catches against where you beg for more of him, fluttering around the tip, your walls try to suck him in. A low growl rumbles from his chest when he tries to fit a little more. It’s your hips that roll, and it's just enough for him to push all the way in with a little resistance.
“Goddd,” You whine, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been, your walls stinging, desperately trying to accommodate his size. A low huff exhales through your nose when you sit up straight, letting your nails drag over the beauty marks that litter his stomach before finishing your sentence, “so big.” 
“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you. Arousal coating the thick thatch of hair that frames him, wetting his lips as he watches the way you grind your clit against it letting him fill you to the hilt. “So good for me baby, so beautiful, - fuck! - so gorgeous.”
His praise has you clenching around him, your mouth falling open when you feel him twitch because of it. His big hands find the tops of your thighs, the pads of his fingers leaving fires in their wake while making their way to your hips. He squeezes softly when he gets there, guiding your lazy thrusts before searching for your hands. 
You watch him intertwine your fingers with curious eyes, his gaze transfixed on yours as he holds them at your sides, rolling his hips up to push even deeper.
“Oh god,” He does it again only this time if feels like there’s nowhere else for him to fit and it makes your eyes screw shut, “ohmyfuckinggod - Steeeve!” 
“Right there? Yeah? Is that it?” He grunts trying to repeat it and your hands squeeze his in an iron grip. “Come on baby, I need to see you.”
It’s hard to open your eyes, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is almost overwhelming. Connected to him in a way that is going to change you forever. The pad of his thumb rubs soft on the top of your hand, bringing you back to him. 
“You’re eyes are too pretty to be keepin’ them from me.” He smiles when you finally meet his gaze and it’s enough to punch the air out of your lungs. 
“I love you.” The three words slip past your kiss bitten lips before you can even think long enough to stop them and it makes everything come to a standstill. 
“What’d you just say?” Steve’s voice is quiet, something unrecognizable in his tone that makes all your nerves come back like they never left.
“I - I -“ the harsh sting of rejection is written all over your face and the feeling of you trying to untangle your hands snaps him back to reality. To you.
“Hey, hey, hey, no honey.” He doesn’t let you go, squeezing till his knuckles turn white “I just wanted to make sure I heard you right, because I’ve been wanting to say that to you since the fourth of July.”
You light up for him in a way he’s never seen before and he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been. 
“Really?” You whisper a little shy, your own smile becoming uncontainable. 
He lets your hands go to wrap his arms back around your waist, sitting up as he pulls you with him on his lap. Chest to chest with his back against your headboard, you’re even closer to him like this. The new position has him impossibly deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix making you keen pretty. 
“Yeah, really.” He sighs, wishing he had gotten  to say it first. 
One arm keeps you close while the other wraps around your back, the warmth of his palm spreading wide across it. The stray hair that you missed more than you realized falls over his forehead and there’s nothing stopping you from pushing it back. Fingernails dragging through his soft hair, making his eyes close until he feels the slow drag of your hips spurring him on. 
He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, especially when your arms wrap around his neck and he feels your hardened nipples against chest. The new angle has his thrusts hitting the spot inside of you no one else has ever been able to find, the one you almost didn’t think existed. The tip of him catches it again and again.
The sound of your slick fills the quiet of your room, growing louder with every roll of your hips that connect with his. The light sheen of sweat that coats both of you has you sliding against his thighs, the cool air from the A/C doing nothing as the two of you get lost like this. 
Your second orgasm builds at the same time your body starts to slump against his, your muscles screaming at you for a break. 
“Getting close, huh?” He asks, with a forehead pressed to yours, lips teasing but never touching with each thrust.
All you can do is nod, your eyes not daring to leave his again. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried, a hazel forest turned night, you never wanted to leave the depths of them. 
“So good for me, let go pretty baby, I got you. Let me do all the work.” He picks up his pace, pushing deeper in with every roll of his hips, feeling the way you squeeze around him while your body starts to shake, the high you’d been chasing threatening to take you. 
Holding your gaze, the hand on your back slides up the dip of your spine, curling around the back of your neck. He closes the last bit of space, pulling you to his lips. It’s sloppy and sweet, neither one of you trying to deepen it, just enjoying the way you move together like it was supposed to be like this forever. 
“Fuck- I love you so much it scares me.” Steve admits when he pulls away, his confession is the last straw that sends you over the edge. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes when you cum hard around him for the second time.
Your fingers tangle his hair, crashing your lips into his with tear stained cheeks and he can feel everything you put inside of it just for him. It’s enough to finally let himself unravel for the first time in years with a loud moan and his face buried in your neck. 
It warms deep in your gut when he spills inside of you, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your thighs shake clinging to him, both of you too scared to let go in the irrational fear that you’ll just wake up from a really good dream. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your skin, your nails finding their way to his scalp. He hums against you when you kiss his temple, nuzzling deeper until you feel his lips against the underside of your jaw.
The two of you sit there like this in a mess of tangled limbs. Sweet kisses and even sweeter words all spoken just barely above a whisper until he’s soft enough to slide out on his own. He takes his time cleaning you up after with giant hands that treat you like glass. 
It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.
Streams of sunshine break through your blinds when the two of you finally settle in, buried deep in his arms surrounded by the lingering scent of pine and him, the sounds of his even breathing are enough for you to give into your heavy lids. 
It’s only when you’re on the verge of dreams you’re sure will be filled with him that you hear it:
“I love you, tough girl.”
🌇 -> epilogue
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beta’d by @chechelia & dividers by @chechelia
(thank you for everything cece ♥️ and a special thank you to @superblysubpar for betaing the first half of this series, i love you both dearly. & also @carolmunson for always talking to me about our boys, and helping me make this world a little bigger ♥️ ily)
929 notes · View notes
supernovafics · 16 days
Note
I know in the I’ll be there for you universe it’s been established that reader and Steve both have not great relationships with their parents - was wondering how Steve would comfort reader if she had a bad go of it with her dad or mom or both angst and comfort?? Maybe this is too self serving tho so feel absolutely so free to ignore 😭
𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k words
warnings: explicit language, brief(ish) mention of reader’s mom being shitty, a bit of angst/sadness but with a wholesome ending<3
summary: in which you’re upset and steve tries to cheer you up
author's note: thank you thank you for the request!! i went back to fall for this one because it just felt fitting. enjoy<333
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Fall 1985
There was something wrong, but Steve couldn’t tell what it was.
You’d been holed up in your room ever since he got home from his Family Video shift. 
At first, he thought it was something he had done, accidentally leaving Harold’s cage open or forgetting to put something away in the kitchen. But, you didn’t seem mad or upset with him; and he knew that if you were, you wouldn’t have shied away from saying something.
When he knocked on your door and asked what was wrong, he didn’t entirely believe your simple head shake and one word response of “Nothing,” but he decided not to press you further because he knew that you’d come to him whenever you were ready to talk about what was going on. But then hours went by and you didn’t say anything; you even passed up his offer to make a grilled cheese for you, which you usually never did. And that made him worried. 
The time was nearing ten and the only moment you had come out of your bedroom since he got home at six was to grab a quick snack from the kitchen. Maybe you were sad about another crush that had gone wrong or maybe it was something bigger. Steve had no idea, but he felt like he needed to do something for you.
He grabbed a random hoodie from his room and then went over to yours, knuckles tapping against your shut door a few times. When you let out a loud enough, “Yeah?”, he took that as his cue to go in. You were sitting at your desk, textbook and notebook opened up in front of you. 
Steve tossed the hoodie into your lap. “Come on, let’s go.” 
You looked up at him, confused. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” He said instead of actually answering your question.
Even though all you really wanted to do was continue wallowing in your room and keep half-focusing on an assignment that you couldn’t care less about, you decided not to protest his words and adamance.
You pulled his hoodie over your head and slipped on a pair of shoes before following him out of the apartment. 
The drive was quiet and you weren’t in the mood to fiddle with the radio, so it simply stayed on a station that seemed to play the same five “pop hits” on repeat. 
It wasn’t until the final few minutes of the ride that you realized where he was driving to. The roads and turns he made started looking way too familiar, and a small smile took over your face when he pulled into the Dairy Queen parking lot. The closest one was over thirty minutes away and Steve hated driving to it because of that, but you never minded it because even though its menu pretty much resembled the dessert menu of your and Steve’s beloved Third Street diner, there was something about this place that you loved too. 
You were always reminded of the summer when you finally got your license and you’d force Steve to come here with you most nights. You two would eat the ice cream in your car, or at one of the red tables that sat outside if it was warm enough; you loved those memories.
Steve put the car in park and then looked over at you. “I’ll grab everything. Do you want your usual?” 
Instead of answering his question, you inadvertently burst into tears. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked softly as he unbuckled his seat belt and reached over to hug you. It was an entirely awkward and uncomfortable position, but you still immediately leaned into him, arms circling around his neck and face burying into his shoulder. You didn’t mind the way the center console was harshly poking into your side, or the fact that your own still buckled seat belt was in the way. “I thought that coming here would definitely cheer you up. Did I completely misread everything?” 
All you could respond with right then was a barely audible “I’m sorry,” and then you sniffled and let out a breath that only made you cry harder. 
“No, I’m the one that should be saying sorry,” Steve said as he soothingly rubbed your back and the subtle action managed to calm you down a bit. 
You shook your head at his words before pulling out of the embrace and looking at him through blurry eyes. 
“Okay, please be a thousand percent honest with me right now,” You said, somehow finding your voice. You half-heartedly wiped away your tears with the sleeve of Steve’s hoodie. “Do you think I’m selfish?”
“What? No, of course not,” The certainty in his tone managed to wash away some of the shittyness you’d been feeling for the past few hours. “Why would you think that?”
You looked away from him then and slumped back against your seat. “I was on the phone with my mom earlier, maybe like an hour before you got home. She asked me to come to this work event for my dad on Friday night, like some sort of dumb party thing. I said that I can’t since I already told you that I’d go with you to take the kids to that new arcade a few towns over. And honestly, even if that wasn’t happening I’d still probably make up some excuse to not go because I hate going to those work parties. But, anyway, my mom called me selfish for saying no, and I know it’s stupid, it’s so stupid, to believe her, but there was a part of me that did. And still kinda does.” 
Usually, most of the things that your mom said to you went in one ear and then out the other, but for some reason, this comment managed to stick. You started overthinking things, feeling like the worst person ever because of something that wasn’t even true, but maybe it was? And you couldn’t stop thinking about that.   
Steve grabbed your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not. I promise.” 
You found yourself believing him and how sure he sounded. He was probably the only person you’d always believe entirely without question because he knew you better than anyone else. You suddenly felt stupid for thinking that your mom was right in the first place. 
“I’m sorry,” You mumbled and then met his gaze again. “This is all so dumb. I’m sorry that you only drove here because I’ve been acting like a sad idiot for the past few hours and you were trying to cheer me up.”
He shook his head and gave you a small smile. “What do you mean? I love coming here.”
You let out a breath of a laugh. “You don’t, but thanks for pretending.”
“Do you want me to get you something?”
You nodded and smiled at him. “The usual, please.”
“Okay,” He said before stepping out of the car.
Because of how late it was and since it was the middle of the week, there was no one in line aside from two teens and an older woman, so Steve was back in less than ten minutes with a simple vanilla cup with rainbow sprinkles for you and a cone for himself.
“Thank you,” You said as he also handed over the spoon and napkins that he had stuffed in the pocket of his jacket. 
“Remember those promises we would make when we were kids?” He asked and you were quick to nod, immediately knowing what he was referring to. 
You inwardly smiled as you thought about the slightly elaborate “running away” plans you two made when you were twelve and thirteen. It would always happen after he’d have some sort of disagreement with his parents, particularly his dad, and he’d sneak over to your house in the middle of the night. Or any night you found it hard to sleep because your thoughts were consumed by your parents and all of the pressure they put on you to do well in school, so you’d go to Steve’s place because talking with him was the only way to wash away some of your stress. 
“I still stand by all of it,” He continued. “One of us says the words and we leave. No questions about it. I still don’t know where we’re going, but we’ll figure it out on the way.”
It felt less likely to happen now because you two technically had “left;” moved out on your own. Not necessarily far away, but far enough from your parents that the shit that used to be almost too unbearable became a little bit easier; mainly because you two had each other. And moments like this one only further proved that— you’d always be there for one another. However, that didn’t change the fact that those silly little promises still always stood. 
You smiled at him. “I think our plans had something to do with joining a circus.”
You weren’t sure which of you had suggested it, but you still found it funny either way. 
“Ah, yes, the circus idea,” Steve nodded, laughing a bit. “Not one of our best ones.”
“Oh, wait, actually, I think we either said circus or rodeo.”
“Both equally bad ideas, but I’d still do it for you.”
“And I’d do it for you too,” You told him before eating another scoop of your ice cream. “Hey, I know it’ll probably be midnight by the time we get home, but is the grilled cheese offer still on the table?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
311 notes · View notes
pxrxcxa · 2 years
Text
Untouchable
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✶ One shot
Pairing | Eddie x his best friends little sister
Post summary | You’ve been in love with Eddie since you can remember. When he refuses to see you as anything except for his best friends, untouchable, innocent, little sister, you work out a way to get him to look at you differently.
What to expect | Established friendship, mutual pining, jealous Eddie, lots of tension - no use of y/n
Post Warnings | Drug use, shotgunning, M oral, F masturbation, voyeurism, facial, public sex, rough sex
Word count | 5.3 K
Authors Note | I’d really like to do a part 2 | but let me know what y’all think about this one first ;)
Pt 2 | Pt 3 |
As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿
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I’d always seen Eddie. Considering he’d been joined at the hip with Trevor since middle school when he’d made fun of Eddie’s buzz cut. The two were inseparable, always up to no good. If you seen one you knew the other wasn’t far. Since Trevor and I shared DNA, Eddie was around just as much as I was, taking up a segment of our life and blending in seamlessly like he belonged there.
Ten years I’d catch the bus home with Eddie and my older brother, avoiding their teasing while they spread across the entire lounge room floor as they devoured the pantry of snacks and planned out their DnD campaigns. Ten years I’d been the butt of their cruel jokes. Ten years I’d been silently in love with Eddie.
And for ten years, Eddie had ignored me like I was invisible. Eddie had never seen me.
I glanced up from my book as a piece of popcorn bounced off my chest and landed on the open page, covering the rest of the line I was currently reading.
“Do you mind?” I snapped through gritted teeth, brushing my shirt as I glared up through my lashes.
“Not at all. Get us another drink.” My brother rolled over on his back as he grinned at me, holding a crumpled piece of paper above his face that contained a list of his new ideas for DnD characters.
