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amomentsescape · 5 months

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Hey I love yanderes and slashers and used to have a sleep walking problem where I would try to crawl through windows, can you do a yandere slasher x reader where the reader has developed Stockholm syndrome and been loving to the slasher so they trust them and let them have more freedom. Then they see them try to crawl out a window in their sleep? How would they react? Would they believe the reader? What would make them believe them if they didn't? If they didn't believe them the how would they react to finding out the reader told the truth?

Thank you so much! And merry Christmas! 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅

Slashers with Reader Who Sleepwalks & Tries to Leave

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, of course. Mentions of abusive behavior

A/N: Merry (late) Christmas! I hope you all had a great holiday! For this request, I decided to leave Eric out. He's just the complete opposite to a Yandere in my opinion, and it was nearly impossible for me to write him as such. I hope that's okay!

Freddy Krueger

He knows you would never purposefully leave him

Like, he actually knows

His (undead) life revolves around sleep

He knows when you're awake and where you're actually sleeping, even if he keeps you stuck in his dream world

So when he finds you trying to escape out of the little window he built for you, he just laughs

He had already known you sleep walked

He'd been haunting your dreams for weeks prior to actually taking you

Freddy just keeps watching you, not really doing anything about it

You're stuck in his world either way

Might as well see how far you'll go

He'll almost use this as a test of sorts

He'll let you wander to wherever you want to go in your sleep, and he may even change the environment to something you don't recognize

When you wake up, his name better be the first thing that falls from your lips

If it's not...

Well, he'll just have to try harder at getting you to need him

Michael Myers

It took a very long time for Michael to get to this point

The fact that he lets you sleep without chains is a huge decision on his part

He doesn't trust easily

And any feelings of trust he did have come crumbling down the moment he wakes up without you beside him

It didn't take long to find you

There you were, pushing and prodding at the boarded up window

He's truly pissed

And a little hurt

He really thought you were growing to actually like your situation

But when he spins you around and sees your eyes staring blankly through him, he tilts his head

You don't seem... right?

He'll shake you harshly until he sees the life come back to your eyes

When you finally look up at him with a similarly confused look on your face, he starts to realize

He understands you well enough to know when you're not acting like yourself

When he finally explains what you were doing after you repeatedly asked him, you sigh

You explain that sometimes at night, you wander around without realizing it

A sleepwalker, huh?

Sadly, the chains will need to come out again

Jason Voorhees

You wouldn't actually leave him, right?

You seemed so caring

He actually believed you when you said you needed him

But here you were, trying to leave your shared home in the middle of the night

He almost breaks down as he picks you up and takes you back to your room

He finds it a bit odd that you don't fight back at all, but he assumes you just don't care to

He locks you up and makes sure that you can't go anywhere

How could you do this to him?

When you wake up the next morning in chains and not in your shared bed, you begin to cry for Jason

He tries to ignore you, but he can't bring himself to hear your sad voice calling out to him

You try your best to tell him that you don't remember what happened, and that you would never leave him

And maybe he's too trusting, but he believes you

You just seem so sad and so genuine that it's impossible for him to think it's anything other than honesty

You couldn't be that stupid anyways

You'd get lost in those woods alone at night, he knows that

So he just has to believe you

He loves you, and love means trust, right?

Thomas Hewitt

But you were being so sweet to him just hours before

How could you lie to his face like that?

He wakes up without you in his arms, and he just about loses it

Frantically searches for you around the house and finally finds you at one of the nailed in windows

He pulls you away quickly, staring at you sadly

He's waiting for an explanation, but you don't say anything

You just stare

You weren't acting like yourself

He pushes you back towards the bedroom and you walk the rest of the way yourself, climbing back into bed with ease

He's confused, but decides to see if it will happen again

You can't leave anyways

The whole house is locked up, and you don't even know where the keys are

You act just like your normal self the next day

And that night, you're back to walking around with a blank stare

He figures this just might be a thing you do

Doesn't really try to stop you, but he does follow you most nights to make sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself

On nights he wants you in bed, he ties some old fabric around your ankle and holds you tight while you sleep

You might not ever know about your late night adventures unless he decides to tell you

Bubba Sawyer

He's quite literally blubbering to you

He's crying, he's frantic, he even shakes you a bit, and you just stand there not responding

He keeps waiting, and when you start to just wander around again, he loses it

What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?

He ties you back into bed and stays up the rest of the night, watching you

The next morning, he confronts you stressfully

You keep telling him over and over that you don't know what he's talking about

But he refuses to believe you

(He wants to believe you, he's just scared)

He only finally realizes you were being honest when in the middle of the day during your nap, he finds you wandering back to the window with his whole family watching you

You weren't stupid

Why would you try to leave when literally everyone could see you in broad daylight?

His family begins laughing and saying things like "looks like you got yourself a sleepwalker"

So you weren't purposefully trying to leave him?

He cries tears of joy and spends the next couple of days pampering you and giving you just about everything you want

He does his best to show you that he's sorry

Brahms Heelshire

It's quite literally known that Brahms has abandonment issues at this point

So when he catches you climbing up onto the window sill

He loses it

Will grab you and roughly pull you off, your body falling to the ground

This immediately wakes you up, your eyes searching around frantically

When you see Brahms standing above you, you try to reach for him, but he only shoves you away

You look so sad and confused at this, but Brahms is too stubborn to give in

He starts tying you up again each night, still very hurt that you would try to leave like that

It takes weeks for you to gain his trust again

And the one night he lets you sleep freely, he catches you by the window again

But instead of grabbing you immediately, he decides to just watch

He wants to see how far you'll go so he knows just how severe your punishment will need to be

But instead, you just give up on unlocking the window (it was jammed), and you just turn around and walk straight back to bed, not even registering Brahms being right there

This is odd

You need to explain the concept of sleepwalking to him the next day

He still remains skeptical for a while, but he'll come around

You just need to be extra attentive for a while...

Norman Bates

Norman already knows a lot about sleepwalking

(It's what he thought was going on for a while when he couldn't remember large chunks of time throughout the week)

When he finds you opening a window in the middle of the night, he bolts at you, ready to lock you back up in one of the motel rooms again

However, when you don't respond or reveal any emotion on your face, he immediately knows what's going on

He's surprised

He didn't know you'd be a sleepwalker

He decides to just lead you back to bed, knowing that waking you isn't the best idea

Sits you down the next morning and talks with you about it

When you seem very apologetic, he uses it to his advantage

Has you cuddle up with him even more than normal and stay by his side at all hours of the day

He still gives you some freedom

But he's always watching

He does take some precautions and ties your wrist up in the middle of the night

He has to, for your safety of course

Billy Loomis

To be honest, you don't make it very far

Billy has an iron grip on you at all times, and he's a light sleeper

The moment you get up, he's awake, observing you carefully

Sometimes you have to pee in the middle of the night, but he still makes sure you aren't lying to him

His ability to trust is practically in the ground

The moment you turn the wrong way, he's up and chasing after you

Were you that dumb? You knew he watched you every time you got up from bed

He grabs your wrist quickly and points a knife at your throat as a threat

He can't bring himself to actually hurt you though, not that you knew that

Or did you?

Because you just stand there not even moving away from the blade

Billy becomes very confused

He takes his hand and begins to wake it in front of your face, looking for some sort of reaction

You don't give him one

Are you still... asleep?

He shakes you a bit until you finally look at him, confusion written all over your face

You're a sleepwalker, aren't you?

He just rolls his eyes annoyed and drags you back to bed, not explaining anything

Just another thing he needs to look out for now

You sometimes wake up to bruises on your hips and waist from how hard Billy holds you in the night, but he's just trying to protect you, right?

He doesn't mean to hurt you, he just refuses to lose another person in his life

Stu Macher

Stu literally sleeps on you, so it's nearly impossible for you to leave the bed most nights

But if you somehow wiggle your way out, you wouldn't make it outside the house

The windows have been nailed so that they only open a small amount

When he finds you the next morning, curled up under a partially opened window, he just smiles

Call it naive, but he just assumes you were getting too warm in the bed

When you wake up in a confused state however, he becomes concerned

What do you mean you don't remember opening that window?

He honestly just becomes more worried that there's something wrong with your memory rather than you trying to leave him

He'll likely talk to Billy about it

He just hears laughter from the other end of the phone

"Sounds like they sleep walk," he'd say

Stu does a bunch of research on it later

He doesn't really mind though

All of the unsafe objects are already hidden away, and every possible exit is locked down

You aren't going anywhere

If anything, he finds it fun to wake up some mornings and look around for you

It's like a game, and Stu loves games

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neil-gaiman · 10 months

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This may very well get lost in the flood, but if you see this, I just wanted to say that there were a lot of things I thought I wanted for good omens 2 (a happy ending for one, of course!)

But my favourite thing that a writer can do to my experience of a story is to make me go "okay forget EVERYTHING I said before, this is the outcome I didn't know I needed." This show took my hopes and said "no u don't actually :) i got something better" and it had the audacity to be SO RIGHT.

The finale I *thought* I wanted would have probably had me giggling and kicking my feet and then moving on with my day while in a bright mood for a bit.

The finale I got had me absolutely devastated, inconsolable for maybe an hour, and then just...immediately rewatching. And talking about it behind a fortress of spoiler tags. And writing, and drawing, and being invested in theories and trying to find all the easter eggs and just...falling in love with the story and the characters all over again. And I can tell that feeling will stay with me for a whole lot longer than a couple days.

I'm bad at brevity, I apologize! This is just a very long-winded way to say thank you (and thank you to everyone else on the team) for giving us these idiots (affectionately) to have Way Too Many Feelings about!! Thank you for sharing them with us.

I'm running GO in the background, crossing my fingers and looking forward to a season 3—whether or not it'll be what I'm *hoping* for, I am just beyond excited for whatever story it is that you want to tell us, and I trust that whatever it is, it will be wonderfully told! 🩶🩶

(But also, please, for your consideration...I am in fact soft and innocent, I can only take so much damage before I cry myself to critical dehydration—do with that what you must, I shall leave my electrolyte balance in your hands and hope for mercy. You did say everything would be okay, and thankfully we all know a writer would never lie!)

I wouldn't lie about that, anyway.

#good omens #go2 spoilers

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yuuuhiii · 4 months

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I just want you ᡣ𐭩

includes : Megumi x reader , angst w fluff ending , 0.9k words , kisses

ai’s notes : I luv him sm :((( not proof read

You stomp your feet all the way into the lounging area where Nobara, Yuuji and your boyfriend were.

You could hear Nobara and Yuuji teasing Megumi and if it was any other day you’d be there to back him up, even though he didn’t really care for their words. But today wasn’t any other day, you were mad and you had a very valid reason to be.

All of their eyes are on you and Megumi softly smiles at you. It’s soon wiped off his face when you’re pulling him by the ear, Nobara and Yuuji on the verge of laughing but also amused.

“Ah!—What the hell are you doing—Y/n!”

You let him yell at you as you yank him down the hall and into an empty classroom, sliding the classroom door shut.

“What the hell is your problem!” He grabs at his ear, glaring at you, but his gaze immediately softens when he sees you on the verge of tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong.” His brows furrow. He moves to hold you but you step away, making his stomach drop.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

You’re trying to hold yourself together, biting your lip so it wouldn’t jitter. Megumi’s more than confused but he’s trying to rack his mind of every possibility, just something that he did that would have you upset this much.

“Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry.” He tries to reason and you look so broken, his heart is beating so fast but it wasn’t in the way he liked.

“Gojo-sensei told me about Mahoraga.” You glare at him and he stiffens.

Fuck.

Maybe he did lie to you about that technique, yes it was a ritual but he never told you that he had to sacrifice himself for it to work.

“You’ve tried to summon him at least five times for me!” You yell, your tears already falling, voice breaking.

He doesn’t know what to say and in a way he’s letting you break down, so you could let it all out.

“Why would you lie to me, especially about that.” You pout, sounding so desperate and hurt that it’s killing Megumi in the inside.

His mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water with no oxygen. You crush him with your arms, holding on to him as if he’d disappear at any second, sobbing in his chest.

“You can’t keep sacrificing yourself like this Megumi, Gojo-sensei said you had the potential to be the strongest.” You say and he finally replies.

“I don’t want to be the strongest.”

Even though it’s a smart ass reply he’s holding you close to him, scared that things will go south and you’ll leave him.

“That’s not the point! But you can get stronger. How are you supposed to get stronger if you’re constantly trying to kill yourself.”

That makes him bite his tongue because you were right.

“I don’t care if you want to get stronger or not, I care about you.” You whimper, your cries not ceasing. Megumi combs his hands through your hair.

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, I don’t want your soul, or your curse—”

“I’d never curse you.”

Your glare shuts him up.

“I want you. Like this, how I have you now, this is all I want.” You say so sincerely, holding his face in your hands.

“Alive, healthy and by my side. For as long as I can have you.”

His heart beat hasn’t slowed down, if anything it’s picked up, but now because your words have reduced him to a flushing mess. His ears and cheeks red, eyes softening.

“You’ll always have me.” He whispers, cradling your face now.

You don’t reply but you kiss him with so much passion, trying to gather up all the love you had for him and he kisses you the same way. The both of you afraid to lose each other.

Megumi couldn’t think of a world without you but he never stopped to think how you’d feel if he wasn’t in yours. Mostly because he’d do anything for you, even if that met giving up on his life for your wellbeing.

When you pull away you both are just as close, sharing each other’s breath.

“You have to promise me you won’t use it anymore, that you’ll get stronger so you don’t have to resort to that, or else I’ll leave you.”

Megumi’s hands squeeze around your waist at the last part, brows furrowing. You knew you’d never be able to but he didn’t need to know that. He rests his forehead on yours, squeezing his eyes.

“I wont use it.” He sighs.

“You promise?” You look up at him, making him melt.

“Promise.”

You lift up your pinky, and he shakes his head in amusement. Linking pinkies with you and touching your thumb, pecking it right after.

“You can’t break it, or I’ll have to cut off your pinky.” You pout and he chuckles.

“Yea I know.” He pecks your lips.

Smiling into his kiss, you lead up with a million pecks, causing his smile to rise as well.

“I love you ‘gumi.” You whisper, brushing your lips with his and he holds the small of your back.

“I love you too, so much.” He says as he nuzzles his face into your neck, placing a peck there as well.

At peace knowing that you were no longer mad at him.

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pikp0kcas3 · 3 months

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The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality

Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!

I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.

One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.

Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.

It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.

It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.

When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.

But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.

Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.

But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!

Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?

Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.

Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.

And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.

But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.

#aromantism #aromantic #aroace #asexual #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #lgbtqia #alastor aroace #PLEASE i just want people to LEAVE HIM ALONE #“but it’s a spectrum” STOP USING IT AS AN EXCUSE #RESPECT AROACE PEOPLE WITH ZERO INTEREST IN ROMACE AND SEX #let us have this #we barely get anything as it is #but just to clarify i don’t believe that most people are being intentionally rude about it #nor am i discouraging people from creating fan content because it is FAN CONTENT and you can express yourself #i just would like people to understand a little more that #yes it is a spectrum and it covers an extremely wide range of orientations #yes ANYONE who identities as someone on the spectrum is completely valid #if you wanna argue with that i am showing you the door and kicking your sorry aphobic ass out #my point is that the spectrum is not a loophole. it is not an excuse and it is NOT okay to just use it willy nilly for your convenience

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satoruxx · 6 months

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ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words

✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!

i. 2007

satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.

he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.

satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.

he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.

you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.

ii. 2007

(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.

a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.

"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.

"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."

you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"

he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.

you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)

iii. 2008

satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.

he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.

"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.

"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."

"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."

he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.

you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.

iv. 2007

(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.

nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.

shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."

when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.

then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.

satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.

shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)

v. 2008

it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.

he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.

every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.

you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.

"where's suguru?"

he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.

it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.

"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.

you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.

"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.

"what do you mean, gone?"

satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."

he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.

he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.

when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.

you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.

"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.

you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.

vi. 2007

(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.

you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.

"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.

"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.

satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.

"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."

he grins. "what? can't stay away?"

you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."

satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.

but you see right through him, like you always do.

