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#just playing around no offense meant
dollfacefantasy · 6 months
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Hold My Calls
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation
word count: 2.9k
a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)
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When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.
He had a fucking flip phone.
Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.
It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.
“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.
You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”
And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”
The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.
He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.
“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.
“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”
Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”
“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.
You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.
“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.
He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.
He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”
You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.
“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.
“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”
“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.
“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.
You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.
He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.
He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.
Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.
His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.
He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.
“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.
You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.
You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.
“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”
“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”
You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.
“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.
He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.
“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.
Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.
“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”
He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.
“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.
“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”
That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.
“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”
Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.
You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.
“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.
You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.
He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.
His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.
He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.
He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.
Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”
It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.
He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.
His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.
“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”
You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.
“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation. 
Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.
You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.
His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.
“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.
“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.
You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.
“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”
As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.
He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.
“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.
You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.
“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”
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sillymercury · 29 days
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Totally Annoying and Not Funny at All
Azriel x reader
<3
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Warnings: some swearing and suggestiveness
Word count: 6.7k (I’m so sorry??)
Summary: Azriel finds you annoying and he never laughs at your lame jokes… until he does.
<3
Azriel tried his best to ignore the mumbling that was sounding behind him, tune it out like he did with everything else he didn't want to hear. He sighed rolling his shoulders as he continued to shlep up the uneven rocks.
He had been stuck with you... again. He tried raging against his brother’s order, insisting he could handle a simple recovery mission on his own but Rhys didn't budge, saying, "She's a fine scholar who has studied Marestone for years, with her help you can turn a three day mission into one and a half." But being here, with you, he couldn't help the but wondering on the implications of leaving you here and ditching the mission completely.
It started when you appeared in his doorway as he was getting ready to leave, his shadows alerted him of your presence and he stopped short to give you a hard look. Maybe if he looked mean enough you wouldn't want to go, he knew it wouldn't work but he had to try it anyway.
You let out a low whistle as your eyes tracked up and down his body, "Is that a sword in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You had a devilish smile and your eyes shone with mischief. He just rolled his eyes at the words, the same line every time you see him. Last time you asked if it was a shadow, the time before that a dagger, and the time he was carrying training equipment you asked if it was a fighting dummy.
He didn't speak to you as you sauntered through his room uninvited and landed belly up on his bed, shadows darted around your face and you giggled "at least someone's happy to see me." You pawed at the shadows as they darted through your hands, a little cat and mouse with the naughty shadows that didn't listen when its master tried to call them back.
You rolled over and watched him as he continued to sheath daggers and swords all over his body as the shadows played in your hair. "You know," you started and he rolled his eyes again, knowing it was going to be a repeating offense since he had to spend the next day and a half with you, "The Northwood mountains are relatively safe, I don't think you'll be needing all that hardware."
He didn't have to look over to know you had a stupid grin plastered on your face as you watched him. He just huffed and responded coldly, "You never know." You didn't really and he knew that, you moved through the world like it was your playground and you were put on this planet for the sole reason of having fun, never worrying about the dangers life has to offer. Must be nice not having a dirty past he thought to himself.
You returned the sentiment by huffing in response as well, the only difference of yours was light and airy and not laced with annoyance. "Your right your right," you had opted to rolling back over and kicking your feet as the shadows swished around your ankles, "I hear badgers are particularly dangerous this time of year. I might need you to save me,” you laughed at your own dramatics and Azriel cut a glance in your direction only for his eyes to catch on your feet.
With two stomps he was next to the bed grabbing your ankles, he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, earning and excited wooo from your lips before he threw your feet over the side. “No shoes on the bed,” was all he said before he went back to what he was doing, packing his sack with anything he could possibly need for the overnight trip.
You sat up straight and the shadow moved to curl around your neck like a scarf, “Sorry, I forgot that you’re a neat freak.” You were provoking him and he knew it but he still couldn’t help himself.
“I’m not a- I’m not a neat freak, I’m just not dirty,” his tone was meant to be offensive and he felt his anger rising at the fact that you didn’t take any.
“Pfft, says the guy who notices if his knives have been breathed on… you’d hate to see my room,” you seemed to remember the fact as you said it as you leaned over and started pushing around the things on his bed side table. You smiled at your actions as you could already see his reaction in your mind, meanwhile, a shiver when down Azriel spine. He didn’t even want to imagine your bedroom, the thought made his skin crawl. The one time he was tasked with picking you up from your apartment he saw through the crack in your door that you had clothes, shoes, books, and a bunch of random nick-nacks and toys strewn about haphazardly. “And I prefer to use the term messy. Not dirty.”
He was crossing the floor to the closet to grab his night sack when stopped to readjust his night table and he cut you a glare, “Shoes on the bed is dirty,” he gave you a once over before turning to walk in his closet. You made a face at his back before putting your feet on the bed again and kicking it wildly before moving back quickly as he came out. His shadows danced around you amused and you smiled at them. Laying back on your belly you made sure to keep your toes on the floor as you passed secrets back and forth with the shadows, giggling to yourself.
Azriel pulled the sack over a shoulder and looked over at your ass sticking up in the air, his eyes only lingered for a second but one of his shadows whispered to him, smack it, and with that he used all of his willpower to pull the shadows away from their bad influence. You frowned at the lost of your friend but stood up an asked “Ready Azzy baby?”
He frowned at the stupid nickname, he told you a million times not to use it but at this point he wasn’t sure if you even knew his real name. Looking you over clocking your attire he realized you didn’t have any belongings with you other than a small over the shoulder bag and his face morphed into a smirk at the thought of you sleeping on the ground. Your eyes shone at his reaction as he leaned towards you a whispered, “Don’t call me that.”
You shivered at his proximity and said, “Sir yes sir,” he leaned back and you bit your lip as he rounded you and walked toward the door, “I do as I’m told,” your tone was suggestive and his shadows tore from his grip to dance around your waist.
He didn’t turn but you could hear the smirk on his voice, “What if I told you to keep quiet for the rest of the trip?” He knew you would have some quick quip as to why you wouldn’t but alas a boys gotta try.
The suggestiveness lingered as you said, “Well then I might misbehave,” the shadows found your response amusing as they twisted up your torso but Azriel just responded with the shake of his head.
Now here you both were climbing up the Northwood mountains in search of a cave entrance, you had found two already but a quick sniff told you that it didn’t have what you were looking for. The flight was bearable, you didn’t talk much but when you did he would just fly faster so the wind would drown out your voice, you caught on and opted to spend the flight quietly leaning your head on his shoulder.
Being completely honest you liked Azriel but after your first meeting you knew he didn’t like you and never would, so the quips started off as a defense mechanism but you realized his shadows liked you and they seemed to love your teasing and playfulness so you settled for that; it also helped that Az looked so cute when he’s angry.
If Az was being honest he didn’t totally hate you, you were cute and your wit was unmatched but it was so much easier to act uninterested and distant.
At some point during your hike you were asking Az if he had heard the song that had been looping in your head, “Have you ever heard ‘Pl-“ was cut off by a swift no. You rolled your eyes and droned on and on about how you loved it and it was so amazing. You gave him a sample of what the song sounded like but since their wasn’t any lyrics you were just making noises with your mouth, you definitely weren’t doing the song justice and you knew he would find it terribly annoying but you couldn’t help yourself. You were just about to stop when he sent his shadows to muffle your voice and the act alone fueled you conviction so you kept going.
He had to use his entire mental capacity to force his shadows to quiet you, they didn’t want to because for some unholy reason he couldn’t discern, they liked the sound of your voice. They liked you in general but then again you were the only other person in the world who would talk and interact with them.
The mumbling stopped and he thanked the mother herself as he recalled the shadows that were quieting you but when he didn’t hear your footsteps he whipped around to scan the scene. For a brief second he thought with his luck you might have fallen over the side of the mountain, and he questioned whether that would be good luck or bad.
Instead you were face down in the dirt, he almost laughed at you splayed out on the ground like a starfish but stifled it and he walked over and nudged your arm with his foot. You rolled onto your back and stared directly at the sky, “I fell,” you said simply.
He bit back his laugh again, “Yea?”
“I was wondering how long it would take the Spymaster of the night court to notice, turns out 11 seconds.” He looked off into the distance so you wouldn’t see his smile, regaining control he looked back down but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eye.
He shrugged down at her, “I guess your little friends didn’t see fit to tell me.” You sighed as you held out her hand, Az didn’t put much effort in trying to lift you but when you were dead weight he pulled harder. In that half second that he put all his force into pulling you up you brought your foot to his chest and pushed him over your head causing him to hit the ground with a thud.
You laughed heartily and he just stared at the sky listening to the sound. “Good one,” his voice was flat and that made you laugh harder. Rolling over you propped yourself up with your arms to witness the damage, it was his turn to be splayed like a starfish and you laughed so hard you thought your stomach would bust.
He tilted his head back to catch a glimpse and your smile was so broad he wondered if your cheeks hurt. He turned back to the sky and clocked the myriad of colors that dusted it, he had probably about an hour until sunset. He also propped himself up and scanned his surroundings once again, his shadows read his mind and told him this was as good of a place he would find to make camp. “It’s getting late, we should probably set up camp for the night.”
You moved to sit with your legs crossed and face the man who had his back to you. “Okay! What should I do?” Your not a camper, in fact you’ve never slept outside of a well established shelter with heating and cozy beds. For some reason when Rhys told you the trip would be overnight it didn’t even cross your mind that you would be sleeping outside.
“How about you just sit there and look pretty,” Az said as he got up and dusted himself off. You smiled at that, not only was it as close to a jest as he’s ever gotten but it’s also the closest to a compliment.
“Well I can definitely do that,” you leaned back onto the ground using our arm as cushions as watched the clouds glow as they moved across the painted sky. Azriel got to work, he collected sticks and logs to build a cozy little fire and catching a couple of small rabbits for food. He rummaged through his sack to pull out a pan and a pack of veggies to heat up with the meat before he pulled out his sack and tossed it to the side to unfold later.
When you smelled the food cooking you perked up and moved to crouch next to him and watch; you hadn’t even realized you were hungry until the smell hit. He looked at you out of the side of his eye, you were practically drooling as you stared at the food meant solely for him.
“I take it you didn’t pack any food,” he knew you didn’t, that’s why he caught the extra rabbits, he practically had magical foresight when it came to you. A vision of you begging for some of his food had him laughing to himself as his shadows did the hard work of catching the small creatures.
You purses your lips in thought before, “Oh!” You rummaged through your small bag and pulled out a baggie mixed with nuts, berries, and chocolates. “I brought trail mix, I’ll share if you do,” you sung the last part as you shook the baggie near his face.
He pushed the bag away lightly while shaking his head, “Fine. But I only like the chocolates,” it was a lie, he liked nuts and berries too but he had a feeling the chocolates were your favorite part so he opted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You grunted as you plopped down on your butt and mumbled a fine, whatever mostly to yourself. He smiled knowing you couldn’t see it as he finished cooking.
You two mostly ate in silence other than you offering up random facts about whatever popped in your head like how wombats poop squares or how peanuts can be used to make explosives. Azriel just nodded at whatever you said not admitting out loud what he didn’t know or what he found interesting. He offered you some of his water which turned out to be a mistake as you drank over half of it, he thanked his gift of foresight that told him to pack multiple canteens.
When you guys finished eating you both brushed your teeth with what was left of the water and Azriel was glad you at least packed your toothbrush even though you forgot toothpaste. Twilight was upon you when you finished, he rinsed off the dirty pan with the second canteen and shoved it to the bottom of his bag before rolling out his sleep sack. The corner of his eye caught you watching, awkwardly sat on your hands, lips pursed like you wanted to speak but were holding yourself back.
“Don’t even ask,” he said without looking at you as he slipped off his boots and the top layer of leather to reveal a tight fitted gray long sleeve.
“Oh come on! You don’t even have a second blanket?” When Az shook his head you groaned heavily, he made a slick comment about preparing better for overnight trips and you shook your head as you pulled your knees in close. “I didn’t know we’d be sleeping outside, I guess I assumed we’d have beds out here.”
“Oh yea,” Az said he climbed in, “Most mountains have rooms you can rent out, with heating and plumbing too. This one must just be defective.”
You couldn’t even be mad, he was making jokes, for the first time since you met him. All of your chipping must’ve cracked his icy exterior enough to make him open to shoot quips back at you. You thought about what else you might be able to pull from him as you curled into yourself on the hard ground with only your arm as a pillow.
It didn’t take long for the temperature to drop after the sun was completely gone and with the wind picking up the now small fire wasn’t doing much to help. Azriel couldn’t get to sleep, not with his shadows buzzing in his ear, she’s freezing, her lips are turning blue, she can’t feel her fingers. Not to mention your teeth chattering so hard he thought he would soon hear a crack. He got up and moved over to where you were attempting and failing to sleep and nudges your arm with his foot.
You rolled over to look at him and your lips were in fact tinged with blue, part of him felt bad at the sight as he purposely left his blankets just to spite you. “Go sleep in my sack.”
“Are you sure, what about you?” You sat up and looked at him to make sure he was serious, the light from the moon that shone on his face didn’t illuminate any semblance of a joke.
“I’ll be fine. It’s like you always say, I’m super hot,” you laughed at his words as you quickly moved to his sack.
“Thank you Azzy baby!” You called as you slipped off you shoes and windbreaker before sliding in, it was warm and it smelled like him and you let out a soft moan as you instantly felt warmer.
Az had wrapped his wings around himself in an attempt to make a barrier and the more he sat there the worse he felt for leaving you to the elements. You knew that despite what he said he would be just as freezing as you just were and you debated for a few minutes before speaking.
“You know this sack is big enough for two people,” you knew he was awake but when he didn’t answer you tried again, trying your hardest not to sound like a desperate creep, “I’m just saying, body heat will reduce the amount of heat loss. Survival 101.”
Az was freezing but he sat for a second as he debated whether or not to climb into that sack, how annoying could you be in your sleep? When a gust of wind blew against his back he just said screw it and silently made his way to you. He kicked off the untied boots before climbing in with you.
You kept your self from immediately scooting towards his warmth and let him get comfortable first. In a true gentlemanly fashion he offered his arm as a pillow and you silently swooned as you accepted it, he also brought he wing down over your body and it acted like a second blanket. Snaking your arms around his waist you tangled your legs with his and to your suprise he never stoped you or pulled away, in fact his other arm was secured around your middle. With his warmth and his smell shrouding you, you fell asleep quick and easy, much better than any bed.
Az didn’t sleep so easy, your body pressed to him was indeed keeping him warm but he wasn’t used to sleeping with someone like this. He had his share of lovers but he was never a cuddler and it didn’t help that you moved around a lot in your sleep, kicking him occasionally. With the moon higher above your heads he looked down at your sleeping face.
Though you still were finding a way to annoy him in your sleep, your state had him softening. Your skin looked so soft and pristine in the light from the moon and the hair pooled around your head glowed like a halo. You plump lips were slightly parted and you produced a light snore that had Az smiling to himself. He brought a scarred hand to caress the skin on your cheek while the arm that you layed on bent so he could twirled your hair, you let out a happy moan at the contact and he smiled as his hand took on a mind of its on. Trailing you from your cheek to your jaw, down the column of your neck and back up to swipe the soft skin of your lips.
You shifted and turned, he brought his hand back afraid he woke you, but when you just nuzzled your face deep into his chest he felt his heart jump. You inhaled his scent deeply and that seemed to settle your restlessness, his jumping heart felt a tug and he froze for a second. Looking down at you he couldn’t believe it, he felt around his heart and it wasn’t snapped but he was sure it was there.
“No,” he breathed as he looked at you wrapped around his body, “no way.” His shadows seemed excited by the revelation as they chanted yes, yes, yes, like they already knew. He wondered if the bond snapped for you already and that’s what you had been whispering to his shadows about, the thought made him shiver. He had been so cold and distasteful, you were a good fae and deserved better than that, you deserved a male who laughed at every stupid joke.
You registered his shiver in your sleep pulling him tighter to you and the simple thoughtless action made his eyes prickle. He held you tightly, memorizing the way your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. He held back his tears by inhaling your scent of honeysuckle and roasted wood, with a gentle kiss on your brow he closed his eyes and promised his nosey shadows that he would be nice tomorrow.
-
Az was still asleep when you woke up, you didn’t want to move and even if you did you were trapped by his strong arm and wing. But you were content to stay like this forever, gazing up at his sleeping face. His tan skin was smooth and his nose and cheekbones were decorated with freckles, you brought your hand up to hover over his face, ghosting over the lines and ridges. His hair was tousled from sleep, falling like dominoes across his forehead and his plump lips were pouting . You let out a deep sigh as you pulled your hand back, why do you torture yourself this way. You wiggled around attempting to move away from him but your efforts were futile when his arm pulled you tighter to his body, he grunted as he turned his head to nuzzle into your hair.
Your stomach was doing flips at the action and you had to remind yourself he was asleep, the action was subconscious. You pulled your head back and laid your face inches from his and watched him breathe. His long eyelashes fluttered open and the first thing his golden eyes caught was you, the faint ghost of a smile touched his lips as his eyes roamed over your face. You smiled bright at him, “Good morning shadowsinger, is that a breakfast sausage in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
For the first time since you met him he chuckled lowly as he rolled on his back and stretched his arms behind his and, “aaand you ruined it.” You laughed as he watched you from the corner of his eyes and you sat up to looked directly at him. He must be in a good mood because he wasn’t scowling at you, in fact his face had an ease you’d never seen, he was positively yummy in his sleepy daze.
“My bad,” it was your turn to stretch since you were finally free from his iron grasp though his wing stayed splayed across your legs, “didn’t know there was anything to ruin.”
Az brought his fingers up to grab the ends of your hair, mindlessly twirling it around his fingers while you did the same to his shadows that excitedly came to greet you, “Your actually bareable when you sleep, you don’t talk and ruin it.” He meant his word as a joke but something clicked for you. Azriel is quiet and calm, he would probably prefer someone like him, maybe if you weren’t always badgering him for attention he could reciprocate your feelings. “Except for the fact that you’re a kicker.”
You laughed as his shadows danced away and you leaned back against your hand to look at his face again “Yea I probably should have warned you, my sisters refuse to share a bed with me for that exact reason.” When he didn’t look away or move your turned your attention back to your hands, the softness in his eyes was too much and you worried for your conviction. You reached out a finger to dance across the top of his wing which instantly retracted at your touch. He grunted as he moved to sit up, “Im sorry, I didn’t- I shouldn’t have-“
“Its fine,” He shook his head as he pushed the top of the sack off his body and made a move for his shoes, “I just don’t want to hear any more breakfast sausage jokes.” He smirked over his shoulder and you blushed at his suggestive tone, only able to nod as you noted the sensitivity of Illyrian wings. You pushed yourself up and grabbed your shoes as well before getting ready to hike again.
When your teeth were brushed, hair tied, and you finished reliving yourself Az had successfully packed up the rest of the camp as stood waiting for you. You began your hike and this time you remembered to keep your mouth shut, no suggestive jokes, no terrible singing, and no random facts. Just silence as you found another cave that didn’t have the distinct smell you were looking for. “I think we need to be higher up,” You said as you craned your neck to look up the mighty mountain that still lied ahead, “You could fly us up there and we could work our way down.”
He adjusting the sack on his shoulder and looked at you like you had a secret he was trying to figure out, after a few seconds of you shifting under his gaze he spoke, “Its fine,” he followed you eyes up the mountain, “I don’t mind walking.”
“Well I do,” you huffed walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the mountain, “my feet are killing me and I’d rather have a real bed tonight.” You didn’t mean for the first time you spoke since this morning to have a bite to it but you couldn’t help it, forcing yourself to shut up all day was like shaking up a beehive and then telling them they have to remain calm. You were buzzing under the surface but you hoped he would write it off as crankiness. Az got the message and just nodded, he scooped up your legs and shot into the air. You watched his powerful wings that your fingers itched to touch, instead you pressed your mouth to his shoulder and watched silently.
He landed near the top where the safe part of the trail ended and when he started walking without putting you down you pulled back to look at him, “You can put me down now.” He smirked at your words and tossed you up slightly to readjust you tighter against him.
“You don’t want to walk, I don’t mind walking,” he shrugged against you and you wanted to say ‘if you like me just say that’ but you bit your tongue as you were determined not to be annoying today. You just shook your head and put your mouth back to his shoulder, watching the sky over his back. “What? No comment?” When you shook your head he chuckled airily, “Must be my lucky day,” you could hear the smile in his voice and you just closed your eyes shaking your head lightly.
Az had tried to talk to you a couple times, recalling random facts you’ve told him or telling you his own. Each time you would either have a short response or just hum, channeling him and the way he reacted to you. You figured whatever your doing must’ve been working as he seemed much lighter and happier today, that hurt a deep part of you.
Az knew there was something wrong, you weren’t you, but he figured you must’ve been tired or cranky from the uncomfortable sleeping situation and all the walking. You were a scholar used to plushy couches and central air, you were totally out of your element. He eventually stopped trying so hard to get you to talk, he wanted to be good to you and that included reading the signs and not prying.
Eventually he came across a cave and when you hopped out of his arms and smelled the inside you were hit with the smell of rotten milk, you were in the right place. You beckoned him and as soon as he stepped in he started waving his hand in front of his nose, “Wooo, smells like Cass after too much dairy.” You bit your lip to hide your chuckle as you continued deeper into the cave, “Oh come on, that’s totally something you would say, I don’t even get a chuckle?”