Eddie’s singular laugh burst onto the scene, and I reluctantly glanced up at him, dropping my stare almost instantly as a deep blush filled my cheeks. He smirked at me as he popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, watching me as I slammed the book shut and stood up from the couch.
“Get it your damn self.” I snapped, purposely treading on my brothers arm as I stepped over him.
Eddie’s stare, hard to ignore, followed me as I made my way to the kitchen. The water churned angrily inside of the glass as I flicked the sink tap on angrily and filled it to the brim. As I spun around the drink almost slipped through my fingers, Eddie was leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as his dark eyes appraised me.
“You good kid?” My heart sunk into my ass at his words.
Kid
“I’m fine.” My misplaced frustration seeped through my tone, Eddie’s brows raised slightly at my rudeness before Trevor burst through through door, shoving him out of the way and breaking our eye contact.
“Ignore her man, she’s been in a mood ever since she started dating that freshman.” My fingers tightened around the slippery glass as my eyes shot to Eddie’s face, my own colouring in embarrassment as his features turned guarded, hiding his reaction as he picked at his cuticles.
I snatched the bag of chips off the counter that my brother reached for, glaring daggers at him, interrupting Eddie as we spoke at the same time.
“Oh yeah?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
I cleared my throat as they both shared a look followed by loud, teasing bouts of laughter.
“He’s not, he’s just my partner on one of our assignments. And-“ I spoke louder as Trevor wagged his brows suggestively at me and Eddie covered his smirk with his hand.
“He’s actually pretty cool, I think you’d like him, he’s into DnD.” I let my bait hang in the air as I dumped the rest of the contents of my glass down the sink, letting it clack against the sides loudly.
I turned back slowly to watch Trevor let a low, appreciative whistle through his teeth, his mind ticking over my words as I watched Eddie closely. He was far too focused on a hangnail as his jaw clenched, sucking against his teeth.
“What d’ya think bro?” Trevor’s voice was pathetically whiny, pining for Eddie’s approval without shame.
Although his slightly annoyed face betrayed his words, Eddie shrugged, dropping his arms to cross his chest as he stared me down, running his gaze slowly over me as I shuddered, chancing a quick glance at my brother to see if he noticed.
“If she says the kids alright, we can give him a go. She has incredible taste after all.”
Eddie’s lips drew out the S in the third last word, making my thighs twitch behind my loose mini skirt as he smirked at my brother, who was blissfully unaware of my dangerous thoughts as he sneakily snatched the bag of snacks from my trembling fingers.
“If he’s anything like her, he’s super fucking innocent. And I know how you love to corrupt your innocent freshman with DnD.” My brothers half hearted wink didn’t even begin to convey the truth behind his words, their possible different meaning to Eddie had my head swimming dangerously, the sea of blackness lapping at my concentration.
“I don’t agree on a lot of things with you bro, but when it comes to that type of innocence… I can’t resist absolute corruption.” Eddie’s dark eyes fixated on me as his wide smile crinkled his eyes. I was greatful for the loud crunching as Trevor tipped the bag of food back against his mouth, tilting his head back as he shook the bag, because I was sure that actual steam was blowing out of my ears and a slight dripping was falling from between my thighs.
“Come on, let’s head out.” Trevor’s spat through an open mouth full of food as he tossed the packet into the bin and walked between us, cutting off my eyeline of Eddie as he smacked his chest and swiped up his car keys. I swallowed my disgust over my brothers general lack of hygiene as he disappeared around the corner, rolling my eyes as I turned my back on both of their vulgar insults over who was driving.
The warning tingle that shot up my spine, made me spin back around as I bumped back against the sink, watching Eddie lean away from the door frame to cross the tiled kitchen floor between us in three long strides.
His eyes flickered to the darkened hallway like he was making sure that my brother was still out of sight as he stood toe to toe with me, our embarrassing height difference towered over me as his face broke into a cocky half grin.
My breathing faltered as his hand raised towards me, gently brushing against my thin sweater in the space between my breast and my collar bone. My heart squeezed painfully as his grin faded off into a small, knowing smile as I began to tremble.
“Popcorn.” His scoff contained a light airy laugh as he glanced above my head and brushed away the few crumbs that clung the static fabric of my shirt.
My chest throbbed in a painful release as Eddie stalked away, shrugging on his leather jacket as my knees struggled to keep me upright.
Asshole
I ran my tongue across my lips as I tried to keep my thoughts in check, squishing down the vain fantasy of hope that reared it’s ugly head, focusing on the ticking hands of the clock above the kitchen cabinets.
Eddie’s small touches meant nothing, his lingering stares only felt heavy and intrusive because I was imagining it. Eddie was only ever going to be an elderly brother figure to me and I needed to learn to accept that. Giving myself a reality check to save myself from further heart break.
I swallowed the rock that sat at the back of my throat as my vision came into focus again.
“Hey! Where are you going? Moms gonna be here with dinner soon.” I chased after the boys as they hesitated at the front door, staring back at me with frustration as I hindered their nightly pursuits.
“The hideout.” Trevor shook his head at me like I was stupid for even asking, widening his eyes sarcastically as he pulled the door wider.
Eddie stared at me with a blank expression, either trying very hard to control his reaction or just genuinely not having one as he rolled a loose ring across the tops of his knuckles.
“Ed’s here has a blonde hottie waiting for him.” My brother smacked his chest with his fist lightly, following up his hurtful statement with a string of obscene noises and hip movements.
I tried and failed to keep my face straight as my heart smashed into my stomach, twisting and splintering like broken glass as Eddie didn’t spare me another glance, following Trevor down the scarcely lit driveway.
His car tore off into the empty street as they sped away to whatever pleasures awaited them at the dingy bar, leaving me alone and heartbroken as I let the front door swing closed slowly.
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“I think it’s a good idea.” I let the stream of smoke billow through my nose as I flicked the ash away from the tip of my joint, leaning back against the red brick of the gym, hidden by other nosy students and prying teachers alike.
Sean, the infamous genius freshman that was taking senior classes, liked playing DnD and was my alleged boyfriend, watched me from his place beside me, his beady eyes following my every movement as he tried to mimic my stance.
I held out the joint in an offering, raising my eye brows as he hesitated and then shook his head, glancing up at me from the few inch height difference between us.
“I’ve got a test, probably be better if I was sober.” His dorky face screwed up and I turned away to hide my laughter, watching the sophomore gym class run their tenth, hellish lap around the field.
I nodded without looking as he muttered a goodbye, taking a deep drag as my eyes squinted shut. The air rushed through my teeth as a heavy ‘umph’ resounded through the air as his sharp cry echoed around us.
Sean was scrawled across the concrete, fresh tears springing to his eyes from the raw scrape marks across his palms and knees. Eddie stepped from around the corner and roughly hauled him to his feet, practically beating him into the ground as he wiped grey clouds of dirt from his shoulders.
“Better be more careful there kid.” Eddie clicked his teeth as my arm dropped, nerves fluttering in my stomach as I hid the joint against my side.
It was no use, the smell had probably drawn him out in the first place.
My eyes flickered between the vastly different boys, Eddie’s dark and hulking form, with a mean smirk plastered across his face, towered over Seans’ quivering one. A shock ran through me as I watched the unmistakable signs of fear flash across the younger man’s face, he nodded and tried not to let Eddie’s strength make his knees buckle as he continued to swipe at Sean’s arms, angrily brushing away dirt that was no longer there.
He shot me a frightened look as I couldn’t help the slight amusement spread across my face, my inhibitions locked away from the spike of weed I’d inhaled, I successfully bit back my laugh as I realised he was afraid of Eddie. Sometimes it was hard to remember what the rest of the world saw him as, because Eddie had my knees shaking and my face blushing for entirely different reasons.
Sensing no help from me, Sean tried to side step around Eddie as his eyes fell to his Hellfire shirt under his leather jacket, trembling like a mouse as Eddie blocked him.
“Not so fast, kid. Who are you?” Eddie’s menacing smile slowly dropped from his face as he cocked his head, loosing patience as Sean stuttered over his own name.
I scoffed and pushed off from the wall, turning to face him with my own smug smirk as I shook my head at Eddie’s antics.
“This is the one I told you and Trevor about. This is Sean.” His eyes squeezed shut like he was upset about me naming him, like he’d hoped he could remain unnoticed as long as he stayed silent.
Eddie had ignored me thus far, but his dark stare slid past Sean’s to meet mine over his head, something flashing in his eyes as they softened and his jaw hardened.
“Right.” He stood to the side and clapped his shoulder, making him half bow over as his face screwed up in pain. “Well, maybe I’ll see you at our club sometime, I’ll take good care of ya.” Eddie winked and slapped him on the back again, half propelling him down the footpath and almost out of my sight.
The brittle tension disappeared along with Sean as Eddie turned back to me, pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket, placing it between his teeth as he flicked his lighter and shook his head at me over the billowing smoke.
I grinned freely as I purposely took a long hit of my dwindling joint, staring back at him boldly as I blew the cloud of haze in his direction.
We puffed in a silence for a moment before I took too deep of a hit and coughed hard, my chest spluttering as my eyes watered.
He clicked tongue as he pursed his lips, barking a sharp snap of laughter as I waved the smoke away that burst through my lungs.
“Exactly why you shouldn’t smoke.” He grinned through his hypocrisy.
“Oh please, don’t act like you’re not the one who taught me this.” I held it out between us accusingly, relishing in the easy smiles shared between us. My heart clenched unexpectedly as I wished for it to always be this easy, that our friendship didn’t have to be blackened by my unrequited feelings, obsession was probably a better word.
His own face turned serious as we both lost our grins, exhaling through his teeth as a deep sigh rushed from his chest. His eyes, practically black in the shadows, had me cowering against the wall as he glared at me.
“You should stay away from him.” His words were a fire hot, ice pick through my skin as I tried to read their meaning in his face. He kept his usual half snarky half empty mask in place, I took a distracted drag for something to do other than get lost in my thoughts of looking at him.
“Sean? He’s harmless.” I peered back at Eddie questioningly, blushing as he scoffed and sent me a derivative scowl.
“He’s a guy.”
“And?”
“And I know what guys want.” He flicked the butt of his smoke away as he spun around to face me, burying his hands in his pockets as he waited for me to catch onto his meaning.
I wasn’t sure what made me say it, or how I possibly got the words out without caving like the embarrassed coward I was.
“What do you want?”
Eddie’s face flashed with something new, he only hesitated for a minute as his eyes dropped to something beside me and he stalked across the space between us. I backed off quickly, bumping against the rough brick as he pinned me against it.
I trembled as Eddie hand snaked around my throat, his thumb pressing into my jaw so that my head was tilted back and I couldn’t avoid his dark eyes that trapped mine. I couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past my lips, Eddie’s eyes dropped to them, intrigued by the sound. My throat stuck as my thoughts ran wild, wanting to cry from the confusion and pleasure of feeling Eddie’s hand finally somehow wrapped around me.
My hands clenched around empty air as Eddie stole the joint from between my fingers, he brought it between us, turning his head to the side, but keeping his eyes on mine as he took a deep inhale. The paper burned all the way down to the roach in a blaze, ash dropping dangerously as he flicked it away and tensed his fingers around the nape of my neck.
His strong hand bowed me against him as his thumb moved up against my chin, pulling it down roughly as he forced my lips apart.
I shook like a leaf as Eddie moved his face towards mine, with slow movements like a predator. He angled his jaw to line up with me, leaving barely any space between our open mouths as he blew the smoke into mine. My eyes rolled back into my head as I caved, I could practically taste him, almost feel the softness of his lips as my knees buckled, Eddie’s tight grip became the only thing holding me up. His forehead leant forward to touch mine as he breathed the last swirl of the smoke into me, snapping his eyes shut as his jaw flexed.
“You’re Trevor’s sister.” It was a fact he grunted through clenched teeth.
“I am.” My hands traced up carefully to hold onto the arm he still had wrapped around my neck.
“Untouchable.” I didn’t agree.
“So fucking innocent.” Eddie’s practically spat the words as his eyes wrenched open in anger and he dropped his hold on me, slamming his fist down against the raw brick beside me as he spurned away, the outline of the Dio patch on his jacket growing smaller as he left me alone gasping against the side of the building.
Tears sprung to my eyes over his insult of being innocent, wanting to follow him and prove in every single way how wrong he was, hating him for even thinking it. But I was paralysed, sliding down the wall into a crouch, wondering what the fuck that was and if it actually just happened.
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Stupid
That’s what this was, pure idiocy. I fumed with anger towards Eddie’s juvenile opinion of me, and hated Trevor even more for probably being the reason behind it.
I wanted to punish them both, get back at them in a way that would at least match, if not top, the anguish and hurt I was feeling.
Trashing their beloved Hellfire room was the best thing I could think off, though that might have been taking things too far and definitely wasn’t going to help my immature image. My false confidence spurred on by misplaced frustration, faltered as I stood beside the wooden table top in the drama room, tracing my fingers along the edge as I made my way to the throne at the end of it.
I clasped the backing of it, pretending that it was his shoulders I was holding as I pictured myself standing by his side while he was in his element. Imagining how good I would look perched on his lap while he mounted his throne. He could shotgun me again, have his way with me and do whatever he wanted to me on this table.
I twisted my fingers in anger, wishing to high heaven that Eddie could see me for what I actually was, torturing myself as I fantasised about Trevor being okay with the idea of the two of us, and that he wouldn’t stand in our way.
I snorted mockingly at myself as I let my hand drop, shaking my head because all of that didn’t matter unless Eddie liked me back, and he definitely didn’t.
Whatever happened between us this afternoon didn’t wipe away the past ten years of him treating me like an extension of Trevor, just an extra sibling to pick on when he wasn’t rising to Eddie’s teasing.
I pulled my bag tighter against my shoulders as I headed for the door, but I froze as loud bangs and shouts of boyish laughter echoed down the hallway.
Shit.
They were early, and even though I’d left the room exactly as I’d found it, Trevor would dip it if he found me in here. ‘Ruining his safe space and invading his territory’ as he’d called it.
I backed off, my head swinging wildly as I glanced around for some form of escape. It was too late, their heavy footsteps thundered towards the door as I dived under the table, my skirt brushing my sneakers as I huddled on my knees to the middle off it, praying that I was hidden.  
My stomach shrunk as my name fell from my brothers lips, shaking as I waited for him to expose my position and embarrass me in front of their entire club. But it was followed by a laugh and the sound of flesh smacking flesh. A familiar pair of glasses tumbled to the floor and I had to bite back a whimper as Sean’s arm shot down to grab them, mere feet from where I was crouched.