"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."

"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.

"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."

fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.

"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.

you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."

he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"

the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.

he should've gone with you.)

vii. 2012

satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.

it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.

he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.

and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"

your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.

"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.

"nobody." he had answered.

he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.

"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"

"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."

you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"

"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.

"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.

satoru's mug shatters against the wall.

the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.

"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."

"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.

his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.

viii. 2006

(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.

even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.

he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.

"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."

shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"

"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."

your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.

the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.

and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)

ix. 2017

satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.

he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.

you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.

it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.

satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.

he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.

"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."

you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"

"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."

there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.

"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.

god he misses you so much.

he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.

"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"

his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.

he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.

you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.

he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.

when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.

satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.

he misses you so much.

x. 2007

(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.

he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.

well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.

maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.

that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.

there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.

they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.

it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.

"what are you doing?"

satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.

"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.

"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.

"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.

satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.

even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.

suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.

satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.

suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.

the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.

satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.

only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.

then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.

then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.

just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.

"don't want him to get lost."

xi. 2018

something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.

satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.

but something is wong. he needs to wake up.

the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.

you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.

you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?

you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.

you'll always haunt him.

you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.

for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.

he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.

he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.

your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.

his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.

"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.

"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.

no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.

no more haunting.

there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.

his eyes fall shut with a sigh.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

3K notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 3 months

Note

rosemary harry deserves to get his dick sucked! there! i said it!

wordcount: 6.4k+

—————

"'S okay, Rosie. We're almost inside."

Keeping his little cat tucked to his chest, Harry fumbled with the small peach tinted key on his ring. His still damp hair had begun to curl dry under the crisp morning air, his kitten surely feeling the same chill. Finally pushing open the door and stepping over the threshold, Harry did his best to stay as quiet as possible since (Y/N) was no doubt sleeping through her morning off.

Placing Rosemary on the ground, she tottered right past him and into the kitchen where (Y/N) had set up a small station of food and water for her since she visited so often. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched her tail flick behind her, lagging behind as he locked the front door. Kicking off his shoes under her foyer table, he hiked his duffle full of extra clothes higher up his shoulder before moving out of the small alcove housing her front door.

He intended to head straight for (Y/N)'s bedroom, eager to curl up with her and spend a quiet morning at her side after his long night, though he stopped in his tracks as he passed by what he had thought would be an empty living room.

Curled up on the plush green suede of her couch, (Y/N) was bundled in a knitted white blanket with tired eyes and a mug of something warm in her hands.

"Hi," she smiled at him, features lighting up some as she took him in.

"Hi, peach," he crooned, dropping his bag on her foyer table before stepping towards her with a pout on his lips, "I told y'not to wake up early for me—'s your day off."

"I know," she smiled, unperturbed by his gentle scolding, "But I wanted to see you—and Rosie. I also wanted to have breakfast with you, so."

Harry's shoulders dropped, the tense set to his bones settling as he listened to her. He could never be upset with her, not even for a second—especially not for something he would do for her. He missed her very much over the night, so he couldn't say he was very disappointed in getting to see her smiling face this early.

"We'll take a nap after we're done eating, then," he decided, nodding his head as if to set the plans in stone, "Thank you, peach."

Stretching from her spot on the couch, she left the blanket a puddle on the couch with her mug still warming her hands. "Of course," she smiled at him, "I have everything already in the kitchen, so we can just eat then lay down."

As much as he loved cooking with her, the idea of having warm food ready for him had his chest warming. He'd do the dishes today, he decided, his small thank you to her.

Taking her hand in his, Harry followed after his peach into her small kitchen. Still sitting at her mat, Rosemary was cleaning her small bowl of food as if she were starved (and she wasn't. Harry had even given her a scoop of her favorite wet food while he showered, so she shouldn't be this hungry).

"Hi, cutie," (Y/N) cooed to the cat, dropping to a crouch beside her while Harry went ahead without her.

Already doled out and portioned was their simple breakfast of fluffy eggs and hashbrowns with plenty of cheese atop them. Peeking at the sink to see a couple of pans and utensils sitting inside the basin, Harry decided he would let her get to sleep then he would be taking care of that for her.

"Everything looks alright?" (Y/N) asked, standing to the full of her height with Rosie circling her feet with a twitching tail.

"Looks really good, love," Harry commended, an easy smile touching his lips, dimples dotting his cheeks.

Harry led the charge this time, heading towards her living room where he intended to cuddle up with her and share warmth under her blanket. Rosemary had followed them out, picking her own spot on a folded blanket on (Y/N)'s armchair she chose every time over the plush bed by the television. Settling on the cushions, Harry draped the knitted blanket around his and (Y/N)'s shoulders as she sunk into his side.

"How was work?" she asked, taking the first bite of her cheesy eggs.

"It was alright. Long," he sighed, exhausted just thinking about the hours he spent at the grocery store. He had been thinking about switching to days since everything settled down, but he didn't like the idea of leaving behind the overnight crew he was beginning to grow comfortable with. Plus, he still wasn't that big a fan of strangers, so he wasn't too into the idea of being surrounded by them all shift long. "'M thinking about picking up one of Theo's shifts next week."

(Y/N)'s lips slanted into a precursory frown. "If you don't want to, you don't have to, H. You've been working a lot, lately."

He shrugged, picking up a bite of his hashbrowns. "I know, but I want to save as much as I can before I move. The apartment I was looking at, the rent went up another hundred per month again."

A beat of silence settled between them for a moment. "You know," (Y/N) started, the tone of her voice familiar enough that Harry knew exactly where she was going, "You don't have to find a new place if you don't want to—you can just come here, instead. It's not like we haven't pretty much lived together already."

Peeking up at her, he caught (Y/N)'s theatrical smile, big and bright on her features as her own form of small persuasion. She always gave him that look when she brought up this subject.

"I know," he said, the same thing he always started with, "Let me think about it, peach."

A part of him wanted to see if he could cut it by himself without using the methods he was used to, but, as (Y/N) had reminded him once, he'd done this whole thing by himself for a very long time—and his shortcuts often made things harder on himself than he cared to admit. He didn't have to be alone anymore, he had her.

(There was also a whole thing he was still fighting off, the feeling of being a burden on her and taking things that shouldn't be given. That was also something he was trying to work on, even if a bit fruitlessly).

"What did y'do this morning while y'waited?" Harry asked, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Swallowing down a bite of her breakfast, (Y/N) shrugged. "I started some laundry, but I was too tired to fold everything so I just made breakfast and then sat down. I had the weirdest dreams last night, though."

"Yeah?" Harry smiled, looking at her with raised brows, "What were they?"

With that, (Y/N) launched into a vivid description of her latest dreamscape. Harry listened intently to every turn her story took, forgetting about his food at points in favor of listening to what she had to say. It wasn't necessarily the nonsensical dream that had him so entertained, it was the way she told it. He still reveled in learning her mannerisms, the gestures that made her who she was. There was always something new he could glean just by listening to her.

Before long, empty plates sat before them and the knitted blanket draped over their shoulders had morphed into a cocoon. Harry curled (Y/N) into his lap, draping her legs over his thighs with his arm wrapped around her back to keep her tucked into his side. She talked to him about the shift she'd had the night before and the book she had finally ordered, and any little thing Harry could get out of her. (Y/N) didn't mind doing the talking, more than happy to have him be her listener, though he was still learning that it was okay to have a listener, too.

The sun was beginning to paint the sky a warm orange over the horizon by the time (Y/N) settled into Harry's chest, her head on his shoulder. The blanket was warm around their forms, reflecting heat back. Harry had it tucked up high under (Y/N)'s chin, allowing her to melt back into the sleep-sodden state he'd found her in.

A companionable silence settled over them, leaving Harry's own eyes to shutter in contentment. Huddled under the fleecey blanket, sharing warmth with her, he allowed his hands to wander over her pliant form.

His hand on her back made spanning circles over the planes, the pads of his fingers skimming the bumps of her spine and cradle of her ribs. She was still awake, that much he could tell, but her breathing was an even pace he could feel both under his hand and the puffs against his shoulder. Skating over her form, his hand landed on the curve of her waist, reuniting with the familiar softness with denting fingertips.

Without meaning to, his subtle squeeze had (Y/N) jumping in his lap, a huff of laughter pluming from her lips.

"Sorry," Harry murmured, dropping an apologetic kiss to the top of her head.

(Y/N) snuggled closer in response, his mistake forgiven. Leaving his hand still on her waist, he instead focused on the span of thigh under his left hand.

He had previously pressed his palm into her hip when she had swung her legs into his lap, though now he grazed his touch over the plush of her thigh. Despite the chill in the air and the handful of times she complained about the cold while snuggling into bed, she still couldn't seem to ditch her sleep shorts, leaving a length of her bare skin on display. He worked a soothing circuit over the skin, the blunt of his nails dragging along here and there as he felt goosebumps prickle over the surface.

She keened into his touch, pressing her body that much closer to his own. The soft contours that made up her form reflected against the hard angles of his own, sharing their warmth under the knitted blanket. All night he had missed this.

The last time he had seen her was two mornings ago, just before she had left for her shift at the bakery. It was a quick goodbye, Harry blinking awake just enough to catch her lips in a quick kiss before she was telling him she'd see him later and that she loved him. He didn't sleep much after that, barely dozing in and out of restless dreams before he deigned himself into properly waking and heading home to ready for his own shift. He had missed her, missed the warmth of her touch, the caress of her voice, the wisp of her presence.

To have her now was both exhilarating and relieving. He wanted to stay awake so he didn't miss a single second with her, even if it meant only watching her sleep. But seeing her so relaxed and feeling her melt against him comforted him into his own contented state, as if tonight would be the night he would float away on his own pleasant dreams.

Harry kept running his hands over her body, soothing himself with the plush of her skin and the line of her form. Maybe it was the feel of her warmth, the safety under the quilt with her, or even the feel of the huffs of her breath against his neck, but before he even realized, he felt a stirring in his lap. Under the pillows of her thighs, his cock was much more awake than the rest of him, suddenly piquing to attention with her as his target.

Folding his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry attempted to shift under her in hopes of concealing the stray effect her presence was having on him (truly, he couldn't be too surprised. He'd gone years without any kind of physical relationship with anyone other than himself, and now he felt like a teenager again, aching every time he caught a whiff of her attention). He was sure her cuddling was not something she expected to entice him, especially given how close she was to edging on falling asleep in his arms.

In an attempt to keep himself in check, he stilled his wandering hands, keeping them stationary on the outside of her knee and the safety of her waist. He would hate for her to think he was taking advantage of their position when this was supposed to be a tender morning together after she went out of her way to welcome him home.

Shifting his hips, he tried to gently remove his lower half from the warm body without disturbing her, or landing in an awkward position.

"Where are you going?" (Y/N) grumbled when his movement didn't stop, her arms clinging to his neck.

Harry figured he might be more intoxicated than he thought when just the glaze of her voice was enough to have the muscles in his thighs tensing. His mind immediately went to a different place, remembering all of the breathless words he'd heard wrapped in that voice and the many he still wanted to hear.

"Nowhere, jus'—" he strained, finding a less than comfortable position with his tailbone low on the cushion and his back stretched long, "getting comfortable."

"Oh," she sounded, waking some as she peeked her head up, "I can move if you need me to."

Before Harry had a chance to stop her, tightening his hold on her, she was shifting herself on his lap following the way he was sprawling out. Soon enough, he could feel the plush of her thighs brushing against the familiar hardness in his lap, something that had her stopping in her own movement for a breath.

He loosened his hold on her then, allowing her space if she wanted off of him. "Peach," he started after a beat, sighing out the pet name.

Popping out of her hiding place against his neck, (Y/N) looked to him with still sleepy eyes though they were definitely brighter than he would have guessed given how close to sleep she had been.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Blinking, Harry matched her eye contact. She looked to him with a pair of pinched brows and a clear gaze, no hesitancy behind her perplexing question.

That was not the kind of reaction he had thought he would garner. Extra information was not one of the routes he saw this conversation needing.

"I—" he started, cutting himself off a syllable later, "We... We're cuddling, peach. I didn't want to ruin the morning. You're too tired, anyway."

As she listened, Harry got a view of the soft smile that took over her features, lighting up the sleepy corners of her eyes.

"I'm not too tired for you," she crooned, her voice quiet for just the two of them. Dipping her head down, (Y/N) pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, the tip of her nose skimming his cheek. "You worked hard last night—you deserve something nice."

A heavy blink weighed down his eyelids as he lent into her kiss, cock stirring in his lap. Was he always this easy to get turned on? Or was it just (Y/N) who knew how to push all of his buttons so perfectly?

Dropping his head back against the backing couch cushion, Harry allowed (Y/N) to shower him in her kisses, his mouth in a soft gape. He could feel her gentle smile with every planted kiss against his skin, touching down his neck and over his cheeks and nose. Every bit of his skin she could reach was warmed with her kiss.

One of her hands on his shoulder drifted down, grazing over the blocks of muscle that made up his chest and abdomen, she trailed down until she hit his lap and the bulge that rested between his thighs. His lungs stunted at the soft pressure she applied.

"(Y/N)," he started, voice strained as he blinked his eyes open to match hers, "Y'really don't have to. I know you're tired."

Canting her head, she chanced a glance down towards his lap before she floated her hand away to sit on the middle of his abdomen. "I'm okay, though," she reminded him, looking more awake every time she insisted, "But, if you're too tired, we can go to my room and cuddle instead."

Folding his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry scanned his eyes over her features. There was no way he was going to turn her down in favor of sleeping, especially if she was offering so earnestly.

"'M awake, if you are," he murmured, matching her eyes with his own intensity.

Her smile was too cute, Harry decided, for a moment like this—negotiating over sex. "I think I'm a little too tired for everything, but I've been wanting to do something else for you if it's alright."

Harry's head swirled with whatever this something else was that she had in mind. "Whatever y'want to do, peach. I'll take anything y'want to give me."

(Y/N) dropped a short kiss on his lips, looking a bit too excited before she began slipping down his body with a chirped Good! falling from her lips.

Instinctively, Harry wanted to curl his fingers around her body, keep her where she was against his chest, where she was keeping him warm. Still, he refrained, allowing her to coast down his form until she was settled on the floor between his legs, her knees tucked underneath her with the blanket draped around her shoulders (sneaky thing took the blanket with her before he even had a chance to notice).

His heart thumping in his chest, Harry took in the sight of her on her knees before him. Her eyes suddenly appeared wider, lashes fuller, cheeks warmer. He's never seen her like this before, never had the privilege of having her knelt before him though he had a muscle-squeezing idea of where this may be going.

Spreading his thighs that much more, (Y/N) shuffled between them until she was fit against the edge of the couch with his knees on either side of her. Reaching out, he passed a hand through her hair.

"You're so pretty, peach. You know that?" he murmured, affection dripping from his tender words.

She turned bashful under his praise, resting her head on the inside of his thigh as she gazed up at him. "Thank you," she told him through a small smile, "Is it okay if I try this? I know we've never really talked about it, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately."

Attempting to not get sidetracked over the idea of (Y/N) thinking about having his cock in her mouth—a lot, too—, he kept his focus on the way she looked up at him. A lopsided smile quirked up the corner of his lip.

"You think I would ever say no to that, peach? Or you, for that matter?"

A plume of laughter fell from her lips. From how close she was, with her head pillowed against his leg, Harry could feel that puff against his sweats. He wondered if she felt the way his muscles squeezed under her cheek.

"Just wanted to check, that's all," she prattled, lifting her head from his thigh with her hands reaching towards the waist of his sweats.

With Harry's help lifting his hips, she was able to hook her fingers in the band of his sweats and briefs, pulling the pair down until they rested on the mid of his thighs and his cock had bobbed against his stomach. A shiver tickled his spine now that he was exposed to the chilly air of her home, though he doubted that was the same reason as to why goosebumps touched his skin.

When (Y/N) took him into her hand a moment later, her eyes trained on his ruddy, leaking cock while his own eyes fought against a fluttery blink, Harry's breath hitched. The hand that had been gently petting back her hair turned a hair firmer, reaching to gather the strands on the back of her neck.