Without turning around you just said “Ha ha,” in as stale of a voice you could muster, “Your almost as funny as me.”
Az’s small laugh echoed off the cave and your stomach turned as you memorized the formula; don’t speak too much, make jokes when prompted, keep a cool demeanor like him. “There she is,” he mused, and before he could go on you spoke.
“And there it is,” the smell was so pungent it was like the glass of toxic milk was right under your nose. You pointed up and thought a small whole in the ceiling there was sparkling lights shining through. Marestone despite its awful smell had a beautiful luminosity and many applications, it was embude I’m most magical technology as well as cured to be used in different medicines. The potent material would last for years as a single rock could be split between a hundred different uses.
“Give me a boost,” you said putting your hand on his shoulder and lifting your leg for him, he just looked at you dumbly.
“I’m not sending you up there,” he shook his head and moved your hand.
“Well your not gonna fit,” when he cut you a look your raised your hands defensively, you both knew it was true. There’s no way the big Illyrian warrior with the mega wingspan was fitting through that hole.
“Okay and what happens when you fall? Or the integrity of the cave gives out under you?” He put his hands on his hips in a mock attempt to show sincerity and you matched his movement.
“Ye of little faith,” you said wagging a finger, he just smiled. “Are you trying to extend this trip by another day? They grow on the ceiling, it’ll take forever to find another cave with rocks lower down.”
He just shrugged, “Okay,” he turned to walk away and your attempt to stay cool was thwarted when you groaned loudly.
“Fine, if you won’t help me up I’ll find my own way,” you started pawing at the cave wall, trying to find any wholes or cracks you could use to pull yourself up.
“Okay okay, with my luck you’ll kill yourself trying,” he came over and put his hands on your waist as he guided you away from the cave wall and easily lifted you up towards the whole. When that didn’t work he sat you on his shoulder before lifting you again at the knees, you stretched to reach through the whole and hoisted yourself up, sitting on the edge you had your feet dangling down towards Azriel who kept a hand on your ankle and watched from below.
You pulled out one of the four sealed canister and began pulling the soft rock out of the ceiling and filling it up. It didn’t take long to fill up the first, second, and third canister. The fourth is where you ran into trouble, you’d grabbed all the stone close to you so the rest was slightly out of reach. You pulled your ankle out of Azriel grasp and placed in on the other side of the hole as you stretched your body to reach the stones.
The canister was nearly full when your foot slid, “Are you okay? Can you reach it?” You called out letting him know you were fine and almost done, you moved to grab the last bit you could see when your foot slipped completely and the force dragged your body out of the whole.
Like the knight in shining armor he his Az caught you before you could hit the floor, clutching the glowing canister to your chest you stared up at him in awe. Sure, he would’ve caught anyone that fell but the way his arms were tight around you and his breathing ragged as he searched your face had your heart lurching.
When he caught you it snapped fully for him, you were his mate and there was no denying it. He felt like time slowed and all he could do was stare at your face, memorizing everything he missed before. He pulled on the bond and felt it was one sided and that caused his heart to surge, all of your flirting was because you wanted to and not because of a premature snapping of the bond.
Clearing your throat you jumped out of his arms and dusted yourself off before tucking the canister away. You mumbled your thanks before moving to the exit of the cave.
“Thanks?” He said genuinely sounding confused as he followed you, “No swooning and calling me ‘your hero,’” mocking your voice on the last part which earned him a scoff from you.
“I do know how to be serious Azriel”
“Yea but why would you want to? And since when do you use my real name?”
“Because I don’t want to make this trip miserable for you, and that was a stupid nickname anyway.” You squinted and used your hand as a shield when you stepped back in the sun, Az on your heels.
“Miser- what are you talking about?” He grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him but you couldn’t meet his eyes so you just shook your head and looked down.
“Nothing, it’s- it’s nothing at all,” you tried to pull your wrist back but his grip was like iron. Your breath hitched when an unexpected and gentle hand traced your jaw and stopped at your chin, lifting your head up and bringing your eyes to his golden ones.
“If it’s making you upset then it’s not nothing,” his hand slipped to cup your cheek and your delusion allowed you to lean into the touch, reveling in its warmth. Your eyes fluttered closed and for a blissful second you let yourself believe he cared, “Talk to me baby.”
The pet name had your eyes flying open and suddenly the spell was broken, you pulled his hand away and pushed him back. The hope his simple actions had given you had you biting back tears, “Don’t call me baby. I’m not a child that needs coddling,” you spat out your words like poison on your tongue
“No I’m not-“ he tried to step forward but you matched him with a step back.
“I know Azriel, I know you don’t like me. I know you find me unbearable and annoying. I know you can never like me for who I truly am,” the tears were getting harder to push back, “Today when I acted different you seemed so much happier but that hurts more- it hurts more than your cold glares because I like you. Every since I met you all I’ve wanted is to make you laugh but-“ you were cut off by your own hiccup and your balled fist came up to wipe your tears but his shadows beat you to it.
Like a flash of lightning he was on you, cupping your cheeks and staring with wide, scared eyes. “No, no, no,” his words were soft when he tilted his forehead down to meet yours, your hands instinctively tried to pull on his wrists but he held true.
“Baby,” his low voice called to you and you closed your eyes tight as more tears fell, “Baby please don’t cry. I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” Your eyes opened again when his voice cracked and you could see he had his own tears he was fighting to keep at bay. You never thought you would see him look so sad, so broken.
“I was so mean to you, I tried to block you out and push you away because you’re everything I’m not. Your bright and fun and so damn happy, I couldn’t figure out what you saw in me and the fact that you even liked me so brazenly made me hate you- but not because of you or who you are but because of me and all of the shit I’ve spent centuries running from.
“You are not the one who has to change, I am. I’m so so sorry I ever made you feel like the real you wasn’t good enough, it’s so much more than enough. I’ll spend forever proving it to you.”
Tears were still clouding your vision so you blinked quickly to let them fall before you brought your hands to his face, moving your head back so you could inspect him. He was serious, and that made your heart jump like it was trying to leave your chest and fly into his. You just shook your head when you brought his lips down to yours.
It was like throwing fresh meat to starving lions, the originally soft kiss dissolved into a mess of frenzied passion and primal hunger. His hand tangled into your hair pulling your head in while the other pressed your bodies together firmly before tracking the curves of your body. Your hands were just as wild as they moved between pulling the hair on his nape to clawing his shoulders and neck. When his tongue darted out to swipe across your bottom lip, it snapped.
You flew back out of his grasp and stared as your one hand felt the lips that were now swollen and the other was on your heart that was now being pulled towards the man in front of you- to your mate. Azriel was your mate. You almost didn’t believe it, tugging on the bond to make sure it was real. A laugh left your lips when he tugged back, twice. Stepping back into his arms you kissed him again, slower this time as you memorized the way your lips molded together.
“You’re my mate,” you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He smiled down and nodded, you were grinning like a kid in a candy store. From the moment you met him he was all you ever wanted and now you could feel the bond that tied your hearts together, the string that always pulled you to him even before you knew of its existence. You wished you could find the mother and thank her personally for the blessing that was looking down at you with pure unbridled love and sending his feelings of adoration down the bond.
“That is if you’ll have me,” his arms circled your waist and his nose moved to the column of your neck, brushing up and down as he breathed you deep into his lungs. He hummed lightly before going on, “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?”
You smiled to yourself, “I don’t know Azzy baby, I think you’re going to have to make it up to me.” A playful growl bubbled up as he lightly nipped your throat, earning him a surprised yelp.
You ended up feeding him some of the trail mix you made and the frenzy kicked in at your newly accepted bond. It’s safe to say you two didn’t make it home that night, or any night for the next month as you basked in the joys of being mated.
A/N: AHHHHHHHHHH my first fic😭
It felt a little rushed and slightly juvenile but I had so much fun writing her. I hope if you enjoyed it and if you hated it… no you didn’t tf?
Lols but srsly I love genuine feedback and if you got this far I LOVE YOU!!
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
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Part Two
Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking. 
There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees. 
People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High. 
This though? This was neither of those things.
No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet. 
Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.
That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier. 
Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either. 
Except of course, for Eddie. 
“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much. 
(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.) 
“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning. 
A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him. 
“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.
Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense. 
And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass. 
Even in his current, beaten to shit state. 
Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless. 
“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet. 
Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard. 
Particularly not by any invading jocks. 
“What were you thinking!?”  Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly.  “You didn’t even talk to us first!”
“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form. 
“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”
 Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him. 
He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. 
“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”
“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by. 
“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.” 
Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along. 
It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face. 
“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?” 
Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”
“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.” 
“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face. 
As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation. 
“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name. 
“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.” 
Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh. 
“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper. 
“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.” 
“Flinching.” Gareth repeated. 
“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.” 
“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation. 
“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.” 
Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening. 
The flinching. 
Not going with his parents.
Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out. 
It didn’t paint a pretty picture. 
“Shit.” Gareth said finally.
Eddie nodded. “Exactly.” 
Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table. 
“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him. 
“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard. 
“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.
“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back. 
“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup. 
Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”
“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”
“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!” 
Steve looked between them. 
“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on. 
“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.
For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face. 
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norrizzandpia · 7 months
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Used (LN4)
Summary: A bet can do more harm than good.
Warnings: i dont think ive ever wrote something this angsty, its very sad so be warned, lando is a back stabbing bitch but hes stupidly in love, literally stupidly, insecurities, loss of virginity, major betrayal, sad ending but there will be a part 2 bc as we all know i cant do sad endings
Note: im very sorry for this one
Word count: somewhere in the 4k’s
When Oscar got into F1, Y/n promised herself she wouldn’t follow her brother around the paddock like a lost puppy. With cameras all around and prying eyes, she wanted to come across as independent and strong rather than pathetic and small. For a while, that translated, but it got lonely after a few months. Missing her brother as he was busy doing interviews or creating connections, and losing her parents in the mass of people, she always found herself alone. That was until Lando fully came into the picture. He hadn’t wanted to overstep boundaries with his teammate by befriending his sister, but the boy couldn’t resist when he continued to catch glimpses of her struggle to fit in. She was too young to hang out with any of the racers’ girlfriends, yet too old to hang out with the children of powerful people. She was only 19, still figuring out what life was, why she was here, and what she was meant to do. So, overcoming his own anxieties, Lando approached the girl on a rainy Sunday when the race had been postponed because of the wet weather.
“Can I sit here?” He had said, smiling lightly at her as her head slowly moved up to make eye contact with the popular driver.
She had moved over on the bench, nodding quickly as if she was afraid any time in which he had to wait would set him off.
At first, things were awkward with Lando not knowing anything about her and Y/n being too shy to form any words in front of the boy she thought was cute. Nonetheless, after 20 minutes, words were spoken, and conversing became second nature.
Gradually, Lando felt Y/n warm up to him as she realized the driver was someone she found solace in.
Her first friend in Formula One.
Everyone in the paddock began to take note of the budding friendship quickly evolving between the sister and the driver. While people were happy to see a new connection growing, Oscar was weary. It was no secret Lando had a track record of sleeping around, pretending to be close to women for only one night in order to get what he wanted. The women in question always understood the pattern and never found offense or distaste with it, but Y/n wasn’t that mature, Oscar knew. His sister was still naive and her lack of attention toward media outlets played into her lack of luck as she didn’t realize Lando could be around for all the wrong reasons. Oscar did, though, and he made it incredibly clear to the British boy that any impure advances on his sister were not, and never would be, welcomed.
“You pull any weird shit and I’ll have your head.” He said sternly to Lando in a tone that no one had ever heard come out of the Australian before.
“I’m not going to, Oscar. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but we’ve realized we just have so much in common. There’s nothing else behind it, I promise. I just like your sister’s company. That’s it.” He reassured.
And, for a while, that was true. Lando saw nothing else behind their friendship, however, that soon began to change. He noted the way he became so comfortable being touchy with her or giving her impromptu compliments about how pretty she looked that day. Being experienced in that realm of life, Lando also noted the way her cheeks blushed ever so slightly under his eye, and he couldn’t ignore the way his insides twisted at her subtle happiness over him.
They danced around each other and their feelings for some time until a drunken night changed everything. Lando had invited his friends from DJing over, one of those people being Martin Garrix. The men had laid themselves out on Lando’s luxurious couch with beers in hand, chugging away as they gossiped like 13-year-old girls.
The conversation came easily with these people as Martin interrupted and changed the topic to something a bit more interesting, “Lando, I gotta ask. What’s going on with you and Oscar’s sister?”
At this point in their relationship, Lando was still in the stage of denying any deeper feelings for her, “Nothing? What do you mean?”
Martin shook his head as the boys around him knowingly eyed each other, “Come on, you two are definitely sleeping together.”
“No, we aren’t.” He said immediately, not understanding why he had become so invested in protecting Y/n’s image.
Martin’s eyebrows furrowed, “So, you two aren’t sneaking around behind the brother’s back?”
“No,” Lando said firmly, but his defiance on the subject proved to worsen his situation as Martin set his beer down and looked at him with a mischievous look.
“Then, I have a proposition for you.” His arms rested on his knees as he leaned forward.
“What?” Lando mirrored his stance.
“Obviously, you know I have that really big gig next year at The Cabin in New York.” Lando nodded, “Well, if you can get Y/n to fall in love with you, maybe even sleep with her, I don’t know, then you can play it. Play the set at The Cabin.” Martin’s idea made Lando’s eyes bulge out of his head and his body leap from the couch.
The alcohol in his system proved to do its job by impairing his judgment as he didn’t ask questions or try to understand why Martin would get off on playing with someone in that way. All the boy did was scream his agreeance and then excitement for playing at The Cabin in New York.
“YOU ASKED MY SISTER OUT!?” Oscar had screamed in fury at Lando 2 days later.
Putting his hands up, Lando tried to talk down an aggravated teammate, “Listen, Oscar. Listen,” He pleaded, “I didn’t see it coming, really. But, I…” The words felt sour in his mouth as the guilt for what he was about to embark on set in, “I didn’t expect to fall for her, okay? I just did and I hope you’ll trust me enough that I’m not going to play her like I do the others. I wouldn’t hurt you like that and I especially wouldn’t hurt her like that.”
His words seemed to calm the blonde boy as he looked Lando in the eye, trying to decipher if he was being truthful. And, even though he wasn’t, Oscar found Lando’s spewed sentences to be genuine.
“Fine, but, I’m serious, Lando,” Oscar shoved a finger into Lando’s chest, “if you pull anything, I won’t hesitate to find crazy dirt on you and blackmail McLaren into firing you. Trust me, I’m smart enough to ruin your whole career.”
His threats went in Lando’s right ear and out the other because he found his British accent flooding the room they stood in as he said, “I promise, nothing will happen.”
“Is there any specific you want for tonight, my love?” Lando whispered against her skin as they lay in his bed, tangled together after a busy morning of meetings and conversations discussing their announcement of their relationship to the public with McLaren’s PR teams.
She breathed against the crook of his neck as she toyed with his shirt, “No, just excited to go out with you.”
He chuckled as he breathed the scent of her shampoo in, “Me too, baby.”
After nearly 3 months, the couple had fallen easily into the norms of a romantic relationship. Having not yet slept together or fully opened up and shown the other dark parts of themselves, they had a long way to go, but, at that moment, the two were content.
Content with having casual dates, hidden under baseball caps and sunglasses to keep from someone seeing them and outing their newfound connection. Content with the star gazing they had scheduled a few weeks back for that night, fulfilling something Y/n had mentioned she wanted to try.
They found themselves lost in the sky, weeds surrounding them as they lay side by side on a thin blanket to separate them from the rough grass beneath. In a quiet moment with Y/n’s fingers pointing out constellations to him, Lando sunk into himself.
His past few months with her had proven to be a lot more interesting than he had expected. Pretending to be in love with her started to feel less like a forced feeling and more like something he had been destined to feel for her and her only his whole life. The guilt ate away at him, but the love that was slowly consuming him for her trumped it every time.
“Lan? You still here?” Her sweet voice cut through his thoughts, making his head turn to meet her eyes.
He smiled at her, “Yeah, sorry, just lost track of my thoughts, I think.”
Her hand trailed up and down his stomach, “You okay?”
“Mhm, just don’t want to leave.” He nodded, looking at her so she could understand that he didn’t just want to leave this moment, he didn’t want to leave her.
She cracked a small smile, “Oh, me neither.”
A beat of silence went by before she sat up and turned to look down at him, “When did you realize you wanted more than just a friendship between us?”
This question was something he was anticipating and absolutely dreaded because, if he were to tell the truth, he would have to tell her she was a bet with his friends and that was the only reason he had been pushed to confront his underlying feelings for her. Although, wanting his gig, Lando tried to tell a white lie.
“I don’t really know when it happened. I just know that one day I really liked talking with you and the next I just liked you.” Simple and sweet, he thought. That was the trick to getting away with this.
Her blush complicated things and the butterflies in his stomach over her smile laid out the strong counterargument to his mind.
“Hm.” She said as she lowered herself back to the ground.
Lando’s curiosity took over as he asked what she meant by the ominous sound.
“Just that, I didn’t expect you to like me. I mean, you’re past is a lot of picture-perfect models and well-rounded, intellectual, impressive women. Not a 19-year-old kid whose major is undecided as she enters into her second year of college.” Her words struck a deep cord within his chest that he couldn’t not play.
“Is that all you think you are?” He was complicating the situation further, he understood that, but to think Y/n didn’t understand how amazing she was was something he couldn’t ignore.
She shrugged her shoulders, “Well, Lan, what else would I be?”
He was internally shocked at her obliviousness to her own perfection, “‘What else would I be?’ Y/n, what? You’re not just some lost college kid. You’re Oscar’s best friend and the person I would call first no matter what the situation. You’re so much to everyone around you. How can you not see that?”
Her voice came out trembly as she stared at the stars, “It’s hard when your brother’s constantly outshined you your whole life. My parents never realized they had another kid when I was growing up. It was all about Oscar and his races, his success. I never lived up to anything to actually make them notice me.”
His heart broke for the hurt little girl she was clearly entrusting him with, “Y/n, look at me.” His hands wrapped around her jaw to turn her head to the side, their eyes meeting in an intense stare, “Oscar could never outshine you and the fact that you’ve gone your whole life thinking anyone, let alone your brother, has the ability to take other’s attention from you is preposterous. You are the first thing that catches people’s eye when they walk into a room. You’re intoxicating with the way you carry yourself. You’re not just a confused child, you’re you. You are your best friend’s safe space, Oscar’s go-to person to brag about, you’re my favorite person, and, even though you might not think so, your parent’s pride and joy. You’re so many things, darling. Just because you aren’t an F1 driver doesn’t mean you don’t mean something. If it means anything, to me, you mean everything.”
His forehead rested against hers as he whispered the words to her, her eyes closed against his skin as she took in what she had longed to hear since she was 7. Lando’s thumbs rested against her cheeks, collecting the soft tears as they fell from her eyes.
“Sorry,” She whispered as she tried to back away from his hold, apologizing for the wetness that was pooling around his fingers.
However, Lando was quick to pull her back in, “No, don’t apologize. Letting me in isn’t something I’m afraid of, Y/n. It’s something I’m grateful to experience.”
She nodded, at a loss for words as she reveled in his gentleness. His hold on her tightened as he pushed her against his chest, whispering words into her ear.
Words that spoke truths he believed deep within himself and words that complexified the bet he had made.
“So, tell us what’s going on with you and the hotshot driver!” Y/n’s best friend, Paige, exclaimed at breakfast weeks after Lando and she had gone public.
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, “Nothing! We’re just together. It’s not that serious.”
Paige reeled back in her seat, sending her a questionable look, “Really? ‘Not that serious’? Are you kidding me? He took your virginity!”
“Shh!!! Shh!!” Y/n jabbed a finger in her friend's face in response to the loud volume accompanied by the exposition of her situation.
“Sorry!” Paige squeaked, looking around to make sure no one had heard her, thankfully no one had. She continued, “Does he know?”
“That it was my first time? Yeah.” Y/n informed as Paige smiled triumphantly at the girl across from her.
“So, was he sweet? Did you like it?” Paige fired off the questions.
Y/n blushed, being taken back to the night before where Lando had assured her he would be gentle.
He had.
“Yes, he was very sweet. We got back from the date and decided to watch a movie. During it, we started kissing and then, you know, one thing led to another, and…”
“You told him.” Paige finished her sentence.
Y/n waved her head slowly to the left and right, “Well, it started getting intense, so I just let him know. I tried to be pretty nonchalant about it, come off like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the moment he heard it, he was telling me how much he cared about it.”
Paige’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“He just wanted to talk about it, wanted to make sure I wasn’t rushing into anything and that I actually wanted to do this with him. He told me how he didn’t want to screw anything up and how he really wanted it to go well for me, so if I needed him to change anything, I could just let him know. He was really big on communication through the whole thing and, honestly, it made things so much easier. And, then, after we were done, I got up to leave, but he acted like I had just said he wouldn’t ever win a world championship, and then insisted on me staying. Paige, he was so perfect.”
The two girls giggled together as they dug into their food, “So, you’ve let him in completely then?”
Y/n giggled, not having a clue of what was to come, “After he saw me completely naked and I told him about my deepest insecurities? Yeah, I have. I just hope this doesn’t backfire in my face.”