“Yeah she’s my sister, she told us about you and I figured we needed some new players.” I could practically hear his chest puffing out as he tried to impress that he was important. Six chairs scraped against the floor as they pulled back and the knees of Eddie’s club scooted in closer to me, pressing in on all sides as I stopped breathing.
Laughter filled the small room and the the table top shivered as someone slammed their hands down on it, sending specks of dirt and dust to flutter onto my hair. Sweat built up between my thighs pressed against my calves as the panic set in, the boys were reaching into their bags, pulling out game equipment as they set up for one of their campaigns.
I was going to be here for hours.
The main door swung open again, and I watched the beaten, once white, Reebok sneakers make their way towards the end of the table where I sat. The largest chair that Eddie deemed as his “throne”, scraped back louder than the others as he folded himself into it. My face blazed hot as he man spread, widening his knees until his crotch, level with my face, was agonisingly obvious like it had its own beacon.
I wanted to slap myself for the perverted thoughts that filled my mind, that made my panties dampen between my thighs and my arms shake.
Fucking Jesus
Eddie rolled his hips towards me as he readjusted himself, his ring clad hand resting lighting on his knee as his finger traced slight circles along the fabric. My brother voice shot out on my left, reminding me where I was as I learned away from someone’s outstretched leg.
“Where were you?”
“Just seshing.” If I hadn’t of known him so well, I would have missed the slight grin in his tone, like he knew a secret the rest of them didn’t. My eyes travelled over his shaking knee as his hand flexed, wondering if he was talking about me. I’d come straight here after he’d left me outside of the gym, surely he had aswell?
“Anyone hot?” Gross
“Smoking. But not your type.” Eddie’s hand splayed against his thigh, running up the length of it as my middle clenched at the sight and his words sent my mind blank.
“Looks like everyone’s loved up Eds. Even little Sean here has a thing for my sister.” I wanted to punch Trevor, maybe kick him hard under the table under the pretence of someone else, except then someone might look under the table and I couldn’t imagine a worse situation to be caught in.
Eddie’s knuckles turned white as his hand clenched into a first, he voice was loaded with so much threat I was surprised that Sean didn’t run from the room.
“We already discussed this.” He tsked, his shirt riding up his stomach a little as he leant forward over the table.
“She’s too innocent to have a boyfriend.” His voice was low and thick, and the loud bout of laughter it earned from the table made my dig my nails into my palm, hating him more than ever in that moment.
Trevors laughed lasted the longest, brushing off Eddie’s threat as over bearing brotherly love as he pulled out the set up for their game and began.
Enough was enough.
Time to show Eddie how innocent I actually was.
As the entire table erupted in a vicarious debate over their campaign, and Eddie’s voice rang out louder than any of them, I crawled across the floor, leaning forward on my hands and shuffling on my knees as I avoided the mass of sneakers and made my way between Eddie’s legs.
He was still hunched over, blocking the light from shining down on me as I flattened myself on my thighs, my middle pressing against the cold floor as I straddled nothing.
I waited for another loud stream of laughter and raucous banging on the table to press my hands against Eddie’s knees.
He jolted and shot back in his chair from my touch, his little breath of Fuck was drowned out by someone yelling out over being attacked in the game.
His eyes met mine in disbelief as his brows knotted and he gave his head a little shake, I traced my nails across his jeans, moving up his thighs as he ran his tongue across his lips, his dark eyes becoming heavily lidded as they glanced around the table.
A burning within me trickled out across my skin as I explored more of Eddie, running my hands across his lap as I watched his bulge start to strain against his tight jeans, dancing under the hem of his shirt until my fingers brushed his cool belt buckle.
“Eddie!” His eyes tore away from mine as I pulled at his belt, pulling it through the metal clasp, marvelling that he wasn’t stopping me. He was powerless under my touch now, I was going to make him pay for what he’d said, and if he snitched on me now he would be as incriminated as I was. I grinned as I slipped the leather free of his pants.
“Huh? Oh, you’re faced with a fork in the trail, to your left is a darkened path, scarcely lit with a green glow at the end. To your right lays a steep climb with a golden slight blazing at the top. Which do you choose?”
Eddie’s hands shot down to slap mine out of the way, quickly ripping his zipper down to allow me faster access, his free hand moved to twist into my hair as he glanced down with a smirk on his face, gently guiding me towards his crotch as his club cried out in misery that they’d chosen the wrong path.
His tight hold against my head sent a thrill of warm honey down my spine, tingling deep in my pussy as I leant forward, running my tongue along my lips with a smile as I pulled him free from his jeans.
His pretty cock fell over the dark fabric, filling the space between us as I reached for it eagerly. Finally, after years of obsession and fantasies, I finally had thick length red and hard in my hand, twitching as it waited for me. My mouth salivated at the thought as Eddie’s hand pushed harder against the back of my head, begging for me.
It was all the prompting I needed as I leant forward on my knees, my round eyes staring up at his jaw line though my thick lashes, his flaring stare met mine as he chanced a quick look down, his cheeks reddening as he watched me wrap my hand around his base.
He shuddered a little beneath my touch, a drop of liquid trickled from the tip of his dick, and I caught it with my finger to bring to my lips curiously, I let it drop onto the tip of my tongue, the salty taste surprising me. I smirked and looked up to find Eddies eyes trained on my face, watching me warily. A sudden urge came over me, I leant further on my knees, needing to touch more of him, my head brushed hard against the underneath of tabletop, cringing as someone banged on it again. Eddie leant forward to hide me from view as I pressed soft kisses to his v-line, next to his dick, nibbling lightly at the skin as he gasped and jolted in my grip. Looking up at him I let the wetness from my mouth dribble onto his crotch, the liquid flowing down my arm as I stroked him back and forth, never leaving his gaze I slowly brought my lips to his tip. Listening to his uneven breath I let it slide back and forth across my bottom lip before I slid his entire length down my throat.
Eddie’s first clenched above the table as he raised his voice, trying to down out the stifled gags and wet squelches his cock was fucking into my throat.
“I- uh… you’re all down to fourteen hit points, what do you do?” His voice was thick with resistance as I wrapped my lips around his base and slowly dragged up, digging my nails into his knees.
His stare sent a blazing heat through me, the half fucked out look on his face as he glanced down like he couldn’t believe it, it filled me with the surety that I could do this. Splaying my free hand across his abdomen, trailing my sharp fingers across his skin softly, I began stroking him at a constant pace, quickly wrapping my lips around his dick once more and matching the strokes, gagging every once in a while when there was a yell or laugh loud enough to cover it. I shoved my head down until I reached the base where a light brown tuft of pubic hair tickled my forehead, with each bob of my head I swirled my tongue around him, feeling the ridges of the pulsing veins of his cock. His hands knotted themselves in my hair, sending throbs of pleasure throughout my frame, a pooling wetness gathering in my panties. My free hand moved under my skirt, slipping under my thin lacy material to rub fast and rough circles over my clit, picturing it was Eddie’s ring clad fingers as I stared up at his neck, his head thrown back as I listened to the dice roll across the table top and the entire group break into winning cheers. We both took advantage over the thundering, deafening cheers of success as Eddie fucked my face and my own fingers spurned my towards my hot release, as I felt him falter and curl over the table again, I pulled him free from my mouth, replacing it with my hand as I jerked him in long, hard strokes and hung my head back, my tongue pressing against my chin as I waited.
His muted gasps and moans were overpowered by the others congratulations at each other for their defeat, he untangled his hand from my hair as he wrapped his long fingers around my throat, tilting my head back as I took the tip of him into my warm mouth, his salty cum washed over my tongue as more than I thought was possible, shot across my face, streaks of it painted my cheeks and warmed my skin as it dropped across my chin.
Heat flowed between us as his chest heaved and he wiped the corner of my mouth, pressing his thumb into it until my eyes rolled back and the taste of him was dripping down the back of my throat, he brought his hand to his face and sucked on his thumb infront of everyone above us, licking the mixture of his cum and my spit clean from it as he watched me under the table.
“You know what Sean, if you want to date Trevor’s sister, be our guest. Maybe she isn’t as innocent as I thought.”
 Eddie glanced down at me through heavy lashes as his face flushed in a fucked out expression, staring at me like he was finally seeing me for the very first time. 
Part Two
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Also readers - if anyone’s looking for a slow burn Eddie x enemies to lovers, check out my Opposite Ends series (almost completed)
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➢ Eddie tag list }
@eddiemunsons-missingnipple @miarosso @eddies-hellfireshirt @mermemerald @hbaramas @lightcommastix @aaaasdfghjjkkllll @goldylions @mayafatimakhan @mavex @fckyeahlames @harrys-tittie @sl-tfor-joseph-quinn @chickennug90 @miss-momma-drama @luceneraium @eddiesgffff @sammararaven @nightless @dotslabyrinth @relocatedheads @princessbubblehoe @muggleluna @sagittariughs @gloryekaterina @e0509 @urlivingdeadgirl @crimsonsabbath @lem0nb0iii @lelenikki @bebe0701 @bratckerman @the-tacos-unite-blog @extravagantplant @plethoravellichor @justmesadgirl @alinepichi @corrodedcorpsess @fanfictioniseverything @iiheartu @maximizedrhythms @sleepygery @ms1oftheboys @brittanyyydamnit @xsecretsirenx @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @relocatedheads @figmentofquinn @daydreamerblues @hellfire-puppet @wonderful-outcast @drakensmainbitch @princessbubblehoe @iamaslutforcoffee @emolooswrld @tayhar811 @winterbuckystan1943-1917-1982 @eddiesgffff @alana4610 @munson-fixation @princesscutie23 @random000000sblog @leahthesith @ariesbabycitlaly @harringtonfan4 @briasnow-blog @figmentofquinn @anndeloespacio @hereforsmhut @alana4610 @sillypurplemurple @heliumjuliet @smexylittleswine @sav7689 @magnificantmermaid @foxxymunson @hesvoid3434 @kylakins88 @capricornrisingsstuff @smileforallthestrangers @ninapengbrev @mvrylee @princesseddie @desicroft02
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cieloclercs · 9 months
Text
what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc
PART: 3? (read part 2 here)
summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more
warnings. swearing, online hate, we’re getting to the angst now 🫣 arguments, charles is an idiot, arthur and joris being sick of his shit (but what else is new)
pairings. charles leclerc x arsty!reader
face claim. tara michelle
author’s note. again, i have no idea how much modern art sells for at auctions so don’t come at me if this seems unrealistic 🙏☹️ i also feel the need to clarify that y/n has 2 instagram accounts, one personal and one for art stuff ☺️
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liked by joris_trouche and 51,196 others
y/nsart auction update! 🎨
tide - sold for €12,460 erode - sold for €9,500 wave - sold for €20,890 glint - sold for €6,300
this is nothing short of a dream come true for me. the support i’ve seen both on social media and at the auction (once again, thank you to everyone who stopped by!) has been beyond anything i ever could have hoped for 🩵
if you’d told me when i was a little girl that one day people would pay for art i’ve created, i wouldn’t have believed you. i’m so so grateful to have been given this opportunity to do something that i love and to share it with the world 💗 i can’t wait to see what the future holds!
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username congratulations y/n! 💕💕
*y/nsart liked this comment
leclerc_pascale C'est tout à fait mérité. N'arrêtez jamais de peindre, ma fille, vous avez un don! / completely deserved. never stop painting, my girl, you have a gift!
y/nsart merci beaucoup 🥹 je promets de ne pas le faire x / i promise i won’t
arthur_leclerc congratulations petite sœur! / little sister
y/nsart merci arth ☺️
y/nsart also, ‘petite’? i’m literally older than you?
arthur_leclerc but you’re smaller 🙃
charles_leclerc toujours fière de toi, ma chérie ❤️ / forever proud of you, sweetheart
y/nsart 😐
charles_leclerc you’re still mad at me? ☹️
y/nsart if you wanted one of my paintings you could have just asked rather than wasting over €20,000. i would have let you have it for free
charles_leclerc i didn’t waste anything, y/n
username uh oh mom and dad are fighting 😳
username ironic how her highest selling painting was literally bought by her best friend 😭
username i guarantee you it would NOT have sold for that much if charles hadn’t been bidding
username i don’t want to be the one to say it but lately it kind of feels like y/n’s been using her friendship with charles as a way to promote her art…
username as much as i love y/n icl i think you might be right 🥲
username 🤢🤢🤢
username stop using charles’ fame to try and make yourself relevant! you’ll never be good enough for him babes 🥰
username the switch up on these comments from ‘fans’ is actually so embarrassing
username i know! it’s like as soon as y/n starts becoming successful everyone suddenly decides it’s not because of her own hard work but because of charles 🙄
username lmao how has she managed to make tens of thousands for that shit she calls art? i’m sensing a clout chaser 😂
username this REEKS of jealousy
username these comments make me sick. y/n has proved time and time again how talented and hard working she is. just because charles doesn’t know you exist doesn’t mean you get to hate on another girl who he ACTUALLY cares about. grow up.
*charles_leclerc and y/nsart liked this comment
username i feel so bad for y/n. no offence to charles but if he’d let the auction play out normally without bidding (although he does have a right to do so if he wants!) then she wouldn’t be getting all this hate right now 😔
comments on this post have been limited.