"I wish you had told me earlier you were feeling like this," she spoke without lifting her eyes from her hand, "I would have helped you instead of almost falling asleep."

He wasn't even sure if she was intending to be as sexy as she sounded then, his breath stuttering at the feel of her hand pumping around his length with her voice swirling around him.

"'M sorry, love," he sighed, "Thought y'would be too tired."

She shrugged as if this was nothing, Harry having to bite back a smile as he watched on. "I don't mind. I'd rather suck you off than go to sleep, honestly."

At that, there was no way he could pull back the shuddering moan that tumbled from his mouth. A string of precum pearled at his tip only to be wiped away by (Y/N) as she collected it to help slick her strokes.

Nails grazing her scalp, he tipped his head as he watched his love admire his cock the way he admired her. "You're so good to me, peach. 'M so lucky, you know?"

A brilliant smile on her face, she glanced up at him with a frame of fluttering lashes around her eyes. "You deserve it, honey."

There was something else he was going to say, most likely another praise about how perfect she was for no other reason than he loved her and she had his prick in her hand, but that all went down the drain as soon as she lent forward and pressed her lips to the crown. Her lips were warm and soft, slick with the precum gathering on his tip.

It was the way she fluttered her eyes closed, her lips puckered and sweet, looking just the way she did when she kissed him, that had him almost melting into the cushions. She was kissing on his cock the way she did his lips—with affection and something all too soft for an act like this.

He could only watch breathlessly as she held his shaft in a snug fist, tipping her chin and tilting her head with every smeared kiss along his head. If this was already making his stomach jump and lungs squeeze, he feared to think just how long he'd last once she gave him more than a few kisses.

With hooded eyes, (Y/N) blinked up at him just before he felt the tip of her tongue gliding out from between her lips. The fan of her breath rolled across his sensitive skin, chilling the newly slicked path from her tongue had his blood pounding through his veins. His hand gripping her hair pulsed, subconsciously keeping her right where she was.

"Fuck," he breathed, feeling a flush creep up his chest and along the column of his throat.

Though he felt her hand pulse around his length, she didn't let him distract her. Instead, the swift licks she gave graduated to long laves when she shifted to drag the flat of her tongue along the underside of his cock. A sheen of spit covered her lips and sparkled on her chin with every lick as Harry's breathing labored above her.

His eyes followed her every move with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as she began pumping her fist across his now slick length once more before she pursed her lips against his tip. His chest constricted when he saw a string of saliva drop from her lips, sliding down the ridge of his tip, though his breath was cut off when she took him into her mouth.

With her hand still working his shaft, she sucked on his head. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive ridge, Harry's hips bucking against her mouth without permission.

"S-Sorry," he breathed out when he saw her rear back.

"It's okay—just wasn't ready," she murmured through a thick throat. Drawing her eyes away from where her hand was pumping over his length in the absence of her mouth, she told him, "You can—um—do it again, if you want. I'll be expecting it now, so."

There was a part of him that wanted to fawn over her nervous delivery; how sweet could she be with the taste of him on her tongue and kisses warming his cock? It was hardly fair to feel a flutter in his chest when he was already hard over her.

The rest of him, though, was definitively stuck on the fact that she had invited him to lift his hips into her face. She hadn't been ready before, but she was now and didn't have a single qualm about him pressing into her mouth the same way he sunk into her pussy.

His hand in her hair traveled through the strands until he landed on the back of her neck, his palm becoming a cuff pressed against the nape.

"You're alright with that, love?" he pressed, his hand clenching when she gave a particularly tight drag of her hand over his length. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she assured him, "I trust you."

He wanted to say more but there was nothing left for him to choke out when she dipped her head down and took him back into her mouth. Her lips were split wide around his tip as she inched more of him down before stopping with a short gag. When she found her stopping point, she dragged her tongue around the underside, outlining the strong vein that roped around his length. She bobbed her head some, taking his tip to the back of her throat in a teasing squeeze over and over. Whatever she couldn't reach was taken care of by her hand, her fingers tight around his girth.

"Jes—fuck—Peach," he choked out, his hand on the back of her neck a heavy weight as he watched his wet dream play out in front of him.

She kept her focus on her task, ignoring his calling of her pet name, with her free hand coming to rest on his thigh. The blunt of her nails pressed into the flesh, becoming points of clarity against the rushing in his ears.

Her earlier suggestion rang in his head. She had shown him her limits—just how far she was able to take him down before she would need to rear back and breathe, and the pacing that felt comfortable for her.

He could be careful. He could take care of her, and give himself what he wanted. Give himself what he had dreamt of more than once in the middle of the night.

With her so close to him, it wasn't hard to solidify his grip on the back of her neck. She paused when she felt the weight, curling her mouth around his leaking tip. All it took was a watery glance up at him through her lashes when Harry allowed a moment of his inhibitions to drift.

Keeping her steady over his lap, he pushed his hips upwards, his cock sinking into her mouth in one fluid motion. The channel of her throat tightened as he pulled her head to meet him halfway, telling him when to stop before she would gag around him. The silky warmth had him shuddering in his spot, his free hand now fisting the throw pillow at his side.

"Shit, (Y/N)," he panted, his mouth in an open gape as he watched her sink over him. Her hand on his thigh was warm and piercing.

Rearing back, Harry found a rhythm as he thrusted his hips forward into her mouth once more. Her tongue skated around his length with her hand clumsily pumping where he didn't dare to push her. With her lips stretched around him, her saliva began to drop down his cock, landing in the thatch of hair at his base. The band of his low sweatpants shifted against his balls, an unexpected jolt hitting his stomach every time he pulled away from her mouth.

A stream of moans, grumbling whines, and calls of her name permeated her living room. Through the cracks in her curtains, sunlight spilled into (Y/N)'s home, rays catching the blanket huddled form that was her sitting between his legs. Stray hairs haloing her head were highlighted by the sunlight, plating them in gold through his rose-colored lenses.

With the way he was fucking into her throat, rearing his hips back once he hit the seal only to sink his length inside once more, it felt entirely out of place to feel especially sentimental gazing down at her. Maybe it was the long night of work, the buttery morning, or the fact that this was the first time he'd been sucked off in years, but had he ever been more in love?

If the slick of her mouth and writhing of her tongue wasn't enough, when a delicate moan slipped out of her throat and vibrated around his prick, Harry could feel the spiral hiding behind his abs tighten into something unbearable.

"Fuck—I'm—You're," he stammered, the pacing of his hips beginning to falter with a pinch appearing between his brows and his throat growing thick, "'M gonna cum, peach—shit."

The peek he saw of her eyes through her lashes was one he wouldn't forget. There was a wet sheen to her gaze from the amount of times he prodded at her boundaries, pushing the tip of his cock just that much further into her throat. Her lips were slicked with spit, the very corner of her mouth sporting a pearly dot of his precum, with her skin warm on the back of her neck. His hips stuttered thinking about the fact that he had been the one to get her like that this morning.

Her hand pumped the remainder of his length quickened, the fist tight. She stroked over him in tandem with the pacing of his hips, meeting him halfway. His breaths were nothing more than uneven puffs falling from strained lungs.

"C-Can I cum in your mouth, peach?" he panted, the words rushing out before he had any real thought behind them, "Or do y'want me to st—"

Before he had a chance to finish she let out a delicate moan, her lips tight around the stretch of his girth. Her choice was clear, seeing as she didn't stop him from pushing through her pursed lips or drawing away against the weight of his hand.

Though it felt a bit pathetic, just how easy he was, that was somehow all he needed before he felt the first surge of release. His hips stuttered, (Y/N)'s own hand struggling in her pacing when the first rope hit the back of her throat. He felt his muscles tense, his abdomen hard and his thigh bunched tight under her hand. His mouth was in a gape as he fought to keep his eyes open with every pulse of his cock leaking more cum into the back of her throat.

He wanted to watch as he came into her mouth, he wanted to see her face. His hand on the back of her neck loosened as he felt into the moment. He swore there was a haze that drifted through her home at that moment. There was nothing but static touching his skin—and (Y/N).

By the time the cloudy haze and the electricity faded, Harry's muscles unclenched as he sank back into the couch. (Y/N)'s mouth was still warm around his cock, though her grip had fallen away in the fray. His eyelids felt heavy as he gazed at her, luxuriated in the feel of her cleaning him up as the final ropes fell from his tip.

When it all became too much, Harry feeling too sensitive for any more, he used that grip on the back of her neck to draw her away from him. She went pliantly wherever he wanted her, disconnecting from his cock with a soft pop and a lingering string of saliva that evenly bowed and broke to land on her chin.

Harry's hand on her neck shifted to trail through her hair, a decidedly gentler touch than what he was sure he was giving her in the heat of the moment. He pet back the errant strands, displaying her face for him in the rising sunshine. Once again, he couldn't be sure if it was the way the light fell on her face, the soft set of her features, or the fact he had just orgasmed harder than he knew could happen before eight a.m., but he'd never seen anything so pretty.

Her eyes glimmered with stray tears, her skin warm and dewy with sweat. Her lips were swollen and slick, her hair a little bit of a mess thanks to him. If he wasn't already spent, growing limp, he would have had to take her again if for no other reason than to show her just how beautiful he thought she was.

"C'mere, peach," he murmured, his voice sunken in his throat, "Let me kiss you."

Though she didn't waste any time crawling back into his lap, (Y/N) took a moment to pull his pants back up his thighs and tuck his sensitive cock away before she was straddling his hips. Opening his arms, (Y/N) fell into his chest with her own arms looping around his neck.

It was an affection hug he pulled her into first, his face burrowing into her neck with his nose skimming her hairline. He pulled in her scent in a thick inhale, pulsing his arms around her. The blanket she had stolen in the first place was now draped around their snuggled position once more, layering around them as if there was any more privacy to be had in the middle of her empty house.

She was the first to begin drawing away, but Harry caught her lips before she had a chance to utter anything through her perfect, perfect, perfect mouth (maybe he hadn't come down completely, just yet). He pressed a soft kiss to her top lip before he took it between his two, getting a taste of her lips when he parted his own. He didn't mind that he could still taste the traces of himself, too caught up in the fact that she wanted that taste of him in the first place. The pads of his fingers pressed into the small of her back, keeping her cuddled to his chest as he tilted his head and tipped his chin this way and that.

"I love you," he breathed against her mouth, parting just far enough away for the words to slip through.

A gentle laugh dripped from her lips coloring his own though he didn't interrupt his kissing. "I can't imagine why you'd be saying that right now, after what just happened."

He knew she was teasing, attempting to play with him some after their intimacy, but he didn't have it in him to go along. "I mean it," he insisted, sounding a touch more desperate than he meant to let on, "I love you so much. Everything about you."

Pulling far enough away to rest her forehead on his, Harry was forced to blink his eyes open and keep himself from following after her kiss. Her gaze was soft, a fond depth swimming in her irises.

"Harry," she started, the pillows of her lips grazing against his own, "I love you, too. Don't sound so sad."

"'M not sad," he answered in a rush, "'M happy—so happy. You're so perfect, and 'm so lucky, and I love you."

That fondness in her eyes landed on her lips, stretching them into a soft smile that Harry wanted to get a full view of but didn't want to draw any further away to see. "I love you, too," she declared, granting mercy on him and tipping her chin to press a single kiss to his waiting mouth, "You're perfect, and I'm the lucky one."

There was the immediate instinct to argue with her, remind her of who he was before her, but he refrained. It was something he was working on—accepting her love and kind words—, and he didn't want to ruin the moment by denying her feelings for him.

"Thank you," he answered simply, giving a loving kiss to the full of her lips as a way to seal his.

(Y/N) reciprocated with a press of her own, surely aware of what was going on in his head. Pulling away from him, she began crawling out of his lap despite the hold he had around her middle. "You're welcome," she smiled, a hint of pride in the corners, "I think—if you're not too awake now—that we should nap for the rest of the morning. In my room, too, so we can actually cuddle."

Scanning over her features now, he could still see that sleep tinge to her face; a slight crease to her eyes and the sloping of her shoulders. She had been the one half asleep in the first place, and she ended up being the one that did the most work in the end—she deserved to sleep her morning away.

Plus, he still needed to do her dishes while she slept. Especially after what she just did for him.

"That sounds really nice, peach," he settled on, allowing her a glimpse at his dimples when he gazed up at her.

Muttering a quiet, chittering C'mon, then, Harry gave her his hand to drag him back to her bedroom. The throw blanket she had claimed for herself trailed behind her as he followed. The smile on his face had no plans of slipping away as he watched her pad towards her bedroom, socked feet and her blanket covered body too cute for her own good.

A quiet pattering sounded behind him. Harry felt his chest plummet towards his stomach before he even chanced a look over his shoulder.

Reluctantly, he turned his head just to see Rosemary following after them on her quiet feet. Her tail flicked high in the air, her ears at attention as she looked up at him with her moon eyes.

God, he really hoped she hadn't just seen what happened.

—————

anon ur right he does deserve this!!! thank u for requesting!!! thank u to everyone for reading and so sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas of your own please send them in!

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writella · 6 months

Text

The Confession

Synopsis: Confessions shared with the wrong person gone so sinfully right.

Details: rick grimes x reader, afab!reader, smut—masturbation, unprotected sex, riding, both rick and reader being desperate in the dark. I made the exact reason for the confession and occasion very vague. 18+, wc: 2.6k. Proof read, but there might be some errors.

A/N: Not sure how much I like this one, but I had this idea back in early October and I wanted to finish it and give you guys something after a whole month.

I miss you, I’m sorry. Hope you’re all well!! With love from writella. ♡

Your voice is solemn and heavy as you sigh before starting, “I don’t do this very often,” you say, “I hope this is okay.” Your eyes lowering shamefully as you stop. It’s only the first sentence and you’re finding it hard to continue. It’s almost as if there are needles piercing into your throat. “I just feel so embarrassed,” you admit.

Then you pause.

No response from him comes after.

Only silence fills the dark and hallow space of the wooden confession box. Only your thoughts, every creak you made on the built-in bench, and the light wind that rustled from the cracked door were heard.

You wait a second longer.

Hoping.

But still, nothing.

Part of you was suspecting that Gabriel would have been more inviting, telling you it’s okay; and doing so with his kind and gentle voice, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t doing anything it seemed. You only saw the silhouette of his face when you walked inside— the outline of a nose and mouth, really. He seemed to be sitting as far from the small barred window as he could, but you didn’t dare look again. You didn’t even turn on the light fixture in the corner. Your fear was all too big, and his unwavering quietness made it worse.

Maybe you had come at the wrong time, maybe you interrupted him. You almost wanted to ask. But maybe confessions happened in complete silence… you didn’t know anymore, but at this point, you were hoping so. You had already wasted five minutes and managed only one sentence. Perhaps he heard the fear in your voice and was just trying to be a good listener… yes, maybe, you pretend as you urged yourself to start again:

You breathe in sharply, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The words come out in an uneasy, hushed whisper. “It happens a lot and I know it’s wrong. And you’re probably going to look at me differently after this, but I have to tell someone so I can stop.”

Your eyes screw shut, the next phrase coming out jumbled and continuous as you try to explain yourself quickly: “I’ve journaled about it and told myself it’s wrong but it’s not helping.” You start to weep, almost laughing at yourself, “I feel so stupid.”

You sigh and you almost think you hear him do so too, but you keep going.

“I’ve been thinking about someone,” you finally say. “For a long time. And I know it’s bad, I know it, but I do it anyway. It's all I think about.”

Another pause.

You catch your breath.

You wait.

But nothing.

So, you start again.

“I think I love him sometimes.” And if you couldn’t get any more timid, your cheeks flush, and your voice grows quieter, “I like his hair, and his eyes, those button-downs he always wears…” you smile at yourself, these were silly things, “Even his beard.”

And then you hear him shuffle, and a light sound is emitted.

It startles you, but silence ensues again thereafter. Maybe you imagined it.