Lando was Y/n’s first love. There was no doubt about that. So, surprising him at the Silverstone Grand Prix sounded like a good idea. However, as she and Oscar stood outside his Driver’s Room door, accidentally eavesdropping on his conversation with Martin, the world proved to her that being there entirely was a horrible idea.
“Mate, I think it's gone too far. I want to back out of the bet.” Lando’s muffled voice sounded through the wall as Oscar and Y/n glanced at each other, matching confusion on their faces.
“No way, Lando. We made a deal. I don’t want to do this gig, I’ve done it so many times before it’s boring now, but for someone like you who has never done it, it’ll be fun.” Martin pleaded.
Y/n could practically hear Lando shake his head, “No, Martin. We should’ve never made it in the first place. I don’t want to play at The Cabin. Dating her for a bet is so cruel. I should’ve stopped it so long ago. I should’ve told you ‘no’ immediately.”
She didn’t even really comprehend what his words meant for a few minutes. She just stood there, eyes fixed on the door, trying desperately to figure out a way to explain away what he had just revealed.
Oscar’s hand gripped her arm as he watched her realize Lando’s true intent. His lip trembled, trying to keep the tears at bay, as his little sister broke in front of him. Her mouth opened and closed before her eyes watered and her gaze was shooting around the hallway in an attempt to find her brother. The fact that he was right in front of her didn’t translate in her brain, which had been in immediate turmoil once it dawned on her.
“Y/n, I’m right here.” He repeated to her as he slowly coaxed her into his embrace. Blind rage threatened to fill Oscar’s body, wanting nothing more than to storm into Lando’s room and rip him to shreds, but, as his sister quietly sobbed in his arms, he knew she needed him more than his fist needed to collide with Lando’s face.
Fortunately, his room wasn’t too far, so they weren’t seen by anyone as they made their way. The tears never ceased, only intensifying once they found themselves tucked away in the privateness of his own four walls.
“I was a bet?” Her choked sobs fought to silence her, but she continued to repeat the words as if it could cause her confusion to be fixed.
She clutched onto her older brother as she willed herself to go back in time and never step foot in an F1 paddock. Her mind raced as it tried to erase their time together and the love she had for him, the love she still had for him.
Hours after crying so much the tears dried up, Y/n found herself numb as she poured steeped the tea bag into the steaming hot water. No longer caring if she ran into him, she stood in the middle of McLaren’s hospitality, still trying to understand when she went wrong.
When she started loving him in the way that she did now. Even after finding out it was fake, his love for her was fake, she can’t stop the way her heart still beats for him.
The way, even after he had hurt her as badly as he did, she still searched for him in the crowd.
Oscar was off doing an interview, something he begrudgingly went off as he wanted to sit with his sister longer, as she made her walk back to his resting room.
Her attention was on the warm temperature that surrounded her face when she sipped her drink, she didn’t see the man of the hour turn the corner nor did she see the way his gaze landed on her or the way he began running toward her, confused as to why she was here.
“Y/n? Love, what are you doing here? I thought you had a test you couldn’t skip?” His voice forced feelings into her body whether she liked it or not. However, this time instead of feeling suffocating sadness, she felt pure, bewildered rage.
Turning around, she met his eyes, “What set do you think you’ll play at The Cabin?”
Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together at her question as well as the look on her face he wasn’t accustomed to.
“What?” He asked simply, not believing she could know.
She took a step closer to him, letting the betrayal take control, “When you play in New York at The Cabin, Lan,” Her smile was sickly and incredibly fake, “What are you going to play? I was thinking that one remix you have that you said makes the crowd go wild. I mean, it has to be big seeing as you went through so much trouble to get the spot. Ya know, dating me for a bet and all.” She took his silence and blank stare as an invitation to keep going, “Inspiring, really, Lando. The amount of dedication you must have when it comes to being a DJ that you would exploit someone else’s vulnerability, allow them to tell you all the internalized bullshit they’ve struggled with their whole lives, and, then!” She exclaimed, her voice translating ferocity rather than joy, “And then!” She dryly laughed, “Take their virginity just to spice things up! Wow, Lando, you have a certain level of determinedness I think society doesn’t address enough.”
His hand reached out for hers, but she quickly pulled her own back to her chest, looking at him in disgust, “Y/n, let me explain.”
Not wanting to look at his face any longer, she turned around, hightailing it to Oscar’s as she heard Lando follow her.
“Y/n, I’m serious. Please, there’s an explanation. Listen to me, baby. Please, I’m begging you.” He pleaded with her as he continued to reach for her, but he was always just a little too late.
“Y/n, I never meant for it to go this far. I though-” He tried, but Y/n was whirling around and jabbing a finger into his chest as she interrupted him with a fiery gaze.
“You never meant for it to go this far? Really? That’s the best you can give me!? I was lonely and you took advantage of that! You didn’t mean for it to go this far? Are you kidding me? You should’ve never even looked in my direction. You’re sick in the head for knowingly taking my virginity! For taking what was supposed to be something special and eventful, something meaningful, and twisting it into some stepping stone all a part of your grand plan to gain a bigger audience for your hobby! That was mine. That moment, when I allowed a guy I trusted and loved to take something so sacred, was supposed to be something I looked fondly back on. That part of my life, my girlhood, you exploited for your own personal gain. Where the hell do you get off? I trusted you. I told you things about my life, about myself, I’ve never told anyone before, and, what? The whole time it was a bet to you? A task you had to complete in order to turn some tables at a club in a dirty city?”
He stared at her, trying to peer into her soul and tell her all the things he didn’t know how to say, but, with all the hurt he had presented her with, she didn’t see him. She didn’t see the anguish he was going through over his actions catching up with him and abusing someone who was completely innocent. She didn’t see how hard he was trying to tell her he loved her and he always had.
“Y/n, it was never that to me. Please, you have to understand. You’ve always been so much more to me. Y/n, I love you-” Once again, she was shutting him up.
“That’s not love, Lando, and it’s pathetic you think it is.”
With that, she stepped into her brother’s room, closed the door, and locked it. Effectively, shutting Lando out.
For good or for the time being, he didn’t know.
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awfcspencer · 2 months
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You're Gonna Go Far || awfc x reader
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awfc x teen!reader
prompt: requested!
warnings: none!
“Foord… will you please… tell your girlfriend to…. unhook her arm from… around my neck?” You struggled to breathe out because of the unworldly size of Katie’s bicep bulging straight into your windpipe. Katie had you stationed in a headlock in the middle of the changing room. You had jokingly called her ‘McCard’ after the Irishwoman had stolen the last piece of licorice out of your package before training. You felt the nickname was warranted but Katie playfully took offense and began to play wrestling with you.
“Babe, let the kid go.” Caitlin hummed out, not even looking up from her phone as she sat in her designated cubby. She was used to the antics the two of you would get up to, when the two of you were together, you both always seemed to find trouble. So today was no surprise.
Katie thankfully let go of your head as you stumble back and dramatically take several loud breaths out, even hurling over with your hands on your knees, acting as if you had just run 100 sprints to really up the show.
“Oh if football doesn’t work out, you have a career in acting.” Katie chuckled as she gently shoved your shoulder.
You mustered up your best Irish accent and said, “Of course missus, anything for you missus” pretending to be Katie, implying that she was an absolute simp for the Australian. Which was so incredibly true, but she wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it. 
“GET BACK HERE” Katie screamed as she began chasing you around the room in circles. Running out the door as you ran straight into Leah. You quickly turn around and use her body to shield you away from an angry Katie McCabe, shifting her side to side as she tries to latch onto you from around Leah.
“Hey hey hey, leave me out of your battles!” Leah told you as she escaped from your grasp. A now more serious look on the defender’s face, “Also kid, the staff wants to speak with you before training.” 
 “Ooo you’re in trouble.” Kyra joked as she stood behind Leah, trying to get back into the changing room because she forgot her water bottle. You shot her a glare, “I’m bringing you down with me if so” you told her and stuck your tongue out as you left the changing room and headed towards the main office. 
The Arsenal staff broke the news that you would be going out on loan to the London City Lionesses at the end of the week. They had made a massive bid for you and were excited about your arrival. You tried your best to contain your rocky emotions as you bid them farewell and headed out towards the pitch for training, wanting to escape the room as fast as you could.
Signing a professional contract was what every little kid dreamed of growing up and playing football. You were incredibly lucky to be able to have achieved your dreams, especially at a club with such a history like Arsenal. Growing up in the Arsenal youth academy, it was really all you knew. The Arsenal girls were at first mentors and role models and now you considered them family. You put in the work on and off the pitch and it had paid off. You signed your first contract at age 19 and each day in training you grew as a player. 
When the ACL squad had gone out, you were able to get some professional experience on the pitch, but with many of the players returning and Arsenal leveling up during the transfer windows, you had been sidelined for the most part. But Arsenal was your home. The red and gold badge meant so much more to you.
North London is your home. Meadow Park is your home. The Emirates is your home.
Temporary.
Temporary.
Temporary.
It was the only thing running through your mind. The loan was temporary. You will eventually return back to Arsenal, return back home. You would prove to your parent club that you deserved to be here. That you deserved to play here. 
“How come the kid can be late but when I’m late I have to run extra laps.” Katie joked and many of your teammates laughed as you ran onto the pitch a few minutes late after your meeting. You tried to fake a laugh, it was inherently funny, but you were focused on something much bigger. No one caught onto your act, or at least that is what you thought, trying to be extra convincing as you didn’t need the extra pestering at the moment. But Leah immediately saw through you. You had given her the same laugh when she would show you a TikTok that you saw 3 weeks ago, or when she would try and use ‘gen-z slang’ but fail terribly. It would then lead you to repeatedly call her an old woman although she was only a few years older than you. She decided to let it pass. She didn’t want to bring it up in the middle of training, but she made a mental note to ask you about it later.
At training, your mind was completely somewhere else. Your shots on goal were subpar and your passes were extremely inaccurate. All you could focus on was the impending loan and leaving your home. 
“Watch out!” Beth yelled out as her ball narrowly missed your head by mere inches as you weren’t paying attention. You were physically present on the pitch, but mentally and emotionally you were so far gone. 
Being on loan was never a good feeling, but it gave you the opportunity to grow your game and get solid minutes on the pitch. It was going to be beneficial to get match experience under your belt instead of warming the end of the bench, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
It was ripping you away from where you belonged, where your teammates, who were now family, were.
“Kid, are you with us?” Viv's question takes you out of your trance. She can tell by the way your eyes were glazed over, or perhaps by the ball that almost sent your head clear off your shoulders. She saw your eyes the same way when you would watch Love Island on the coach to away games and she would try to talk to you, and you wouldn’t even realize.
“Yeah yeah, all good.” You lied, hoping the way your voice dropped would be unnoticed by the Dutch woman. 
You belonged in Arsenal red. The Arsenal women are your family. You couldn’t even begin to fathom leaving or playing for another club. 
Your answer seemed to suffice her as you ran off to get the ball Beth had sent way off the right side of the pitch. As you walked back, you surveyed the scene. 
First, you saw Leah. You lived with Leah when she graciously opened her home to you when you first signed, not wanting you to be alone at such a young age yet. She told you that she ‘saw herself in you’ after she had come and watched one of the academy games that you had scored at and gave the small crowd a badge tap. She bled Arsenal through and through, and that mindset was passed down to you. You were a true Gooner deep down to your core. 
Then you saw Kim. Kim was like a mother figure for you on and off the pitch. She captained you hard, but it was only because she knew you could measure up to her strict standards. She was the first one to congratulate you on a good training session or a solid game, but also the first to give you advice on how to improve your game. 
Then it was Viv. Viv was always who you turned to for advice. She knew what it was like to sign a professional contract at a young age and knew how tough it could be. You had made a good name for yourself and there were several expectations put on you, both from the public but also yourself. She always managed to say the right thing and help you calm down from the stressful nature of the sport. 
When you wanted to escape the serious part of professional football, you always found yourself goofing off with Kyra or Vic. Kyra, Vic, and you were designated the “annoying younger sisters” and the three of you gladly accepted the role. Hiding matchday kits, spraying teammates with water, or playing little pranks on the girls, it was always one of you three behind the action, or sometimes all three of you worked together to terrorize the girls.
You had made several strong connections with every single girl. They were your sisters/mothers/best friends. You couldn’t even begin to imagine leaving them. They were your family. 
A new location, a new team, and new teammates, it was terrifying.
You had decided to keep the loan a secret for now, it was too much to think about right now, and you were both nervous and scared. The secret was kept for roughly 2 hours because at lunch, sat across from Alessia, she had asked you to go with her to a new restaurant next week that she had been dying to try. 
“I’m uh going on loan” was merely breathed out in a hushed whisper. It was the first time you had said it out loud, suddenly becoming real. You were leaving. 
“Sorry didn’t catch that, what?” Alessia asked, assuming she had simply just heard you wrong and you didn’t just say that you were going on loan. 
“London City Lionesses, loan, next week.” You told her as you stared down at your food. You no longer felt like eating anymore. Bidding her goodbye before she could ask any more questions. Questions that you were not ready to answer. You didn’t want to think about the loan anymore. Walking back out to the pitch to work on a few shots on goal. Wanting to do something to clear your mind. 
Your sudden exit did not go unnoticed by your teammates as they now hurled questions at Alessia. She was sure you hadn’t told the other girls yet by the mere way you could barely say the word ‘loan’. She now connected the dots that that was the reason for your meeting before training, the reason you had been late. She was at a crossroads, does she tell her teammates or wait for you to say something, I mean it was your secret to begin with. 
“You guys will just have to ask her,” Alessia said as she shoved more food in her mouth to avoid spilling the secret, she was never good with keeping secrets. 
Several head nods targeted toward the blonde striker as they finished their meals and made moves to begin going home for the day. Something stuck with Leah though.
The fake laugh at Katie’s joke, your lack of awareness at training, and the way you left during the middle of lunch, Leah was concerned for you. 
Leah drove you every day to training and she was ready to finally go home, but she could not find you anywhere. She searched the changing room, the lunchroom, and the showers. She even interrogated Kyra and Vic thoroughly to see if they had something to do with your absence. You were nowhere to be found. 
“Leah she’s on the training pitch. She has been out there since lunch. I think that is where she escaped off too.” Viv told Leah as she entered the changing room again when she started to recheck each location to see if you had suddenly appeared. Viv had caught sight of you out there as she finished up her cooldown exercises in the gym.
Back on the training pitch, you practiced over and over. Running through different dribbling drills and hitting specific targets on goals, you were dead tired. But your mind was incredibly active. What if you never returned back to Arsenal? What if Arsenal didn’t want you anymore? Maybe the loan was a way of sending you off to be someone else’s problem? Tears began to fall from your eyes, but you continued practicing. You needed to prove you belonged on this team. All of your shots were messy and ill-timed, but you continued to practice. 
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Let’s go home, the car is already started.” Leah yelled out to you as she walked towards you. She was clearly unaware of what emotions you were currently going through, and the way tears fell freely down to your cheeks. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked as she took in your state, pulling you away from the goalpost and bringing you in for a hug, rubbing circles on your upper back as you sobbed into her chest. 
For the next couple of minutes, you stood on the pitch in Leah’s arms, embracing her warm nature and comforting essence as you calmed down a bit. Breaking the silence after your breathing had returned to a normal pace and the tears had stopped, “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. Now shifting the two of you to sit on the pitch next to each other, but she never let go of your hand, intertwining them as she sat.
“The staff meeting was about me going on loan to London City Lionesses at the end of the week. I’m just really scared Lee. I don’t want to leave Arsenal.” You wanted to sob again thinking about leaving, even the mention of it made your heart break even more.
Leah’s more serious face turned now soft as she brushed her thumb along the top of your hand, understanding now your odd character at training all day. “I know going on loan can be scary, but you are going to grow as a player, and you will return back to us kid. You are too vital for us to lose forever. The staff just wants you to get some more professional experience and then come back to us ready to score goals and dominate.” She spoke as if she meant every single sentence, and it was because she did, and you knew that.
“So you’re not mad?” Leah was Arsenal’s number one fan, you weren’t sure how she would take you leaving and playing for another club. 
“Of course, I am not mad. You’re gonna go far kid, show London City your talents, and then eventually bring them back to Arsenal kid.” Bringing you upwards as she hugged you tightly. 
“Let’s go home now yeah?” she asked as you simply nodded into her chest. Pulling you by your hand as she led you to the car. 
Maybe going on loan would be a good thing. You would excel in a new environment, no matter how scary it was, and then return home. You would prove all the doubt in your head about not being a good enough player for Arsenal and show you could play for this team. Play in the Arsenal red. 
On the way home, Leah sent a text message to a couple of the Arsenal girls about the situation and Leah requested a team movie night at her place. All of the girls were immediately on board and would be in attendance.
When you arrived home, you wanted to be alone. It was a long day and you needed to decompress a bit from the loan news and ultimately a bad day at training. You told Leah you would be up in your room if she needed anything and that you would be back down for dinner later.
A few hours later there was a soft knock at your door and assuming it was Leah, you told her to come in. Sat on your bed with your eyes closed, thinking about everything.
"Hey kid, Leah told me about the loan." Opening your eyes to find the Irishwoman standing in the middle of your bedroom. She made her way over to your bed and sat down horizontally next to you.
"I remember when I went on loan. It was scary, yes, but it made me really appreciate what I had here at Arsenal. I worked so hard and I was able to return. I have no doubt in my mind that you will come back to us, kid." She explained to you. You didn't feel the need to respond, instead pulling her in for a hug. "There are some people here downstairs for you too." She whispered in your ear.
Together you walked downstairs to the living room and were met with several of your teammate's family. A majority of them were dressed in comfy clothes, passing around snacks on the large couch that Leah had.
"Movie night," Leah told you as she came behind you and wrapped you in a hug.
You settled in between Alessia and Leah as everyone decided on a movie to watch. Beth advocated for a movie that really nobody wanted to watch as Viv tried to negotiate with her and chose a different film.
Finally settling on a Disney classic that Leah had suggested, knowing it was your favorite of all time, Tangled, and everyone agreed.
The movie night was relaxing and chill until about halfway through when Katie began to get bored and started throwing popcorn at you from her location opposite of you on the couch. Of course that gave you the right to start throwing small gummy bears back at the Irish. A couple of them were a bit misplaced as they now hit Kyra who immediately joined in throwing her own small chocolates.
A now full small food fight happening in the living room as teammates were getting hit with snacks and throwing back whatever was thrown. Katie had left her spot on the couch and hurdled towards you, jumping on you as she battled away your swinging arms.
"Let me go Mccabe!" you screamed laughing as she placed you in a similar headlock from the morning.
Leah just let everything happen, not caring how her once perfectly clean living room was now a mess with pieces of candy thrown everywhere, or how you and Katie fought on her couch. For the first time today, Leah saw and heard you laugh and after finding the sad news, it was all she wanted when she planned the movie night, to see you have some fun and laugh.
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queenimmadolla · 9 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
(eddie munson x reader)
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Summary: . . . In which you show Eddie's forehead some much deserved love.
𝐚/𝐧: 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨. 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫.
“Alright─”
  “Baby, I—“
  “What a way─”
  Eddie broke off again, soft airy laughter escaping him as your kisses rained over his face in a frenzy.
  You had him trapped (he was a willing participant) underneath you, thighs spread on either side of his waist as you bent over at yours, to deliver smooch after smooch to every inch of his skin from his cheeks, raised from how hard he was cheesing, to his jaw—soft save for the barest hints of stubble, his nose and the sides of it, his cupid’s bow, and his mouth (but that’s a given).
  It wasn’t often you attacked him with affection and confined him to his bed, normally that was reserved for wednesdays and weekends, but when you’d walked back into his room after using the bathroom and saw him flipping through a Heavy Metal magazine, sporting a black tank top and some sweats, you’d decided plastering that beautiful face of his in kisses was more important than whatever mind boggling scene was being depicted on those glossy pages.
  The approach had been a little aggressive, magazine pulled from his hands and tossed across the room as you settled in place. From the sparkle in his eyes, you could tell he had no qualms with it.
  You pulled back, sitting up as you admired the flush in Eddie’s cheeks, skin slightly shiny due to his body’s sudden rise in temperature.
  His breathing was a little labored despite the innocence of the occurrence, and he spoke after heaving a sigh, “Cover all of your bases?”
  Your eyes scanned over his face, and while you weren’t wearing lipstick—meaning there was no obvious trail—you knew exactly what spots your lips had touched. Just about everywhere. Almost.
  “Not yet.”
  You reached a palm down to cover his eyes and Eddie squawked in surprise.
  “Uhm, okay… we playing a game now or─”
  “Shhh.”
  “I’m just—“
  “SHHH. Just let me do what I need to do.”
  Eddie held his palms up in defeat, knuckles stroking over his bedsheets.
  Your hand slowly trailed up, moving away from his eyes and lifting the brown curtain of bangs to reveal more skin.
  And more skin.
  And more, until you reached his hairline.
  Jackpot.
  “Eddie, do you know what having a big forehead means?” You asked, thumb stroking over the skin you rarely saw exposed.
  His brows below furrowed, more so in amusement than offense, “That the moment is over because you killed it?”
  “No.” You laughed with a shake of your head.
  “That you’re insulting me by saying I have a big head?” Eddie tried again, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried to fight a smirk.
  “Big foreheads don’t always equal a big head. Try again.”
  “Mmm,” he hummed, one eye squeezing shut as he pretended to mull it over, “I’ve got a big brain.”
  “No,” you started, laughing again when he let out an overtly affronted gasp before you continued, “It means I have more space to work with.”