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liked by pierregasly and 1,567,836 others
charles_leclerc back to work 🇳🇱
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username no y/n like? ☹️
username is y/n with you?
username guys check kym illman’s instagram! he said charles turned up to the paddock alone…
username i mean, y/n could be arriving later right?
username if y/n isn’t there it’ll be the first race she’s missed since singapore last year 😳
username y/n has a life besides charles! just because she’s not at one race doesn’t mean they’ve fallen out or anything ☺️
username but think about it…neither charles nor y/n have posted anything to do with each other since the auction a week ago normally they can barely go a day without posting each other 🥴
username can everyone just stop talking about y/n 🙄 all she ever did was distract him anyway
username forza charles! ❤️
username he’s not even smiling :((
username because he knows ferrari are shit, it’s probably nothing to do with y/n
username i didn’t even mention her? 😭
joris_trouche i think you’re missing someone mate
username JORIS??
username HE KNOWS SOMETHING!!
username JORIS PLEASE TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW
username i hate to be the bearer of bad news but y/n just posted. she’s not at the grand prix 🥲
yourusername
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viewed by charles_leclerc and 9,637 others
replies:
arthur_leclerc oh shit arthur_leclerc what did he do joris_trouche just say the word and i’ll smack him for you 😁 ↳ yourusername please don’t do that 😭 yourfriend you don’t need him, mon amour ❤️ ↳ yourusername ☺️
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you:
did i do something wrong?
we haven’t spoken in a week
charlie 🤍:
no, y/n
you:
you won’t answer my calls
charlie 🤍:
i’ve been thinking about what you said
i don’t want you to have to deal with hate because of me
you:
so you think ignoring me is the answer?
charlie 🤍:
i’m not ignoring you, y/n, i’m trying to protect you
you:
what the fuck?
charles, i don’t care what people say about you
charlie 🤍:
but i do
isn’t it for the best? if we aren’t seen together for a while, you won’t get any of the hate
you:
you really don’t get it do you
if you think i want you to cut me off to ‘protect me’ then maybe you don’t know me as well as i thought you did
charlie 🤍:
don’t say that
i just want everyone to see you the way i do
you:
and i already told you, i don’t care what they think of me
i only care what you think
charlie 🤍:
why?
you:
i’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet
charlie 🤍:
figured what out? [ seen at 4:11PM ]
y/n?
you:
i think it’s best if we don’t see each other for a while
bye charles
charlie 🤍:
what?! [ seen at 4:13PM ]
y/n come back [ delivered at 4:14PM ]
just tell me what you mean [ delivered at 4:20PM ]
please y/n [ delivered at 4:47PM ]
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liked by yourfriend and 1,637,937 others
scuderiaferrari A DNF in Zandvoort for Charles. Now time to refocus ready for Monza 🔜
view all comments…
username what the actual fuck was going on with him today?
username i don’t know. i’ve never seen him so distracted 😕
username honestly a rookie mistake. if he’s going to be pulling shit like this then he doesn’t deserve his seat 🤷
username it’s just one mistake?? calm down 😭
username why do i feel like this has something to do with y/n…
username oh my god will you all shut up about y/n 🙄 they’re not even dating !!
username and? they’ve been best friends since they were 5 years old. if my childhood friendship broke down i’d be pretty fucking upset about it too
username we don’t actually know that they’ve fallen out tho…neither of them have said anything
username but isn’t it obvious? y/n not at the race, charles being distracted and sulky around the paddock? they’ve definitely argued about something
username charles i can’t keep defending you when you do this 💔💔💔
username how this guy has managed to keep his seat with all these mistakes i have no idea 😒
username hopefully y/n will be in monza to bring him some good luck🤞
➜ part 4
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Text
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ He Fell First; Literally
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content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader fic warning: lanauage, minor mentions of an ED so if that's something that might trigger you DO NOT READ IM NOT JOKING, author's note: so painfully not canon. i try my best, really i do, but i was not reading those books for memory at 12. i was consuming those books at a rate never before seen, not locking things into my brain. but the fact that i can feel in my bones that it's not super canon accurate makes me want to gorge my eye out but whatevas
y/n was having a pretty crap day. she had been up before apollo allowed the sun to rise, staring blankly over at percy’s side of the cabin. she had been keeping it the same, not shifting the comforter too much or moving his dirty socks from under the bed, knowing he hated when she messed with his stuff. but, every morning, she made sure the dust wasn’t settling. because dust meant more time passed and that thought made her queasy, even though it’s been months.
then, once it was a more acceptable time for her to leave cabin three, y/n had been running around the whole day. she was helping the harpies with breakfast then she had to train some of the younger kids with spears then she helped the hephestus cabin out which left her covered in soot and smelling like a firework. she helped clean out the pegasus stalls, allowing connor and travis to leave early and do as they please. all of that before ten in the morning! she marched her way to breakfast when it was called, putting stuff on her plate to ultimately scrape it all off into the fire, prayers and wishes for percy’s return and safety on loop in her mind. then, she had what chiron liked to call ‘check-ups’ but it was just therapy. she wouldn’t go if he hadn’t threatened to take away her title of camp counselor, something she prided herself on. so, she went, and she lied and said she definitely didn’t cry late at night and she definitely slept through the night and didn’t wake up from nightmares of her little brother contorted in unnatural ways and covered in blood.
leo would say his day was going pretty well, on the other hand. if you ignore the part that his best friend got amnesia, his bully turned into some tornado thing, both of his best friends fell into the grand canyon only to fly back up, and coach hedge was half goat. actually, his day was pretty crap too. now, he was sitting in some chariot thing, with a buff guy that had an inclination for rainbows and a blonde girl that was beyond disappointed by them for just being them. then, another tornado thing showed up, damaging the chariot and sending them rapidly towards the ground, though butch managed to still hold some control. good news was that they were at they’re location, bad news was that landing was going to be a bitch. the blonde girl leaned over the side of the chariot, looking around for someone.
“what are you doing?!” leo called over the rushing wind, looking at her like she was crazy, which took a lot considering the day he’s had.
“saving our lives. what time is it?” she asked, frantically, and leo just continued to stare.
“you’re asking for the time now?!”
“around 11, why does it matter?” piper replied, her grip firm on the side of the chariot.
“because we’re lucky!” the blonde girl replied with a wide grin before cupping her mouth, “y/n!”
“don’t feel very lucky right now,” leo muttered.
y/n marched away from the big house, muttering about the centaur under her breath before hearing a shout for her name. she frowned, looking around and seeing no one. then she looked up, her shoulders sagging as she noticed the chariot rapidly heading towards camp, a familiar blonde leaning over the edge, waving her hands and basically jumping up and down while she called out to y/n.
“annabeth!?” y/n called back, quickly breaking out in a run to get a closer look. she squinted, and noticed one of the wheels was missing.
“oh, gods,” y/n huffed before motioning towards the lake, “butch! go to the lake!”
“the lake? this high up, we might as well just jump off into the ground now,” jason stated, tilting his head at the blonde, annabeth, who seemed rather giddy even though they were most certainly about to die.
“not if the water comes to us,” she replied with a shrug, leaving the three to stare at her.
“oh, she’s cray-cray,” leo grumbled to himself, glancing down at the water that would certainly feel like cement if they jumped. the other blonde stood at the beach, other kids in orange t-shirts beginning to gather and stare.
“you guys have to jump!” y/n called, knowing she couldn’t catch all five of them and the chariot and the pegasus. she knew butch would look out for the pegasus and unclip him so he wouldn’t be injured. but still.
“i will not!” piper insisted, if anything, she tightening her hold on the chariot.
“you will die if you stay on,” annabeth told her, before gripping piper’s shoulders, “you have to trust me.”
“we just met you,” leo argued, causing annabeth to look over her shoulder at him.
“that’s when trust works best,” she reasoned and leo swallowed thickly, as she was starting to convince him.
“annie! running out of time here!” the girl from the beach called nervously.
“okay,” leo breathed out, causing piper to look at him like he’s crazy too.
“leo?!”
“look, if we’re gonna die anyways, i wanna be cool while i do it,” he joked back, like usual, moving closer to the open end. piper took a few more seconds to decide before moving towards him, a false confidence settling over her face.
without another thought, the five of them quickly ditched the chariot, which sent them plummeting towards the water…which seemed to rise to meet them, allowing them to simply slip into the bubbles, no so much as a sting against their skin. then they washed up against the beach, like the ocean was spitting them out. leo coughed up some of the water that managed to invade his lungs, rolling onto his back as he looked up at the sky. a girl’s face intercepted his view, the sun behind her head and hiding her features in shadows. he could make out her golden waves for hair, which were beginning to look like a halo from his view.
“you okay?” she asked, holding a hand out to pull him up.
“just peachy,” he muttered back, getting his arms behind himself and pushing his body into a half seated position. the sun moved from behind the girl’s face to next to it, allowing him to see her features finally. she gave him a soft smile, something like a laugh leaving her lips as she tilted her head at him. all the air squeezed out of his lungs and he felt like he could burst into flames, something he was rapidly trying to get under control.
“you could be having a worse day. i could have been busy,” the girl mused, shrugging her shoulders and leo opened his mouth to reply but the words seemed to die on his tongue, only sounds coming out. the girl giggled, sweetly, and it was like hearing the ocean in a seashell. then, a loud crash interrupted the moment, y/n’s head instantly shooting up and watching the chariot sink into the lake. she winced, quickly rising to her feet as another girl marched to the edge of the water, a shocked look on her face.
“nyssa, nyssa, please don’t freak out! i- i can get it out, promise!” the girl quickly reasoned, following with her hands outstretched like the other girl was a feral beast.
“y/n, we can’t build another one! the curse-”
“doesn’t exist. it’s all mental,” the blonde girl, assumable y/n, muttered in protest, earning her a glare.
“y/n!” nyssa huffed, throwing her hands up.
“i’ll get it out right now,” insisted y/n, raising her hands before another loud crunch was heard, the water rippling with an even louder gurgle. y/n winced again, lowering her hands as nyssa’s mouth dropped in shock.
“it didn’t-”
“it did,” y/n confirmed before nyssa screamed with her mouth closed, marching off. y/n closed her eyes, taking a calming breath before turning to the crowd that had gathered around the new arrivals.
“hey! shoo! nothing to see here,” she joked, waving away the other people in orange, watching them slowly leave, not without a few more glances at the newly found trio. she spun back to the new arrivals, helping piper to her feet before turning to annabeth, pulling her into a hug.
“hey, you!” she cheered before pulling back, noticing the blonde’s discouraged look, “hey, he’s okay. we’d feel it if he wasn’t. go get chiron, yeah? i’ve got this.”
“i know…but, it’s hard,” annabeth whispered back. y/n patted her cheek lovingly before gently steering her away.
“hello! sorry, this is one of the more chaotic ways i’ve seen people come to camp! busy, busy, that’s me,” y/n stated as she approached the three with a welcoming smile.
“i’m sorry, but who are you? why are we here? where even is here?” piper questioned rapidly, still trying to wring the water out of her shirt.
“agh, this is going terribly,” y/n huffed before taking a quick breath, “let’s start over, yeah? i’m y/n l/n. this is camp half-blood, which is a camp for people like us, children of gods and morals. therein lies the ‘half blood.’”
“god? like, god and jesus?” leo questioned, squinting and tilting his head. y/n gave him a soft smile, which caused his bpm to surely spike.
“no, greek gods. athena, poseidon, zeus,” y/n listed quickly.
“jupiter,” jason corrected before he could stop himself, frowning as the word left his mouth. y/n turned to him with a small frown too, tilting her head.
“that…that’s roman…interesting,” she muttered before shaking her head, “sorry. i never asked your names.”
“you apologize a lot. i’m piper mclean,” piper stated, holding her hand out to shake y/n’s already stretched hand.
“sorry,” y/n jokes, winking, causing piper to let out a little laugh. she then turned to jason, who seemed to be deep in thought, before he shook it off and looked at her.
“jason…grace.” he replied, unconfidently.
“you…you don’t seem so sure,” y/n replied, giving his hand a quick shake with a frown.
“i’m not. i’ve- i’ve got amnesia,” he replied, causing y/n’s frown to deepen.
“i’m sorry to hear that. i’ll make sure to tell will. he’s our resident healer, maybe he can figure it out,” y/n told him, giving him a soft smile to which he nodded off, before y/n turned to leo. she had to admit, he’d caught her eyes easily. his curly hair and olive skin, how his hands never seemed to sit still (more so than expected of demigods), the way he smiled at her. but, she’d closed off that part of her heart a long time ago. she didn’t have time for it, she’d tell herself late at night.
“leo valdez. bad boy supreme,” he offered up, causing y/n to raise an eyebrow at him as he briefly shook her hand before flipping it over and pressing his lips against. she rolled her eyes, fighting off a blush.
“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you're a child of aphrodite,” she replied with a huff, slowly pulling her hand back.
“right back at ya,” leo mused, proudly with a wink.
“down boy,” mocked y/n before turning away and to the other two present, “alright, so i’ll start of the tour of camp half-blood! don't worry, you're gonna love it here!”
you were expert at this tour, sure you could give it blindfolded. you told little anecdotes, even managing to earn you a smile from jason, something you proudly celebrated. you walked backwards as you called out the cabins, pointing with both hands like a flight attendant signaling exits. at least, you thought that's what you looked like. you really had no idea as you've never been flying and probably never would, zeus not exactly a big fan of yours. for such a short tour, quite a lot of claiming went down, something that had you fondly thinking of your brother and not so fondly thinking of luke castellan. you ended your tour at the big house, knowing chiron would be wanting to talk to them, jason especially.
"chiron's gonna take it from here. if you've got any questions, don't be afraid to seek me out!! well, enjoy camp!" y/n mused, clapping her hands before going to walk away but chiron called out to her, ignoring the wide eyed stares he was getting from the trio for being part horse.
"y/n, dear, would you be so kind as to check on annabeth? i worry for her. oh, and will mentioned something about needing help in the infirmary...if you'd be willing," he stated and leo could tell from the minor twitch of her eye that y/n wished she wasn't so willing.
"of course, chrion. when have i ever said no to you?" the girl asked, plastering a smile on her face that clearly took a lot out of her before spinning around on her heels and marching away. and leo's eyes stayed on her, and while they'd typically drift down to her ass, he couldn't bring himself to look downwards as his worry for her overtook his soul.
dinner finally came around, leo sort of following nyssa like a lost puppy. he wasn’t completely sure of himself in this place yet, and nyssa was more than happy to show him the ropes. she grabbed her own dinner, showing him how before one of their other siblings calls for her. she left him and leo glanced around before his eyes settled on a nearby blonde, a smile growing on his lips. he slid in behind her, pretending to be excited over a roll and plopping it down on his plate. y/n glanced over at him, a small smile appearing on her lips before she continued walking and inspecting the food presented to them.
“so, day one. how’s it going?” she asked, sighing as she glanced at the food. her stomach was aching for some food, but her guilt held stronger. Who knows the last time percy had a good meal…or even if he was alive-
“eh. you know, as far as first days in new places go, this isn’t too bad. once got swirly within the first hour of being at a new school,” leo mused, throwing together a random plate of food. y/n laughed lightly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she grabbed an apple.
“give a few hours, the ares kids can smell fresh meat,” y/n joked back, leaning over with a wink before walking away from the food towards her table. leo's lips twitched into a small frown before quickly grabbed a bowl of fruit before following.
“so, are there like clique tables i should watch out for or?” leo prompted, fully expecting to sit with y/n. she looked over at him, her brows furrowing.
“nyssa didn’t tell you? you sit with your siblings. each god and goddess has a table. yours is over there,” explained y/n, pointing over at the hephestus table while still walking towards her lonely table. leo continued to follow, a frown on his lips.
“so…you sit by yourself?” he questioned, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, “a girl like you shouldn’t have to sit by herself.”