“I like his kindness too. People would usually say strong or giving, but that’s what I like to tell him— that he’s kind. I think he’s kinder than other people give him credit for. He’s just protective. Everyone, and especially himself, we put a lot of pressure on him to make the hard decisions, but, really…” and there it is, “that's not the only way I think about him. There are things–” your throat tightens again– “ things that I think about. And things that I do.” Your eyes screw tight as you force yourself to say it, “I touch myself.”

Another bout of silence comes before the question.

One you’d never suspect.

“Can you describe it?” The voice asks, dark and curious.

The cool spring air of the night turns cold, but it adds no relief to the summer heat that burns in your heart as it begins to beat painfully. The texture in his voice, the inflection at the end that lined the sentence as a request, it rings through one ear and out the other and back again in a cycle.

You knew who it was.

“What?” You shriek so lightly as if playing dumb would help you now. He knew who you were talking about, you made it so desperately obvious.

“Can you,” he repeats steadily, “describe it?”

“I… shouldn’t.”

“What other better time could there be?” You can’t tell if he truly means it. His voice remains firm and lets out no hints of his true intentions, but despite doubt, you start anyway. He’s right after all, you’re in here because there hasn’t been a better time.

“I- I start by touching up my thighs, trailing up slowly… I always get so nervous… I never do it fast because I know I shouldn’t do it while thinking about you- about him,” you correct yourself, squeezing your thighs together, your hands gripping the bench tightly.

“But you do it anyway.”

“I do,” you reply meekly.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“I can't.”

“What happens when you finally reach all the way up?”

“Gotta touch myself.”

He puts his hands on his knees, making sure his voice stays leveled. “Where do you start?”

“Rubbing my clit.”

“Do it.”

And then you do. You truly can’t help it. Your fingers slide down your hips to the front of your heat, chilly fingers pressing up against your lips over your underwear.

He hears the little sigh as you finally allow your finger to reach your clit in between.

“How does it feel?”

“My fingers are cold right now, so,” a quick breathy laugh leaves you, “ good, really good.” You rub your fingers in slow circles, but your hand and hips jerk, forcing you to speed up, but you try, try to not seem so pathetic to yourself as if there was any attempt at going back now.

His voice’s a slight strain as he asks, “And what do you think about?” He starts to rub his thighs, feeling his cock stir to the side of his jeans, making the material feel tighter than it truly was. His fingers trail closer, knuckles brushing against his erection. He’s pretending like he can stop himself too. “What does he do in your head, sweetheart?”

“He watches,” you say as your movements speed up again. You really can’t help it now, his voice edges you on. Your hand goes under the band of your underwear, fingers collecting wetness below to bring up to your clit, “He’s standing at the edge of the bed,” you tell him, “he’s unbuttoning his shirt, and then he starts taking off his belt… He’s smiling.”

If only you knew that hearing how bad you wanted him was making him do the same thing on the other side.

You’re panting now, one foot comes up to the bench as you slide yourself over to press your back into the corner of the wall, your head tilting back as well, using the assistance to grind into your hand. “He thinks I’m pretty.”

“That's cause are.” He’s lowered his pants now and takes his cock out from under his boxers. Your words make his mouth gape and his eyes close as he begins to stroke himself. “You really are.”

His smile fades as he bites down on his lip lightly. You’re so needy for him and so desperate to admit it. It makes him feel powerful. Almost God-like, despite you both starring as the other’s tempter. So sweet and sinful the sounds you’re making are. How could he not give in? How could he not make you wet for him even at church and stroke his cock as it happens? You’re making it so easy with every whine and little moan you try to withhold. He could hear you getting restless, but he wants to make you want it more, “Keep goin’,” he tells you. “What’s happening now?”

“I put two fingers in,” you whine, “not big enough. Never enough.”

You let your two fingers stay inside you as you press your palm down on your pussy, rubbing your clit with the underside of your hand. You stop for a moment to take off your pants and underwear entirely, discarding it on the floor before you return to your spot. You put one leg up on the bench as you continue to finger yourself.

“I want him so bad.”

“How bad, sweetheart? What would you let him do?”

“Anything, Rick.” You say it louder than you intend, you’re losing yourself. “Anything for him.”

“Anything?”

“Everything.”

After that only nonsense comes out, simple sounds of desire and pleads. It was becoming too much to talk.

Rick felt the same. His hand on his shaft made quick and short movements, his lips parted and pink, more red on the bottom than the top from when bit his lip again at the words anything and everything for him. He repeated it in his mind, listening to your sweet little whines in the present. His head tilts so far back that it bangs on the wooden wall and he hisses.

It reminds him to compose himself.

Even after you let out another moan of his name, and he swears he could almost hear just how wet you are now, the squish of your fingers going in and out, louder and louder.

He swallows hard and takes a breath before he says, “What if I say I want you in here right now?”

That’s when your movements completely stop. You can hear the wind swirling again. You were speechless.

He turns to the netted window. You two can’t see each other but you know he’s looking. “C’mere.” He says slowly. “Now.”

And after that, your body takes control. Swift and instantaneous you move from your door to his, shutting it hard. You don’t even take a moment to look at him, it was too dark anyway, and that’s not what mattered. You’ve already dreamed of his curls, and the pierce of his blue eyes. You knew what he looked like. It’s time to know how he felt.

Rick takes off his shoes and fully lowers and discards his pants. Before he could even consider his shirt, you’re on top of him. You’re kissing his face, your lips and tongue missing his lips by just a little, but it doesn’t matter.

You begin to rock, your wet pussy making the length of his cock and thigh slick before it's even inside of you. You couldn’t help yourself and it makes him laugh, all cocky and proud. Something that you’d cross your arms to, even quip back at in any other situation but right now, it’s so fucking hot.

His hands latch onto your hips, his legs slide back to hit the wall. He raises your frame and you grab him. Your sticky fingers lace around his dick and then you both lower yourself down onto him.

You try to bottom out fast, but his nails dig into you, slowing you down. Your face reaches back with a pout and a whine as he says, “Wait,” even after he’s inside of you.

Your pussy quakes around him. You’re both trying to hold it together, but he’s faring much better than you.

His hand holds your jaw, thumbs caressing your cheeks and a tear falls from your eye, all the sensations becoming too much.

His eyes trail the sight as it rolls down and he tells you, “You’re right. I do think you’re beautiful.”

And he kisses you. Tongue slipping past your lips just as quickly as they depart, going to whisper in your ear: “Go on now,” he smiles, “show me everything.”

You begin to rock against him instantly. Initiating the kiss this time, your tongue slips into his mouth but his goes on top of yours. He grabs the back of your neck, deepening it, and you continue to take charge below as you ride him.

You squeeze around his cock tightly with every movement forward and you hear a strangled groan come out of him as his dick twitches at the sensation.

It makes you moan so loudly, you could wake somebody up.

But it doesn't matter.

You could even come right now just from feeling him inside you for the first time.

And it doesn’t matter.

“I've wanted you for so long, Rick!” You tell him.

He’s all that matters.

“You’ve got me.” He tells you breathlessly, kissing down your neck with his hand tugging on your hair. “You always could’ve.”

Now you know you’re all that matters too.

Your head tilts to the side, eyes closed, and mouth open for each pretty sigh and slight hiss that come out as he bites and kisses.

His hands lower to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it off. You start to undo the buttons on his too.

It’s fast and rushed and messy, but now your chests can meet. You press into him. Your hips are rocking hard. Your clit meets his pelvic bone making you whine and moan again. “Really good,” you say.

Rick’s hands slide to grab your ass, helping you go faster until they rise to your hips again. His thumbs press into the crevice of your hips and legs and he starts to bounce you on him.

You grip onto his arms, assisting him in his efforts. Your eyes are still closed, you’re smiling— already in a state of bliss, yet relishing in the fact that he was pushing you further and further into the dream-like feeling that was to come: your orgasm was close, and the string of airy moans made it evident to you both.

The way his hands move to caress your waist, trail up your back, roll over your arms, and back down again feels like gliding on ice. You felt him everywhere.

“Come on,” he tells you.

“I'm trying, I want to.”

“I know,” he affirms. He takes hold of your upper arms, letting his hands slide down to yours that tightly gripped his biceps and placed them on his shoulders.

You bounce yourself down on him harder, switching it up to rock on him and give your clit attention, then repeat it again.

Once you’re back to bouncing Rick takes one hand on your hip, helping you go faster while the other rubs your clit as vigorously as he can.

Your mouth is open wide, pants and squirms, and pleads coming out wildly. You almost feel like you’re making the whole box jump along with you as you bounce, and bounce, and bounce, and then… there it is: you shout his name and he speaks back to you, you both come together and ride out your high.

A glow emits as you smile, your head crashing into his as you catch your breath.

Then a noise erupts.

The church door closes.

Steps become louder and louder until they reach the open confession box door.

Rick puts his finger to your lips, silently quieting you both. Your eyes are owl wide knowing what the person in the next section would find in there. You almost squirm but Rick slots his finger into your mouth to stop it. “Quiet,” he mouths as the person next to you drops the wet garments they just touched, almost running out of the place as fast as they could.

You lower your face to his shoulder. Embarrassed, you sigh, “What are we gonna do now?”

Rick is unfazed: “Well,” he starts, picking you up by the hips, securing your legs as you wrap them around him, “we could do this one more time.”

He locks the church door and then walks you down the aisle and onto the podium, placing you gently on the ground. He’s standing above you. Just like it all your daydreams.

It was his turn now.

#rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes fic #rick grimes x fem!reader #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x you #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #twd smut #twd fanfiction #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x y/n smut #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x afab!reader

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cutielando · 7 days

Text

puppy ~ charles leclerc

requested by anon: Hi lovely, can I please request something with Charles adopting a puppy with his girlfriend, I just can't get over how cute leo is 😭🫶🏻

a/n: so sorry it took me so long!!

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

You loved your boyfriend.

Charles loved you.

You were living the life that people could only dream of living. Living with him in Monaco in a shared apartment, you traveled all around the world with him, you had a flexible job. You had everything you could ever want.

Then why did it feel like something was missing?

As you looked around your apartment, the place felt empty.

You got that feeling every time Charles would leave for a race and you wouldn’t be able to join him.

Everything was silent, so peaceful. You loved it most of the time, being a nice change from your otherwise very hectic lifestyle, but it would sometimes become suffocating, being there by yourself.

Which is what you would tell Charles whenever he would call and you would be feeling down.

He had been away for Japan this time, your university classes holding you back in Monaco for the time being. He had called you as soon as he was done with the race, instantly feeling your sadness on the other end of the phone.

“Mon chérie, I can tell you’re not okay” he said, imagining you pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Amour, I’ve told you, I’m okay. Uni is just kicking my ass and my boss is being a jerk more than usual” you said, forcing out a chuckle.

Technically, you weren’t lying. Uni always got more stressful than usual as the summer break was approaching, and it was sometimes hard balancing it out with your job, but that wasn’t the reason behind your sour mood.

You had had time to reflect on your dilemma and had finally come to a conclusion.

You guys needed a puppy.

“Mon ange, you know I don’t like it when you try to lie to me. What’s going on?” he pressed, wanting to make you feel better by any means necessary, even if he was halfway across the world at the moment.

You sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so it was resting on the couch.

Maybe you should have waited to tell him in person, but you figured that he would have more time to reflect on it until he got home.

“We need a puppy” you blurted out.

It was silent on his end for a few seconds. You immediately regretted saying it, your brain started to malfunction.

That was until you heard his sweet laugh through the phone, making your nerves slightly less consuming.

“You scared me so much, amour. Is that what your moping around has been about? Adopting a puppy?” his laughter had now died down, his tone being replaced with a gentle one.

“I just - it feels like there is something missing. We’re happy, we have a very spacious apartment for just the two of us and I get really lonely when I can’t join you for races” you explained, now pacing around the living room as you made your case to your boyfriend over the phone.

Charles listened to your rambling with a smile on his face. He knew how much you loved pets, especially dogs. You had grown up in a house full of them, going crazy over every dog you would bump into on the street.

He loved watching you interact with them, seeing you care for them even if they weren’t your own.

Which is why he had been planning to surprise you with your very own puppy once he got back from Japan.

Joris had taken care of everything, lying to you every time you would get suspicious or whenever he felt like he was about to be discovered.

But luckily for him, you did not suspect a thing.

“Mon ange, why didn’t you say something sooner? You know I would love nothing more than to adopt a puppy with you and grow our family” he said, already mentally coming up with the best plan to surprise you when he got home.

You sighed, realizing that you had been worrying for nothing. You knew Charles loved pets, and you had always talked about adopting one in the future, so why had you been so nervous to bring it up with your boyfriend?

Nobody knew, really.

“How about we talk some more when you get home? I don’t think this is a conversation to have on the phone” you chuckled, not wanting to delve into the topic too deep.

He agreed, wishing you a good night before he hung up.

But, despite what he had told you, he didn’t go to sleep. No, there were more important matters to be handled. Like figuring out a way to surprise you with your new puppy without getting detected.

He thought it over and over again, and the only answer that he came up with was picking up the dog on his way home from the airport from Joris. He figured there was no need to complicate things, you didn’t like complicated stuff.

The next day, you had woken up to a text from Charles telling you his plane would land in a few minutes time and that there was no need for you to pick him up from the airport as Joris had agreed to give him a lift.

You didn’t think anything of it, Charles always having made it clear you would never have to drive him anywhere, you were his passenger princess.

Figuring he would be hungry when he got back, you got started on a simple but filling breakfast, Charles’ favorite breakfast that you made when he would get back from good race weekends. You put on some music and started cooking, not even noticing the time passing by quickly.

You were in your own little world when you heard the front door open and close, calling out your boyfriend’s name.

“Charles? I’m in the kitchen” you called out into the hallway, returning to flipping the last of your pancakes before turning off the stove.

Charles didn’t say anything, afraid not to disturb the small puppy nestled in his arms and prompt it to start barking. He had discarded his luggage by the door, now only holding the little dog and slowly walking over to the kitchen.

He could have sworn that your reaction to seeing the puppy was priceless and forever imprinted into his brain. The way your eyes lit up and filled with tears upon seeing him was nothing like he had ever seen before.

“You did not” you said, too shocked to even move from your spot.

“I did. I’ve been secretly arranging some things in order to adopt this little guy. We were supposed to get him in a couple of weeks, but when you told me yesterday that you wanted a puppy, I figured I would speed things up a little bit” he explained, walking over to you.

You cooed once he got close enough, gently taking the puppy from him and nuzzling his little body to your chest. There were no words to describe how you felt holding your new dog, the amount of love you already felt for such a little human being.

The little dachshund puppy looked up at you, its deep brown eyes already having you wrapped around his little finger. You nuzzled your nose with his, internally screaming because of how cute he was.

“What’s his name?” you asked, not even looking away from the little guy.

Charles chuckled, knowing your reaction was exactly what he had been expecting from you. Already doting on the little dog nestled in your arms, like you had had him forever.

“Leo. Leo Leclerc” he answered, watching your eyes light up even more.

“Leo” you whispered, looking down at the newest addition to your little family. “Welcome to the Leclerc family, Leo”

You spent another minute or two gazing at the dog, Charles not moving an inch from his spot as he admired you interacting with the dachshund. He knew, in those moments as he watched you interacting with the dog, that you were the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with.

“I’ve never loved you as much as I love you in this moment” you told him, shuffling closer to him and stretching your neck so you can press a lingering kiss on his lips.

“I love you too”

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p0ckykiss · 7 months

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baby i'm yours - choi yeonjun

summary - yeonjun can't think of not being by your side and you wouldn't have it any other way.

genre - fluff, falling in love, friends to lovers, sharing a room, yeonjun is whipped

"you've been clingy lately. is there something going on that i don't know about?"

yeonjun opts to shake his head, never once letting go of you who's currently squished under the heavy weight of yeonjun's body. yeonjun was left feeling the need to barge into his best friend's room and quite literally tackle you in bed. looking back at it, he figures it's due to the fact that you haven't spent as much time as before, both of you busy with individual schedules and when you did have your free time, you would either be fast asleep or on lenghty calls with your family.

yeonjun isn't upset over that.

this is one of the rare occasions, he thinks. finally getting you alone, all to himself. he missed this.

"you're lucky i already showered." your giggle makes yeonjun shuffle even closer, wrapping his arms around your warm body.