  You dove down once more, pressing a multitude of kisses along his forehead. There was no planned pattern, you just pecked and smooched wherever you could, over and over again, heart filling with love for him as his boisterous laughter boomed through the trailer.
  His hands moved from their place on the bed to rest on your hips, basking and glowing under your attention. 
  Eddie still couldn’t believe you were real, that you cared for him enough to spend the majority of your free time with him, let alone be so clear and apparent with your feelings for him. 
  He was so very content with life. It had fucked him over for more than half of his times around the sun, but Eddie would go through it all over again if it meant he’d find himself in this exact position every time.
  Eddie Munson was lovesick. 
  It was all over his face, swirling in those warm brown eyes as you pulled away to admire your work. You moved your palm away, though his bangs didn’t resettle over his forehead, they remained sticking up and in disarray. 
  You leaned down once more, this time bracketing his head in with your forearms, nose nudging against his, breath ghosting over his lips. Then you were brushing yours against his—just barely, only enough to have his neck working to chase the taste of you before you whispered into the charged sliver of space, “You do have a big head, though.”
  “Oh, that’s it—you’re done.”
  Eddie flipped you over, your back hitting the mattress as you let out a shriek mingled with surprised laughter.
  He hovered over you, chuckling along as he waited for you to calm yourself. Once you did, you sank back into the mattress and reached a hand up to stroke up his jaw, towards his forehead so you could move his bangs out of the way, adoration clouding your eyes.
  “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
  When you looked at Eddie like that? He believed it.
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lukesaprince · 3 months
Text
Rich Part 17
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Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. The couple come to agreements on their relationship and have their first date.
Warning: None! This is an age-gap romance, do not read if you don’t like it.
Word count: 8.9k+
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There was something about kissing Harry that made you feel like everything would be okay. A comfort or warmth, a connection that always stayed there even though your heart was still mending itself. The physical connection and chemistry would always be there between you two, no matter the situation or what happened between you.
Harry knew how to navigate your body and kissing was part of that. It was such a welcomed feeling too. To feel so intimate again after weeks of hatred and lies. You could read his emotions by how he kissed and you could feel the longing and apology. 
“That was…” Harry trailed off, pulling away only once you two were practically gasping for air.
“Yeah.” You smiled, leaning back in your chair while looking away as you breathed through a laugh. 
“Are you blushin’?” He teased, using his hand on your cheek to try and guide you back to him. 
“Noo” you protested, forgoing his hand and dropping your forehead to his shoulder instead. You were nervous and feeling quite giddy now that things were progressing. You couldn’t help it, really. 
“‘M sorry.” He laughed, threading your fingers together and settling them on your knee. “Actually, I’m not. I love making you blush.” 
“If you’re just going to tease me all the time I’m gonna have to rethink this whole relationship thing.” 
“Now that is offensive.” He tutted. You looked up at him with a smile, finding a similar one on his face. “You’re stuck with me y/n. Can’t get out of it now. We have a binding contract.”
You liked when Harry joked. When he was happy. He was an all-around serious guy. Charming, but serious. So this… seeing him this happy and carefree meant a lot to you. You loved this side of him. 
“Oh really? And what does this contract say?” You mused, playing with his fingers with your other hand. 
“That you need to give me at least 30 days before you try and run away.” 
“Oh at least?”
“Yep.” He grinned, kissing you quickly before looking around to see if anyone familiar had shown up. 
You hated that aspect of it, the hiding and keeping watch over your shoulder for who might be around. Part of you thought it might be easier. If no one knew about you two, you could establish a stable relationship without anyone else’s influence. But it also made things harder. 
You couldn’t exactly casually see each other, not around your home area anyway. Too much interaction would make people suspicious, especially your parents. When you were working with Harry there was a reason for you to be at his house all the time. Now… well you weren’t sure how your dad would feel if you went over for dinner just to ‘catch up’. You never did that with any of his other friends. 
“I wish we didn’t have to start anew like this.” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out to the ocean. 
“What do you mean?”
“Hiding. Keeping it a secret. It makes it a lot harder to take things slow.” 
“I know. But it won’t be forever. Once we’re… once we’re settled we can figure out how to tell people.” He squeezed your hand gingerly, looking down at Archie while giving him a little scratch behind his ear. He was happily lying on the grass near your feet, tail wagging as he watched the other dogs and people. 
“Yeah…” 
You weren’t so sure that was going to go down well. But you were trying not to think about it and get ahead of yourself before you two talked about it. 
There was still a bit of disconnect between you two and you could feel it. The walk back wasn’t awkward per say and you talked in a relatively normal way, but nothing else about it felt normal. This whole situation was so new and you could practically feel the hesitation and nerves from Harry.
Archie seemed to be the safe topic which you were happy with. After weeks of barely seeing the little gremlin, you wanted to know everything you had missed. In classic Harry fashion, Harry shared animated stories about Archie in the way you loved; with lots of hand gestures and detours that lead to something completely random. 
He shared the time Archie jumped in the pool with Harry’s freshly ironed work shirt in his mouth and when he dropped his fluffy toy in his water bowl and dragged it through the house in a wet, slobbery trail.
He was well trained, clearly. 
Harry said that he had been acting out since you returned to uni. Archie had been going to the doggy daycare he went to before you took care of him and always seemed happy with it, until you left him that is. 
At first, you didn’t believe him. That was until he explained that Archie had been trying to escape to get to your house nearly every day. Apparently, he even weaselled his way underneath Harry’s fence once and made his way into your backyard where your dad happened to be mowing the grass. 
Harry had to dog-proof that entire side of the fence, something he had never even worried about before. It was a funny story, but once all the anecdotes of the little devil child were over, small talk took its place. 
There were so many topics that seemed avoidable. If it were anyone else you’d ask about his work and friends, light topics that opened conversation for something else. 
But Harry’s work would lead to Ethan. You wanted to know the aftermath of it all, but it didn’t really feel like the right time to talk about it. Tracey was another topic you wanted to know more about and again, felt like it wasn’t the right time for. 
You thought about asking how Niall and Jed were, but was it too soon to talk about the two people who helped Harry investigate the guy who had a hand in ruining your relationship? Maybe you were just overthinking everything. You probably were. 
Harry could sense this and he was feeling the same. He was good at leading conversations so that’s what he did, but he could see how you weren’t really reciprocating with a lot of questions nor were you chatting as freely as you used to. 
“Y’know I was thinking,” Harry spoke up after a moment of silence. 
“Mmh?” 
“I want to take you on a date.”
“A date?” You repeated, turning your head to look at him. Those words were the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. 
“Yes.” He nodded, “An actual date. Like dinner or a movie or something else. Just you and me.” 
You felt your stomach flutter with excitement and nerves at the thought of going on a real, proper date with Harry. A date. A date where you actually knew what was going on between you and that it was leading to something more and not a confusing, hypocritical night that left you with more questions than answers. 
Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little anxious too when there was so much you hadn’t said yet. 
“There’s so much we haven’t spoken about. Like my parents or the distance or who gets to know about us or anything. Shouldn’t we speak about how it’s all going to work first?” 
He smiled softly, “We can do that on our date. That’s what dates are for, love. To figure things out and talk about what we want.”
He had a point. 
“Yeah, that’s true.” 
“So.” He prompted, waiting for you to actually agree to go on a date with him. 
“Yes. I’d love to.” You smiled. 
“Good. What are you doing tonight?” 
“Oh. Tonight?” Again, you didn’t expect that. 
“Is this repeating thing of yours new or is everything I’m saying that shocking?” He teased, nudging you. 
“Stop it.” You blushed, bumping your shoulder against his. “I just didn’t expect you to want to go so soon, that’s all.”
“Of course I want to.” He replied quickly, before a beat of doubt trickled through him. “Do you not want to?” 
“No! I mean, of course, I do.” You corrected quickly, looking at him quickly before focusing back on the path. “Of course I do.”
“Then?…” he prompted, brow a tad raised while he waited for your response. You kept looking forward before replying with an apologetic tone. 
“I can’t. I’m seeing Lucy tonight.”
“What about tomorrow?” 
Harry was eager to take you out on a date. To actually start your relationship. He felt like the first date was the official start of you two rebuilding things. Of him earning your trust and forgiveness. 
If he was honest, he didn’t really know how to do that. Harry was always so sure about everything and he didn’t have a single clue on how to actually fix things with you. Being honest was a start, which was already going to be hard. But it was a start. 
“My parents are throwing a BBQ so I have to stick around for that then I’m driving back straight after. I’ve got an assignment due Monday and I promised Jay we’d study together.”
His heart sank, but it wasn’t your fault you were busy. This was going to be the reality of your relationship, especially given how far you two lived from each other. 
“That’s okay. We’ll sort something out.” Harry smiled softly, running a hand through his hair. 
“Yeah…” this is the part you knew was going to be hard. Finding time for each other in the first place to even start the relationship building. “Anyway, I’m sure they would’ve invited you. Didn’t they?” 
“I think it was mentioned at some point…” he barely remembers the invitation to be honest. It was one he gained when he walked past your house while your dad was mowing the lawn. He threw it over the fence and Harry replied with a nod, promising nothing like he usually did when one of the neighbours extended an invite. They all wanted him there and he never reciprocated those feelings. 
Harry didn’t really want to go to a barbecue at your house again. Given what happened last time, it was like they were cursed and he didn’t really want to be reminded of running out of your house then having a panic attack on his front lawn. But things were different now and anywhere you were, he wanted to be too. Plus, it might’ve been a good idea to cozy up to your parents a little. 
“So come!” You pressed, smiling at him. He looked down at you, a smile playing on his lips. He thought you were so cute. Couldn’t help it, really. “I know it’s not a date but at least we can talk a bit more. I’d extend our walk but.”
“I know. Your mum wants to spend time with you, I get it.”
“Yeah…” 
It fell silent for a moment and you were a little worried he’d say no. It was understandable if he did considering what happened last time. But you hoped he’d come so you two could talk a little more. 
“Maybe I’ll swing by,” Harry spoke up again, sparking that ounce of hope again. 
“Maybe?” You grinned slyly, catching his little glare and a chuckle that rumbled through his chest at your attitude. 
“I’ll swing by.” 
“Good. Bring the rat too.” 
“Rat?” Harry laughed in astonishment, face expressive and shocked like he’d never heard that before. 
“Yeah.” You grinned, “he’ll be a butterfly rat once I give him his harness.”
“Alright, love. Alright.” Harry bellowed out a laugh. 
//
“I’m surprised Harry is here.” Sherry mused, eyeing him over her cocktail. 
“You know why he’s here. He only ever comes to these things when y/n is home.” The woman beside her replied. 
“It’s too bad, too. He’s so delicious-looking. Ugh, I could just lick him.” Sherry giggled, eliciting a similar response from her friend. 
God, did these women not have anything better to talk about? 
Rolling your eyes at the conversation you overheard, you made your way towards him. He was standing near the back door that led to the deck where everyone was gathered. His outfit screamed wealth, all dark linen with his signature jewellery and tattoos on display. 
His eyes scanned the room, a less than enthused expression on his face until he saw you. His expression changed the moment his eyes landed on yours and you could see his chest rise as he inhaled a deep breath. 
Those familiar butterflies fluttered in your stomach at how his whole demeanour changed. It was an instant switch, like just seeing you made him happier. No one had ever looked at you like that before. 
“Hi, darling.” Harry smiled once you got within earshot. He looked you up and down, taking in your little dress. You had worn it before. He even remembered how taken aback he was the first time he saw you in it. That reaction never changed. 
“Hi.” You smiled, reciprocating the hug when his arms wrapped around your waist and he ducked in to kiss your cheek. 
“You look really pretty.” He murmured before pulling away, causing a shiver to run through your body. 
“Thank you.” Smiling softly, you looked at his feet briefly, you noticed the absence of your favourite gremlin. “Where’s Archie?”
“Oh, he’s inside. Some of the kids found him and you know how much he loves terrorising children.” He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sure he’ll find you soon, though. He can’t resist you.” 
“He can’t resist anyone who gives him constant treats.” You joked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 
“That is true. But he loves you most. Even more than me.”
“Maybe I’m just extremely loveable.” You grinned, moving out of the doorway with Harry so your mum could walk past. 
“Don’t I know it?” He murmured, looking at you intently. You barely registered the words until a moment later, when your mum was already talking. 
“Hi, Harry! So glad you could make it.” She beamed, a fruit platter in one hand and her glass of sangria in the other. She always was a good multitasker. 
“Hi, love. How’re you?” He greeted, kissing her cheek briefly.  
“Oh, good! Happy as anything.” She laughed, clearly feeling that sangria already. 
“That’s good. Can I help?” He offered, reaching towards the fruit platter that seemed dangerously close to toppling over. 
“Oh no. I’m okay!” Her attention quickly turned to you. “Get him a drink baby, can’t let a good man go thirsty.” 
“Okay, mum.” You laughed, watching her walk off. His words still rang heavy in your mind, but you ignored them. “So, um. Would you like a drink? Tequila? Whiskey?”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” He gasped. 
Your eyes widened, “No! I was just-“
“I’m kidding.” He assured, laughing while placing a gentle hand on your arm. “I’ll start with something light, darling. Don’t want to get excited too early.”
“Okay. Okay” you blushed. “Come on.”
He followed you into the kitchen, away from all the crowds and noise outside. You started making him a light spritz, nothing too sweet since you knew he didn’t like that while he stood beside you and tried to take over.
“How was Lucy’s last night?” He asked. 
It was a casual question, but truthfully he was more interested in what she had to say about him than whatever else you two spoke about. Normally Harry wouldn’t care what people thought of him, and he still didn’t. But he wanted to know some of the feedback your friends were giving you on this whole situation. 
If they all hated him, he wanted to try and support you if he could. Or at the very least make amends with them like he was trying to do with you. The last thing he wanted was to cause rifts in your friendships. He didn’t want you to end up with no support system because everyone hated him and your relationship.
“It was good. Maybe a little weird still after the whole Tracey thing but good. We drank a lot which helped, I think.” You laughed, flashing him side eye when he added an extra dash of vodka into his drink that you were still in the middle of making. Harry had a bad habit of taking over any tasks like this. He’d rather make things for you than the other way around. 
“Yeah?” he chuckled, reaching for the vermouth. “Did you go out?”
“No. I just went to hers and- would you like to finish these? Since you seem to think I’m incapable of making you a drink?” You asked with your arms crossed, now getting irritated when he measured out the vermouth instead of letting you do it. You turned to rest your bum against the bench, now looking at him instead of the drinks since it was clear he wasn’t going to let you do it.
“I would actually.” He smirked, pouring the vermouth his glass. Because you had to drive home, you opted for a non-alcoholic version. Seeing your pout, he looked briefly over your shoulder before standing in front of you. He kept a safe distance so it wasn’t inappropriate looking from a distance, but he let the counter hide his hands on your hips. “And it’s not because you’re incapable. You’re plenty capable. It’s because pretty girls should let the men serve them. Fuck the patriarchy or whatever.”
You gasped out a laugh, practically wheezing as you pushed him away to bellow out a laugh. “You did not just say ‘fuck the patriarchy’?” 
“What? Am I not allowed to support women?” He grinned, letting you get your laugh out while he went back to making the drinks.
“That is the wildest thing I think you’ve ever said. And I’ve heard you say a lot” You inhaled a deep breath, fanning yourself to try and calm down. He thought he was quite funny, to be fair. 
“Anyway,” he stressed, stirring the drinks, “did Lucy have any choice words for me? Or about me?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t um, I didn’t tell her about us. I haven't told anyone that we’re actually together, or working through things at least. Didn’t want to until we spoke about it.” You shrugged, looking down at the bench and tracing a random shape with your manicured nail.
“No one?” Harry was surprised, “Not even Jay and Maeve?” 
“I asked Jay and Maeve for their opinions before our walk since they kinda knew most of it, but I never told them what we spoke about yesterday.” You looked up at him, wanting to be honest with how you felt about the entire thing. It was hypocritical to want Harry’s honesty and then lie to the few people who actually helped you through his betrayal. But at the same time, this was as much Harry’s choice as yours. “It feels wrong to lie to them about us, but if you want to keep things really hush I'm okay with that.”
“No, don’t do that.” He shook his head, grabbing some fresh mint straight from the little plant your mum had on the kitchen counter. She was a cocktail freak and mint was her garnish 90% of the time. “I don’t want you to lie or hide from the people who have been there helping you through everything. It wouldn’t feel right.” 
He washed the mint thoroughly under the sink, acting like it was his own in classic Harry fasion. Considering how long you two had known each other, he hadn’t actually been in your kitchen more than a handful of times.
“So you’re okay with them knowing? Lucy and Priya too?”
“Yes.” He assured, smiling at you softly while he placed a few connected leaves of mint on each glass before sliding yours to you. “Y/n, I want you to know that this is not something I want to hide forever. I think keeping it quiet for now is smart because we can just sort things out between us without other people getting involved. But I also think it’s important for you to have people you can turn to for support. At some point everyone will know about us and when that happens, it’ll be good to have people that already support us.”
He had a good point.
“Thank you.” You took a sip of your drink, knowing it tasted 10 times better than anything you’d be able to make. “Maybe you’re right. If it all turns to shit at least I’ve got my friends.” You chuckled to yourself, looking away for a moment. It wasn’t funny, but you didn’t really want to think too deeply about your entire family going against you. You weren’t even sure how your friends would take it. “And what about you? Have you told Niall and Jed? Anyone else?”
“Not yet.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve only spoken to Niall a little bit since we dealt with Ethan but I’ve been giving them their space. I’m not even sure if they’re a couple, to be honest.”
“Oh, you… you dealt with Ethan? How did that go?”
You had been thinking about it a lot actually but you didn’t want to bring it up. 
“Fuck, y/n.” He sighed, “I didn’t want to talk about that today. I wanted to talk about us.” He sounded apologetic and he was. He never wanted to bring up that son of a bitch again around you but it just slipped out without him meaning it. 
“It’s okay. I want to know.” You assured him, flashing a small smile. On the inside, you were a bit anxious about it. Moreso about who else had access to your photos. It was a thought you pushed far into the back of your mind. You weren’t actually sure you wanted to know. 
“Are you sure?” 
You nodded. 
“Let’s sit down then, yeah?” 
You agreed and the two of you ventured outside. However it wasn’t as simple as finding a chair or bench seat to sit down and talk, nor could you just stay inside and chat. When you actually got outside, both of you were dragged into conversations with other people.
You tried to end them, to find a way to get back to Harry without raising suspicion but nothing seemed to work. It took Archie running in with a bunch of kids on his tail, covered in mud since they seemed to be playing in the front garden in the sprinklers to get you two alone again. 
There was screaming, a neighbour yelling about her pavlova she made because Archie ran too close to the desert table and a whole bunch of dirty kids who had to be cleaned up by their parents. It was quite funny actually. You found it fucking hilarious even as you and Harry dragged him to the laundry to wash him off. 
“This isn’t funny, y/n. He dirtied your entire house and you and- fuck. I’m embarrassed.” He cursed, glaring down at his son while he scrubbed him down. 
“Harry, don't be embarrassed.” You laughed, “it was so funny! He looked so happy too. Didn’t you Archie?” He barked in response, making you giggle in response. 
“I’ve trained him so damn well and now he’s acting out. In a damn teenage stage or something, I swear.”
“He’s just a puppy, Harry.” You tried to defend him, even though your dress was ruined and covered in mud. 
“He’s not. He ruined your dress and the barbecue.” 
“It’s fine.” You assured, placing your hand on his. “Don’t worry.” 
He just hmphed in response, not convinced about anything. It was silent for a bit while you both washed and conditioned Archie. You wanted to bring up Ethan again since your conversation was cut short, but at the same time you didn’t want to ruin the peace. 
But then Harry was the one to speak up. 
“Ethan won’t be a problem anymore.” 
Your head snapped to him. “What?” 
“I dealt with him.” He shrugged, looking at you with that intense eye contact he likes to do. “He's not in my life, or yours. Ever.” 
You hated how vague he was being. 
“Soo, what? How did you get him to leave his job? Your friends? What are Will and Matthew going to say?” 
“He didn’t quit.” he looked back at Archie to avoid looking at you. 
Harry didn’t say anything about Will and Matt, because he hadn’t seen them since talking to Ethan aside from work. Truthfully, he was just hoping Ethan would never show up to any social events by his own choice. And if he did, Harry would make him go away. 
“What?” Your brows furrowed. You were confused. “What do you mean? You’re still working with him? Harry-”
“You wanted to know, y/n.” He cut you off, his voice short and eyes drawn in sternness. He didn’t want to elaborate, nor did he want to talk about how it felt to see that asshole every day. Not today. Not when today was meant to be about you. “It’s temporary. But he won’t hurt you, I won’t let him.”
You were a little taken aback by his tone, considering he was the one to bring it up. Even though he said he didn’t want to talk about it, you weren’t the one to ask again. You left it. Only one damn day of this ‘new start’ and he was already making you feel bad, in a situation he created. 
“Okay. Fine.” 
Harry was quick to regret his tone immediately, especially with the way you reacted. 
“Y/n…” 
“Harry.” you stopped him, pulling a convincing smile. “It’s fine. Let's just finish this so I can change, okay?” 
Letting out a sigh, he just nodded and continued to look at you for a little longer. One day… one fucking day and he was already screwing up. Fuck. 
//
“Oh my god.” Jay gasped, stopping abruptly right outside the entrance to your university building. 