“well, i wasn’t always alone…look, these- these are rules, okay? i’m sorry, leo, but you’ve got to sit at your table,” y/n replied, shaking her head as if ridding herself of memories. leo continued to frown before setting the bowl of fruit down on her table and sliding it over to her. she looked up at him, confusion clear on her face.
“you didn’t grab enough to eat,” he explained with a shrug before giving her a salute as he walked back to his table. y/n’s eyes never once left him until he was with his siblings and managed to catch her gaze, the girl promptly averting her eyes and missing the smile that grew on leo’s lips. she looked down at the bowl of fruit fondly before digging in, eating her fill for the first time in months.
“what’s her story?” leo asked over dinner, his eyes trained on y/n as his fork passively stabbed at something on his plate. nyssa looked up from her food at him before following his gaze to y/n.
“who? y/n? ha, you must think highly of yourself,” nyssa scoffed, noting the ways his eyes practically formed hearts. leo sputtered, turning to nyssa with a glare.
“what?”
“she’s got every guy in camp half-blood on her tail. i wish you the best of luck trying to win her over, many people have tried and failed,” nyssa replied with a shrug.
“not what i meant,” leo huffed, returning his eyes to his plate. nyssa looked over at him, frowning.
“what did you mean then?”
“how’d she get here? what’s she like? stuff like that,” leo answered before shaking his head, “look it’s stupid-”
“she’s enigmatic. nicest girl you’ll ever meet, but harsh when she needs to be. she never backs down from anything; she once performed a whole choreographed song and dance during lunch because she lost a bet. poor y/n had to do stall duties for a week after that, but she did it with a smile, telling everyone it was so worth it. y/n l/n is the best of all of us,” nyssa cut in, her words so honest and truthful that leo got sucked in.
“her brother, percy, went missing a few months ago. she lived for him, everything she did was for her brother. technically, they aren’t even full siblings, like you and i. but, they weren’t like that. they became family quickly. she likes to pretend that she’s fine, but everyone knows she’s not. that bowl of fruit…it’s the first thing i’ve seen her eat in a few weeks," confessed nyssa, giving leo a pointed look. he couldn't help the pride that filled his chest at the thought.
and then determination quickly settled into the boys bones. he was determined to make sure she kept eating, three meals a day at least. he was determined to make her laugh, help her find some joy. he was determined to ensure that the daughter of the sea god never saw another cloudy day, not if leo had anything to say about it.
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kaaaaaaarf · 5 months
Note
Hey you, I'm here for Wolfstar raising harry recommendations 🤗
Hello!! I'm also going to tag @imsiriuslyreading because I know Lana was also looking for some recs!
This is by no means a comprehensive list, but these are some of my very favs:
Wolfstar Raising Harry
Ten Reasons (To Go To Michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 (I also love these two unrelated wolfstar raising harry microfics by the same author) — This is a Sirius raising Harry and meeting recently divorced Remus (who happens to be a writer) on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. A must read! that's the art of getting by by sarewolf — Remus becomes Harry's guardian and they move to a muggle village in the middle of nowhere. Eventually, Sirius is freed and comes to stay with them, but can they get back what they once had? Honestly, majorly obsessed with this one, but watch out for the angst! Stealing Harry by copperbadge — In an alternate universe where Sirius Black never went to Azkaban, Harry divides his life between the Dursleys' house and Mr. Black's bookshop -- until Sirius realises what the Dursleys are doing to him, and takes him away from their care. This series is fucking amazing and actually spans several of the books!! Mr Mouse by TracingPatterns (which continues in their wolfstar raising harry series) — A lovely little piece in which a young Harry learns about grief.
Like Real People Do by third_crow (part of the coffee shop au series) — Sirius raising Harry, when he starts falling for local barista Remus Lupin. This is also a beautiful story about what it's like to live with epilepsy and I am extremely obsessed with this series. The Things I Did by Lolo_row — canon compliant, Remus gets custody of Harry and works to get Sirius out of Azkaban. A bit of angst, but tasty! the dogfather au by hollimichele — Harry was raised by his adoptive muggle family, when one day a big black dog shows up. His parents just thinks he's a stray, and Padfoot becomes the family pet (to keep an eye on Harry, and protect him from Voldemort). Eventually this morphs into Remus also coming into the picture.
Wolfstar Raising Teddy
the mayors of simpleton by @fruityindividual — Divorced wolfstar are co-parenting a very mischievious Teddy who is not about to let his dads stay divorced!! Honestly this fic is so funny, so heartfelt, so fucking lovely. It also features the most beautiful portrayal of a blind character that I ever seen. A must read! Of Memories and Milk Thievery by @mayescapade — Divorced wolfstar raising Teddy again! Wolfstar have been co-parents for years and they wont stop terrorizing/pranking one another. An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account — Single dad Remus. Remus Lupin knows two things--working and caring for his son, Teddy. When his babysitter sets up crowdfunding so Teddy can go swim with the sea turtles at the local animal rescue, Remus doesn't realise how completely their life is going to change. Especially when he meets Sirius Black, the weekend merman in the aquatic show, and someone who might convince him of love at first sight. Honestly a lovely piece, and it also features the Potter clan.
Other (raising both teddy and harry, wolfstar girldads)
Let's Play Pretend by MsAlexWP — My current obsession!! I can't tell you how many times I've read this. Single parent Remus and single parent Sirius meet at a play date and end up pretend dating so that the old women in Sirius' building (who basically stalk him) will stop trying to set him up. Neither of them can date at the moment, so what could possibly go wrong?? Ultimate comfort fic. Of Quiet Hearts And Thundering Dreams by TracingPatterns — This is single parent Sirius and single parent Remus, both having moved to a small village and meeting at Harry & Teddy's school. A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP — Again, they are both single parents. Harry Potter is recovering from surgery and facing the worst summer ever until a guy with the same crutches as Harry moves in across the street with his son. So lovely!! Hide-and-Seek by onehundredflamingos — Wolfstar girldads raising their adoptive daughter Cassie, who is also a werewolf. This is the story of her first transformation. It's soooo sweet! @industrations has done a bunch of wolfstar and Cassie art, which you should absolutely go and cry over!
For supplementary material, feel free to check out my Wolfstar Raising Harry, Wolfstar Raising Teddy and Wolfstar Girldads tags!
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starryknight-tarot · 10 months
Text
𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓻
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pile 1 -- > pile 2
pile 3 -- > pile 4
my masterlist<3 . paid readings
Hello beautiful souls✨ I am back with another tarot card reading. It's been a minute cause I've been feeling kinda lazy. Today we will be looking into what is next in yalls career. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't.
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Pile 1
Cards: Nine of Pentacles, Eight of Swords rx, Two of Swords, Nine of Swords, Ten of Cups, The Empress, Seven of Cups rx, Six of Pentacles
Back of the deck: Death
There is a lot of positive changes coming in your career Pile 1. You could have been held down by a tough career that wasn't fulfilling you or you could have felt that it wasn't your life's purpose to be working there. You also could have a strict authority figure in your life that has pressured you to do a certain job, maybe even taking on the family business I am hearing. I keep seeing people dancing so you could be a dancer and people in your life don't approve. But I am seeing you over coming this Pile 1. I am seeing you as free, no longer bound by the things holding you back from pursuing your dreams. After you finally go for it and take action to your dream job, it will manifest easily. I am hearing that companies will fight for you to join them. I am hearing this will happen very quickly, and it may be very overwhelming for you. There may be a tough decision that you need to make regarding the future of your career and it is stressing you out. There is a lot of anxiety and self doubt in this pile so you may not believe that it's possible for this to happen and doubt your abilities but I am really getting that you can do anything you put your mind to. Negative thoughts right now will only make these opportunities come slower. Right now, you need to realize that you have the power to do something incredible with your skills, you deserve better than what you have now and your career will blossom. When you do, money will be abundant. You may have been paid very poorly and unfair, but I am seeing you will be paid for your hard work and it will be plentiful. You will feel a sense of belonging in your career, a career you can grow old doing. You may even make close friends at your job that will stay with you for a lifetime. You need to take a risk and take action to manifest this in your career Pile 1.
Advice Cards:
It's time to try something new!
Your child self needs your attention
Have a closer look at your family situation
It is important to understand and value your own energy
You can manifest your heart's desire
You need to make the first move
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 2
Cards: Four of Cups rx, Ten of Wands rx, Two of Swords rx, The Hanged Man rx, Strength, The High Priestess, The World, Ace of Wands
Back of the deck: Nine of Cups
I feel like you are someone that has held on to a childhood dream your whole life Pile 2. You are so passionate about your dream career, that you can't imagine doing anything else. And I do feel like this career is your divine purpose. But for some reason you are holding yourself back achieving this. I feel like you have been waiting for this dream to manifest without actually making the moves to bring it to life. Pile 2, I feel like you have skills that the world needs to see, you could aspire to be an influencer or a celebrity. I keeping hearing, "The world needs to see you." you could also just want to do something that is very public. I feel like a career with a lot of freedom to be as creative as possible would be the best for you Pile 2. You have a lot of great ideas and plans that I am hearing would go viral. For some of you, you may be into fashion or making clothes. Some of you may even be tarot readers and it's your divine purpose to help guide people through spirituality. Pile 2, I feel like you are scared to put yourself out there and admit that you are something special and have the talent to achieve your dream. I am seeing you achieving your dream Pile 2. When you finally push through and post what you need, apply for the job, suggest an idea, you will be rewarded by the universe. When you do this you will gain more confidence in yourself to finally do more and put yourself out there more. It will encourage you to be more creative and make even more beautiful ideas. You really just need to believe in yourself Pile 2!
Advice Cards:
Change is being introduced into your life
You are much stronger than you think
It's time to realize the blueprint of your soul
Set the conditions. You will succeed!
It is time to take appropriate action
You are healing at a cellular level
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 3
Cards: Five of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, Nine of Wands, Seven of Pentacles, The Star, Knight of Pentacles, Eight of Swords, Ten of Swords rx
Back of the deck: The Empress
I am getting for this pile that this may be your first job or you are just starting a new job. I am seeing that this job is something you have been trying really hard to get to, something that would get you closer to your dreams. I am also getting that some of you are very anxious about this new job and I am hearing that you really need to keep a positive mindset when approaching this job which I know is easier said then done but I would recommend repeating affirmations when you get nervous about. I am specifically thinking of drag queen named Jinx Monsoon that repeats "water off a ducks back" when she gets nervous so that might resonate with someone lol. I am seeing you are very hardworking Pile 3, willing to push yourself to achieve your goals. But some of you need to brace yourself and try not to overwork yourself so you don't burn yourself out. If you push yourself, you will feel trapped in an endless loop, I am seeing a spider caught in a web. Despite this I do see a lot of financial successful coming towards you Pile 3. I think it will make you feel really accomplished and proud of yourself (as you should). Although I am seeing some of your coworkers have really nasty energy and they may be jealous of all your success. I feel like they may try to bring you down so beware of any nasty energies around you Pile 3. While there may be a lot of jealously with some coworkers, I am seeing someone has your back at your job. This person is gonna be your rock. I am getting a more masculine energy but it doesn't have to be. This person could be your best friend or for some of you a potential love interest. Overall, I am seeing you shining brightly in your coming career.
Advice Cards:
Boldly imagine what you can do and be
You are ready to receive your fortune. Be miracle minded!
You are birthing a new self
Release what you do not need. Let go of some extraneous aspects of your life
The challenge is intended to promote your growth
Stand your ground
Get clear about your intention and hold firm
Channeled Songs:
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Pile 4
Cards: Six of Pentacles rx, Three of Cups rx, The Empress, Page of Wands, Six of Swords, Ten of Pentacles, Nine of Pentacles, Five of Wands
Back of the deck: Knight of Wands
I see a lot of gain and possible loss for this pile. I am getting for some of you, you may have already achieved something really big in your career.I see this pile gaining the most financial abundance out of all the piles. It could be a family business that you may post about online and it becomes super successful. If you aren't in a family business it may be a good choice for you. Some of your careers may relate to food, more specifically deserts. I feel like you are about to make the most money you have ever made in your life. I feel like this success will come very quickly, almost overnight. This success will also help inspire to work even harder and make more. Now I am seeing there are either two scenarios for this pile. Some of you have had a lot of people practically spit on your hard work and are taking advantage of your talents. These people could be ex friends or for some of you extended family. These people are gonna be jealous and feel like they deserve credit for your hard work and imma say right now that these people are full of shit and don't deserve an ounce of credit. You may be trying to working independently and be your own boss. Then, there is another scenario where there are people in your life that helped you get to the success and wealth that you will receive and may not get some credit that they deserve. You might fight about this with these people and I am getting this person is in the right and is getting unfair payment. It is recommended to make things right with these people. For both scenarios, there is a strong possibility of people leaving your life after this success. But spirit is really saying for you to not let this stop you from enjoying your success and be proud of yourself for all of your achievements.
( a lot of these were pretty similar to other piles so if you felt called to any other piles please do read them )
Advice Cards:
You are healing at a cellular level
Set the conditions. You will succeed!
Weigh your situation carefully
It's time to realize the blueprint of your soul
It's time for appropriate action
Take good care of yourself, especially your heart
Channled Songs:
Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.
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bryngmemoney · 3 months
Text
✁FASHION FLIRT✃
Megumi Fushiguro x Reader
⭑story masterlist link
tw:none
Writing in between messages!!
🪡Chapter Fifteen: 8-ball
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“You have to show me him!” Yuki exclaimed as you adjusted her outfit, making sure everything fit well. “Well, I could show you a picture, but he’s gonna come in right after you, so you could stay a minute extra.”
You two were referring to Megumi, as Yuki had always been one interested in starting conversation on people’s types. You were no exception. She told you that the reason she did it revealed a lot about the person without them knowing, you could see what she meant to an extent but really only she knew what she was talking about.
“Ooo, like how soon after me?” You looked at the time displayed on your phone, seeing the lock screen show the song you were quietly playing in the background for you and Yuki, as you guys were the only ones around. The numbers at the top read the time 5:50. “Like in ten minutes maybe, he said he’d be here around six.”
You backed up, asking Yuki to spin for you, seeing that everything seemed to fit well. “Does anything feel off?” “No, it’s perfect actually!”
“Great! Well that’s really all, you can go and change again, are you staying for a few?”
“Well I am curious, i’ll stick around with you for a bit.”
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6:20, and Megumi was no where to be seen. “Is he running late?” Yuki asked leaning her back against the table while she sat down, facing you who was standing up, peaking out the window of the studio room to see if there was any sign of anyone walking in.
“I don’t know, he hasn’t answered the text I sent him.”