"i would've cuddled you in the shower, too. absolutely no problem."

"i have no doubts about that."

it's been proven to be a real challenge to stay away from you, even for a few minutes. he doesn't like to think of himself as a baby that needs constant attention but it may very well be the case with you and your calming presence. practically glued to your side, he closes his eyes and preens at the way his freshly washed hair is being carded through, long and gentle fingers massaging his scalp from time to time. his whole body goes limp, melting against you when your other hand lays on his broad back and works the stiffness out of his muscles. you lay like that for a while in silence, save for yeonjun's content sighs and your words of appraisal.

"i'm starting to think that you missed me real good."

yeonjun nuzzles his face further in your neck, pulling a breathy laugh from you beneath him at the ticklish movement.

"of course I did." he murmurs against your skin, voice low and affectionate. "didn't you miss me, too, ynie?" one of his hands moves from your waist and slides under your shirt, drawing circles on your skin with his finger. your chuckles turn to full blown laughter and yeonjun's heart soars.

"hey! stop that, it tickles!"

still wriggling and laughing, you try to push yeonjun off the bed. it proves to be a real challenge when he sprawls his body entirely over yours and knocks the breath out of your lungs.

"not until you say it too. do you know how hurt I am? unrequited feelings are no joke, y/n." he fake cries and you slap his back playfully.

"i missed you too, dumbass."

"now can you please move before you kill me?"

yeonjun does as told and settles back beside you, satisfied with himself as your warmth envelopes him again.

"i really mean it, yeonjun. i missed you a lot."

yeonjun can hear the smile in your voice and his heart does a somersault. he knows this feeling all too well.

"i know."

-----

----

"that's not fair! i've been playing this game for months, struggling and wasting all my nights to get this far! what about you? you just waltzed in here and swooped every critical fighter like the sly predatory bird you are!"

"how is that my fault? It's about being lucky, and clearly, luck hasn't been on your side but mine!"

"i'm about to swing this controller at you, beomgyu! don't try me, you know I'd do it."

"oh yeah? do it then."

woken up from the commotion downstairs, you sigh heavily and make your way towards the living room, immediately welcomed by two arguing boys. beomgyu and soobin, having another quarell over video games, while the rest of your roommates watch with either amusement or exasperation. your eyes scan the area until they eventually seize yeonjun's figure in the kitchen, having a glass of water. on your way to the kitchen you pass by an exhausted taehyun who pats your shoulder and moves to break the two rascals apart. you can only laugh at his poor attempts to get beomgyu off soobin's back.

pulling your gaze away from the guys, you return to staring at the object of your affection. yeonjun seems to be spacing out again, that hilarious blank expression making you shake your head in amusement. his hair sticks out in all directions and the urge to run your fingers through it is strong enough to make you do just that. approaching him silently as to not spook him, you settle behind him and caress his soft hair, making him look at least a bit presentable. yeonjun leans against you by instinct and nuzzles his head in the soft hoodie of his best friend.

"morning, sleepyhead. spacing out again?"

yeonjun sets the empty glass on the counter and turns around to circle his arms around your middle. almost falling off his chair, yeonjun looks extremely comical and you move just a bit forward to accomodate him.

"morning.." he mumbles. "the roommates woke me up."

"yeah, me too. was hoping on sleeping in for at least a few more hours."

"well, plans ruined."

"we can do something else today though. what do you say about shopping?"

the simple offer has yeonjun bouncing on his feet and all ready to go despite it being only morning. the excitement is infectious, you can feel it seep through your skin and gradually, a fond smile takes over your features.

"i'm suddenly not sleepy anymore. let's have breakfast and go."

"ramen?"

"ramen."

------

"how about this one?"

yeonjun points at a somewhat simple yet fancy silver bracelet that has an infinity symbol carved on it in the color black. he thinks it looks nice enough to show it to you so he beckons you over with a smile.

you've been shopping for clothes for approximately two hours, scanning rows and rows of clothes ranging from casual to something more expensive. both of your wardrobes needed a refresh and so it wasn't a problem of spending too much or buying too many articles. you both share a common interest for fashion, things went smoothly but there's something missing. accessories. matching ones at that.

you peek over your shoulder with great interest, eyes practically glowing at the sight of the stylish bracelet and matching necklace.

"it's cool and all but.." you snicker. "look at the price tag, yeonjun. it's crazy."

"do you like it?"

you start twirling your hair, something you do when you're embarrassed. "i mean, yeah, who wouldn't? it's totally my style. but we can't waste so much money on this. we'll go broke in no time." you laugh, pat yeonjun's shoulder and move towards the exit of the shop, seemingly ready to return to your shared apartment.

yeonjun can't possibly go home without buying the matching set and so he approaches the cashier.

"uhm, hello. may i purchase these?"

the lady looks up at him with a knowing smile. "is it a present for the person who's waiting outside?"

he can feel his face heat up at the implication of her words. "something like that. y/n really likes the bracelet."

"is that so? i happened to hear your conversation earlier." she leans closer to whisper. "we don't normally do this thing but i can make an exception for you two and sell these to you at a lower price."

"are you sure? i wouldn't want you to get in trouble-"

"it's no problem."

she's still all smiles and sunshine as she wraps up the accessories and gives them to yeonjun. he tucks them safely in his bag and thanks her a million times before finally leaving the shop and joining you. you look up at him dubiously, eyeing the bags in his hands.

"what took you so long?"

"i was..looking around some more."

"really?"

you start walking back home and the nervousness of carrying your present is enough to make his legs go limp. what will be your reaction upon seeing that he bought the matching set after all? you couldn't possibly be mad, right? he sure hopes so.

"yeah, really."

-----

freshly out of the shower, yeonjun lays in the comfort of his bed and fiddles with the bag that shelters what he just bought for you. you are still showering, he can hear the water running and the groovy tune of a song that he's been listening to lately. your voice sounds a bit muffled yet yeonjun can discern a few words here and there and the more he listens, the more his nerves subside and he finds himself spacing out a second time that day. surely nothing can go wrong, he tells himself. he'll confidently reveal the gift, place the bracelet around your wrist then wear his own necklace and call it a day.

you've always talked about wearing something memorable for the both of you and this is the perfect time for it.

he doesn't know how much time has passed but it must've been a while because in front of him stand you, hair already dry, skin flushed from the steam in the shower, comfortable sweatpants and a loose shirt already on. with a quick shake of his head, yeonjun smiles at the confused look you give him.

"seriously, what's up with you? you've been spacing out again." you point out, seemingly amused. "and why are you gripping that bag?"

"close your eyes?"

"what did you do this time, yeonjun?"

"please just close them. you'll find out."

as soon as you do as told, his hands fumble with the fancy bag and pull out the small box that holds both the bracelet and necklace, a sappy smile already on his face. he's buzzing with excitement at the prospect of him and you growing even closer.

"it's been two minutes. can I open them already?" your right leg is shaking, anxiety bubbling beneath your skin.

"oh, sorry. open them."

you take a while to adjust to whatever you're seeing in yeonjun's hand. you see the small, sophisticated box along with what's in it and you freeze. the bracelet you just saw at the shop earlier today. and a matching necklace. your palms start to sweat and your heartbeat picks up speed at the gesture. silly yeonjun can't resist buying things that you like, no matter what anyone else says. you should've known better. yeonjun is incredibily stubborn when he wants to be. you look up at him and searches his eyes, all full of adoration, pride and excitement. your heart swells, barely concealing the smile that only seems to grow wider when yeonjun fiddles with his fingers and waits for a reaction.

"you said you liked it and i..bought it. even though you said i shouldn't. i couldn't help it. if you don't want it i can return it-"

"you're a real piece of work, you know that?" you let out a breathy laugh and shuffle closer to yeonjun's flushed face, scanning each and every detail of it, engraving it in your mind. no one else has ever gone to such lenghts to make you happy. "you never listen to me, do you?"

yeonjun gulps when your fingers caress the side of his face, falls into a deep trance the more he looks into your eyes.

"i wanted to make you happy." he murmurs, closing his eyes as soon as your lips touch his forehead.

"i am happy just being here with you. material things don't have the same effect you have on me, you know? sure, they do look nice, but they could never replace you." he lets himself be pulled into your arms. "i can appreciate the meaning behind your gift though. never took you for the romantic type."

yeonjun chuckles and traces a finger across your wrist. the bracelet is carefully being clasped around it and it suits you so well that he mentally pats himself on the back.

"i can be anything you want, y/n."

your heartbeat picks up speed at the implication, hands shaking as you place the silver necklace around yeonjun's neck. pretty, you think.

"anything? are you sure?" a teasing lilt accompanies your voice. you push forward, testing the waters between you. yeonjun doesn't step back.

"when have I ever been unsure?"

"what if I want you to be my boyfriend?"

yeonjun's breath stutters in his chest, alarms ringing in his head as he pulls just slightly away to come face to face with your pretty face. though unexpected, he's not entirely surprised. the tension has always been there somewhere around you. a bit too close to be just best friends, ever since the beginning.

"i'd gladly be."

your lips form a teasing smile, all inviting and soft. yeonjun glances down then back up, a silent hint. you take it, of course you do. shuffling even closer, yeonjun is once again reminded of how enamored he is, of how much he'd do for you.

"is that so? prove it."

yeonjun does just that. he immediately closes the small gap between you and seizes your lips in a searing kiss, stealing all your breath away. your hands find each other, intertwining and holding tight, lips chasing each other with the fervor of feelings being hidden all these years. intoxicating, yeonjun quickly realizes. you use the advantage of your better position to push even closer to yeonjun, running fingers through his hair as your lips part and gasps for air fill the silence in the room. neither of you move an inch away, simply staring in each other's eyes, bracelet and necklace somewhat glowing under the soft lights.

"so? are you mine yet?" yeonjun's teeth comes into view with how wide he's smiling and you are forced to squash the urge to hug him so tight that your bodies morph into one.

thinking back on it, you figure you've always been each other's. a silent agreement. despite voicing it out just now, you have always known.

"i think i've been yours since the first time i saw you."

"augh, that was a bit too much."

"shut it, yeonjun."

this is just another step into their journey. nothing will change between you and you are sure you'll only grow closer as time passes.

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runnning-outof-time · 4 months

Note

Hi K, I hope you’re doing well!🤍

I just wanted to make another request, if that’s alright with you. “I’ll break before I bend.” with Tommy?

Loving your blurbs by the way!

Thanks for sending this in, Reb @peakyswritings ! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write it — I hope you like what I did with it! I decided to use my family from my Girl Dad series because it’s been too long since I’ve written for them (a thank you goes out to the anon who messed me a little while ago asking about them). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Just Some Puppy Love

Tommy Shelby x Reader (family from the Girl Dad series)

Warnings: none - just Tommy being overprotective of his daughter

Word Count: 922

Summary: Tommy’s unhappy about the fact that his eight year old daughter, Thea, has caught the interest of a boy in her class. (Y/N) tries to tell him that he’s overreacting.

“How was school today, darling?” (Y/N) asked her daughter as the she entered the home.

“It was great, mum!” Thea answered, a beaming smile on her face. “I even got to see Evie’s class during lunch!” she added, turning to look at her younger sister, who was nodding profusely.

“That sounds lovely,” (Y/N) smiled, thanking the family’s driver, who tipped his cap at her before returning to the vehicle. “Did anything else exciting happen?” she asked no girl in particular as the three went into the front room.

“Billy was being very nice to me! We played together at recess, and he even shared his purple crayon because mine was too little to use,” Thea was the first to speak up.

“Uncle Arthur’s Billy?” (Y/N) asked out of curiosity. She didn’t think that the cousins were in the same class, but she could have seen him during some other point in the day.

“No, Billy from my class,” Thea chirped while collecting her papers from her bookbag, “he’s always very nice to me. Sometimes we even hold hands and walk around the playground.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) drew out the word, nodding her head slowly. Thea said this in such a nonchalant way; like her mum was supposed to know about this beforehand.

“I scored the highest on my maths test today, mummy!” Evie jumped into the conversation, a beaming smile now present on her face.

“That’s lovely to hear, Evie,” (Y/N) smiled at the little girl while looking at Thea - who had now started on her homework - through the corner of her eye.

Boy, oh boy did she have something to tell Tommy this evening.

“The girls are all down?” Tommy asked as his wife entered his office later that night.

“Juniper fused a little, but they’re all asleep now,” she answered him with a smile as she made her way over to her usual spot on the chaise lounge. She couldn’t help but purse her lips to hide her smile as she finally made eye contact with him.

“What?” Tommy asked, catching onto her expression rather quickly.

“Nothin’,” she brushed him off, glancing down at her fingernails as she picked them.

“You can’t just send that expression my way and then say that it’s nothing,” he commented.

“Well I’ve just done that,” she countered.

“Tell me, (Y/N),” he demanded, his voice dropping to a low level.

“It’s nothing…” she started looking to him again, watching as his mouth opened to argue with the words she said. She continued before he could, “but you’re going to make a big deal over it.”

“Over what?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“Thea might have a boy in her class that fancies her.”

“No,” Tommy shot the idea down within seconds, “impossible.”

“Quite possible considering she told me all about it when she came home this afternoon,” (Y/N) commented. “It’s not a big deal,” she brushed the matter off then.

“Oh but it is. She’s only eight. The boys in school don’t need to be fancying her,” he insisted.

“She is eight, Tommy. There’s no harm in a little puppy love,” she flipped the narrative. Tommy didn’t seem to be buying it. “Besides, they’re not even…”

“Oi, I’m being serious here,” he cut into her defense, his eyes wide, “I’ll break before I bend on this one, (Y/N). No boys. Not for a long time.”

(Y/N) looked at her husband with pursed lips. The intense expression that he was wearing surely worked on his adversaries, but it did nothing to her. “You’re being dramatic about this,” she stated after a few moments had passed.

“I’m not,” he shook his head.

“You are,” she doubled down with a nod. “There’s no reason for a response like that. It’s not like she’s going to go and marry this boy tomorrow. They’re just holding hands on the playground and sharing crayons in class,” she explained the reality of the situation. One look in his direction told her that he wasn’t quite convinced. With a sigh, she stood from her chair. “I know…” she started, moving around his desk so that she could rest her hands on his shoulders, “she’s your first born…your little girl.”

“She is,” Tommy answered in a huff, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyes.

(Y/N) paused for a few beats, leaning down to rest her chin on top of his head as she looked at the photograph of their three girls that sat on his desk. “You don’t need to be worrying about this stuff right now,” she said in a soft voice as she clasped her hands together over his chest. She heard him sigh as he rested his head against her arm. A smile graced her lips as she thought of something to add, “you have another ten years, at least.”

“(Y/N). Don’t,” his voice was low, the two words coming out in a warning. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling anyway.

“I’m teasing you, Tommy,” she told him, pressing her lips to his hair.

“I know. But I still don’t appreciate it,” he answered her, his voice soft now as he turned his head and pressed a similar kiss to the skin of her arm.

(Y/N) smiled at the gesture. This wouldn’t be the last conversation about boys fancying their daughters that they would have. But she knew that Tommy would do whatever it took to make sure that his girls were safe and got the best.

*tags in reblogs so that they hopefully get sent out

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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sweatervest-obsessed · 2 months

Text

Some angst for your morning <3 Love a little fight scene.

wc: 700 (ish)

"You're trying to distract me."

You hummed and shook your head, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

It was very obvious that you were, in fact, trying to distract Spencer from his work. But you couldn't help yourself!

He had been ordered to take the weekend off, Hotch crediting 'burnout' as his reasoning. Spencer did not take likely to this, since it made him feel as though he was slipping, he wasn't good enough for the team.

You, however, were thrilled by the fact that Spencer was forced to take a long weekend.

"Yes. You are."

"Well maybe if you actually took the time off like you were suposed to instead of ignoring me all fucking weekend then we wouldn't have to make me feel like shit for asking for attention from you for one minute." You muttered under your breath, chucking the pillow down where you had been sitting, moving towards the kitchen and away from the living room.