“Jay!” You scolded, walking right into his back. 
“What?” Maeve managed to stop before bumping into him because she wasn’t distracted on her phone like you were. 
Y/n: I still don’t understand how you stand seeing him every day. His face gives me the ick
You had been texting Harry on and off since Sunday. He wasn’t a huge texter, hated it, really. But he was the one to start the conversation in the first place and from there you two had just been talking. About anything, everything, really. 
Today’s topic was Ethan. You left that initial conversation about it feeling a little down, to be honest. Harry didn’t necessarily hurt you, but it was a situation you found yourself dwelling on. After he gave that vague and offputting explanation of it all, he reached out again and explained it properly which you were thankful for. You needed the closure. 
It was something you never thought he’d do, explain something like that over text of all things, but he seemed to take a liking to it. He found himself quite enjoying it, more than he thought he would. It gave him time to actually read your response and process before thinking and drafting his own. In person he couldn’t do that.
He never left your messages without a reply for very long. He couldn’t do that to you. Even found himself texting in a meeting once under the table because he didn’t want to miss a second of talking to you. 
It was kinda therapeutic for both of you to talk about Ethan more consistently. The thought of him still made you extremely uncomfortable, but it was helpful to speak about him. Kind of. 
Harry: if ‘the ick’ means wanting to punch him then yes. 
You let out the smallest laugh at his age showing until Maeve nudged you to get you to look up. When you did, your eyes widened at the reason Jay stopped in the first place. 
“Oh my god.” This time it was your turn to be surprised.
“Look. I still hate the guy but that is really fucking cute.” Jay sighed, finally stepping out of the way so you could move past him. 
“Mhmm.” Maeve agreed. 
You ignored both of them to focus on what was in front of you. There he was, the gorgeous, tall dilf of a man standing in front of his expensive car. In one hand, a bouquet of daffodils and the other his phone. He hadn’t seen you yet and seemed to be looking intently at his screen. 
Even though he hadn’t seen you, you weren’t the only one who saw him. You couldn’t blame them really, the girls on girls walking by and checking him out before giggling to themselves. It’s something you would’ve done too after seeing a handsome stranger; a clearly rich handsome stranger holding flowers. 
He took your breath away a little, to be honest. You and Harry were still trying to figure out a time where you could meet in the middle somewhere and have your first date, and here he was. You didn’t want him to take time off work or drive all the way to you just to see you, even though he was adamant he wanted to. 
He agreed not to, but Harry always did what he wanted like usual. So apparently here he was on a Wednesday afternoon looking gorgeous as ever in cream linen pants and a matching shirt. It was only buttoned up part way and though you couldn’t see all the details from here, you could see the light reflect off what you guessed was his usual cross and banana necklaces. 
Divine. 
Harry looked up a moment later then looked down at his phone before double taking when he saw you in front of him. He immediately perked up, a smile forming on his lips as he slipped his phone into his back pocket. 
You were still frozen in shock, feeling those butterflies you used to feel anytime he looked at you in the pit of your stomach. It was nice to feel that again. It didn’t fix that big piece of you that broke through the entire process, but it was nice he was making an effort. 
“Go on, y/n. Don’t leave him hanging.” Jay nudged. You rolled your eyes at him and ignored the comment, finally breaking from your haze to meet Harry halfway. 
Up close he looked a little… nervous. You were the same. 
“Hi, darling.” He smiled, greeting you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 
Ugh, darling. Just the pet name had you getting a little nervous. You were nervous about this entire thing, truthfully. 
“Hi.” You smiled while pulling back and adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “This is a surprise.”
“Mhmm. Wanted to take you on that date.” He mused, looking you up and down a little. You weren’t wearing anything special. It was a hot day so a little skirt and basic tank top was the choice. To Harry, your ‘nothing special’ was making him practically drool onto his shirt. God, you looked good. 
“That’s romantic of you.” You blushed a little, trying to conceal your excitement. 
“I’m glad you think so. Wasn’t sure if this would be…” he looked over your shoulder briefly, looking at Jay and Maeve who were both watching him intently. “Too much for you. Showing up like this.”
“It’s not. I’m glad you’re here.” You looked down at the flowers, noticing that he hadn’t given them to you yet. “Are those for me?”
“Oh!” It was like he suddenly remembered their existence and passed them to you. The fact he was clearly nervous was so endearing to you. It was a different side to Harry and you really liked it. “Yes. They’re daffodils.”
“They’re gorgeous. Thank you.” You looked down at them then hugged them to your chest, finding the bright yellow colour so pretty. They meant a lot to you and you could feel the giddiness display in a red flush on your chest. 
The way you looked at them with adoration filled Harry with so much damn happiness. He wanted to kiss you badly, so badly his lips were practically tingling for it. But he wasn’t sure if you’d want that here in such a public place with all your peers around. 
“Daffodils represent rebirth.” He spoke up, gaze a little more intense than a moment ago. “They’re one of the first flowers to bloom at the end of winter to transition to spring. A new beginning after cold, dark days. New beginnings.” 
“That’s…” you paused, looking at him while trying to find the words from how speechless you were. That would have to be one of the most thoughtful things, the most thoughtful gesture someone had ever made. “Wow. Thank you.” You looked down at the flowers again, playing with one of the many yellow petals. “New beginnings. Like us, huh?”
“Like us.” He repeated, looking down at your mouth. He leaned closer, hand finding your waist in a gentle grip. “Can I kiss you? I really want to but I don’t want to cross a boundary around your friends.”
Harry didn’t care what other people thought and you knew that. You knew he couldn’t have cared less that Jay and Maeve and your classmates were around, but the fact that he knew you cared meant a lot to you. You both already established that kissing was okay, but it hadn’t happened in front of your friends before. He wasn’t assuming what was okay, or going off what was okay when it used to just be you two in his house. 
This whole thing was new. A new beginning as he said. 
“Yes.” You cupped his face, smiling while reaching up on your tippy toes to cross the distance and kiss him. 
He reciprocated the touch and placed his hand on the side of your neck right below your jaw. His thumb caressed your chin and it sent images of all the times it was firmly wrapped around your neck, his fingers dug into the sides of your esophagus to make that delicious woozy feeling flood your brain.  
The kiss was the opposite of that familiar rough touch. It was soft; a little deeper than a peck but nothing too disgraceful for the public eye. After a couple of pecks to finish off, he pulled away, eyes closed a touch longer while a pleased expression appeared on his face. 
“Mmh, missed that. Missed you.” He squeezed your waist quickly. 
“It’s only been a few days.” You giggled, settling back down on your heels. 
“I know. Doesn’t change the truth.” He smirked, “Now come on.” Grabbing the heavy tote bag from your shoulder, the pressure eased instantly as he slung it over his own. “We’ve got plans.”
Sending a quick wave to your friends, Harry nodded to them before leading you towards his car with a hand on the small of your back. 
“What sort of plans?” you asked, loving the feeling of his hand on your back. It burned through the thin material of your top straight to your skin. 
“It’s a surprise. You’ll like it.” He flashed you a cheeky look, clearly not saying anything more than that. 
You liked surprises and if history said anything, Harry was a good planner. Every restaurant was delicious and every outing was fun or interesting in some way. You had no worries that you wouldn’t like whatever he planned. He knew you better than most people. 
“Is there a time crunch? Or do I have time to head back to my place and quickly change?”
“There’s no booking if that’s what you mean. Anyway, you look gorgeous as you are, love.” He charmed, smoothly quickening his pace to make it to the car before you so he could open your door for you.
What a gentleman. 
That action alone had you getting all squirmy. You were a sucker for chivalry and you loved it even more when it came from Harry. 
“Harry, I’ve been wearing these clothes since 8. I don’t feel gorgeous.” You flashed a look of indignation, only joking but not really. He stopped on the other side of the car door, looking at you over the top as you stopped right before getting in.
You were hot and sweaty and you knew he didn’t really care that much, considering he once ate you out right after a walk, but you cared. He looked so nice and you weren’t sure what he had planned. At the very least you wanted to change to a nicer dress. 
“Okay.” He laughed, giving you a quick once over. “We’ll do a quick stop.” 
He waited for you to get into the passenger seat before shutting the door and then going around to his side. It was that adorable dad jog that always managed to get you amused, but you decided not to say anything about it when he got inside. 
“Seatbelt.” he reminded, feeling your attention directly on him. You rolled your eyes and buckled up, watching him doing his right after.
Once you were on the road and driving, you decided to interrogate him a little between directions. It was barely a five-minute drive so you knew you didn’t have a lot of time. “Did you take a day off just to see me?”
“No.” He looked over at you briefly, “I technically am working today. From home.”
“This doesn’t look like your office.”
“Really?” He asked sarcastically, brows raising in faux shock. “I had no idea.” 
“Harry!” you scolded, trying to hide your smile when he looked at you with that dopey, charming smile of his. “I told you not to do this. I hate that you had to take time off for me.”
“Y/n.” Harry sighed, reaching over the centre console to intertwine his fingers with yours. He left them resting on your bare thigh, right beside your bouquet of daffodils. Ohh. “I wanted to.” His eyes flickered between your eyes and mouth. “When we agreed, well, you agreed to give this a second chance we knew there’d be travel involved. Until we get it figured out I don’t mind taking time off to see you. Your school is important and I remember what it’s like to juggle it with working. It’s hard. I want to ease the burden for you.”
When he said things like that… there was a moment you forgot all the pain he caused. How could a man who’d move his entire schedule for you be the same one to flash those cold, dead eyes and lie to you? 
“I appreciate that. But I get days off and I can skip a class to see you. The city is like a middle point for us and I skip classes when I'm hungover or can’t be bothered sometimes. You’re a better reason than a headache.”
“A better reason than a headache” He repeated to himself, “I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Stop” You whined gently, both loving and hating his teasing. “I’m serious. I want this to be even.”
“And I want you not to stress. Don’t fight me on this.” He flashed one of those famous looks of his. The one that told you not to argue with him. It was one he displayed when you tried to pay for something or go against a simple instruction. 
“Fine. But we’re not finished.” You sighed, giving in like always. “So, where are we going anyway?”
After giving him the final turn, you could see your building coming up ahead and you wanted a bit more information so you knew what to change into. He looked exceptionally put together, but that didn’t really give you much to go off when he always looked put together. 
“I’m not telling you that.” He laughed, squeezing your palm. “It’s a surprise, remember.”
“Can you at least tell me what I should change into?” He went to open his mouth before you spoke again, cutting him off. “And don’t say ‘anything’.” 
Harry smiled to himself because that was exactly what he was going to say. But he didn’t want to give away the surprise. “Wear a dress. Something comfortable.” 
“That still doesn’t help me.”
“Well? I’m not saying anything else.” He laughed.
“Ugh, I hate when you’re cryptic.” You groaned in reply.
“Just-” He laughed again. You seemed a lot more comfortable which helped him feel more comfortable. Harry was honestly quite nervous, but he had already mastered how to show that so he hoped it wasn’t coming across too much. “Wear something pretty. Which is anything on you.”
“Smooth.” You grumbled, looking out the window instead of at him. 
He said nothing in return and just looked at you a bit. He still couldn’t believe this was actually happening. After everything, part of him expected that he’d never get to be this close to you again and he was okay with that. It would’ve hurt, but he could live with it as long as you were happy and safe.
Now you were safe and hopefully happy. He couldn’t have asked for anything more. 
Once you arrived at your building, he found a car spot and you were quick to jump out with all your belongings including your beautiful flowers so you could get them in the cool air. It was a quick in-and-out activity. A reapply of deodorant and perfume, a minute touchup on the minimal makeup you wore to class and a change of clothes into exactly what he said. A casual flowy dress and the same sneakers you wore to class.
You were back in his car within five minutes, lipgloss in hand so you could apply it while he drove to wherever he was taking you.
“You look pretty.” Harry complimented once you were settled back in the passenger seat. He let himself look down at your bare thighs for a moment, finally giving him after trying to avoid looking at them the entire time he drove to your building. 
“Thank you.” You smiled softly, “I really like this, by the way. The linen is nice.”
A shiver ran up his spine when you plucked at the material of his sleeve. It was only his goddamn sleeve yet that slight brush of your fingers on his skin had his heart racing. Any touch of yours had his heart racing, actually, but he was keeping that to himself for now.
“Thanks, darling.” He smirked, intertwining your fingers again. He held them on the centre console again, which you were happy about.
The rest of the drive was silent aside from little comments here and there. It wasn’t awkward per se, but much quieter now than the initial excitement had calmed down. 
It wasn’t a very long drive, maybe 15 minutes before Harry pulled up to the nice part of the coast. You were exceptionally lucky with the location of your university. It was a waterfront campus so practically every class had waterfront views. Not the best place for swimming, but it didn’t take much effort to get to a good swimming spot where a lot of cafes were. 
Harry had taken you away from campus and towards that swimming area. Your first thought was a nice lunch along the water which would’ve been very Harry-style since he was as much of a water baby as you were. But when he parked and led you towards the grassy area instead of towards the cafes, you weren’t sure what to expect.
“What are we doing?” You asked, looking around trying to spot something.
“You’ll see.” He smiled, grabbing your hand in his. 
Down here, he wasn’t worried about anyone seeing you two or knowing you at all. They may have known you, sure, but they wouldn’t have thought twice about you two holding hands or on a public date. It was one of the reasons he quite liked the idea of driving down to see you. There was no stress or anxiety about who was watching. 
After walking a bit more, you finally saw it. 
“Is that for us?” you asked, eyes a little wide. You looked back at Harry to find him looking at you with a tight-lipped smile. He simply shrugged and pulled you forward.
“Come on, y/n.”
“Harry. That’s- oh my god” 
You were a little speechless because Harry was pulling you right to one of the gazebos where your eye was first drawn to. But it wasn’t just a gazebo. The gazebo was open without any permanent fixtures and right in the middle was a big picnic blanket decked out with pillows and an assortment of food. 
There was a delicious-looking charcuterie board and chocolate-covered strawberries, little sandwiches and finger food, champagne and plastic wine glasses. Two plates with cutlery were all set up in front of two little easels. Accompanying them were a range of paints, two paint palettes and paintbrushes. A painting picnic date. It was all set up perfectly and the amount of detail Harry went into to plan this just made you feel so appreciated. 
“Do you like it?” Harry asked nervously, stopping right in front of the gazebo.
Harry had picked everything out himself. From the activity to the champagne to the exact food he knew you’d like. He couldn't set it up and have it be a surprise so he had a little bit of outside help, but he put a lot of effort into making something fun for your first date.
Never had he organised a date like this. His experience wasn’t enormous, as you knew, but even in his last relationship, he never put this much effort into a date. Harry wanted something he knew you’d like. Painting wasn’t exactly his forte and he wouldn’t say he was particularly good at it, but he knew you were a creative person and after so much turmoil between you two, he thought it would be good to have an activity that could fill the silence just in case.
So far things were going pretty well, but at the very least an activity gave you two something to talk about that wasn’t serious. An icebreaker perhaps. It was more for Harry, something to ease his nerves if he got stumped on what to say. 
“Like it?” you paused, turning to face him. “I love it. This is so incredible. Thank you.”
The weight was instantly pulled off his chest and he felt like he could breathe again. “I’m so glad. I thought an activity would be fun. Thought about paint-by-numbers since I've seen that online, but this way you can paint anything you want.” 
Online. Harry went online to look at ideas? 
“You went online to look at ideas?” You asked, biting your lip to hide your smile. 
“No.” he defended, looking away. That was a clear yes. “Okay.” He cleared his throat and looked back at you. “Maybe. I’m new to all of this and I wanted to do something nice. Sue me.”
You grinned and clasped your fingers together around the back of his neck, reaching up on your tippy toes to give him a quick kiss. He was initially a little shocked, but quickly gained composure and rested his hands on your waist. “I’m not making fun of you. I love this all and I think it’s cute you put in so much effort for me.” 
You reached up to kiss him again and mumbled a ‘thank you’ against his mouth before settling back down on your heels. 
“You’re welcome.” There was a faint blush across his cheeks and you only found that more endearing. “Now come. I’m starving.”
He led you to the picnic and sat down across from you, immediately offering wine and plating you a few things while you spoke. Now that you were sitting down like this, in such a ‘date’ setting, you were both a little nervous. Excited but nervous. 
Harry felt lucky just sitting in front of you, to be honest. He still couldn’t believe it. The date could’ve been awkward and uncomfortable or the best day of his life and he still would’ve enjoyed it, loved it. Loved you. With everything that happened between you, he was just thankful. And happy. 
The talking came naturally, like old times, but there were still moments where it felt a little too official. Neither of you had been on a date in a long time, well, you had never been on a proper one that felt like this and it was showing. Still, you were having fun. 
You were laughing and proper laughing where your stomach ached and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Despite how serious Harry could be sometimes, he never failed to make you laugh. There was no talking about the past, or Ethan and Tracey, or anything that could sour the mood. It was just fun. 
The painting helped to brighten the mood as well and it did exactly what Harry hoped it would. It was a bit of an icebreaker to help ease some of the nerves and it helped both of you to relax more than you already were. 
What Harry liked more though, was how excited you were for it. You even went as far as suggesting that the paintings were for each other and he could tell you already had an idea based on that mischievous glint in your eye. He had an idea too, though he was far more nervous about executing his than you seemed to be.
“So what are you painting?” You asked, peeking at Harry over your canvas. He looked up at you for a moment, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked back down to his work in focus. 
“It’s a secret. What are you painting?” 
“If yours is a secret, so is mine.” You grinned, placing your brush down on the little paint palette to switch to another. 
“It better go with my decor” he joked, looking at you again. He kept doing that. Looking up and down between you and his canvas. 
“It’s not black and white so I doubt it. But if you hate it you can always hide it in a cupboard” 
“I would never.” He defended, “It could be the ugliest artwork and I’d still love it.”
“That’s a lie.” You snorted, “We both know you’d call it ugly and hide it somewhere. Or regift it to someone else.”
“Y/n” He tutted. “I’d do that to anyone but you. Though I’d still call it ugly. In a nice way.”
“In a nice way.” You repeated, laughing. “Sure.”
He laughed then the two of you fell into comfortable silence while you finished your paintings. You didn’t set a time frame but kept checking in on each other until you were done and Harry was doing his final touches. It was such a nice atmosphere. Just painting in nature with this gorgeous man in front of you. Part of you still couldn’t believe it was actually happening. 
“Okay. On three?” you asked, holding up your canvas. Harry nodded and held his up, the back facing you. Now that it was in the light, you got a glimpse of an outline and colours he had used. They were all shades of blues and greens but you couldn’t really make out what it was exactly. 
“On three.”
“One… two… three.” 
At three, you both turned them around at the same time and you were in complete awe of what Harry had painted. You. And done incredibly well. He had been saying the entire time how he wasn’t the best painter, kept making comments and cursing when he seemed to make a ‘mistake’, but you couldn’t find a single mistake in the entire thing.
It was just your face and hair and you seemed to be looking down with a closed smile on your lips. It wasn’t finely detailed, but rather done in an illustrative way that just made your features pop. Incredible. 
“Harry that’s amazing.” You gushed, basically forgetting your painting to focus on his.
“You think?” He asked, genuinely nervous for your feedback. You nodded.
“Yes. A thousand times, yes. It’s beautiful. I never knew you could paint like that.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. Not really.” He shrugged, placing it back on his easel. “I did it as an elective in college but that was a long time ago. Anyway, yours is much better. He looks just like him.” 
“Mine isn’t better” you blushed, looking down at your painting of Archie. You were pretty proud of it, you’d admit that. 
“It is.” He pressed, staring in awe at your talent. Talent that he’d be hanging proudly somewhere in his home. “I love it.”
“So you’re not going to hide it in a drawer?” You asked, biting your lip to hide a smile. He laughed and shook his head, getting up on his knees and shuffling closer to you. He pressed his fists to the picnic blanket so your faces where in line and you reciprocated by resting your hands on his face.
Ugh… you loved when he looked at you like that. 
“Never.” 
━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━
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rboooks · 9 months
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The Adoptive Son. Part 2
Dick tries his best to keep his smile as Danny Crowne fumbles with his laptop, attempting to show Dick all the fantastic features he programmed onto it.
Don't be wrong; he enjoys new software, and the stuff Crowne made was awe-inspiring. He just wished it wasn't being used for one of his most disgusting crimes.
Babs, who was recently super into coding, had been all but foaming at the mouth when she got access to the new writing application Crowne Industries put out.
Yes, she got access a bit earlier than most since she hacked into the system attempting to find evidence of criminal activity, but she had tested it out and wanted it for herself.
"This writing program has an automatic save option after a certain amount of time goes by." Crowne blushes a little, looking bashful when Dick sends him a winning smile. "I-ugh, I forget how often computers crash, taking with them hours of work, so hopefully, this will help tired college students. It even has a way to retrieve lost files, just in case something does get deleted."
"Wow, you made all this by yourself? That's so impressive." Dick purrs, allowing his hand to land on Crowne's knee. The other man jumps slightly, looking down at the hand like he's never seen one before. At least this mission was easy.
Crowne's had plenty of people flirt with him over the years of his adoption. Dick had watched him at galas, sidestepping any courtship attempts like a well-practiced waltz. He charmed so many would-be suitors simply by his prince-like mannerism, silver tongue, dripping good looks, and of course, very large wallet.