“He usually shows up on time?”
“Most of the time, there was just once where he showed up late, but that’s because of something that was happening.” You turned back to Yuki, checking your phone just once again to see if there was any sign from him. “Like how late?” You placed your phone down, sighing before answering “40 minutes..”
“Oh, wow.”
“He made up for it though!” You defended, “He took me out to dinner, it wasn’t really a date because his friend was there too, but still!” Yuki just hummed seeming amused in your story.
“Okay, i’ll wait another 10 minutes max with you then, but if he still hasn’t responded or shown up, we’re leaving.” You yawned in response, not feeling tired because it was late, but instead because this week had really exhausted you with class work. “Can’t we make it 15?”
“Listen, he’s already done something like this before, and you’re tired, just tell him not to show up and talk it out later, but if I was you i’d go and take the fattest nap ever first.”
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Megumi sighed after finally finishing his project presentation for his Photo Seminar class. He really needed to try on this assignment, as his last one wasn’t the best. He didn’t fail, but he wasn’t anywhere near where he wanted or needed to be. Stressing over it he was glad to have finally finished his preparation, feeling a weight being lifted off him that is until he checked the time to be 6:38, then it was replaced with panic, remembering he had promised to meet you around six today. He looked for his phone, only to find it and see a text from you already saying you left 7 minutes ago.
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Author’s Note: date with megumi officially planned🗣️‼️
tbh i think beer pong is my favorite imessage game
hope you guys enjoyed!
Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!
TAGLIST
@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @reneny @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst
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fan-goddess · 1 year
Note
Hello lovely xo, can I request Aemond reuniting with his childhood love/crush at a feast after not seeing her for six years.
Author Note: Hi love of course you can! I wrote so much more for this than I thought I was gonna write I really took of, plus after looking back at the request I didn’t make them meet at a feast… still I hope your happy!
Word count: 5.3K words
Warnings: None explicitly needed, though reader is described as being female, kissing stuff and insecurities
Other Links: My Ewan Mitchell masterlist for more Aemond content
Taglist: @blue-serendipity
—————
Aemond was one and ten when he first laid his eyes on you, the daughter of Tyland Lannister.
You had golden hair that resembled Sunfyres scales. Your eyes were green like grass. Oh and your smile, it could light over a thousand lanterns. He easily thinks the best part about you was that smile…
The first time Aemond saw you up close was in the library. He was researching Daenys’ prophecies when he heard a strange thumping noise go off within the shelves.
“Hello?” He called out. “Is anyone here?” An annoyed scowl taking over his face when no one showed up immediately to take credit. He went back to reading, though soon he became too on edge to even get past another sentence. What if there was actually a person hidden in the shelves and they wish to kill him?
Aemond put down his book and walked into the shelves, peeking round the corners to see if anyone lurked there. He looked for a couple minutes, shifting from his least favourite section the poetry books to his favourite the section on Targaryen history.
That’s however, when he sees golden hair peeking from the sides of the display. He doesn’t choose to call out to them, in fear the mysterious person will flee and he’ll never get to see them. Aemond slowly takes out his dagger and stalks towards the person, his heart beating rapidly at the possibility of a fight taking place.
When he turns the corner though, with his dagger held high and stance ready to take a fight, he feels his heart is about to burst from his chest when he sees you innocently sitting on the ground with a book in your lap. You seem to be asleep, as the pages aren’t being turned and your neck seems to have laid itself in an uncomfortable position.
He places his dagger back in its hold and kneels forward to take a look, and to see if you truly are sleeping. He nearly smiles when he sees how innocent you look in this view. Though Aemond knows he should not be jealous at that moment, and goes to wake you up as carefully as he can.
“M-my lady…” He all but whispers, gently taking the book from your lap. His restraint shows well as his hands attempt to not caress the skin that’s being revealed from your slightly ridden up skirt. “My lady, I think you need to wake now.” He uses one hand to gently shake your shoulder and the other to grasp your chin and pull your head up. His restraint is tested once more when his thumb nearly brushes over your lips.
Aemond is ever so grateful when you let out a small groan and groggily open your eyes. It’s almost amusing when your eyes turn panicked when you realise the situation you were in. “M-my prince I am so sorry!” You shout. Attempting to stand up but you nearly fall over in the struggle. “P-please do not punish me for being here!”
Aemond cannot help but give an amused smile at your panic. “It’s okay my lady!” He smiled, now standing up to be level with you only to embarrassingly realise you were taller then him… “What is it you were reading?”
You look confused now. Probably wondering why he isn’t kicking you out and demanding your head for sneaking in. “It is not a trick question my lady. What is you were reading?”
“I was reading about your own dragon my prince…” Aemond had to strain his ears to hear what you said, but when he does his ears turn scarlet. You were specifically looking at his dragon and not Sunfyre or Caraxes? Even the book of Balerions journey could’ve been the one you were reading about but no, you chose to look into Vhagar. It made him smile almost cockily.
“And why my dragon in particular?” He grinned. If his mother was there she’d not be happy he was fishing for compliments from a Lannister, yet she wasn’t here at that moment to see the pride that filled him so he carried on anyways.
“She’s an important part of your family’s history! Her nickname is Queen of the dragons which is one of the best names for any of the dragons both still alive and dead!” The way you ramble about his dragons makes his ears burn and smile somehow both bashful and yet cocky at the same time.
Aemond nearly invites you to go meet Vhagar the moment he sees you begin to smile at him, though it takes all his restraint to just talk to you about Vhagar. The two of you become more and more passionate in your conversation and continue to talk until the shelves become dark and nearly impossible to see.
Aemond insists on escorting you to your temporary chambers, secretly relishing when you insist bashfully that you could very easily escort yourself. “I insist my lady you do not know the sort of people that hang around in the corridors of this castle. My brother being one of them…” He relishes even more when he hears you giggle and shyly accept his offer.
The next morning though, when he’s washed himself thoroughly and dressed himself as fancy as he could without Aegon picking up on his intentions, Aemond walks to your chamber doors and knocks nervously. For all he knows you could be half dressed, or still asleep, or even taking a bath… He’s only half sorry when his mind begins to wonder.
Aemond does begin to worry when he stands outside of your chambers for nearly ten minutes and he hears no movements. He takes a deep breath before heading into your chambers, and takes notice of its near pristine state. “My lady?” He calls, even though he knew secretly that it was useless to call for you. He does a little walk around the room to see if he could tell why your presence seems to have left the room.
The sheets and the bed covers are pulled tightly and tucked into the bed. The personal items Aemond had managed to get a small peek at when he brought you to your room last night looking as if they were never their in the first place. The room looked as if nobody had ever slept their that night.
The lack of life in the room made Aemonds skin crawl. Maybe you weren’t even there in the first place? A cruel figment of his imagination that made him believe for a short time he was normal. So he went to the first person he thought could help. His mother.
“Mother, I visited the Lannister daughter this morn to invite her to break fast with us, but she was not there and her room was empty. Do you know why this is?”
“Yes my sweet boy. The girl and her father were summoned back to Casterly Rock near late last night. It seems the lady Lannister had started her labours earlier than the maesters would have liked.” His mother said, looking to her son in sympathy when she saw the saddened look on his face.
“Do you know if she- I mean if they’ll return when her mother has given birth?” Aemond could not help but try and be hopeful, even if he knew their was no chance of it being anything like that.
“I doubt it, sweet boy. The mother has gone into labour nearly a month earlier than expected. I highly suspect the babe may not survive, so they will no doubt wish to mourn the child if it does pass.”
Aemond tried to stop the frown that he could feel was stretching on his face, though it was no use. His mother had already seen it and was looking at him like he was weak. Like he was a silly boy with just a silly crush on a silly girl.
That was the moment Aemond devoted himself to leaving that silly boy behind. Soon he’ll become a man. Maybe it was all secretly so you’ll want to marry him just as much as he secretly wishes to marry you… but he’ll never admit to that.
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It’s been six years since Aemond last saw you. He secretly writes letters to you every week, imagining you receiving them and holding them to your chest in excitement. He has never forgotten you. Late at night when he goes to sleep he secretly always wishes for dreams of you to keep him company. None that are dirty of course! Though Aemond didn’t complain when he had one every once in a while…
“Aemond did you hear what I just said?” His mothers voice broke him out of his thoughts.
“No mother I was thinking about, things.”
“Well, as I was saying. We will be hosting the Lannisters for a ball for their eldest daughter starting next week. Her father wishes for her to stay here in kingslanding for a year to give her a better chance at finding a potential and acceptable suitor for her. I believe she’s around your age Aemond...” Aemond could feel his heart beating out of his chest. You were coming back here? He’ll finally get to see you again and see how much you’ve no doubt changed after all these years…
“A marriage with the Lannisters will no doubt be helpful in the long run. I suggest talking to her before anyone else. Her house is a useful ally, though her father will no doubt attempt to go for whoever possess the larger coin pouch.” His grandsire commented halfheartedly as he tucked into his food. Aemond only gave a simple nod before retreating back to his mind, indulging in the simple fantasy of seeing you again.
The rest of that week, Aemond could not take you out of his mind. He had not acted like this since you left six years ago, and it was easy to tell. He was less enthusiastic in his training with ser Cole, thinking of how when you were his bride you’d be sitting proudly on the balcony watching him. He couldn’t read peacefully in the library, only thinking back to how he first met you and how much you truly made him smile that day.
Thankfully to Aemond though the week went surprisingly quickly, and before Aemond knew it he was standing proudly yet nervously for your carriage to pull up and for you to come out.
He’d put on fresh clothes that morning and requested to have a bath drawn for him. He took an awful long time making sure every single part of him was clean and that his hair held no sweat or grease of any kind. Aemond could not shake the look of amusement from both Aegon and his mother, both taking notice of Aemonds sudden pristine condition and nervous exterior.
When the carriage carrying your house colours arrived, Aemond felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Would you even recognise him? Would you even be the same girl he met and talked to all those years ago?
Aemond nearly lets his mouth fall open when you walk out of the carriage, and only just catches the actions before he could embarrass himself anymore than Aegon will no doubt bring upon them.
Your hair still holds the same golden colouring to it, the sun looking like it was reflecting off it. Your figure has quite obviously changed in the years you were gone, the most prominent ones being the fact you’ve… matured. It’s almost amusing to him that you’re shorter than him, when before you were the one who looked down at him as children. Your smile though, that has not changed at all.
He sees the way Aegon leers at you when you curtsy to his mother and thank her for his families hospitality. It brings him such a great amount of joy to kick Aegon swiftly and firmly in the legs when your back is turned talking to Helaena.
Over the next few days, as much as Aemond hates to admit it, he has been hiding from you. Aemond cannot bring himself to strike up a conversation with you, possibly due to a fear that he refuses to acknowledge.
Though he cannot deny the jealousy that takes over him when he sees you laughing with Aegon of all people. When you laugh, you hold your hand in front of your mouth, a trick taught to all young ladies according to Helaena. Though he believes it to be a terrible thing, as it hides the way your face lights up when you’re overcome by laughter.
Aemond even finds himself jealous of Helaena, who you seemed to have grown close to in the last few days. From what he has observed, the two of you like to sit under the tree in the courtyard and discuss a whole manner of items Aemond cannot hear from where he observes on a nearby balcony.
He’s disgusted with himself for acting like some common man, though even though he knows it’s morally wrong he still cannot bring himself to stop. As long as he cannot bring himself to talk to you, he watches you to bring himself a strange sort of comfort. To know that you are okay and safe and nowhere near himself.
Though it seems that you have been upholding a different idea, as one moment when Aemond is looking at you talking with Helaena, he sees you turn to him, look him dead in the eye and show him a kind smile. He can feel his eye widen in the sudden acknowledgement and hide behind a nearby pillar. It brings secret relief to hear your giggle. Assuring him that you are not disgusted as he is in his nature, and that instead you are amused by it for some unknown reason…
Aemond looks around the corner, expecting to see you resuming your conversation with another one of your beautiful smiles on your face, though he is scared nearly out of his skin to find you face to face with himself. It takes him a near minute to find words. No amount of words that he had read over the years seemed to come to him no matter how much he willed it.
“I-I’m sorry for intruding on you my lady Lannister!” He stammered with a bright red face. Aemond does not think he has ever felt as sheepish or as shy as he has at that moment. His face only reddens though when you seem to giggle at him, whether in amusement or in mocking he does not know.
“It is fine my prince.” You smile. Aemond cannot help himself from comparing your voice to the one you possessed as a child. It’s gotten lighter, he thinks. Before you seemed to be shy to talk to him, though that may have been more to do with circumstances rather than who you were talking to, and now your voice held a sense of ease. “Me and your sister were merely nibbling on some honey cakes and talking about the silly things? Would you care to join us?”
When he takes too long to respond, purely out of surprise that you wished for him of all people to join you, you seem to have taken his silence in the wrong context. “You do not have to join if you do not wish to participate in silly lady gossip-“
“Nonsense!” Aemond blurts with a shyness that brings him nearly straight back to his boyhood. “I would be honoured to join a lady such as yourself my lady for what you called, silly lady gossip.” Aemond cannot describe the joy he feels when he sees your reddened cheeks and happy smile. It should be you the painters should be painting, not himself when there’s such obvious other beauties in this world.
The roles are reversed however, when you take his hand in your own and lead him to where you and Helaena were previously conversing. It takes every fibre of his being to not send a cold glare in Helaenas direction. Especially when she sends an amused look and a raised eyebrow his way at the sight of his flushed cheeks and awkward expression.
It surprises Aemond though, when he finds himself enjoying what he had thought would be a dreary conversation. It brings a smile to his face when he makes you laugh so hard you forget to put your hand in front of your face. He even nibbles politely on a couple of the fresh honey cakes you offer him bashfully.
When the supposed picnic is over, Aemond is prepared for you to go off with Helaena and leave him. Though it surprises him when Helaena says her goodbyes, claiming she has a duty she needs to fulfil, and you turn to him with a small sheepish smile. “Do you wish to head to the library with me, my prince? I feel it has been an age since we had a conversation.”
It brings every part of him to answer normally. “I would love to my lady.” With a small smile. One that he doesn’t think he’s ever displayed to anyone else outside his family. He’s delighted that you also share a similar blush that’s painted across both of your cheeks.
Aemond wishes he could start a conversation with you. Though whenever he turns to you all he finds himself doing is turning straight back to the corridor looking straight ahead.
When he and you get to the library, he shyly holds the door open for you to go first. Delighted in the slight blush that appeared at his politeness. He notices how you seem to look around in awe and is delighted that you seem to hold the same love for books as you did as children.