What Spencer had failed to consider was just how happy you were to have him home for a weekend. He failed to recognize the assurance that came with him telling you his definitive whereabouts for three days. He failed to notice the tension leave your shoulders, the smile that edged it way onto your face. Spencer was too busy internalizing what Hotch had said about working to much to realize, that you were hoping to spend this time with him.

Not just sitting in the same room as him as he barely slept and did the exact opposite of what Hotch told him to do.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." Came your voice from the other room, causing Spencer to frown, because he knew what you said, and he knew that you knew what he said---he could start to see the burnout when he realized how quickly he would spiral in his thoughts.

"Shit."

Placing the book down on the coffee table, he followed where you had gone to, stopping in the door frame.

"What do you want Spencer." Tone flat.

"I-I...You were hoping for more time together this weekend."

You snorted and turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Someone is finally back on their profiling game I see."

This caused Spencer's cheek to tinge red. He had failed to notice the basic signs of you being upset--Hotch was right. He did need time off.

"I'm sorry."

"That would mean more if it wasn't Monday night and you didn't have work tomorrow."

Spencer dragged a hand down his face. "I don't want to fight."

"I do." You said simply, looking at him expectantly. You were pissed, rightfully so. And up until now, you hadn't said anything. Admittedly, you should have said something to Spencer earlier. However, you were sure that Spencer wouldn't have actually given you his time or focus if you did.

"I--" He just looked at you. "I really don't know what to say to that."

"That's fine. You don't need to say anything. Maybe you should work on your listening skills instead."

"That's not--"

"Fair? I don't know, I think it is. Hotch told you to take the long weekend off to give your brain a break. And did you listen to him? No. I told you about plans I was hoping we would make for this weekend on Friday, that I know you didn't remember. And this whole weekend, you never actually listened to me, barely processing anything I said."

You took a breath, trying to calm yourself down in the moment, but not diminishing your thoughts, because you were right. And Spencer knew it to.

"What can I do to make it up to you."

You looked at him for a moment before shaking your head. "I really don't know Spence. I don't know." You brushed past him, headed towards the bedroom. It's not to say that you lost your fighting spirit, it's just that you were so severely let down by the man you loved that you didn't really know what to say anymore.

Spencer was unsure as to what to do. So he just stood there, watching as you walked away, not moving to stop you. Only flinching when the door to your shared bedroom slammed, and he was still on the other side of it.

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cottonconnielvr · 10 months

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okayyy, another idea inspired by tt !

now this one, i can say maybe connie had the boys over even though he promised spoiled!reader they were gonna have a date day! no drops, no games, no boys, just her and con! so when she’s met with a group of men circled around the tv she rebuttals by walking around without any panties 🫣 you may continue my lady🫶🏾

I LOVE THISS

✩

“I know I know, i’m sorry princesa. we can just do it tomorrow,kay?” Connie’s thumbs move rapidly on his ps5 controller, his eyes not leaving the tv. You could hear a few laughs coming from his homeboys that were sitting too comfortably on your couch.

You did nothing but roll your eyes, his “boys” eyeing you up and down, staring at your ass a little too long. You stomped out of the living room, going into your room and closing the door.

You were genuinely upset with Connie. You were looking forward to your date night, you guys planned something simple; do a little shopping, have dinner, smoke n fuck, then have a barbie movie marathon.

But as you were preparing to get ready, Connie blessed you with the news “Some of the guys r gonna come over for a bit, just chill a lil bit” You immediately grew upset.

There were times where you felt as if Connie would always choose the streets, drugs, and money before you. He handles his business everyday, is one night away from it so bad?

Hours later, you could still hear the sounds of him doing stupid shit with his friends. You scrolled through instagram, feeling annoyed. Just then you came up with a very very smart idea! You knew the consequence you were gonna have to face after doing this but it was worth it, this would most definitely catch Connie’s attention.

You walked out of your shared room in an oversized graphic tee. You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a pack of gushers out of the pantry.

“SO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU CAN’T STACK WITH THE SAME COLOR?” Jean yells from his spot on the floor.

“NOOOOO YOU STACK BY NUMBER!!” Ony yells back, slapping the side of his head.

You rolled your eyes, loud ass mfs in my house

You walked over to Connie who was smoking a blunt, his hand immediately curving around your waist when you sat on his lap. Your shirt covered your bare glistening cunt, Connie’s muscular thigh pressing against you.

You held up a gusher to his mouth, him mindlessly eating it, passing the blunt to Eren.

“Pay attention to meee” You whispered to Connie, kissing up and down his neck. “I promise I gotchu right after they leave okay?” Your face went straight. You sat on his lap in defeat, you’ve never had to experience someone practically dismissing you.

Suddenly you dropped the package on the floor on purpose. You’d told up before bending down, flashing Connie your wet slit. You mentally smiled when you heard Connie stop talking. You stood up, walking to the trash can as if you were innocent.

You could feel Connie’s eyes on you, staring holes into the side of your face. “Y/N go in the room” He spoke out loud, causing you to look up.

At this point all his homeboys were staring. You could hear Eren snickering. Everyone in the room knew he was about to fuck your shit up, but they didn’t know why.

“Why?” You replied with the most sass and attitude you could generate. Connie didn’t say anything, just staring at you even harder if it was possible.

You sighed before rolling your eyes, walking into your room. Once your back was turned you couldn’t help but smile. I’m about to get dicked down, you sang in your head.

You could hear Connie dismissing all of his friends, finally

Your nerves began to rise just a bit when you heard the door close and lock. You hear Connie’s footsteps approaching your room.

“Fuck is your problem?” Connie closes the door behind it, locking that as well. You weren’t gonna run anywhere

“Connie you cancelled our fucking date night and then you act like you can’t even speak to me just because your “boys” are here” You snap at him, rolling your eyes before plopping back on the bed with your phone in hand, scrolling through instagram.

Before you can blink, Connie snatches your phone out of your hand. “Watch your mouth. I get that you’re upset but that doesn’t mean you walk around with no fucking panties on!” You roll your eyes once again. “Stop rolling your fucking eyes before I get ‘em stuck” Connie’s tattooed hand wraps around your throat, daring you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Connie harshly thrusts up into you. You can’t feel your legs and your arms are shaking, tired from holding up all your weight.

You found yourself in this position often but nothing could explain how exhausting it was. Connie stood in front of the bed, his hands on your waist as he dragged you back on him.

“I..i-m..mhm.. i’m so s-sorry” Your voice whined out, arms going limp as you fall face down on the bed. You can hardly breathe, your cunt tightening around Connie. “I’m sorry too…fuck! s-shit” Connie whines as he follows you down, his body practically on top of you.

He flips you over with one hand, his dick staying stuffed inside you. He looks at your dazed expression, your eyes glossy and lips pouty. “Gonna be good for me hmm?” Connie hums, his thumb rubbing at your clit.

“Y-yes!! I’m sorry…s-slow please” Your hand presses at his lower stomach. Connie only shakes his head, grabbing both of your hands and pining them above your head. His head finds home in the crook for your neck, licking and sucking all over your exposed skin.

His thrusts became more fluid, his hips moving harder against yours. You could feel him everywhere.

In the blink of an eye, you unexpectedly came around him. Connie winced as you squirted around him, triggering his orgasm.

He only fucked into you harder, your mind going blank.

“S-so good mami! F-fuck…” His voice trailed off, whiny and desperate. His thrust slowed to a halt, he looked at you. Your eyes were closed and your lips were parted.

“Always falling asleep” Connie thought to himself before kissing you awake.

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dumbseee · 2 months

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boyfriend!iwaizumi when you’re a famous idol.

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader.

genre: fluff.

warnings: bad english/grammar :p /mention of the kpop industry (in here, dating someone is less taboo than it is in real life) / first work so it’s not that good.

after high school, you left japan for south korea, you always had this dream of becoming a kpop idol. during your time in seijoh, you were already known for being an amazing dancer but also for your angelic voice.

iwaizumi would always brag about you to the volleyball team, oikawa would tease him about you leaving him for a famous korean actor, after you became famous. to which, iwaizumi would respond with a kick in his friend’s back. truth be told, he was actually very scared of what the future had in store for you two after high school. he didn’t know if long distance would work for you, or if you even wanted it in the first place.

during your last school day, iwaizumi walked you back home, like he always did, but he seemed out of it and almost, sad? you asked him what was wrong and he told you that if you wanted to break up with him to focus on your dreams, he’d respect your decision and always support you. he couldn’t even look at you, tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes as he tried his best to keep a straight face. his words surprised you and broke your heart because you never knew that iwaizumi could be so dumb to think that you’d break up with him like that. "no matter the distance, it will never make me forget about how much i love you, hajime."

so you left for south korea and he left for america to study. you two called each other everyday, when you two were too busy, you’d try to call at least twice a week. iwaizumi was busy with school and finals took all his time while your trainee program took up yours. but somehow you two made it work. a few years later, you debuted as a soloist and sold millions with your first album whilst iwaizumi came back to japan after graduating, and became an athletic trainer for japan national volleyball team. you couldn’t be prouder of him, and you were his pride. he streamed all your songs, putting them on speaker while the boys would practice, he brought all your albums and watched the variety shows you were featured in. he was basically the president of your fanclub. and he wasn’t ashamed of it.

you two always made sure to go together on vacation in a foreign country, where kpop wasn’t really the thing. the distance actually strengthened your relationship since being apart of each other for so long, made the reunion better. you knew iwaizumi was it for you, and he was also your muse for your music. your fans often joked about how inspired and how deep your love songs were. it made you laugh to read all their theories about you being married to a farmer. if only they knew…

iwaizumi never minded being your secret boyfriend, he actually liked it that way. he didn’t know if he could bare being in the public eye every time. knowing that you were south korea’s sweetheart, being your public boyfriend would mean saying goodbye to his peaceful life, and iwaizumi wasn’t ready for that. well, he wasn’t ready yet. one day, he woke up to his phone being blown up by messages, actually tons of messages, from the groupchat he shared with the japan national team. he even had missed calls from oikawa, and all his close friends.

shoyo: IWAIZUMI-SENPAIIIIII

SID YOU SEE HHE NEWS???

kageyama: learn how to spell, idiot.

ushijima: blowing up his phone isn’t the best way to announce something like that.

bokuto: HAJI-SAN IT’S TERRIBLE ARE YOU OKAY??

atsumu: JUST SHUT UP

let the man wake up peacefully damn

shoyo: IT WAS TO BE A FAKE NEWS RIGHT??

bokuto: YEAH L/N-SAN WOULD NEVER DO THAT

iwaizumi: what the fuck?

ushijima: you should check twitter, hajime.

iwaizumi had frowned, but went on twitter, an app you forced him to subscribe to. apparently it was the genz’s newspaper. to his surprise, your face was all over his feed, it wasn’t surprising because he liked everything about you, followed dozens of fan account and basically became a fan account himself. but what surprised him was seeing those big account talking about your "relationship" with a famous korean actor.

"l/n y/n, the famous soloist who stole everyone’s heart with her heartfelt songs and beautiful looks, is dating a/l a/n!"

his eyes widened as he typed your name to call you immediately. his heart was beating so fast as he didn’t know how to feel about this. of course it was fake news, right? he knew you’d never cheat on him, you loved each other and iwaizumi couldn’t see his life without you in it. he quickly became aware of how much he loved you and how important you were in his life. without you, iwaizumi would be nothing but an empty shell. "hajime? thank god, i tried to call you!" your voice made him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. "you saw, right?" your voice was small and for a second he thought that maybe you called him to announce your new relationship with this dumbass actor. "yeah, it’s not that fun to wakeup to your friends blowing up your phone and news outlets talking about your girlfriend’s relationship with that fucker." he rubbed his face with his free hand. "these idiots took pictures of us while we were in cabo and thought it was a/n. apparently you two look alike." he heard you chuckle which made him feel warm inside. he hated the fact that he doubted you for a second. suddenly, an idea popped up in his head, a crazy one but still. "you have an award show in a week right?" he asked you, a smile tugging at his lips. "yeah, why?"

well, iwaizumi’s idea was indeed crazy but you didn’t care, you were down for it. and as your name got called in the category, "best female artist", iwaizumi was next to you, he stood up before you could even understand what was going on, and he kissed you. showing to the world, that you were his as much as he was yours. it was a crazy way to launch your relationship to the world, but you didn’t care, because as long as you were together, nothing could happen.

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azsazz · 3 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 21)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,850

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

You haven’t spoken to Azriel since the morning you woke up in his bed alone.

Which, granted, has only been one day.

You’d spent the rest of your Sunday confused, rerunning the previous night over and over and over again until your head hurt with it. You thought that you and Azriel had started anew, if the passionate sex you’d shared the night before was anything to go by. But when you woke, the sheets beside you hadn’t even been warm and the note he’d left you seemed scrawled in haste, like he’d barely had the courtesy to do so on his way out the door.

Something important came up, I’m sorry. I’ll explain later. Please don’t be mad, princess. I’m coming back to you. —Az

He’d left his number but you’d left the comfort of his bed, slipping back into your dress and collecting your things before doing the ultimate walk of shame next door. Really, it’s much worse than the last time you’d snuck out of his apartment. You’d been hungover then, caring mostly about not throwing up in the hall or waking Azriel, but by the silence of the apartment as you made your way out, there was no need for you to be quiet.

It left you only with the aching between your thighs and the mottled bruises painting your skin purple.

That night was better than a dream. You would’ve never thought that you and Azriel could work past the lingering feud you’d started the year with, and you hadn’t realized how draining your constant grudge had been. It turns out that getting over yourself and under him had been the best thing that could’ve happened for your relationship.

His touch burns your skin long after you’ve showered him off. You can still feel him between your legs, fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he held you still for his taking. The feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing yours, everything that he’d done to you last night, clinging to your very being as if he’d tattooed himself across every inch of your skin.

Maybe you should’ve listened to his note. You could have easily stayed in his bed all day, with how comfortable it is, but as the minutes trickled by, the paranoia set in, eating at you until you’d had to flee.

Feyre hadn’t asked any questions when you slipped into her room after your shower. She’d welcomed you with open arms, a sad look in her eyes as if she knew exactly what happened. And maybe she did; maybe she heard you like you heard her, but you hadn’t cared, only snuggled up to your best friend's side as she put a movie on her laptop for the both of you to watch.

She knew you would tell her in good time.

It hadn’t stopped Azriel from blowing up your phone. He must’ve stolen your number from Rhsyand or Cassian, or perhaps he even told them what happened because message after message after message lit up your notifications, pleading for you to answer your phone like an incessant alarm.

Princess…it’s Az. Where did you go?

Do you want some waffles? There might still be some ice cream left before Cassian finishes it all, but with the spoon he’s found, it won’t last long.

Can I please explain?

And finally:

I can hear your phone buzzing through the wall. Please answer me.

You hadn’t replied to those, nor any of the ones that followed. You half expected him to come knocking at your door, but Feyre had noticed your poor mood and told Rhys that the two of you were having a girl’s day and not to bother either of you.

You could’ve both kissed and been upset with her for that.

You wanted that explanation from Azriel, but you also wanted him to fight for it. Let him come knocking, let him ask you in person to explain. Who finally gets the girl and leaves her to wake up alone? Especially after all of the things Azriel had admitted to you…

Monday morning is much the same. You’d successfully avoided seeing Azriel on your way to campus, and as much as you tried focusing on your drawing course, none of the shapes you were drawing turned into anything great.

You’d expected it to be bliss, to get your mind off of every little nitpicky thing you keep thinking about from that night. Feyre and Lucien’s presence helped some, but when the class quieted down for a drawing exercise and you were left alone with your thoughts once again, they naturally drifted back to yesterday morning. Maybe you had misread Azriel’s intentions and he was only looking for a one night stand. You did make the first move, afterall.

It was all a jumbled mess in your head that could only make sense if Azriel explained it. And now you’re once again thinking that you should have stayed…or at least texted him back.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Lucien asks, startling you from your thoughts. The tip of your charcoal cracks against your drawing pad and you frown, staring at the black chalky marks on your fingers. You frown, shoving the immediate thought of Azriel from your head and tilt your head up to meet Lucien’s concerned gaze.