He had thought it meant that Crowne was experienced in this sort of thing. Imagine his surprise at the beginning of the mission; Crowne fumbled through his flirtations and seemed so awkward it was almost endearing.
Danny Crowne didn't make much sense to Dick in this way.
He quickly became one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors and one of the first openly bisexual ones. Despite his adoptive parents less than ideal views on the gay community, Crowne never hid that part of himself. Once he had taken over the company, he had even gotten charities set up to support the gay youths of Gothams. He practically funded the Pride Celebrations, even more than Bruce, which showed how he became the new head of Crowne Industries
In four short years, he had snatched the company from the jaws of bankruptcy and dragged it to the top again. Everything they made was so revolutionary, even Bruce had been tempted to ask Crowne to join him for the first two years.
Back then, Dick had thought Crowne was weird.
All the guy did was talk about tech, and when he wasn't, he was staring into space or attempting to get into different equipment so he could take it apart and figure it out.
Crowne had been invited to his birthday party a few months after his adoption. Dick had seen him arrive, but he vanished from the room not long after- at the time, he didn't blame the other. The rest of their classmates were snobbish and a pain to be around- he later found Crowne pulling out one of his light sockets to check the wiring in Bruce's house.
It may have been the cheap light he was using, but Dick swore he had seen the guy's eyes glowing while he muttered to himself in an unknown language.
The Crownes had been mortified, forcing Crowne to apologize profoundly for ripping Bruce's things. Bruce had to play his part of Brucie, so he had laughed it off, asking the boy why he had done it in the first place.
" I meant no offense. I apologize for allowing my curiosity to cross a line. I was only interested in how advanced your home is. I figured the Wayne's would indicate where the world's leading systems would be." Fourteen-year-old Danny Crowne had told Bruce with a sweet smile that was far too wide and eyes that were far too bright.
It creeped fourteen-year-old Dick out so much he actively avoided the adoptive son of the Crowne for the last four years.
Now he wishes he had paid a little more attention. Maybe then he would have caught on to Crowne selling street kids on the black market.
"It's nothing, really." Crowne laughs nervously, flushing read as Dick gently rubs his knee. He smirks inwardly as the other man fumbles. "I couldn't have done it without Tim so-"
"Tim?" That's a new name. Dick quickly pressed the recording device that Bruce had installed into his bracelet. He hated that he was working with his ex-mentor again, but this was too big of an issue to allow his hurt feelings to get in the way. There were so many kids at stake.
"Tim Drake. His parents are out of the country a lot, so I started babysitting him when he was eight. He's thirteen now, but I got temporary guardianship of him when I turned eighteen. He's my pride and joy. " Crowne clarifies with a growing smile. Dick wanted to punch his teeth in for acting so loving, so caring, so fucking kind when it came to children.
He swallows the urge with incredible difficulty. "He sounds great."
He did know Timothy Drake, actually. The boy was his neighbor for years but didn't stand out much. He always looked like a little doll at the galas, vanishing from sight once his parents' backs were turned.
Dick often thought the boy was out of the country with his parents, primarily when they enrolled him in homeschool when he turned eight.
To think the Drakes were working on making a good relationship with Crowne since he first showed up, and no one within the Bats noticed. It was a little troubling.
Were the Drakes involved with the trafficking ring? Were the world trips just a means to smother out poor victims? Were they using their son, or was Tim Drake part of the scheme?
More questions and not enough answers.
"Y-you could meet him if you want," Crowne coughs, playing with a specialized keyboard- it was so flat. Dick had never seen a slimmer design- his face was a lovely red hue. "I have him for this month, so he's back at my apartment with his babysitter."
Perfect an opening.
"Mr. Crowne, are you inviting me back to yours?" Dick asks, allowing his voice to turn husky with sinful promise.
Crowne face turns even redder. "I didn't mean to assume, but...ugh, are you hitting on me?"
Dick almost laughs.
"I am." He says even as he thinks If only you weren't a scum bag. You are not ever going to get this lucky, you disgusting pig.
"Thank the Ancients. I was worried I may have interpreted your intentions. I would be honored if you accompanied me home-but, not for sex! I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to sex at a later date-just dinner? I can cook." Crowne closes his eyes as if pained, and Dick wishes he was the person he was pretending to be.
Oh well.
They all have their own masks.
Dick just happens to be someone who was bestowed with a criminal. He slips it on as quickly as his NightWing one, throwing an arm over Crowne and placing a tracker on his neck. The bastard didn't even notice. Good.
"I would love that Crowne."
"Danny." The man says with a warm relieved smile. "You can call me Danny."
"Then you can call me Dick"
Dick will have this man rotting away in a jail cell soon. He swears it.
(Part 1) (part 3)
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radiant-reid · 9 months
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Truth
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Summary: Reader knows there’s something going on between JJ and Spencer but she trusts him that that’s just the way they are... until he goes to LA
i cannot find the request for this, ugh !!! 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst)
Word Count: 3.7k
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Y/n had let it go after that night.
"You're not seriously upset about this, are you?" Spencer asks incredulously once the apartment door clicks shut. 
It had been an incredibly awkward car ride together, twenty minutes home in complete silence. He hates when it gets cold and distant between them, even though he usually causes it by neglecting to discuss his feelings, but this time, he's fired up. Y/n can't read if he's dumbfounded or shaken. 
Although often synonymous, there's a difference here. If Spencer's dumbfounded, he thinks her suggestion is ridiculous and totally, 100% wrong. It would be offensive wording but best for the preservation of their relationship. If he's shaken, then she's correct, and he's coming to terms with the significance of that discovery himself.
Y/n sighs as she spins around to face him, her plan of making a beeline to the bedroom falling through. "That was flirting. She was flirting with you, Spencer." She tells him firmly. 
Spencer shakes his head, stunned by the allegation she's choosing to repeat. "She was- are you okay?"
"Don't make it about me." She instructs. 
"It's about you when you're talking..." Crazy is the word he stops himself short of saying- they both know it. He breathes deeply to calm himself. "She wasn't flirting with me." He maintains. "We're friends." 
Y/n shakes her head. She knows he needs it explained to him, simplified to an extent, but upholding his position so staunchly doesn't make her want to do that. "You don't have to best track record for knowing when people are flirting with you." 
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks, his eyes narrowing. 
There's a specific incident she's referring to, but there's been more than a few annoying instances when she's left standing at his side fuming. She's aware he doesn't do it on purpose. Spencer's not an asshole purposefully trying to make his girlfriend jealous by accepting flirtatious behavior from other women, but he's handsome. And unfortunately, not immediately rejecting advances makes it seem like he's interested.
"Spencer." She had told him when she finally pulled him off to a slightly quieter corner of the bar the team was in. "Her asking you what you're doing this weekend isn't her having an interest in your Korean film festival."
Spencer had been much better at getting it since then. He profiles a bit more cynically, purposefully looking for indicators that someone's interested in him. 
Not tonight.
It was Michael's first birthday which, of course, meant it was a big celebration- BAU style. Spencer attended like the proud godfather he was, making sure every single one of JJ and Will's friends knew their son's achievements. 
What should have been a lovely day would have turned into a discussion about them having their own kids when Y/n expressed how attractive Spencer looked while he held Michael's hands so the boy could practice walking. 
But no. 
Instead, they're standing on different ends of the kitchen island, both uncompromising in their views because of more than a few moments at the party between JJ and Spencer. 
"She was flirting with you, Spencer." Y/n holds firm. "Touching your arm, giggling at your jokes, whispering stuff to you." She lists the frequently used tactics that she witnessed. She's become accustomed to them working on Spencer, but he has always admitted, upon later reflection, that the motive was more than friendly.
He can't believe it this time, and he quickly gets defensive. "Just because you don't think I'm funny doesn't mean everyone doesn't."
Y/n scoffs, irritated he would twist it so spitefully to play the victim. "Seriously?" She deadpans, waiting for him to react better. 
"It was an inside joke." Spencer tries a different tactic that only has her eyebrows raised again. He sighs dramatically, gripping the edge of the bench. 
"This is ridiculous." She states. 
"I'm glad you see that too." He argues. "JJ was not flirting with me."
His insolence further fuels her anger. "Even Will looked uncomfortable." Y/n hits back.
"She's my friend." He repeats. "We are their friends. JJ and Will have been married for years. They've lived together and raised a son for even longer. I'm their sons' godfather. She's been my friend for more than a decade. There's nothing malicious going on."
It didn't feel like that. And that was likely because Y/n had only gotten to know them years following their friendship's establishment.
Maybe he's right. It's feasible that Y/n just hasn't found her place in the dynamic. "Are you sure?" 
Spencer senses her walls coming down, and he steps closer to her in a few tense strides, cupping her cheeks in a way that makes her melt. His eyes soften until there's no anger remaining. "Yes, my love. I promise there is nothing romantic between JJ and I." He assures her.
It's so sincere. Spencer has always been a persuasive talker, and it's gotten him out of dangerous situations.
Maybe the deep gut feeling she has is off. There's no way to know what happens behind closed doors, but JJ and Will appear to be happily married. Her life seems completely fulfilling. It makes no sense for her to have a crush on Spencer. 
So she's determined to shake it off- for Spencer, her own sanity, and their relationship. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to such a drastic accusation."
"No, no. Hey, I will always listen to your feelings." Spencer reminds her softly. "I'm sorry I didn't immediately hear you out. It was just unexpected. I would hate for you to stop talking to me about your emotions if you think I'll shut you down."
"Thank you, and I'm sorry," Y/n replies.
His words are massively relieving, and her negative thoughts aren't weighty. "I love you, Y/n."
She smiles softly. "I love you too."
"Can I kiss you now? I've been wanting to for hours." He begs, thumbs stroking over her cheekbones. He's elaborating a little but for good reason.
"Please." She agrees. 
His fingers curl around her head while he leans down to kiss her, not breaking it until they're both out of air. Everything's okay.
And so Y/n had let it go after that night.
She was with him through everything. Dealing with his mom, Mexico, prison, and the long recovery after that. She was with him through thick and thin, even when Spencer had given up on himself. He'll never understand what he did to deserve her love, but it means everything to him. She's the calm presence in amongst his chaos.
No issue in their relationship has been too hard to tackle when they worked together through Spencer's personal problems so well. Nothing between them seemed insurmountable since Spencer's life was so tumultuous.
When he gets home from his case in LA, she's in the bedroom, checking his suit for Rossi's wedding the next day is in perfect condition. The ironing is crisp, not a single wrinkle on the fabric.  
He usually calls out when he enters the apartment door, both so she'll reply, and he'll know what room to navigate to, and so she doesn't freak out about hearing footsteps on the floorboards. 
This time, he doesn't. 
It's like his brain got torn out and is still sitting on the floor of a little jewelry store in downtown LA. His thoughts remain entirely occupied by the previous day's events. Even though the jet home was long, he didn't sleep for a second. It's 7 am East Coast Time now, but it feels like just a second ago, his world got rocked.
"You're back!" Y/n grins, still unaware of the grave news he's bearing. She searches through her jewelry box for a piece to complement her dress. Her final moments of blissful ignorance. "Okay, so I was thinking you might need to nap before the wedding since it'll probably go late- I mean, you know Rossi."
"Y/n." Spencer whispers, trying to stop her from spreading joy and being the life in his life. He absolutely does not deserve that, as he lies by omission. He speaks weakly on purpose, wanting to listen to her excited ramble despite knowing he needs to be honest and say something that will crush her.
She doesn't hear him, and hasn't looked at him hard enough to see his devastation. "But your suit is good to go. I've got some other stuff to do, so have a nap, and I'll have lunch ready when you're up."
"Y/n!" He snaps much too loud. 
Her eyes flick to his, and she knows something drastic has changed. Her stomach drops in dread as the air in the room turns stale.
"What?" She asks cautiously, voice wavering. Her heart thumps in her chest. "What is it, Spencer?"
"JJ said..." Spencer trails off, looking straight past his girlfriend. He's not brave enough to look at her directly. 
No more explanation is needed for it to click. 
Her whole world gets shattered instantly, everything she built with Spencer, every dream and hope she had with him, is destroyed in a second. 
Her stomach stays dropped so low it feels like it's weighing her down and that she could be physically sick. She feels paralyzed until tears start streaming down her cheeks. 
"Oh." She whispers, although it's as loud as a jet engine in the silent room. "Wow. Okay."
Spencer wanted more than that. He wants her to scream at him, telling him he should have stopped thinking he knew everything and listened when she was suspicious. Spencer would take any range of passionate emotions over the silence she's giving him as she processes it. He begs with his eyes for her to tell him what she's feeling. 
It's to no avail. 
He thinks he's getting somewhere when she stands up, that maybe she'll hug him or enquire about the cut on his hand. 
"What happens now?" Y/n asks, ignoring her own tears and his. She always cups his cheeks and wipes them up gently because seeing him in pain pains her. That's how love works.
"Y/n..." She needs him to say more that time. Her soft-spoken name leaving his lips is bad news.
She forces herself to nod and swallow down her distraught tears. "It's okay. I know." It would hurt to hear him admit it, but she might think he's not a coward. 
Now Spencer's paralyzed, watching his nightmare play out in front of him, and he's incapable of preventing it, of making her stay. 
Her delicate, shaking fingers unclasp her necklace, and the 18k gold chain with an 'S' pendant burns a hole in her hand before she thrusts it into his. 
It's warm against his cold hands, a sign it's not where it should be. It's supposed to be daintily sitting on Y/n's chest, near her heart, for the rest of forever.
"No." He finally says, gasping a breath out. "What are you-"
She cuts him off before he talks for too long and causes her to remain so in love with him that she can overlook a massive problem. "You love her." She voices what they've been dancing around. It's an ugly, hurtful truth. "You might be in love with me, but you love JJ more than you should."
Spencer shakes his head, frantically denying the claim they both know is factual. As awful as it is, he's thought about a future with JJ on more than one occasion and during a long-term relationship. It's not that he wants to be with her- which would be a complicated mess and break everyone involved hearts- but something between them remains unresolved. All because of two tickets to see the Redskins.
Y/n speaks before he can, tilting her head upward as she tries to brush back some of her tears. "Don't lie to me, Spence. Please don't." 
He figures he owes her that much. Nothing he could say would fix the torpedo that ripped through their relationship. So he doesn't protest or fight for their relationship as she readies to leave him.
"I'll go now and get some stuff once you've gone out." She decides.
Her stuff which means she's planning on separating everything, and he'll never see her things again. Never mind the possessions- he might never see her again.
There's no point in making a case for her to come to Krystall and Dave's wedding when she only knows them through him, but Spencer isn't sure how he'll be able to sit through a ceremony and speeches and dinner and drinking and dancing- where everyone's feeling the love- when all he would have been thinking about is how it should be his turn next. It sounds like torture.  
Spencer stands there, horrified and helpless, as she slips past him. "Goodbye, Spence." 
And just like that, she's gone. 
It's surreal. 
Surely- surely- the love of his life hadn't just walked out the door and left him. That can't have happened.
He doesn't even feel overly tired, but he must be so sleep-deprived that he's imagining things. Having visions is a less scary thought than Y/n leaving. 
The surreal feeling and eerie silence deepen, and he quickly collapses on the couch from overwhelming fatigue, hoping the past hours have been a terrible nightmare. 
When he wakes and calls out for Y/n, quickly realizing she's not there and his worst fear has come true, Spencer sobs. He cries so much through getting ready for the wedding that his cheeks are blotchy, and his eyes blood shocked as he looks at himself in the mirror. He looks terrible, but he feels so much worse. It's emptiness. His eyes look dull, his hair scruffy, and his heart aches. 
Her dress is still there- dark blue that compliments his suit, but it's matchy-and it hangs in the wardrobe on a coat hanger from the dry cleaner, taunting him. Spencer's hand comes to cup his mouth as panic and nausea rock his stomach. Y/n should be wearing the dress and beside him the whole afternoon while they celebrate love. Something's amiss, and he hopes no one calls him on it because he will, without a doubt, break down in sobs.
Germs feel permanently on him, and he's guilt-ridden. Sure, JJ's words in LA weren't his fault, but- fuck- he should have said something to stop the love of his life from walking out under the wrong impression that he loved someone else.
He makes a beeline for Penelope at the bar to avoid being around JJ and get some alcohol in his system so that maybe everything will hurt less.
She looks pretty, but Will gazes at her like she hung the moon, and Spencer quickly realizes he could never feel that way. Her glances across the room at him piss him off, whereas Y/n's would make him blush.
"No Y/n?" Penelope asks, looking disappointed when he walks over alone. 
That's the reaction his amazing potentially-ex-girlfriend inspires in his friends. People love her for her warmth and humor, and Spencer's sure the team is grateful someone's making him smile. 
"Unfortunately not." Spencer grimaces as he gets the lie out. "She's sick." Or, more likely, bawling her eyes out at her friends because her boyfriend is a jerk, Spencer figures. He would feel worse for lying if it were possible. 
"Oh damn, I have heard there's a bad flu." Penelope easily believes the lie.
"What are you making?" Spencer asks, redirecting the conversation to the cocktails she's expertly whipping up. 
The wedding is small, which Spencer's sure is appropriate for a fourth or third round 2. It feels wrong to be there without Y/n. If he's eventually going to have one of these with her, surely he should be looking at the flower arrangements while she notices hair options. Not judging, just getting ideas.
It would be nothing like JJ and Will's wedding. Y/n would hate a surprise wedding with no choice in decor or food, even though it's romantic in theory.
He could never marry someone like JJ. He could never marry JJ. 
She's a real person. That seems to be a fact he keeps forgetting when he thinks about a future with her. She can't be the idealized version of her from his 24-year-old self's fantasy, and with her sitting no more than 20 feet from him, he's positive she's not who he's compatible with.
It's worse at the speeches. Emily stands with perfectly crafted words, and Spencer's almost in tears when the story verges from being Dave-and-Krystall specific.
"...that this was fate." His running thoughts halt at Emily's words. "...that their marriage was in the stars."
That's him and Y/n. They lived a block from each other in DC but had to travel three and a half thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean to meet. That's fate. He recalls her laughter when he joked that the universe got sick of them not finding each other and forced them together. And the subsequent, love-filled conversation where they decided soulmates, and twin flames, must be real because they are the embodiment of the term.
Rossi is always a high-roller at Vegas casinos. There was no doubt he'd meet a blackjack dealer. It's not fate the way he and Y/n are fate.
He's always been sure she's the one, but this is the ultimate determining tool.
They have to be together. Spencer and JJ had bottled up their crushes without voicing them for more than a decade, and that's why it messed with his brain so much. Emily talking about confessions taking time to work out is not about them.
His fingers play with the tablecloth as he drafts a speech of his own, one that will set things right. He's too antsy to enjoy the rest of dinner or dessert. All he's thinking about is how soon he can leave- of course, after wishing the happy couple well. 
Spencer knows where she is. The doorbell camera already notified him when she had arrived at their apartment, which might now be an invasion of privacy.
It's a bit of a drive to get home, and he's thankful he stopped at one cocktail so he wouldn't do something stupid, like yell at JJ in front of their friends. As mean as it sounds, he doesn't have emotion to waste on her. It's all poured into love for Y/n. 
He doesn't have time to wait for the elevator, taking the stairs three at a time.
"Y/n!" He calls out as soon as he swings open the door. His heart pounds in his chest thanks to his poor athleticism, but mostly because this is the most important thing he'll ever do in his life.
"Yeah?" She replies, her voice coming from the bedroom as she steps out
She looks heartbroken seeing him, destroyed by the damage he caused over the last ten hours, and there's no way this can be how he leaves her, that this can be the last time he sees her.
"Don't say something that hurts." Spencer can tell Y/n's trying to be firm, but she's begging. There is no way he can ever hurt her.
"I won't." He swears. It's tense, and he feels award standing there. "Y/n, I-"
"I told you." She reminds him, referencing one conversation he's been thinking about. She was so good at dropping it after he offered her unknowingly untrue reassurance. Her plan to let him do the talking flies out the window, and she can't help releasing the brewing emotions. "I knew she loved you and hoped you didn't love her back. And now everything is fucking mess, and I just didn't think that you would do that."
"I don't love her that way." Spencer declares, and he doesn't feel guilty because he's not lying.
Y/n rolls her eyes. "You owe me the truth."
He tentatively steps closer, and she doesn't stop him. "I don't look at JJ and see my future. She's not the person I think about when I see an old couple walking down the street. I don't know the songs she listens to when she's sad or the correct amount of syrup she likes on her pancakes. I don't know the number of her childhood home or favorite piece of art in the Met. I'm not sure if she sings in the shower or if she ties her shoes with two loops. And I don't want to know any of that. You're the only person I ever want to know that personally. I don't love her the way romantic love works. But I didn't know that until I met you, and the very first day, I realized it was different. I know you said that, and I am so sorry I convinced you not to listen to your gut."
Y/n's crying by the end of his beautiful, naturally spoken words. He rushed to get it out, and she processes it for a minute. "Okay." She decides, accompanied by a choked sob.
Spencer frowns because he can't read her properly. "Okay?" He repeats softly. 
She steps forward, which has to be a good sign. "I need you to kiss me now." 
Spencer's crying too slightly as he closes the gap between them, cradling her face like he might shatter her in his palms. "Okay." He whispers, closing the distance between their lips without wasting another second. It's heavier than usual, holding a thousand unspoken words, but it feels like a resolution.
He holds her long after they've run out of air, finally feeling like he can breathe now that he's home.
"I am so in love with you." He tells her. "There is no one else I could ever be with."