“The library has expanded since the years you have been gone, my lady. I believe near a few hundred couple books were added since.” Aemond smirked. It was a strange get definitely not an unwelcome sight to see someone be as passionate about literature as he did. It easily became a bore when he had to handle people like his brother, who he doubted at this point of his life could even read at all…
“It’s still as beautiful as it looked the last time I saw it…” You whispered, looking at him in an awe. Aemond cannot help himself from wishfully thinking that you were saying that to him. That you’d whisper into his ear how you believe he’s beautiful even after all those years apart.
He’s soon knocked from those blissful thoughts when a pain hits his eye socket and he hisses lightly, gaining your attention. “Are you alright my prince?” You asked in concern, moving to be before him.
“It is alright my lady…” Aemond hisses. “It’s merely a side effect of my deformity…”
“Is there any way I could help?” Aemond could not help but look up at you to see if you were genuine, and by the way you anxiously held a hand to his shoulder and knelt down to him to get a look at his injury he felt like you were.
“I have a balm which the maesters found to help when the pain flared like this…” Aemond cannot help himself from confessing. It felt so strange and unnatural to be talking so freely about his ailment with another person. Though you weren’t just another person. It was you. “It should be in my left breech pocket. If you would be so kind as to grab it for me, my lady, I can apply it myself.”
Aemond attempts to hide the way he gulps when he feels your warm hands on his thighs, fumbling to find the small tube containing the balm. It probably would’ve been more effective if he had told you what the balm was in, though at that moment he cannot stop himself from indulging in your touch as you modestly fumble for it. Even when you do find the tube and remove your hands from him he finds himself missing that small warmth. “Thank you, my lady.” He murmurs, releasing his hold on his eye to unscrew the tube lid.
He’s about to apply it to his eye, when Aemond realises something vital about the process. He’d need to take off his eyepatch, and you’re still in the room watching him concerned. “I’m about to take my eyepatch and I don’t wish for you to be disgusted and feel like you need to watch this…” Aemond cannot bring himself to look at you, in fear you’ll look as disgusted at the mention of looking at him without his patch.
He’s brought out of his self pity though when he feels a sudden warmth on his cheek. Your hand. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cheeks suddenly flush at the realisation.
“I don’t care about your scar, my prince. I have seen far worse from my brothers in the training field.” You smile. The blush on his cheeks does not seem to want to leave, though by the matching colouring that appears on your own cheeks he’s glad.
“You do not need to continue calling me my prince, my lady. You can call me by my name.”
“Okay Aemond. Then I must then insist you call me by mine.”
“If you say so Daena. Though like I said, if you truly do not wish to see my ailment then I suggest you turn away now…” Aemond cannot help himself from near preening at the honour of saying your name out loud in your presence.
“And like I said to you Aemond, you strike no such thing as disgust nor fear in me. In fact, I think I’d dare say what it is you strike me with are the exact opposite.” You smile, not realising just how effective your words were affecting him. Maybe if he was braver, then he would’ve asked exactly what you meant by that. But he didn’t. Instead, Aemond removed his eyepatch and applied the balm to his eye, before covering the area once more and acting like the moment never happened.
Over the next few days, Aemond spent all he could with you, abandoning all his previous plans so he could see you and make you smile. It still brought a chill down his spine to hear you speak his name while you smile and place a delicate hand on his arm. This new pattern that Aemond has developed though is broken, when he heads to your usual spot to find you conversing with Aegon. Or more accurately, Aegon conversing with you while you looked uncomfortable. It only gets worse when Aegon spots him marching towards him.
“Ahh brother! I was just telling lady Lannister all about the pink dread!” Aegon smiled with a cup of some unknown substance. Aemond felt his heart stop in panic. He does not dare to look in your direction, in fear he will see pity within your sweet green eyes. Aemond does not even dare to utter a response to Aegon’s taunt, leaving with his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he feared if he wasn’t clutching his hands, he’d be clenching his fists and punching Aegon’s face till it was shining red with blood.
When Aemond arrives in the library, he attempts to distract himself from his horrid self-pity by rereading one of his favourite pieces of literature, Valyrian dragons and where to find them. A fantastic book playing on both fiction and non. He becomes so enamoured with the writing he does not hear the doors open and delicate footsteps coming towards him. It’s only until he hears a small cough he looks up only to meet your eyes.
“Hello Lady Lannister. What brings you here? Has my brother either bored you of my childhood sorrow or run out of stories to tell?” Aemond scoffs, returning to the page on Dreamfyre.
“I though I told you to call me by my name Aemond?” You said, not moving from your spot.
“Apologies Daena. Tell me, did you enjoy when my brother was telling you tales of how he humiliated me as a boy?” Aemond closes the book, marking the page with a random piece of paper before looking at you.
“No, I must confess I did not. If I am to put it plainly and honestly Aemond, I believe your brother to be an absolute pest and a prat.” Aemond let’s a scoff of laughter at your unladylike language, though it certainly is correct.
“I cannot agree more with you Daena. It’s a surprise my brother has even lived till now. I believe any day well here such sad news on Aegon dying in some brother or ale house. Maybe both if he’s lucky?” Aemond cannot describe the joy he’s feeling, nor can he begin to fathom just how much his heart is racing.
“I think I walked about not long after you did. It took everything in me to not strike him there and then. Especially after seeing how unhappy you seemed to become when he mentioned that pink dread.” Aemond once again looks away at the mention of that dreaded tale. He cannot bring himself to see the pity once more than used to fill so many eyes at the sight of him.
“Do you, do you feel disgust for me? Or even pity?” Aemond murmurs so quietly he didn’t even know if you had truly heard him until you knelt down to be level with him.
“Aemond, I feel a lot of things for you. None of them are anything of the sort that could be even compared to disgust or pity.” You smile again and Aemond feels like his heart will burst from his chest. If you requested it at that moment, Aemond would’ve ripped his heart out then and there and handed it to you on a plate made of pure Valyrian steel. It takes everything in him to swallow the lump in his throat and speak. “May I ask what these emotions you feel for me are? The ones that you claim cannot be compared to disgust, or pity…”
“The feelings I feel for you Aemond are ones that I do not think I am even allowed to tell you of…”
“I do not care,” Aemond now almost desperately grasps onto your hands within his own. He is so close to possibly hearing what he has wanted for more than six years. Your love. “I would kill any who dare to oppose you sweet Daena.”
“You are beginning to sound like your ancestor Maegor the cruel Aemond.”
“It is worth the title and the bloodshed if I am to hear what I hope to hear be uttered from your lips.”
“And what is it you wish uttered from my lips?”
“That you feel a fraction of the same way I feel for you…” Aemond can feel his heart beat from his chest. The library has gone silent. A notion he used to enjoy but now hates more than ever. “Please Daena. Tell me what it is you feel for me so I can no longer feel like my heart is beating straight out of my chest when I see you! So I can no longer think of you as I have been doing for the last six years you have been gone! So I can leave you and never bother you again with my unrequited devotion for you…”
Once again the library’s silence becomes overwhelming as Aemond stares at you in both hope and fear. Your face does not betray you, staring only blankly at the intertwined hands of yours and his.
“What I feel for you Aemond, I think in all the books we have both read and the stories we have shared amongst each other, can only be described as pure devotion to you and only you…” This is when your face reveals a sweet sweet smile that sends Aemonds own face into a blood red blush. “I too thought of you, nearly everyday since my departure. Of that sweet boy who listened to me while I rambled on about a topic he already know plenty of yet still craved for more. That sweet boy who insisted on walking me to my chambers even though he did not have to. That sweet boy, who has grown into such a handsome man, that I think my heart grew fonder the moment I saw you when I stepped from my carriage. I must say though, I was disappointed that you did not send any letters to me in all these years.” You seem to jest.
“I didn’t want you to think of me as an eager boy and a prat…” Aemond reveals with a slight blush, looking down at the ground. It only worsens when he feels you take a hand from his grip and place it on his left cheek to tilt his head up. “I could never think of you like that my sweet Aemond…” He feels his face grow to a deeper red as it spreads all over. He can even feel his ears burning. He stays content in your hold though, Aemond does not think he has ever felt safer in your grasp than he ever felt in his life.
“I do not know if you read those sorts of books, Aemond,” You begin to speak, drawing Aemond from his daze. “But when I was younger and read those old romantic books where the man got the girl he loved, he’d always kiss her…” You grin. Aemond reciprocates it fully, picking up on your definitely not so subtle suggestion.
“Are you suggesting sweet Daena I kiss an unmarried woman in this very room, where there is no one but us?”
“No no my darling,” Aemond can feel his heart go mad at the name you give him. “I am simply asking you to kiss the woman who loves you back with all her heart.”
“Then I guess I have to make my darling love happy then.” Aemond wastes no time in reaching forward to grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. He relishes in the giggles you make for a moment before colliding his lips with your own.
It’s an awkward moment at first, since the two of you have never done this before, but eventually Aemond finds a pace that suits him and you. He finds himself letting out a deep groan from his throat when he tastes your sweet lips for the first time, the taste of strawberries and cherries overcoming his senses. That groan is released once more when he feels your hand make a place for itself in his hair and holding him firmly, Aemonds own hands staying in a near iron grip on your waist.
It is a great shame when he is forced to pull away from you, though he does get the great view of your swollen lips, red cheeks and panting form. “I believe I should talk to your father so I can get his permission to marry you, my sweet girl.” Aemond speaks, a hand removing itself from your waist to go to your face and stroke your warm cheek fondly.
“You truly wish to marry me?” You whisper, making Aemond raise a brow in surprise. “Of course I do. I would not be kissing you and finally confessing my love for you if I didn’t. Besides, the servants will no doubt talk if they are to see us alone here together and I would not wish to besmirch your honour like that.”
“I think that supposed honour left the moment your lips kissed my own…” You smile.
“Mine left the moment you smiled at me when we were children. I’ve never cared for another woman since… Are you truly happy? That I am to hopefully marry you?” Aemond asks, that insecurity creeping back in.
“Of course I am happy, my sweet boy.” You stroke the edge of his scar with your thumb and for the first time Aemond does not immediately jerk away at the contact. For once, he does not feel so ugly. For once he feels wanted and loved. “I would have no one else but you in my arms to love and cherish.”
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alchely · 11 days
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My Top Gallavich fics
So, under the advice of the lovely @iangallagherisadeadman I've decided to compile a favorites Gallavich fic list along with a brief rec of each, this won't be a strict top 10 cause I'm not gonna torture myself into excluding some of these stories on some made-up self imposed arbitrary rules.
A bunch of disclaimers: most of these fics are long fics, going from 30k words up, I'm not purposefully excluding shorter fics, I have read plenty of them, but they do have a harder time sticking in my head months after reading.
Most of these fics will be explicit, just read the tags on the fic itself if you want to find out more.
Some of these fics don't have links because the authors chose to lock them and as such make them unlinkable, in order to read them you will need to go through the author's page while you're logged in your AO3 account.
This ended up ballooning out of control and is A LOT longer than ten fics, I apologize in advance :p.
YOU'LL NEVER SEE US AGAIN – spoonfulstar - 231k words
Mickey and Ian have been students at Marceline boarding school their whole lives, as their time at the institute draws toward the end they will start to discover many things, about themselves, about each other and about the world they live in.
THIS FIC! I CRIED! The number of fanfiction that are able to make me cry can be counted on a singular hand, the emotional stakes get higher and higher as the story goes on, leading to a beautiful and bittersweet climax.
This story will make you think and feel deeply about topics you'd never think a shameless fic would delve into.
I am obsessed with Mickey in this fic, he and Ian grow up in an environment that could not be more removed from South Side Chicago and yet his personality is still so recognizably and distinctly Mickey.
The story goes very dark at times, and the fic itself could be considered lengthy, but I assure you the author has made sure to not make you feel it. Those 200k words flowed so well the story did not feel long at all.
HELP ME (TEAR DOWN MY REASON) – wehangout - 34k words
Mickey is a detective and Ian becomes a suspect in an investigation except Mickey already knows him because he's his favorite dancer.
This fic falls under the umbrella of fics where “Mickey is so in love with Ian he does something unbelievably crazy”.
Oooh boy, this fic, it's written in second person (yes you've read that right), tbh out of all fics I've read from this author I think this one was the easiest to adjust mentally to the change in perspective.
I loved Mickey’s “love” in this, just… This raw connection to Ian, the perfect cocktail of feelings, I could read that all day long.
IN ANOTHER WORLD – Roryonic - 249k words
Mickey does not get sent to prison at the end of S5, what happens after and how his presence influences future events (mostly Ian, but also every other Gallagher as well as his own family).
As far as I'm concerned this fic is the closest to a perfect S6 and beyond fix-it. The dialogue writing in this story is so close to canon Shameless that I could picture entire scenes in my head with the actors playing the characters, with their body and personality quirks.
Sometimes I find myself describing this fic like it's the actual show's deleted scenes, “Look, Mickey has his own storyline! And Mandy is here! And the existence of Yevgeni does not become a plot hole!”
There are some Mickey lines in this fic that to me are as canon as if they'd been in the show. Absolutely iconic writing.
I love this author so here's a rec of some of their other longfics, however I highly suggest a lot of their other much shorter stuff as well:
BATTLESHIPS AND LOVE BOATS: Ian and Mickey start their “no strings attached” kind of sex relationship a little later than canon but their attraction and love is just as strong. This is a sort of High School AU that turns into a Prison AU that turns into something else and every shift is just as lovely as the next.
YOU SMELL LIKE LOVE: Ian and Mickey are childhood friends, to the point that the rest of the Gallaghers might as well consider Mickey a seventh brother, mmmh, I sure wonder how things will start to change. Look, I never thought I'd love a childhood friends AU for Gallavich yet here I am, if it's good it's good.
ME AND THE DEVIL: Mickey unconsciously calls for a vengeance demon and Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, because Mickey is a stubborn dumbass they fall in love instead. This story has a lot of twists and turns and the premise is only the very beginning of the story. I LOVED it!
THE INCREASINGLY POOR DECISIONS OF IAN GALLAGHER – Shamelessquestions - 309k words
Ian is a dancer in a club, he accidentally gets involved in the affair of a dangerous mafia don, but the true danger is the attraction he and the mafioso’s right hand Mickey feel for each other as soon as they meet.
What. A. Classic. Truly, an unforgettable story, and I don't mean this in hyperbole, I read this story around… 2016/2017 during my second round in the Shameless fandom, then I read countless other fics in a lot of other fandom and yet this story was the only one that my mind retained from back then, to the point that I could still remember some of the finer details as well as the final plot twists when I came back to reread it.