You offer him a forced smile. “Yeah, sorry, I was zoning out a bit. I’m fine.” You hadn’t realized that class ended and everyone is packing up their things. Feyre’s over by the drawers, stowing her pad in the one you share. Lucien doesn’t look like he believes you, but he stays silent while you hastily pack your supplies away, grimacing at the drawing you’d been working on.

You don’t check your phone. You’d already woken up to multiple messages from Azriel this morning, asking to walk you to class and explain. Luckily, you hadn’t run into him on your way out the door, tearing down the staircase with a confused Feyre trying to keep up.

Lucien and Feyre are talking about where you should all head to lunch when the three of you leave the building. Alis had announced another assignment, and the premise already hangs heavy on your shoulders. The instructions were left loose enough that you have once again no idea what you’re going to draw for it. It’s infuriating, how everyone else just seems to know immediately what they’re wanting to create when it takes you weeks to figure it out, and then when you do, you’re changing your mind again and again, worried that nothing is good enough.

You run smack into Lucien’s back while you’re lost in your thoughts. Your friends are three steps out the door and your nose stings from where you’d hit it against your friend. Lucien hardly even seems to notice, his mouth set in a straight line and he and Feyre stare directly ahead.

At Azriel, who’s leaning up against the railing. He looks so nervous it’s almost as if he doesn’t even go to this school; doesn’t walk into the same buildings or around the same campus. His thumb is tucked into the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder, and the other is stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket. His black hair is tousled but not from the wind, from the amount of times he’s nervously run his fingers through it.

You watch his golden eyes flick over Feyre and Lucien, darkening as they rove over your copper haired friend while you step out from behind him. He instantly finds your gaze and they soften, and then he’s pushing off from the railing and making his way towards you. Your face heats because this is the last place you thought Azriel would corner you. In public.

“Hey, Azriel,” Feyre greets, glancing over at you. You shake your head softly but keep your gaze pinned to Azriel who strides closer like he no longer has a care in the world. It’s a front and you know it.

Azriel nods politely, but he doesn’t break your stare. “(Y/N), can we talk for a minute?”

You feel Feyre’s confused blue eyes burning into your skin. The way that she slides her phone from her pocket like she’s trying not to make any sudden movements is not missed by you nor Azriel, but neither of you seem to care that she’s seconds away from messaging Rhys about this. You wonder if he knows, if Azriel had admitted anything to his roommates about you, about the night you shared together.

Lucien is tense, shoulders coiled tight. He’s almost glaring at Azriel but it doesn’t faze the onyx haired boy in the least, like he’s a speck of dust on his shoulder. Nothing can deter Azriel, of this you know. Somehow, he’s just as stubborn as you are, and the soft look in his eyes, pleading with you, makes your stomach twist.

“Sure,” you find yourself agreeing. You turn to your friend so you don’t have to witness the relief on his face. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. And I’ll see you in Art History, Fey.”

“You better,” your best friend mutters, already tapping away at her phone. She drags Lucien by the sleeve because he doesn’t seem inclined to leave you alone with Azriel despite you agreeing to speak with him. Azriel looks like he’s going to bare his teeth at the boy. “Come on, Luc.”

You start down the stairs of the building, going the opposite direction from your friends. You can feel Lucein’s sun and moon eyes on you as you walk, but you don’t turn around to look.

Azriel catches up to you in two great strides. You don’t know where you’re going, fine with waltzing around campus while you talk. You might need to text Feyre to bring you something to eat during class, because you’re getting hungry for lunch.

“I don’t like him,” Azriel mutters, and you can tell by the tight grip he has on the straps of his backpack.

“I don’t think you like anyone,” you respond, not unkindly, but it’s not a friendly remark either. It’s strange almost, to be seen with him in public not only after your public feud, but the night you’d spent together as well. It feels like a dirty little secret has come to light, and you don’t like it.

Azriel glances at you sidelong, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “I like you.”

You snort because he doesn’t even know you, not really. “You didn’t even like me two days ago, Azriel,” you start but he’s already shaking his head in disagreement, denying your accusations. “And with the way you up and left me in your room, I’m thinking there’s still a possibility that you don’t even like me now.”

He stops you with a gentle hand on your elbow, turning you to face him. You stumble at the suddenness of the move and it puts you a step closer to him than you’d like. His grip on your arm isn’t firm or demanding, it’s a soft caress that matches the pleading look in his honeyed eyes.

“Please,” he murmurs, and you can see just how much your avoidance has been bothering him. His fingers tremble along your arms and when you look down at them he pulls away, nervously tucking them into the pocket of his hoodie. It makes something in your chest crack a little. “I can explain.”

“Explain, then,” you answer simply.

Azriel shifts on his feet, glancing around. There are students milling about and you should probably keep walking or at least move out of the way, lest the both of you get mowed down by someone late to class or a biker. “Here?”

You quirk a brow.

He sighs a little, exasperated. “Can I take you somewhere? How about lunch?”

You study him. It’s clear that he wants to explain to you, and he looks just as stressed out about the situation as you are. And you really do want to hear what he has to say for himself, if his reason for leaving you is forgivable…

“Fine,” you relent, and his shoulders drop a notch. “But I have class this afternoon and I can’t be late.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Rita’s is the kind of place that you walk past and don’t go in.

The outside is a smidge better than decrepit, with its peeling paint and uneven sidewalk. There’s graffiti on the side of the building, tags you can hardly ready with how curvy and obnoxious the letters look. One of the windows has a shade, but it’s hanging by a thread and looks more like a hazard than not, and the rest of the windows are bare, sunlight pouring into the yellowing casement. You wouldn’t even know the place is open with its rusted neon sign so broken and sad.

But Azriel guides you in through the door with a hand on the small of your back and you blame the shiver that travels up your spine on the blast of cold air that hits you in the face when you step over the threshold.

Maybe you’ve been a little harsh on its exterior appearance because the inside is tidy. The air smells like greasy burgers and crunchy fries, and there’s a shiny jukebox in the corner playing an oldies song you think you’ve heard at one of Cassian’s parties once. Well, you heard it through the wall when the entirety of said party belted it at the top of their lungs and not even your headphones could block out the noise.

There’s an older man sitting at the counter and a girl who looks to be about your age behind the counter. She’s smacking her gum and doodling on her order pad, a half abandoned milkshake melting in the red cup beside her. She doesn’t even look up when Azriel leads you towards a booth, and you slide in opposite him with furrowed brows.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, nervousness flicking through his eyes. He hesitates to sit down, awaiting your response.

“Nothing,” you assure him with a soft smile you don’t feel is genuine. “I didn’t even know this place was here, really.”

Azriel all but slumps onto the electric blue seat, eyes sparkling with delight. Your heart rate picks up at the sight of the little grin he offers you. It’s nice to see this side of him, happy and relaxed, in his element.

You wonder how he looks when he’s concentrated on a drawing, or a tattoo.

He’s got them covered up with his leather jacket today, though the tips of those coiling shadows around his collar bones peek out from the neckline of his black t-shirt and you think about how much you were coiled around each other the other night, skin to skin.

Your cheeks heat with the memory, and you look down at your lap.

“It’s great,” Azriel explains, slipping out of his jacket. You wish you had paid more attention to the artwork marking his skin the night you spent together but there hadn’t been much time to with the way you were all over each other, and he wasn’t around when you woke up. “Been coming here since freshman year.”

You’re about to respond when the waitress you’d seen arrives, slapping two menu’s down on the funky patterned table. You startle with the motion and shift uncomfortably when Azriel all but glares at the girl. She doesn’t seem to care though, flipping her stark white hair over her shoulder with a sneer.

Her brown eyes flit over you like you’re a piece of her chewed gum stuck under the table, then leans her hip against the edge of the table, flipping her order pad open. “I already know what you want,” he says haughtily to Azriel, and then those piercing brown eyes are on you, pinning you to your seat like it’s a trap from Saw. “What will you be having?”

“I, um, I’m not sure yet,” you stutter awkwardly, because you’re confused. Who is this and why is Azriel acting like this is normal? “I need to look at the menu.”

She rolls her eyes and the silence that ensues makes your face grow hot, sweat bead at your hairline. She crosses her arms over her chest, popping a bubble with her gum, and it’s as if she’s waiting for you to look at the menu and decide right now. You send a pleading look to Azriel whose jaw is ticking with annoyance.

“Give us a minute, will you, Cresseida? And let Rita know I’m here. Thanks.”

With another eye roll and an annoyed “Whatever,” Cresseida all but stomps away from your table. Your eyes trail her until she’s around the counter and pushing through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

“She seems…lovely,” you mutter, fingering the corner of the menu where it’s bent. “Seems like the kind of place you would’ve taken me when we didn’t like each other,” you tack on, squinting at the small font. Why are there so many items on the menu?

“I’m sorry about her,” Azriel blurts, and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen him blush. It’s unfairly adorable. He offers you a hand, face up, and you can’t resist that look in his eyes, how he’s offering you his scarred hand instead of hiding it. With a short huff, you place your palm on his and he immediately intertwines your fingers, holding tight. It makes you blush. “She’s always been cranky,” he peers over his shoulder like she might be standing right behind him. “I promise, Rita is much nicer.”

You give him a forced smile because honestly, you’re not sure what else to say to that. You’re not even sure you’re all that hungry anymore, with Cresseida’s off putting attitude and the nerves that are gnawing on your stomach from the talk you’re about to have with Azriel.

You busy yourself with looking at the menu. There are way too many options and not enough time to decide because a short, stocky woman is trapezing her way around the countertop and towards your table, her eyes glowing with joy.

“Azriel, what brings you back so soon? Oh—and who is this lovely lady?” Her eyes fall across your intertwined fingers and she fails to stifle the beaming grin that appears on her red lips. You can tell that she’s a gem by appearance alone, but also in the way that she looks at Azriel, like he’s the son she’s never had. You can’t help but to smile at her. Her round face is flush with a permanent blush and she looks like the kind of woman you’d love to hug.

“Rita, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Rita, the owner of Rita’s Diner.”

“Very nice to meet you,” you greet eagerly, trying to pull your hand away from Azriel’s to shake her hand. He doesn’t let go, and smirks at the glare you shoot his way.

“(Y/N) as in…” Rita trails off, flicking a glance at Azriel. You narrow your eyes at him, curious as to what he’s told her about you. She continues, “As in your girlfriend, Azriel?”

You almost splutter, cheeks going red hot at her insinuation.

Azriel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, admiring the color to your cheeks and the shock in your eyes. “Not yet.”

Not yet.

But maybe soon, when he finally explains himself.

Rita winks at him and you really want to bury your face in the menu right now.

“What can I get for you, darlin’?” Rita asks, her voice sweet as cherry pie.

“I don’t know, there are so many options…” you trail off, sending a pleading look towards Azriel. “Almost too many to choose from.”

Rita’s chest swells with pride and Azriel snickers.

“Cass prefers the pancakes,” he supplies, “But I think the waffles are better.”

“Pancakes, it is,” you beam, handing Rita back the menu. Azriel glares playfully and Rita seems positively overjoyed as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Your smiles fade with Rita’s cheerful attitude and it’s all too soon that you’re aware you’re holding Azriel’s hand and he still hasn’t explained. You look at him and he’s already sighing. There are dark circles under his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, and you can tell that he hadn’t slept well last night either.

Azriel strokes a thumb across your knuckles and your tense shoulders ease a bit. The embarrassment you’d felt when you woken up alone in his bed has simmered with his eagerness to explain to you what happened that morning, but you’re still feeling a bit tender about it, especially when you see the pained look on Azriel’s face.

Whatever had happened hadn’t been good.

And you feel like a fool when he answers your question lingering between the both of you.

“The reason I wasn’t there that morning was because my father was in town. He came to see me.”

You try to swallow back the sudden rage boiling up from your stomach. The man who’d let his step-sons burn Azriel’s hands. The one who doesn’t want him to follow his dreams, his passions, when he clearly has the skill to do something amazing with them. The one who didn’t even visit him that night of the incident.

You squeeze his hand and Azriel seems to relax, understanding your forgiveness. Your throat is still tight when you respond, forcing the word out. “Okay…”

It gives him room to continue, even though Azriel looks like he’d rather face Cresseida’s wrath again.

“He found interest in purchasing and renovating our apartment building.”

You blink, not sure you’ve heard him correctly. “What?” You tack on, defensively. “Why?”

Azriel shrugs. To keep me in fucking check. He sighs as if the tremendous weight on his shoulders is two seconds away from crushing him completely. You don’t like that frown on his face and you don’t like his father.

“He thinks it’s a good investment opportunity, I guess.”

You don’t like the sound of this one bit, and Azriel agrees with you.

“And if he does buy it?”

Azriel shakes his head sadly, “No more neighbors.”

You didn’t think the thought of not being his next door neighbor would hit you so hard. Your chest aches with the idea of it, no longer sharing a wall. Even though you despised it at the beginning, you’ve gotten used to and even like the fact that you share a wall now.

Rita comes back and sets a plate of hot pancakes in front of you and a stack of blueberry waffles in front of Azriel. Everything smells delicious and your mouth waters at the sight of the thick pat of butter melting its way across the top of your breakfast.

She places a milkshake between you and Azriel, and there’s no missing the two neon colored straws sticking out of the top. You blush, thanking her.

She winks in response. “Enjoy, you two.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthrongirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl

#acotar #midnight muse #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #art school au #artist!azriel

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cassie48 · 2 months

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• 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

Dark!Paul atreides x fem pregnant reader

Pt 3

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The day after Paul had made his motivational speech to the Fremen about turning Arrakis into dune again, you two were in your shared room at night.

You sat at your little vanity, brushing through your hair, preparing yourself for bed. You saw Paul go over his plans at his desk, standing above it all.

You couldn’t stop worrying about what would happen tomorrow. What if Paul got hurt? What if something bad happened and you were left all alone? It’s all suddenly became too much for you, as you began to cry, dropping the brush in your hand.

Paul’s head shot up, very shocked at your sudden crying. He quickly left his desk. “My love?” He asked as he walked over to you.

You held your hands out to him, hiccuping and crying as you did. God, you have been so emotional these last few months.

He finally reached you, he picked you up, and sat you on his lap, trying his best to calm you down.

“I’m sorry paul. I’m just so worried about what’s gonna happen tomorrow. What happens if something bad happened to you, and I’d be left all alone!” You said suddenly crying even heavier.

Paul wiped away your falling tears, hugging you close to him. “Sweetheart, nothing will happen. I’d never dream on leaving you. Your seven months pregnant with my child. I’d 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 leave you alone” he snarled, hating the image of it.

You nodded into his chest, slightly calming down. He toyed with your hair, running his hands through it. “Your just tired, you’ll feel better in the morning” he told you, placing his hand on your big bump, which was covered by a night dress.

“Ok” you whispered, your eyes becoming heavy as you drifted off to sleep in his lap. He smirked at you. The pregnancy had really taken a toll on your body. You were constantly crying, extremely needy and most of all, falling asleep almost anywhere. But 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱. He loved how you had to rely on him. This child will definitely have siblings.

He carefully picked you up, bring you over to your shared bed, placing you under the covers delicately. Smiling down at you and giving you one last kiss to the forehead, before going to check his palms once more.

The following day was eventful to day the least. You had went with Paul as he checked with Chani and Stilgar to make sure they were ready. As soon as the battles were to begin, he brought you into a hidden room, with five Fremen warriors.

“Are you alright?” He asked cupping your cheek gently.

You nodded “promise you’ll come back to me?” With a pout.

“Promise” is all he said before pulling you into a passionate kiss, eventually pulling away when he remembered he had to fight a battle.

He turned to the Fremen who were to protect you “if any of you let any harm come her way, I will slit all of your throats” he said giving them a look of rage and disgust.

You shared one last smile with him before he left. You hadn’t heard anything till ten minutes later, you heard Paul yell “long live the fighters” in the Fremen language.

After that many bombs and guns were firing, you were hoping none were at Paul. Your heart was racing as you sat there for over an hour 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆.

Eventually, after what felt like centuries, you heard running in the hall outside your room. You prayed it wasn’t a harkonnen, god only knows what they’d do to you.

“Y/N!” You heard Paul yell from outside.