She smiles softly back at him. "I'm in love with you too." She replies. "And this suit... you look very handsome."
He smiles widely. "You're the most gorgeous girl in the world." She doesn't bother reminding him that she's been crying and looks washed out. Spencer will forever insist that she is perfect. "Can I take you to dinner? Because I have missed you."
She nods. "I'd love that. And I have the perfect dress."
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honeybeedrabble · 6 months
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Kinktober Day 10: Cheating - Sasuke x AFAB!Reader
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CW: Sasuke x AFAB!reader, cheating sasuke, guilt, sex pollen venom, dubcon (maybe ??), unprotected piv (don’t be stupid), multiple creampie (again don’t be stupid), oral (m receiving), overstimulation, rough sex at the end, breast play, improper use of genjutsu, mention of pricking reader with kunai to release genjutsu, lmg what i missed !!
18+ MDNI
You and Sasuke were sent out on a mission to capture a rogue ninja from just beyond the hidden leaf. There were sighting of her in the land of fire, so you two were scouted out for days, searching for the genjustsu user. Finally you two had tracked her location- more specifically you did. Sasuke had left you alone for only a few minutes when you were ambushed. The woman appeared out of nowhere throwing a kunai at you, which you were able to dodge.
“Thank god that pretty boy left you alone, I was nervous I wouldn’t get the chance to fight you!” She sneered. You lunged, weaving fire style hand signs- something you were told she was weak against. She gasped, getting struck by the small embers that emanated from your attack.
The genjustsu user was quick on offense, spraying a water style attack to combat your first move. Steam surrounded you, and you were alert, ready for her to pop out at any moment for whatever she had left. You could sense the enemy’s chakra behind you and when you turned around she sprang out. She was quick, but no match for your reflexes.
You grabbed her by the arm and threw her down to the ground, she crashed into the dirt with a grunt.
“SHIT!” She gritted through her teeth. You were about to land the finishing blow when suddenly you felt a vine creeping up your leg.
“W-What?!” You were shocked, rose vines growing from nowhere and tying you up, the thorns piercing your skin and where they had punctured you, you felt a burning sensation, far beyond just a simple wound.
“Earth style- roses temptation genjustsu!” She exclaimed. You fell back, the thorns creeping up higher and higher up your thighs. You felt your core tighten and your body temperature raise. You were starting to sweat, a painful arousal stirring in your loins almost immediately.
You heard you name being shouted from beyond the tree line. The genjustsu user swore, before making a break for it. You saw your comerade rushing into the scene, watching you writhe in lustful agony.
“What did she do? How did she hurt you?” Sasuke asked, kneeling down worried at your side. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you felt electricity through your veins from the simple touch.
“Ngh- AH!” You moaned loud. “S…She said it was a genjustsu…” You were able to make out. Sasuke grabbed a kunai from his side pouch, slicing the growing vines off of you and pricking you with the sharp tip to try and break the genjustsu. You let out another moan, thighs clamping together tightly. Sasukes eyes widened, he swallowed deeply, you watched mesmerized as his adams apple bobbed up and down before he licked his lips.
“It… It’s not working. It hasn’t broken…” You whimpered, feeling a drop of arousal coat the inside of your panties. The sensation alone was enough to have you arching your back. “S-Sasuke…” You gasped, writhing in the fluffy grass.
“I-I don’t know what to do… Ive never seen… this kind of genjustsu before!” His face was red, and he clutched the kunai tightly. “I’m going to find her and force her to break it-“
“No! D-Don’t you dare leave m-me like this…” You said with fear. “Sasuke I need your help… P-please. It hurts…” Tears ran down your eyes, your hand rested on your breast as you played with it to release some tension. You moaned, biting your lip and looking up at the Uchiha man through your eyelashes.
Sasuke couldn’t deny he was at least slightly aroused by your lewd display, begging him for “help” which he knew meant was to fuck you. He watched you cry and thrash against the ground, your face red with embarrassment while you were at your most desperate with carnal desires. His comerade was in trouble- how could he deny her the help she needed?! Especially when you’re in oh so much pain… The guilt sat heavy on his mind, needing to fuck his partner while his wife was at home worried about his well being.
Before he could make up his mind you got up and pounced on him, bringing him to the ground. He gasped, feeling you grind against his erection between both your layers. You moaned, the feeling of his hard member against your pained clit was a relief like no other. Watching his face redden while you were on top of him only turned you on more. He let out soft sounds, his hand resting on your waist as you rolled your hips into him.
“Ngh- i-it’s just a genjustu. It’s all in your head, you have to fight it!” Sasuke stammered, although his hips rutting back against you was telling a different story.
Pins and needles were all over your body, your cunt was aching to be filled by him- you needed to feel the stretch of cock on a carnal level, tearing at his shirt, crying through the pain of your animalistic craving.
“It’s doesn’t feel like one…” you huff, his shirt coming off and revealing his muscular abs. Sasuke sat up, his hand coming off of your waist and tangling in your hair.
“You… we… need to fight it…” he said softly, face inches away from yours.
“I can’t think straight Sasuke… I need you.” You closed the gap, lips crashing into his own. He didn’t follow his own advice, tanging his tongue with yours the second he was able to slip past your lips.
You pulled your shorts off, then reached for his pants and unbuttoned them, zipping his zipper down and tugging his boxers waistband to the side. His cock sprung loose, his angry red tip lathered with precum. You bent down and shoved him down your throat, he grunted, pulling your hair.
You shoved him down the back of your throat, playing with your cunt from outside your panties. You felt your slick seep through, making your fingers slippery. You used that hand to fondle his balls, starved for his cum.
“Ngh- ahh- shit. It’s t-too much… I… I can’t…” He whimpered, shooting a fat load into your mouth. You gratefully swallowed, playing with your pained pussy to release the tension. The heavenly taste of his salty spend on your tongue was enough to have you seeing stars, plunging your index and middle finger into your weary hole, pulsing around your fingers.
You kept sucking, his legs twitching as you sucked him dry and then some. His eyes began to water, moaning your name to you in the forest. His mind was racing, thinking about Sakura, wishing she had this kind of a mouth on her. He felt awful, drooling over the feeling of your sloppy sucking and comparing it to that of his wife. He felt even worse, knowing yours was better.
“I- oh fuck,” He stammered, eyes threatening to roll back. “I-Is that it? Is it over?” He asked, pulling you off his dick, watching you lick your lips. You shook your head.
“It’s worse now,” you blubbered, face red. Your eyes were still full of tears, a pained expression on your face. Sasuke wanted to help you- really- but he felt awful at the idea of fucking you.
“I…”
“I know, I know. I’ll do the work, just please Sasuke! My fingers can’t get the job done, it’s hell! My skin feels like it’s burning.” You threw your compression shirt off, tits spilling out. His eyes were fixed on them, you felt his cock harden underneath you again.
“Make it quick…” he muttered, licking his lips.
You quickly mounted him, stuffing his girthy cock into your sopping hole, moaning loudly as you took him balls deep. Sasuke grunted, ashamed of his reactions as he twitched inside of you. You rocked back and forth on him, clit brushing up against his dark hair and your jaw hung loose as you coated his loins with your arousal.
Sasuke stifled a moan, watching your tits bounce up and down as you rode him. He attached his lips to your hard nipple and you cried, pushing his head deeper into your breasts. He licked at your tits, silencing his groans into your chest, embarrassed he was so sensitive from a woman who wasn’t even his wife.
“FUCK! Y-yes sasuke! M-More!” You yelped, feeling your core tighten as your thighs shook.
You came desperately, choking his shaft with your velvety walls as you leaked on his lap. Sasuke moaned, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead while you pumped yourself on him, using his hard cock like he were a simple toy. It was too much for him, he shot hot spurts of cum deep inside of you, your toes curled and you clamped you eyes shut, feeling the euphoria from being so unbelievably stuffed.
It was so perplexing, never had Sasuke been fucked so desperately, this type of sexual energy he wasn’t used to and all he could do was curse himself for enjoying it so much.
He panted, falling back, hitting the ground with his spine as he waited for you to get off of him. But you didn’t. You sat on his cock, breathing heavily with your hands splayed on his chest. While you felt slightly better, you were still at the mercy of your arousal. Sasukes eyes shot open as you slowly started bobbing up and down his shaft again.
“W-What? That’s not enough?” He asked shocked, brows furrowed as your hips rose and fell back against him.
Your eyes were still red, face scrunched into a tortured grimace, teeth gritting as you kept at it.
“N-Not even close.” He let out a whimper, biting his lower lip as he watched his sticky cum leak out of you and stick to where your sexes met, stretching into a stringy mess when you came off, just to pool again when you came down on him.
He threw his head back, hips thrusting into you against his will, diving his overstimulated cock into your tight, wet cunt, bottoming out with a shudder each time his tip hit your hilt. He grabbed one of your tits, thumb rolling over your nipple eliciting a growl from deep within your gut.
You threw your hands on the ground, one on each side of his head. You began to ride him faster, sounds of moans and the slapping from your wet skin on eachother filling the woods. He cried out your name panicked.
“Please! I cant… oh god…” Sasukea legs twitched, hips hitting the grass as he lost his energy.
“Sasuke, m’so sorry,” you mewled. “I’ll be good, just let me do this.” The stretch of his cock nestled deep inside of you felt too good to be true, scratching the itch deep inside of you.
“Soooo…. g-good…” He moaned, regretting his words. This was wrong… he knew it was. Balls deep in his sexy comerade, Sakura had no idea. The worst position to be in, yet the best position to lay down and take some wet pussy after a lengthy mission.
“F-Fuck!” You cried, ripping out a few blades of grass while your assed bounced on his cock with fervor. Soon enough you were a moaning mess, cumming around his member with passion. Sasuke thrashed, feeling you tense around him again. He was so tired, he couldn’t cum again, but the scene was so erotic he felt like he would’ve right then and there if it wasn’t for your appetite.
The burning was back and you screamed, tired of the poison that was seeping through your veins, the poison that made you a cock crazed lunatic. Sasuke was tired too, more so than you. He knew whenever he fucked Sakura next that he would be thinking of this- thinking of you. In the heat of the moment, watching your fucked out face produce a gut wrenching scream he decided that if this moment would fuck up his life forever, he would make it worth it.
Sasuke quickly got up, throwing you to the ground with this powerful arm and grabbed your hip with it. Your eyes widened, watching him lower his pants further before grabbing his cock and parting you in two with his smooth tip. You yelped, scratching his back as he finally gave you the sensation you needed.
“Ngh- GOD YES!” You cried, his dick was pumping in and out of you with an almost violent vigor. He fucked you the way he wouldn’t treat his wife, grabbing your tits and slapping them while he pummeled you. It felt amazing, you propped your head up, watching how his cock disappeared inside of you, only to bulge in your stomach the moment he reached your hilt.
“Fuck- So fucking good….” It came out as a whimper, then an animalistic groan when you threw your hips into his, meeting him whenever he thrusted inside of you.
“Thank you Sasuke, your cock s’fucking good,” tears rolled down your face again and he smirked, licking them off your face before spurting another load inside of you with a throaty groan.
Finally the pain was over, you laid there a fucked out mess unable to think straight- unable to think about the mission. Sasuke buttoned his pants and sat there next to your shirtless with his head in his hand.
“Shit…” He sighed. “Let’s promise to keep this out of the mission report, okay?”
Tag list: @fuckmachine42069 @pasdasin @alien-girl-violet
Next: Day 11 - Pet Play - Kiba X Reader
I FELL BEHIND AGAIN 😀😀
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ddarker-dreams · 11 months
Text
Entanglement.
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Yan Kafka x F Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, unwanted kissing, mild not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.
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“You’re still refusing to wear the clothes I gifted you, dearest?” 
A dulcet voice smoother than the finest silk coos from behind. 
You don’t deviate from your original task. Just outside the window, the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space looms. A mere panel of specialized glass is the only barrier between you and infinite nothingness. The concept used to frighten you, to a paralyzing extent. It got to the point your oh-so-benevolent captor had to make adjustments. Using some technology you’re unacquainted with, the dark canvas morphed into a familiar, more palpable set piece: the scenery of your home planet. 
You’ve since overcome this hurdle and no longer require the mirage’s services. 
Space isn’t what you fear anymore. No, it’s the woman with the future in her eyes who holds that distinction. 
“It isn’t to my taste.” 
“I know,” she agrees. Her perfume is near stupefying when it invades your senses. “It's to mine.” 
Kafka is either aggravatingly unassuming or laser-sharp with her intentions. You’re never given time to adjust to her fickle ways, the second you think you might understand her, she reveals just enough that you’re right back where you started. 
Gloved fingers hover over your wrist, causing your hair to stand on end. As if she’s playing a glissando on the piano, her fingers slowly creep up, from your forearm to your bare shoulder. Presently, you’re wearing one of the few garments you were allowed to bring. It’s a plain, white dress that she longs to stain with her own palette. 
Her arms envelop your midsection from behind. She nuzzles her nose into your neck, swaying you back and forth while she hums a haunting ballad. Can she hear the skipping of your heart? Does she consider it just another instrument to compose her hedonistic harmonies? 
“Are the stars truly that interesting?” she murmurs against your skin. “Surely, they aren’t prettier than I am, hm?” 
“Maybe. At least they understand the concept of personal space.” 
“Oh, I do as well. I just choose to ignore it when it comes to you.” 
“I wish you wouldn’t.” 
You can feel her smile.
“You’d be lonely without me. Maddeningly so.” 
“Insanity is tempting if you’re the alternative.” 
She laughs, the sound low and husky, belying any offense taken, if you had the hubris to think anything you said could hurt her. Before you can register anything, she twirls you around. In this new, uncomfortable intimate position, you’re forced to look her in the eye. There’s no quality of hers that unsettles you more. They draw you in and devour you like a black hole, picking apart actions you haven’t even committed yet. 
It reminds you, similar to the path she walks, that nothing you do will ever amount to any meaningful change in your circumstances. 
Kafka settles her gloved pointer finger and thumb on your chin, tilting your head up. Whatever she’s thinking is as unknowable as the universe itself. Her fondness for you is an illness without a cure — even she must know how sick it is. Something tells you that if a remedy for it ever existed, she’d refuse to take it, and would instead crush the vial before your eyes. 
“What a beauty you are,” she praises through lidded eyes. “There is no greater joy than knowing you feel every second we’re apart, just as I do.” 
Irate, you try moving your head away, but this causes her grip to tighten. Never enough to hurt — it’s only meant to warn. 
“I take it you don’t like the cosmetics I brought back, either?” 
Kafka delights in asking questions she already knows the answers to. If she had anything resembling a hobby, you suppose that would be it. 
The skin beneath her eyes crinkled with amusement at your abrupt vow of silence. You fight off a shiver at the look. It’s all-consuming, dangerous in a way that rouses your primal instincts. She leans down close enough that you can feel her breath fan against your face. Her head tilts in a deliberate show of faux curiosity. 
“Is your tongue frozen? Should I think of a way to warm it up?” 
The hand that isn’t holding your head in place toys with the strap of your dress. 
Swallowing thickly, you shake your head. You know when to surrender in a losing game. 
“... No.” 
“No?” She repeats, mimicking the inflection of your voice. “Ah, well, that’s a shame.” 
You almost sigh in relief when her hand retreats. She reaches into a pocket on the inside of her coat and pulls out a tube of lipstick. She applies the roseate pigment, maintaining smoldering eye contact with you all the while.
After what feels like an eternity, she descends upon you, her lips seeking yours in a fit of scathing passion. You freeze up at the unexpected boldness. She takes advantage of your reverie, interlocking your lips in a languid motion. There’s no urgency to the kiss, she takes her time with you, just how she likes it. 
Her hand presses against your back, urging your chest to arch into hers. It isn’t until her hand starts venturing down that you return to your senses. In a fit of panic, you raise your hands to push her away. The defiance gets you nowhere — she catches your wrists with ease and holds them in place. 
Fortunately, she pulls back, although she doesn’t relinquish her grip. 
“I knew this color would look good on you,” Kafka sighs, almost wistful. Then, she raises your wrist and presses a lingering kiss against your pulse point. It leaves a smudged lipstick stain behind. “That leaves the issue of the outfit. Hm, what to do, what to do…” 
As if hit with an epiphany, her eyes light up in microscopic supernovas. “I know. If you need my help applying makeup, then why should getting dressed be any different? Why, you should’ve said so sooner.” 
Indignant, you seethe, “That isn’t…! Fine, I’ll put it on myself. Just— just turn around, okay?” 
“Of course. Anything for my sweet, shy girl.” 
Surprisingly, Kafka acquiesces. She pivots on her heel and covers her eyes with her hands. A teasing gesture, if you had to guess. 
Just when you believe you’re regained a semblance of control over the situation, she throws in a comment that snuffs out this fledgling hope. 
“I’ll give you to the count of a ten before I come and help you myself.” 
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valeskafics · 5 months
Text
"Top Marks" Chapter One: First Impressions - Michael Gavey x Preppy!Reader
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Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six (Final)
Summary: Michael meets you for the first time in your American Literature class.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader
Word Count: 1,635 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️
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Only one word flashes through Michael’s head the first time he sees you. You, with your perfect hair, your pink peep-toe high heels with baby pink toenails peeking through, your white pleated skirt that shows off those fucking thighs of yours, that pink v-neck sweater with a white button-down underneath it, your Tiffany necklace, your pink earrings…
The word is bimbo.
You make him sick. Probably got into Oxford with Daddy’s money, never had to work a day in your life. You and that fucking pink gel pen with the fuzzy top you’re using. Why did you have to decide to sit in the front row? For the love of all that is holy, why did you have to smile at him like the two of you were great fucking friends and take a seat beside him? He gives your notebook with Hello Kitty emblazoned across the front of it a disdainful look before scribbling away in his own notebook. Michael sees you cross your legs, revealing the slightest bit more of your thigh. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably, cheeks flushing, sweat beading at his temples. He watches the way your fingers wrap around your pen as you write down the professor’s name in preparation for the lecture that’s about to start.
He takes a bite from his snack bar, still giving you skeptical looks from the corner of his eye. That’s when you turn to him and give him a sweet smile and wave, introducing yourself by name and extending your hand for him to shake.
“Are you a first-year too?”
Michael nods, giving your hand a quick shake, noting to himself how soft your skin is before quickly shaking the thought away, “Yeah. Michael Gavey. Math and physics.” He gives you a condescending, cunty little smile before remarking, “I’m guessing yours is something more… Artistic.”
He watches with amusement as you narrow your eyes, your sweet tone of voice turning ice cold as you question, “I beg your pardon?”
He chuckles, gaze wandering down to your silver heart charm, nestled between your breasts before meeting your eyes again, “No offense or anything. I just don’t typically see your type take much interest in math or science is all.”
You press your lips into a thin line, nostrils flaring with annoyance as you reply coolly, “I’m a double major, actually. Physics and psychology.”
That throws Michael for a loop, but he raises his hands in mock surrender, still intent on goading you into getting upset, “Apologies. I just meant that, in general, people like you are far more interested in partying than reading up on calculus or studying for exams.”
You arch a brow, “People like me? Why don’t you elaborate as to just what sort of people those are, Michael?”
He shrugs, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a devious grin playing on his lips that grows as your anger does, “You know. Your type. Bimbos.”
You watch with mild disgust and no little amount of annoyance as he gnaws at his snack bar, wrinkling your nose before declaring, “I graduated with all A’s on my GCSEs, you smug little shit.”
Michael looks at you with renewed interest, more than slightly turned on by the edge in your voice, “You… You’re being serious right now?”
“Yeah, you know what, Michael?” You give him a sickly sweet smile, folding your hands under your chin, distracting him slightly as you bat your eyes at him, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, “One of my majors is psychology. I’ve had two classes already and took a few courses in secondary, so I feel quite confident that I can analyze you. You suffer from an acute case of what I like to call the three A’s.”
Michael looks at you, leaning in, interest piqued as he questions, “Oh? What’re the three A’s then? Let’s hear it.”
“Arrogant. Antisocial. Asshole.”
He lets out a low bark of laughter, looking you up and down, “Wow, okay, that’s how we’re going to play it? Let’s do this then. Let me analyze you. You’re shallow, marginally smart, can be a little bitchy, but you’re quite fit so you manage to get away with all of that.”
“Touché,” you drawl, leaning back in your seat, allowing him to admire you in all your splendor, “Now you. You pretend like you’re not into all this. Socializing, uni parties, that sort of thing. But in reality? You’re dying for it. You want so badly to be liked, it kills you inside that you aren’t. I’d pity you for it if you weren’t such an abrasive cunt.”
He blinks a few times, staring at you in disbelief before muttering, “Damn. You… That was actually quite accurate. I don’t want to be popular per se, but some social clout would be appreciated.”
“Good luck with that,” you tell him airily, “With those cargo shorts and your superiority complex.”
Michael’s jaw drops slightly as he mumbles beneath his breath, “They have lots of pockets. Good utility.”
“So you can keep your endless supply of crunchie bars, I’d reckon,” you drawl, turning to face your professor as the lecture begins, cutting him off before he speaks again, “Be quiet. Don’t talk to me. It’s disrespectful to the lecturer.”