The plot is constructed beautifully and the original characters (part of the Shamelessquestions fanfiction universe, as they come back time and time again in every one of their AU to fulfill their role in the story) are just as vibrant.
What a story, truly.
Favorite original character in this AU: Sal, his downfall is so satisfying and yet so pitiful to read.
TEENAGERS SCARE THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME – Mellow_Yellow - 221k words
Ian finds something scary and calls Mickey for help, even though they had only reconnected that very day after two years of not seeing each other. Together, they get sucked into a situation they weren't at all prepared for. Can they even admit that they're in over their head?
The very beginning of this fic is SO cinematic it grabbed my interest from the very first scene and didn't let go until the end, DO NOT search for spoilers.
The only warning I'll give is that it does deal with a bit of gore and what I'm personally gonna define as slight psychological horror. That's it. Enjoy!
BROKE STRAIGHT BOYS – dancermk - 66k words
Mickey becomes a porn actor for a site where he has to pretend he's straight and not enjoying the copious amount of gay sex he's having on camera, enter Ian, another actor under the same agency and their off the chart physical chemistry.
This story has, needless to say, some really, really good smut. I especially loved their first time together, but every sex scene in this story is seared in my mind.
ETHERIZED AGAINST THE SKY – Snarfle - 213k words
So, I debated whether I should add this fic or not, but I think if there is one fic that will stay in my mind long after this Shameless binge of the past couple of months it's this one, and it should absolutely become one of those fic that everyone in the fandom should read.
After Mickey gets shot by Kash his life takes a completely different direction and he ends up in a group home where, through many difficult times, he turns his life around.
So many iconic moments in this fic, some funny as fuck, some sad, some so absurd that I'm surprised they weren't lifted straight from Shameless, one so gruesome in the very first chapter that I was surprised to have such a visceral feeling from just words on a screen. Yeah, this story will stay with me for a long time.
OLD RULES FOR NEW SIDE PIECES – Shamelessquestions - 217k words
Ian is a Fed and he spots Mickey looking suspicious in an art museum, the mutual attraction is overwhelming, Mickey is not what he seems and Ian is already with someone else, but that's not gonna stop him from pursuing what he and Mickey have.
Putting it as bluntly as I can, this fic made me face the realization that I love cheating fics (if the cheating happens to someone else to bring together the endgame couple). I have already reread this fic twice and I could probably go for another one and not get tired of it, it's that good, and out of all this author's fics it's probably my favorite.
Favorite original characters in this AU: It's a three way tie between Dre, Ivan and Carrie, they're all very captivating in this story.
Other fic from this author I'd recommend cause I really love their style:
LOST IN TRANSLATION: Ian meets a very attractive man while he's in Ukraine who doesn't speak English, a mere language barrier won't stop him from flirting for hours. (adorable)
YOU MAKE ME FEEL HUMAN – Dragona - 66k words
Ian is an assassin, he meets Mickey and thus begins a very sick love story.
To say I'm obsessed with this fic is an understatement, I suggest to everyone to just go read the original author’s own description of the fic, it sets the tone of the story magnificently.
This is an Ian Gallagher that almost resembles Jerome (also played by Cameron in Gotham) but like… a slightly more subdued and saner S1/S2 version of him. I love the layers that get peeled right in front of my eyes, the madness that creeps in a bit more every chapter. I LOVE this story.
DRIED INK - 87k words
This fic combines my two favorite Gallavich-specific tropes, one being ‘Mickey comes back from prison after s6, Ian is with someone else’ and ‘Ian cheats on that someone else for Mickey’
I love the Gallaghers in this and how unsurprised they are at Ian going back to Mickey right away. It's a little jewel of a fic.
Mickey tries SO hard to stop himself and Ian in this but their love is too magnetic, they're irresistible to each other.
THE QUESTION OF NORMAL – blue_newman - 92k words
Ian is a prison counselor, Mickey is in prison, they fall in love and it's beautiful and Ian is incredibly devoted to Mickey in this fic and I fell in love with them both in this.
KINDA RAW – catgrassplantdad - 6k
Quite simply this is my favorite short pwp fic.
Illustrating those “five times” in one night that Mickey references in 11x01.
This fic is so hot, I love it <3
QUATERVOIS – DodgerBear - 51k words
Soldier Mickey gets stationed in the middle of nowhere and meets a farmer called Ian who makes him question everything.
Falling under the same umbrella of “Mickey does something crazy for Ian” fics and this is why it stuck in my mind even if it's been a while since I've read it.
I LOVE this story, their dialogues and everything that happens in it. The setting is lovely and you will fall in love with the description of Ian’s farm.
Other fic by the same author that I also loved:
BURDEN OF PROOF: Cop Mickey gets caught in a legal battle between the two oldest Gallagher brothers, something doesn't feel right though…
THE WORDS HE DOESN'T SAY: Mickey is released before Ian in s10 and has to meet a court-mandated therapist. The story is from the therapist POV and goes AU from the beginning of s10 in that Mickey gets involved back into Yev and Svetlana’s life, the dialogue is, quite obviously, the main attraction of the story and it's really well done. (Also, written in first person).
THE MENAGERIE – CrossMyDNA - 147k words
Ian decides to re-explore his bdsm preferences at The Menagerie where he meets sub extraordinaire Mickey on his very first visit.
Shameless is undoubtedly the fandom that opened my eyes to what bdsm could be back in… approx 2016? When that other popular bdsm fic was still around *ahem*.
So it definitely feels like a sign that coming back into the fandom this fic now exists and is SO GOOD.
Obviously it's very explicit, the smut in this fic is one of the best I've ever read.
The chemistry between Ian and Mickey sizzles off the screen and can absolutely be felt even in moments not of the nsfw variety, absolutely recommended!
MICKEY MILKOVICH’S GUIDE TO FLIRTING – whatwouldmickeydo - 40k words
An s2 “missing moments” between Gallavich, completely canon compliant, all under the pretense that Mickey is following a step by step guide to flirting.
I wish this fic was describing canon moments, not kidding a single bit, I wish I could somehow magically manifest these scenes into existence they're that good and fit that well into canon.
M8TE – gallawitch - 53k words
Omegaverse fic where Ian and Mickey both start using an app and end up matching with each other, even though a connection is made almost instinctively, coming to terms with it with a sound mind will take a bit longer…
Hey,had to have at least one of these on here lol
I love omegaverse and this was everything I wanted from it, couldn't have asked for anything better really <3.
SHACKLED – MyRelapse - 19k words
Ian has a change of heart and he decides that Mickey IS the one he wants, even if he's still in prison, so he keeps in contact and goes through every hoop imaginable to have him back as soon as possible.
Reading this made me so happy like I could burst, love it.
WAITING ON MY OWN TOO LONG – Ride4812 - 266k words
This rec more than any other on this list is what I'm gonna consider self indulgent because it covers the trope I always craved to read in such a satisfying way: Canon AU where Mickey comes back from prison after 8 years, Ian has found someone else but the moment the two meet again they fall back into each other right away.
The series is made up of 4 smaller fics:
One more night
Something more this time
No more lonely nights
Ain't this life so sweet
(I will point out here and nowhere else that the last installment of this series has some segment that probably needed to be re-read a couple more times, but by that point I was too invested, and the quality fluctuates a lot only in certain parts)
The writing style is very direct and to the point, which I love, the smut is very present and written beautifully and most importantly never boring.
Ian is a MESS in this fic and had me Stressed™, mostly cause for some reason I can't handle too much casual depiction of drug abuse and addiction (I know, ironic considering the fandom).
Conflicts and resolutions are never clean cut, they don't necessarily resolve quickly or definitely or the way you probably imagine they should and I find this level of realism very satisfying.
Taking a bit of space here at the end to also rec a couple other Ride4812 fics that I also loved:
COUP DE FOUDRE - A model/photographer AU where Ian and Mickey fall in love the instant they meet and do some crazy things because of that.
HOPE HE MIGHT - A lawyer AU where Ian and Mickey are on opposing sides for the same client, an interesting murder mystery steeped in a religious cult.
Generally I feel like this author is really good at depicting just how unapproachable Mickey can be to anyone that isn't called Ian Gallagher and I eat it up every time.
WHAT THE NIGHT DOES TO THE DAY – andchaos - 9k words
A Gallavich childhood friends AU with a quite original arrangement for the story and the various segments of their lives. Very satisfying read.
RANSOM – BeckyHarvey29 - 112k words
Terry sends his sons to kidnap a Gallagher child to force Frank into paying back the money he owes, unfortunately for him Mickey and his brothers kidnap Ian, and a whole other kind of story unfolds.
Mickey and Ian falling in love in this fic is such a good read. I don't wanna spoil anything of how that or the kidnapping plot goes, since the two are so intertwined. Just know that it will be worth it.
UNDER LOCK AND KEY – Suzy_Queue - 106k words
Ian is assigned the night shift at his new job where he provides spare keys to his fellow college students stuck outside their dorm rooms. To make matters worse his shift coworker is the oh so infamous Mickey Milkovich.
I am magnetized by the way this author writes their pining for each other, their attraction and obsession, how it blooms and unfolds. This fic in particular had me develop a very bad case of tunnel vision, couldn't really turn away until I finished reading it all.
I still haven't read everything this author has to offer, but so far I also loved:
INHUMAN: A mysterious force starts attacking people close to Mickey and it all seems to lead to a mysterious redhead Mickey is oh so coincidentally obsessed with. Very cool paranormal story.
THESE FOOLISH GAMES: Mickey takes over as the boss of the local branch of a trampoline park, where Ian is one of the employees, they annoy each other to no end but what they don't know is that they're secretly texting each other.
IS THERE SOMEWHERE – andchaos - 48k words
Mickey is born with no words on his skin, convinced he's going to live a life of misery cause no one will ever say the words he's destined to hear, he's not a very happy guy. Here comes mute boy Ian who crashes into his life and won't let go.
A classic Soulmate AU, I love that like in a lot of other Gallavich fics their physical connection and compatibility usually comes before their emotional one, it is one aspect that I feel distinguishes their relationship to many other fandom’s ships.
LAST NIGHT AT THE VERONA GRAND HOTEL – the_rat_wins - 27k words
Mickey starts working at an ancient hotel who's supposedly haunted. Mickey doesn't believe in ghost stories, he is much more interested in this one guest he meets at night during his shift.
What a cinematic experience this fic is! Absolutely recommended, the length of it makes it so you can read it in the same time it would take to watch the same story in movie format.
Other fics by the same authors that have impressed me:
FADE THIS ONE TO BLACK: Ian dies of overdose in a pile of snow outside the club, when Mickey finds him there he vows to do anything to get him back.
I don't know why but this fic in particular gives off the vibes of being a pilot for a ya urban fantasy TV series, except we gotta imagine everything that comes after the first episode lol
NO LIE: Ian and Mickey are Soulmates and as such they can't lie to each other. This series is short and sweet and full of feelings, perfect
PARAGRAPHS – pink_ink - 100k words
Ian becomes a reading tutor for ex-convicts, Mickey is among them and Ian starts paying him more and more attention.
This is a story where they meet under very different circumstances and where they've lived slightly different lives compared to canon and yet they're still able to find each other in the end.
Also, sign me up for every fic where Ian has to work just as hard to help Mickey and care for him as the opposite, where Ian's brand of stubbornness is the only way to get through to Mickey.
I'm also adding a couple of ongoing fics, just two to not overwhelm too much.
NONE THE WISER – Loftec - ~218k words
Ian starts visiting Mickey’s diner, it takes a while and yet no time at all to warm up to each other.
I'm captivated by the author's writing style. I love Ian's and Mickey’s relationship. I love how they sort of take their time and yet pine helplessly for each other.
I'm obsessed with the fact that the whole point of the fic doesn't appear until two thirds of the way in cause the diner scenes were just too good to pass up on lol (and I 100% agree with them).
INTRO TO QUANTUM DATING – spoonfulstar - ~563k words
Canon Mickey and Ian meet in University. A college slice of life but drenched in the casual (and not so casual) darkness of canon shameless.
The dark humor in this is fenomenal and left me gasping laughing so many times.
Unexpectedly Ian in this fic is pursuing a linguistics oriented degree, which was what I studied when I tried university, the topics are explained in such an accurate way I have to assume the author studied them themselves and that this story is somewhat a reimagining of their own college experience because if not this would be an absurd amount of accurate research to make.
Reading this fic feels like living through the American college experience from the comfort of my home lol.
As I said before, this author's way of writing does not weight you down even with its length, the story flows perfectly from one scene to the next and before you realize it you've reached the end and you have to accept that 500k words weren't even enough.
Let's end this list with some quick recommendations
WHILE WE'RE MAKING OTHER (PEOPLE'S) PLANS - kyasticlikestea
Mickey is volunteered to organize someone's else's wedding after he managed to salvage his own so well, he'll do it, but his own Southside way.
THIS IS THE ROAD TO RUIN - bricoleur10
Ian and Mickey never go to rob Ned, the story unfolds differently from there. A fix-it with a lot of Gallavich longing , very good smut and some really good dialogue.
HEY, HONEY MINE (I WAS THERE ALL THE TIME) - serveteas
Mickey talks about his crush with Iggy and accidentally pronoun-slips. Short, to the point, funny af and I just really love it. Takes place after their fight at Kash’n Grab in s2.
AGAINST GLASS - AllThatMatters
Ian gets traded from one club to another as a dancer (and more) and ends up in the Milkovich family's club. This is a Mafia!Mickey story with some pretty tight sub-plots, I love his brothers in this.
ONE OF A KIND - fckyeahgallavich
Mickey breaks his finger and it has to be set in the hospital, chaos - of the homophobic kind - ensues. Protective!Ian, I wanna hug Mickey in this.
IAN THE FRIENDLY GHOST - Ravenheart
Ian is haunting an apartment and Mickey starts living in it, Ian is maybe starting to have a crush on him. This isn't angsty!
BLOOD IN, BLEED OUT - brewrosemilk, Whatsastory
Historical AU. Perfectly innocent bystander Ian Gallagher is thrown into the affairs of the Ukrainian Mafia back in 1954, his relationship with Mickey will span decades and he won't remain innocent for long, the mafia can corrupt anyone.
TEENAGE RUNAWAY - sadwhales
Ian comes to live and finish high school with his half siblings on the South Side, he's immediately captivated by a boy sitting under the bleachers, maybe his North Side naivety will catch his attention too.
GARDEN SONG - melwrtiesthings
A glimpse into their lives in their West Side apartment, a lot of initial angst due to a manic episode and then a lot of recovery and healing and learning more about themselves.
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