You quickly jumped up and walked as fast as you could to meet him. When you did he pulled you into a tight hug, before kissing you passionately, kissing all down your neck and face. The Fremen behind you looked away in fear.

“We’ve done it! We’ve won, but I need to challenge the emperor for the throne” he said kissing your cheek.

You nodded as he guided you to a meeting room where all the Fremen had been since the battle. You cling onto Paul, as people whizzed past you left right and centre.

Chani had came up to hug you, telling you she was glad you were alright. You hugged her back, telling her the same.

Paul took you back into his arms, you two resting your heads on each others, savouring the moment.

“You know I’ll always love you, for as long as I live and even in death. I need to challenge the emperors throne, but I need you at my side to rule, can you do that?” He asked both hands on your waist.

“Of course Paul. Wherever you are, I will be” you told him, pecking him on the lips slightly, making him smile.

After a moment Paul turned to the Fremen, yelling “bring my prisoners”.

Only a moment later, you saw feud-rautha, the emperor and his daughter, and the Reverend mother who had taught lady Jessica come in.

Paul explained that he wanted to claim the throne as his. All of them seemed shocked at his decision. The reverend mother was not happy with him at all.

“Consider what your about to do Paul atreides”she began

“Silence!” Paul yelled using the voice on her.

Feyd ruatha and Paul had to battle, in order for him to claim the throne. Paul walked over to you grabbing the knife from beside you and quickly kissing your cheek, telling you it would be ok.

He stood in front of Feyd ruatha, putting the knife against his heart and head saying “may thy knife chip and shatter.

Feyd Ruatha only smiled in response before repeating “ may 𝗧𝗵𝘆 knife chip and shatter” before launching at Paul.

The two battles for what felt like hours, you heart going 200 bpm. After a minute Paul had been stabbed just under the top of his arm. He began breathing heavy, but he remained to be ok. This triggered your silent crying.

Feyd Ruatha noticed this before saying

“Is this your little wife? Perhaps I’ll take her as mine when I kill you, and I’ll kill that child inside her.” He said with disgust.

This set off Paul as he lunged forward stabbing him in the heart. Your breathed a sigh of relief.

“No one, talks about her that way.” he said before yanking the knife out of his now dead body.

A moment later Paul walked up to the emperor and his daughter.

The emperor smiled nervously “take my daughters hand you two can rule the empire” with a sly look towards you.

Your heart caught in your throat, but Paul quickly made your worries vanish with his quick reply.

“How dare you disrespect her like that. Only the woman bearing my son, will sit my side” he said before telling the Fremen to lock the away again, and that he’d kill them later.

The room erupted in cheers, Paul had done it. He was actually now emperor.

He walked up to you, blood smeared on his face as he took your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. You moaned into the kiss, hugging his body against yours.

“I was scared you’d accept the offer” you teased with a pout.

“I will only ever love you” he said laying his hand on your pregnant belly, kissing you once more.

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

I think this will be the end of this little series and I hope you all enjoyed!!

#dune part two #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides x reader yandere #paul atreides #chani #fanfiction #dune movie #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #smut

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norrizzandpia · 3 months

Text

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean. (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

Warnings: language, mentions of grinding

Note: this is very very little women coded but nobody is related. You’ll see. Once again, this is a sad ending, but a happy one will be up soon. I just wanted to get something out to you guys because it’s been so long since i posted and im finally feeling up to returning to you all. Genuinely, i feel like this isn’t my greatest greatest work, nothing quite worthy of a comeback fic, but i hope that doesn’t deter you all <3 ill be back with some of my regular abilities soon just a bit rusty so forgive me lol

Y/n had never had a boyfriend. There were failed talking stages and men who stole longer-than-preferred glances at her, but there was never an official, labeled and definite boyfriend. A part of her life which her friends always teased her for, a part of her life which she was secretly so deeply insecure about. Throughout her twenty-two years spent on Earth, she had been told that she was intimidating, that she was “too pretty” to be approached, but, as high school passed and she graduated college without anyone putting in effort, the passing thoughts of “something is wrong with me” took hold. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the fact she liked musicals; maybe it was the friends she hung out with, or the jokes she made; maybe it was her looks, or her smile; maybe her laugh was obnoxious, or she didn’t seem like girlfriend material. She could never escape the feeling that she was inadequate, that somehow, over the years, she had molded herself into a person that no one else would stick around for romantically. Somehow, she wound up unloveable.

Lando, in the beginning, was a maybe. Becoming friends with him was, if you asked her, one of the scariest things she had ever embarked on in her life. Famous, rich, and successful Lando Norris loved her company, even adding in a few questionable and suggestive comments in the midst of it all. Her friends, however relentless, had continuously talked about the possibility of Lando liking her, but she shut it down every time. With the way she had forced her brain to be wired, Lando would never see her as more than a friend. The comments about how beautiful he thought she was, though, she could never explain.

“Are you going to answer me or what?” Y/n’s eyes focused back to the man in her mind, sitting before her at his kitchen table and staring at her as if she had died and came back to life.

She leaned her body against the counter, “Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

He scoffed and laughed all at once, “You didn’t hear anything I just said? Are you okay?”

His eyes flitting over her face made her chuckle and shake her head, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the upcoming projects I have for work.”

He nodded, though his slightly furrowed eyebrows portrayed confusion, “Okay… Well, Max invited us to go out tonight. There’s a new club a few blocks down that he got on the VIP list for. You in?”

Deciding that maybe going out would somehow remedy the strong belief that no man wanted her, Y/n nodded.

—

“Can you hear me?!” Lando screamed into Max’s ear. His best friend looked at him, a drink in both their hands, and laughed.

“Yes, I can hear you, dumbass! When you yell right in my eardrum, it’s hard not to! What’s up?”

Lando was hesitant before leaning in once more, his tone lowered an octave, “Who is that dancing with Y/n?”

Max followed Lando’s eyeline, finding his good friend grinding up against a man he couldn’t even recognize.

He shook his head, “I don’t know. At least, she’s having fun!” His laughter at his comment died down when he turned his head to see Lando pouting.

Max scoffed, “Mate, you can’t be upset with her venturing out. She doesn’t even know you think of her that way!”

Lando shook his head, “I don’t see her that way.”

Max shoved his shoulder, “All I hear is denial, denial, and fucking denial. When you wake up one morning and find out you loved her all along, don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re too late because she’s with someone else.”

Lando laughed it off, though the pit in his stomach made him want to puke up the alcohol he had consumed for the night. Maybe he had just had one too many, he told himself.

Yeah, it was the alcohol consumption.

Max’s piercing gaze leveled with Lando’s, liquor coursing through the Brit’s veins as he said lowly, “I’m sick and tired of that bullshit.”

Lando rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max nodded feverishly, “Yes, you do! You know I can’t fucking stand the way you shun your feelings for her! I know it’s probably a dick move on my part to tell you how you feel, but if you keep dancing around her, you’re gonna lose her. I don’t want to see that for you.”

Lando shook his head briefly, coolness flowing from him as if Max’s words didn’t strike panic within his blood, “I’m not going to lose her, Max. I think alcohol makes you overdramatic.”

Max groaned and stomped away, liquid sloshing out of his glass as he retreated into the crowd. Lando’s eyes were left to fall back on his Y/n. The man’s hands were on her hips, swaying hers against his as he kissed her neck. He hated the sight and he didn’t know why.

Truthfully, he did know why.

—

“If a guy visits you at work with your favorite coffee order, does that mean he’s interested in you?” Y/n waltzed into the sunlit living room of Max’s apartment, Lando sprawled out on the couch as Max scrolled through his phone on a big chair in the corner.

“Uh, yes.” Max replied quickly, before Lando had the opportunity of selfishly saying no.

Holding her phone in one hand and the other balled in a fist, Y/n blurted, “Are you sure?”

Max pulled himself from his slouched position, looking at her intently and not daring to see the way Lando was eyeing him. He could feel the fiery gaze on his shoulder, “No man is going out of his way to buy you your favorite coffee and come see you at a corporate office for .2 seconds. Trust me, Y/n, the man likes you.”

She nodded her head side to side, “Mmm, maybe.”

”He’s right.” Lando murmured, a heavy heart as he watched her gaze snap to his, as if his thoughts on the subject convinced her more of what was right in front of her.

Max side-glanced him, a war in his head as he tried to decipher Lando and whatever he was trying to accomplish.

“You think?” She whispered, looking down at her phone when it buzzed. A blush across her cheeks made Lando’s heart squeeze.

Did she smile that way when he texted her?

Lando cleared his throat, “What’s this guy’s name? Is this the same guy you were dancing with at the club?”

She nodded, “Yeah, it is. His name is Chris.”

“Last name?” He continued, listening intently for the information.

Y/n laughed, “What? Are you going to Instagram-stalk him or something?”

Yes.

”No. Just curious.” He smiled lightly. All the while, Max was rolling his eyes.

”Chris Greenberg.” She smiled back, a moment between the two where Lando seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes off the grin displayed in front of him.

He sat back, “Alright, most generic name I’ve ever heard, but okay.”

She shook her head at Lando, the smile still on her face as she plopped on the couch beside him.

His arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, his hand toying with the ruffled fabric of her shirt. Lando tried not to fall into the mess of her in his mind yet the soft skin under his fingertips made his mind get away from him. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want the morning where he woke up and he found out he was in love with his best friend to come.

But, he also couldn’t bear the thought of Chris touching her in the way he does. He willed himself not to think about Chris seeing her naked or taking care of her in the way Lando always had. Maybe he had never kissed her, but he had held her hand in moments of pain and he had been there for her when no boyfriends had the privilege of being able to show up. Lando had always been something to her and she had always been something to him, they both knew that.

He wanted her to stay single and he wanted her to stay his precious girl.

And suddenly, he couldn’t deny what he felt for her.

On the couch, with Max a few feet away from them and his fingers only lightly grazing her warmth, Lando’s eyes turned to her and he gave into the pull that he had been fighting for years.

A minute away from begging her to see him for what he needed her to, her phone lit up between them. One singular notification lit up the screen, her lock screen a picture of them two after he had gotten his Silverstone podium. A notification which was from Chris, a blushing emoji next to his name.

His mouth opened from the words he so recklessly wanted to say, he realized what he was about to do: confessing feelings he found out about five seconds ago while Max was sitting next to them. So embarrassed and slowly reaching a state of distraught, Lando retracted his arm from her body.

Y/n grabbed her phone from the space between their legs, opened her phone, and giggled at whatever stared back at her.

Lando knew his face said it all. He was always facially expressive. If she had turned her head, or Max, they would’ve seen it written all over his face. The sickening realization that he was in love with the girl sitting beside him.

Part of him loved that they weren’t paying attention to him, but another part wished she would move her head a few centimeters, catch his eyes, and let him study the way she took his breath away.

—

“Where are you going?” Lando stumbled over his feet as he ran to the door. Y/n in a black, tight dress looking stunning had alarms going off in his head.

Her hand on the door knob, “A date.”

“Why?”

She laughed slowly, “Um, because? Chris asked me? I said yes?”

Lando’s hands rested on his hips, gray sweatpants slugging low on his waist as he stared at her, “Where’s he taking you?”

She mirrored his stance, “Why?”

He scoffed, “Because! I should know where you are! What if he tries to kill you and nobody knows your location?”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and opened the door. In the crack, Lando could see Chris standing against his car with flowers in his hand, looking like everything Y/n deserves and more. Chilling as he realized he’s trying to fight something that is not meant for him. Y/n doesn’t deserve him. She deserves someone who will sleep next to her every night, who won’t leave her every weekend for their job. She deserves someone who is available and dependable. He isn’t that. He will never be that. Chris already is that.

“I will be fine, Lan. Thank you for worrying, but Chris is a nice guy.” She smiled, not giving him room to argue as she slipped out and closed the door.

He stared at the wood for a moment or two, hearing her giggles from outside and knowing how taken she sounded. He wanted her to turn around, to open the door back up and say something that would give him confirmation that Max wasn’t right; that he didn’t realize too late the things he felt for her.

She would never come to the door and Lando would, after fifteen minutes of waiting and hearing the tires drive away, slink back to his bed.

—

She came to the door. Knocking frantically and rambling the moment Lando opened it, Y/n burst into his apartment.

Lando’s hands raised in the air, “Woah, woah, woah, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He watched her face light up before she took a deep breath and withheld his favorite smile, “The date went so amazing, Lan! He is so considerate and… and he listens! Lando, he sat there and listened to me ramble about my family, my friends, and everything else about my life and then asked me questions about the things I was mentioning! He likes the same things I do and he’s so cute and I can genuinely feel like he really likes me this time! He puts in the effort! He! Puts! In! The! Effort! Lando! Seriously, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy!”

Even though he knew it before answering the door, her bursting summary of this perfect guy solidified it for him.

She came to the door, but she didn’t come for him.

He stared at her, his heart emptied out of hope as he watched her big smile dwindle down.

”Why don’t you look happy for me?” She cocked her head as he stared back at her, a dead expression adorning his usually calm face.

”I love you.”

Lando watched her face drop, a hopeful smile morphing into a void. Her bag dropped to her feet and she leaned her head forward, “Stop.”

He blinked at her, “What?”

She looked back up at him, “Stop, Lando. Don’t say that.”

He scoffed, “It’s true!”

Glistening tears pooled in her eyes, “Lando, stop. Don’t be mean.”

He shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”

She roughly wiped the wetness that had fallen to her cheeks before looking at him with such a deadly gaze, “No, you aren’t! This is so fucking selfish of you! For once, I’ve found someone that will put in the effort and that I can genuinely trust in making the right decisions when it comes to me! And, now, here you fucking are, telling me you love me! It’s fucking cruel! Can you just let me be happy just this once? Why can’t I get my chance to be in love? You’ve experienced it! Why can’t you just let me do it?!”

He took a step closer to her and she took one back, “I do want you to be happy! I want you to be with me!”

She crossed her arms, “Oh, and you’re going to make me happy?”

“I will try.” He whispered.

She memorized the heels strapped around her feet, “Not good enough.”

He reared back, “What?”

She willed her eyes to meet his, “Not. Good. Enough. Chris will be good to me, I know that. I can’t trust that you’ll be good to me or be good to me until you get bored and find someone else to have fun with.”

”Is that what you think you are to me?” He asked, his heart reaching out for her, but breaking into pieces for how she views herself in his life before he can get there.

She looked up at him, eyes reddening under the tears, “If I meant something to you, if you loved me, you’d want me to be with the safe option.”

His hand trailed up her arm as tears fell from his cheeks similarly to hers, “I can be the safe option.”

”No, Lando. No, you can’t. I want Chris. I can’t deal with whatever life crisis you’re in the midst of right now.”

He groaned, “It’s not a life crisis. It’s me realizing what you truly mean to me.”

She waved her hand, “Sure, Lando.”

She moved away from his cornering, taking steps toward the door before Lando stopped her, “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”

”I’m going to. I won’t give up the first guy to genuinely show me I mean something deeply to him for someone else who just apparently figured out they loved me after years of spending time together.” She continued by confirming his deepest fears, “You’re not reliable. You can't always be there when I need you to. That’s fine. I understand, but I’m not going to put myself in a spot to get hurt for you.”

He pleaded with her, “Why can’t you just give me a chance?”

”It’s not worth it, Lando.” She stared at him, “Let me be happy.”

”You can be happy with me.”

She shook her head, “Everything looks clearer in the morning, including your feelings for me.”

”What does that even mean?” He questioned, her form retreating to the door and practically screaming at him to let her go.

She sighed, “I’m sure you’re just tired. I’m sure you don’t mean any of this. How could you? Lando, you could get anyone. I’m not the girl you choose.”

Tears falling harder, he exhaled a quick breath, “You are the girl I choose!”

”And how long until I’m not?”

A silence followed, one that gave her enough time to open the door and leave. What was supposed to be the start of a new chapter for her turned into a reference to a past one.

The past chapter in her life where she loved Lando just as he described to her seconds before and a chapter where she convinced herself he would never feel the same. Still, she believed he never would. That what he had said to her was an episode, some dream he was sleep-talking in.

Lando would never pick her in the long run.

Even when he said he would.

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