He gives you a dirty look out of the corner of his eye, scribbling away at his notebook, wishing he didn’t have to take this fucking class. American Literature. The only elective course he could get as a first year, being at the bottom of the food chain as far as selecting classes is concerned. Of course he read the required book you were assigned for the first lecture. “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin. He found the book quite dull, but the moment your professor asks what the sea symbolized in the novel, his hand is one of two that fly into the air. You, however, beat him by mere milliseconds and the professor calls on you, asking your name. You introduce yourself, head held high with a confidence that comes from knowing you’re the smartest in the room.
He’s ready to knock you down a peg.
Michael drums his fingers against his desk as you prepare to answer the question, already anticipating your failure and embarrassment in front of the hall of no less than one hundred students.
“The sea symbolizes freedom and escape,” you say, completely sure of yourself, “It seduces Edna with its promise of her place in the universe, but it also reminds her of her own awakening. Water is used as a symbol for cleansing and baptism, rebirth so to speak. And what is Edna’s awakening if not a rebirth? It carries both a promise and a threat, the horror of independence she faces in its vast expanse. Narratively, it makes sense that she ended her life there. Where her rebirth began, making the story come full circle.”
Michael’s lips part in surprise at your in-depth, and according to the professor, absolutely spot-on answer. You smile to yourself, looking quite satisfied before giving him a smug little smile that absolutely infuriates him. Who the fuck do you think you are? And why does that smile look so fucking cute on your stupid fucking face? He’s going to show you who the smartest person in the room is. And it isn’t you.
When the lecture ends, one of your advisors comes in and starts telling the student body about a little incentive program that the university is trying this year. The person who earns the top spot in your class this term will receive a paid weekend holiday in Nice, something that has never been done before. You can already see yourself, lying on the beach, getting tan, a drink in your hand while the sun shines down on your skin.
The moment class is dismissed, you turn to Michael, jaw set in determination, “You do realize it’s going to be me on the beach in Nice, yeah? Not you.”
He scoffs, watching your French tip nails tap away at your baby pink Razr phone, thinking you are the absolute epitome of everything he hates in this world, “You think that you’re going to get top marks? Please. I’m the smartest person on campus. I’ve taken all advanced classes ever since secondary school began-”
You laugh dryly, hanging your Juicy Couture purse on your shoulder, arms crossed as you glare up at him, “Sorry, I was actually sort of busy in the IB program at Sevenoaks. Perhaps you’ve heard of it, hm?”
He rolls his eyes, following you out of the lecture hall, “Oh, please. As if Sevenoaks is even remotely on the same level as St. Paul’s.”
You give him an unimpressed look, “Oh, St. Paul’s? No wonder you have no idea how to speak to a woman then.”
Michael scowls at you, “You know you have no chance against me! It’s cute that you think you do, but I am leagues beyond you, little girl.”
You freeze, rounding on him to give him the nastiest glare he’s ever been on the receiving end of in his life, “Little girl?! Well I suppose we can’t all be bloody sasquatches!”
“It’s hardly my fault that you’re like a chihuahua, rabid and nipping at my heels!” Michael retorts, grinning at the way you fume with anger, “What’s your excuse?”
“My mum once told me God lets things grow until He’s satisfied with them,” you give him a disdainful look, “Some of us clearly took longer than others.”
He stares after you as you strut off, admiring the curve of your perfectly shaped bum as you go. Oliver approaches him, asking if he’s ready to head to lunch, shaking him out of his reverie.
He might have just met his match.
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urdinosaurs · 8 months
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ok ok, so the idea for the hobbie... how about the reader having toxic friends who, when they meet hobbie, say he's "too much" for her? so, she would be super insecure, maybe they'd break up without explaining because of their pressure, but you know how hobbie is, she doesn't give him options other than him solving things the "hobbie way"
this happened to a friend of mine in the past, she was told that her boyfriend was "too cool" or that she was getting in his way, and I can't stop thinking how the hobbie would handle it
no need to write about it, it's just an idea... Oh, and could you add me to your hobbie taglist?? I would love to be able to follow then
╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑 ❞ | 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍
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PROMPT: when your friends you've known for years decide to get together for the first time in months, they meet your boyfriend, hobie brown. the five of them are stunned when they first lay eyes on him, appearing polite, but when he leaves you’re bombarded with "advice" that starts the downward spiral of your and hobie's relationship. he however, won't let that happen.
WARNINGS: afab reader, angst, feelings of inadequacy, some british slang: adam and eve - believe, toxic friends, manipulative friends, insecurity, self consciousness, self hate, 3k wc
A/N: since we talked about this in pm you already know that i made changes to the original request. my god it took 3 weeks to write and even then i barely got it done on time. i kind of hate this but wtv i have to post it at this point
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it's been eating at you for weeks. constantly your friend's words churn over in your head when you hang around hobie. you hide it. at least you try to keep your uneasiness at bay and push it to the back of your mind whenever he wraps an arm around your shoulder in public, or people's heads turn as you walk past. but it's maddening to have their words play in a vicious cycle, reminding you of what you'll never be for him, good enough.
last week, you took time off work to visit your friends who had made plans to see you. because of your jobs, you were spread across town, your daily lives separate from one another, which meant finding time together was a rare blessing. it was going well until hobie came to pick you up, and that's when it started. the side glances, the questioning looks they shot you, were unavoidable and only amplified when he came up to greet them.
each of them took him in, offering a polite greeting, their eyes narrowing when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and quickly kissed your forehead, saying he'd meet you in the car. when he was out of earshot, they turned to you.
"that's your boyfriend?"
"you didn't tell us you were dating someone like him."
"i didn't think someone who looked so… you know… interesting and uh… attractive would date you. no offense, of course!"
"well, it's just that your, you."
condescending, judgmental, disdainful; that's all you heard. even after trying to laugh it off, saying that you got lucky, it didn't end there.
"he's just so much cooler than you."
he really was. hobie brown was so much better than you deserved, flawless in his looks, smug and assured without being overconfident, secure in himself but not narcissistic. he was perfect, so much so that you had a hard time believing he was real. thus it shouldn't have shaken you as it did when those words took root in your consciousness, sprouting and branching out into further uncertainty, spreading and infesting your mind until you end up where you are now. a tangled mess of doubt, trapped in a cycle of self-pity and blame.
those thoughts spiral over the next couple of weeks, to the point where even hobie has taken notice and pulled you aside time and time again to ask what was the matter. you find that lying to him has gotten easier, despite him managing to see right through you and the facade you hide behind. instead, he's taken up on coaxing you into the truth by offering more physical reassurance. his arms linger around you more, checking up on you with little brushes of his hand across your back, letting his kisses last longer, all of this while initiating these tender gestures.
it's a more than thoughtful expression, nearly bringing you to tears most nights when he whispers words of reassurance into your ear like you deserve to be held so tenderly.
in those moments, the self-deprecating thoughts become too much, and you feel yourself slowly slipping away from him, detaching, only clinging to the love you think you deserve.
you wish you could say that your thoughts were the only cause, but the more you saw your friends, the more their comments about your relationship would wear you down. sleep evades you most nights, caught up wondering about the future of your rapidly deteriorating relationship with hobie, so really, it should be no surprise when you come to the conclusion one night that you should break up.
by no stretch of the imagination do you want to, but it would be best for both of you, right? he could finally find someone who can give him all he deserves, the affection you lack, the love, the sex. someone who won't rely on the constant reassurance you seem to need, hold him back from his duty as spider-man, who's not a continual burden, a person that is, in all essence, everything you aren't. it's better this way. after wasting his time, he'll find someone he deserves. you're counting on it. besides, it's not like he would notice that you were gone or, more likely, care.
self-hatred fills your chest as you relive your relationship with hobie in your head, fueled by the new information and perspective that you were never going to mean what he meant to you. and that's precisely what you say in the note you leave on his kitchen counter before walking out the door, choking on your tears.
∘°∘♡∘°∘
hobie comes home that night to an empty apartment. it's quiet, too quiet for you to occupy it, and it's his first inkling that something's the matter. he calls out your name, peeking into various doorways curiously, hands shoved in his pockets. a minute passes and the crinkle between his eyebrows deepen as he spins aimlessly in place for any trace of you.
his senses prickle, pace stuttering when he feels something is amiss. hobie's observational stare flits around the room, taking care to search for disturbances, taking note of his untouched mess before his spine straightens, and it's then he realizes all your stuff is gone. the bra lying on the back of the couch is nowhere to be found, your small bag of belongings is missing from its corner in his room, and the jacket you claimed for yourself is hanging in his closet. it's his second indication that something isn't right.
hobie's lips purse into a frown, warning bells ringing in his mind as he peers back into his room and confirms that all your things are missing. dread pools in his stomach, and he's more frantic now, scouring for any trace of you, when he stumbles upon the note sitting on the kitchen counter. it's his third and final sign, and his fingers crumple the paper as he swipes it off the counter, his breath catching in his chest at the first two words.
i'm sorry.
he reads it and can almost imagine your voice reading it to him in the low timber you use when remorseful or insecure. it doesn't help that the more he reads, the more panic rises from the depths of his stomach, his face falling when your friends are mentioned. the alarm gripping him like a vice dissipates into raw, unbridled anger.
it becomes too much listening to you degrade yourself like this that he slams the writing down, his hand running over his face while stepping back. he paces in a circle, glaring at the sheet of paper, before snatching it again in a fury. by the end of the note, where you sign your name with an 'i love you,' a deep ache has furrowed its way into his chest that doesn't subside those coming seconds after reading.
he sets the letter down, his elbows resting on the counter as his head falls into his hands. he's conflicted, frustration clouding his thoughts at your friends, at how you let them get to you in such a way that could ruin the one good thing he's ever had. the other is mournful, deeply pained by the fact you believe such things about yourself when all he's ever shown you is how much you matter.
he picks up the message once more, examining the front and back, skimming the page, a deep frown edged into his lips. peering aimlessly, the reasons for your behavior over the past week begin to connect, and he curses himself when he realizes this, groaning as he slumps further against the counter. how had he not seen it? the way you would come home silently after being out with your friends, like your mere presence was an insult to him, taking as little space as possible, secluding yourself, and apologizing more. his blood boils as it all comes together.
he stares at his hands, which have unconsciously curled into a fist, and flexes his fingers. "fuck," he mumbles, breathing heavily. there's no way he's letting your relationship end, not like this. you still love him, that much is clear, and if you're going to let some narcissistic, pretentious twits ruin what you had, then he'll just have to change your mind. he's out of the apartment before he can think it through.
easier said than done, apparently, because he's been swinging around the city for the past half an hour. he has checked every place he can think of, from your apartment to your favorite hangout spots and food places. he's even visited your old bedroom at your parent's residence. there's nowhere else to be. he doubts you would leave town with your livelihood here. hotels are expensive, and you wouldn't have the money to sustain yourself at one for long unless, of course, you're staying the night with friends.
oh.
a fresh swell of resentment pulses through him, not at you, but that you would stay with those people and let them feed into the delusions they've created. moving swiftly, he hurries across buildings, emotional in every sense, flying through the city without care. it festers on his way there, and he's practically suffocating in it as he drops down in front of the place, pushing his hands into his pockets. with his enhanced senses, he can hear pockets of information leaking out, and he slows his steps, careful not to make noise. he strains his ears, picking up the low murmur of voices, yours among them. it's almost pathetic how his heart flutters at the sound of your voice but quickly drops when he starts piecing the conversation together.
"aww, don't cry. it's better this way." one of the girls coos, the faux sympathy in her voice grating on his ears.
"he's just too much for you. i'm sure you'll find someone better suited to you."
"yeah, hobie will find someone he deserves." he stands at the doorstep, speechless, your sniffles breaking his heart.
"you just weren't meant to be."
hobie's fist pounds at the door, hatred roaring so intensely he has to stifle it in an indifferent guise. who were they to assume such things about him? what kind of audacity must they possess to pray on your insecurities? he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hiding his bared teeth behind disregard.
the conversation falls to a hush inside, slow footsteps treading their way to the door, a girl poking her head out. she's shocked by his appearance but quickly recovers by batting her eyelashes, looking at him up and down with an expression he's seen all too often, desire. hobie feels sick, so disgusted he clenches his fist, holding it to his side before it can collide with her face.
"where is she?" he doesn't bother with pleasantries, his gruff voice impatient, desperation underlining his words. she's clever, though, picking up on it as she bristles, trying to appear annoyed by his appearance.
"you know, you really shouldn't be here." her voice is whinier than he remembers. "not when you're the one who caused this."
"me? com' aut' of it now. it's you who caused this," hobie scoffs, scowling, leaning against the door frame. "now, i'm no' goin' to ask again. where is she?"
"you have a lot of nerve playing with her feelings like this when you can obviously do better." she taps a manicured hand over her crossed arms, raising an accusing eyebrow.
"an' you have a lot of fuckin' nerve assumin' shit abou' me when you don't know a damn thing," he spits aggressively, his face hardened and his eyes narrowing into slits. hobie's getting ready to barge in, attack her with insults to get you in his arms again, when he hears your sweet voice calling across the house.
"is everything ok?"
shoving past her, his thick boots vibrate across the floor, directed solely by his spider senses when he sees you for the first time since the breakup.
∘°∘♡∘°∘
your throat is uncomfortably tight with the previous tears you shed, gaping at hobie, whose disheveled appearance curls your lips into a frown. you're extended in the moment, caught in each other's gaze in a way that blurs your mind. your friends look between you two, the one who answered the door, setting a hand on his shoulder, nudging him toward it.
"it's time for you to leave." she gives you a remorseful pout, fingers digging into the bare skin of his shoulder to get him to leave. the pressure snaps him out of his daze, and he jerks his arm out of her grip, surging towards you. with just a step back, he pauses in his stead, his face contorting into one of betrayal, and your heart sinks.
"we need to talk." you can't help but think of how out of place he looks here, in the normalcy of abby's rented home.
"there's nothing to talk about."
"please," he implores desperately, eyes begging you to agree. you're trying to figure out his motive when you swallow your reservations and follow him out the door, your head tucked at your friend's disappointment. the cold air bites your skin, and you shiver as hobie shuts the door behind you.
his head jerks to one of the tallest buildings, the one he's brought you to before in question. you know what he means after so long of being with him. he wants a private spot, really the only place you can get privacy in this city, and you look back at the dwelling. hobie seems to read your mind, gently pulling your hand forward, a silent message to trust him, and you can't help yourself by doing exactly that.
hobie swings to the top of the building, setting you down next to the ledge. the breeze is fierce up here, your short sleeves unable to fight the goosebumps rising to your skin. looking out across the city and pulling your arms in to maintain the heat, you can almost forget about tonight just by watching the dazzling array of lights. that is until you feel warm leather draped over your shoulder, and you're suddenly pulled back into the present.
he takes a step back, avoiding you peering quizzically at him, turning his attention to the same lights he can't seem to find the same beauty in as you. clearing his throat, he sits down at the edge, inviting you to do the same, his face hopeful. you sit, leaving enough of a gap to steal the intimacy of the situation from the air.
"this isn't how a break up is supposed to work," you murmur, picking at the corners of your nails, avoiding his vision exploring the emotions you suppressed rising to the surface.
he scoffs, throwing his head back. "wasn" much ov a break up, more than you jus' leaving, luv."
your breathing hitches, and the guilt eating away at you worsens, hating how you can't even stand by your decision.
"an' by the way, wha' the hell was that note?" his nostrils flare, and you shrink further into yourself, pulling his jacket closer. "letting those pieces of shit you call friends talk to you like 'at. having 'em ruin our relationship."
"they didn't," you murmur lightly, your throat thick with emotion. "i did. they just told me the truth."
"the truth?" he clenches his fists so hard that his nails cut into his skin, downright appalled. his mind races faster than he can make sense of. "'that's wha' you adam and eve 'his is?"
your silence speaks louder than words, and his scoff rings in your ears, his head shaking in disbelief.
"what are you doing here, hobie?" you whisper, looking away. "why can't you stop using me?"
"using you?!" hobie's head swivels around, his breathing shallow and face contorting in outrage. "your friends 'ave you more fucked in the head than i thought if you seriously believe that shit."
"but they're right, hobie!" the words burst out of your mouth before you can stop them, whipping your head around to face him. "all you do is pretend to care even though you know you can do better!"
"shut up," hobie's lips curl in fury, pinching your chin to make you look at him. "shut the hell up with the self-deprecating bullshit they've manipulated you to think."
"why do you keep denying it?" your desperate voice shakes with emotion, now on the verge of tears. "i've come to terms with it. we just– we weren't meant for each other, hobie. why can't you understand that?!"
sniffling, you break away from his lax grip, holding the water building behind your eyes at bay as you try to compose yourself. hobie's stunned, words evading his skillful tongue by your confession. his chest is uncomfortably tight as seconds pass, the wind carrying the sounds of cars and late-night street life from below.
"i don't," he states firmly, clenching his jaw. "i've never 'hough' 'at way or given any indication i did. it doesn'' make sense when i know wha' i want."
you swallow, reaching through your struggle to put your intentions into words. "all i want is for you to be with someone who can give you everything."
"but i don't want everything. i want you."
time slows down to reveal the flawless details of hobie's pretty, dark skin framed by the city's lights encompassing the two of you. for a moment, you pause, blood pounding in your ears. registering his words takes longer than you would like to admit, but the tears have already started falling, and hobie's enveloped you in his arms tightly before you can blink them away. he sways, his embrace suffocating, and it's all you need to cry into his shirt. desperately and utterly, you sob, each pent-up emotion spilling out in waves of crying. he holds you through all of them, his gentle but deep voice rumbling in your ear all the while.
"i'm sorry." you cry in his shirt, the fabric muffling your voice. "i'm sorry to make you do this."
he shushes you in an instant, his lilting cockney accent soothing. "don't do that."
"i don't deserve you." the hoarseness in your quivering tone does not go unnoticed as you sink deeper into his embrace. he holds you close to his chest, tapping your thigh to encourage you to move onto his lap, which you do, your face still tucked into the crook of his neck.
"hey…hey, look at me 'ere sweet'eart." hobie taps your jaw, and when your head moves, he ushers your chin up gently. "none of that nonsense, alright?"
he waits for some kind of acknowledgement, nudging your chin. "alright?" a nod is all you can give, swallowing back the tears that prick your eyes.
"listen 'ere, luv. their opinions mean jack shit, got it? they don'' have a clue 'bout us. just a bunch of presumptuous asses, right?"
you turn your head down, lip caught between your teeth debatingly.
"but–"
"no buts. those cunts think they know everything, and that's where they get ya. only you're better than 'em, huh? we don't conform to other people's elitist beliefs, isn't that right?"
you chuckle lightly, sniffling while the weight on your shoulders you've been carrying for weeks begins to lift.
"i wanna hear you say it, sweetheart. their opinions mean jack shit." he reaffirms.
taking a deep breath, the anguish that's been wearing away at you, the insecurity and doubts flicker like a dying flame, and releasing the breath extinguishes it in seconds. "their opinions mean jack shit."
"there's, my girl!" hobie exclaims, and he pulls you into his side for a hug, which you quickly reciprocate. "i knew you 'ad it in you. you're perfect, ya know that? absolutely perfect in every way possible, luv. though ya do need be''er friends."
laughing, you wipe away any lingering tears, settling into his hold with an agreeing hum.
"does 'at mean you're mine again?" he whispers into your hair, and when you nod in agreement, your chin still tucked into his chest, his pierced lips pulling into an ear-splitting grin you recognize as boyish.
"that's wha' i like to hear."
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TAGLIST: @alicefallsintotherabbithole
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duos silices ad ignem
Just a Rollo fic I wrote based off of this post
I write Reader/Yuu as female
Also my writing may be a bit biased but I refuse to write Deuce as nothing but a sweetheart even in an angst fic
“You’re ‘used to it’?” Rollo repeats incredulously, looking at you as though you’ve gone barmy, “Oh you poor thing. I can’t blame you for becoming numb to the absurdity after spending every day swimming in it.”
You open your mouth, ready to dismiss his words and defend yourself, but you find the words clogging up at your throat, refusing to leave. The stoic Student Council President continued to look at you, concern overcasting his features, so you swallow thickly as you feel your heartbeat in your ears and mutter that you think you hear Professor Trein calling you before making a much too hasty exit.
You’ll admit that initially, yes, the concept of magic terrified you. Why wouldn’t it? After spending a lifetime without it and then being thrown into the both metaphorical and literal lions’ den with no support whatsoever was the stuff of nightmares. Especially when you consider your first overblot, where everyday was the physical representation of out of the frying pan and into the fire.
But you learned to see the beauty of magic, learned to see how it can help and heal, how it can mend broken bones in seconds instead of months, how it can protect you and make you soar. 
Though why do you feel resentful? Why do you feel that tang of bitterness when you’d see someone wave their pens and have an entire room spotless in a blink of an eye? Why does it cause such discomfort to witness a meal magically prepped to perfection? Why does watching your classmates using spells to play around in class and make their life easier fill you up with so much dread?
You love magic so why do you still flinch?
‘Maybe,” your mind supplies, “it’s because they’re so used to it. They’re so lackadaisical about throwing around spells because it comes to them without a thought. To them it’s mundane. To you - well, it’s proof that you don’t belong here, that you’re not yet home.”
Later on you find yourself sitting in isolation on a bench, far removed from the festivities of your peers, as you watch them produce fireworks with seamless flicks of their wrists, laughing gaily with every spark and flicker.
Why was it that a complete stranger could see you, hear your unspoken thoughts, much better than an entire castle full of people that you’ve spent months with? Why was it that this wiry, unfeeling, looming presence was able to piece together what was laid out in front of him much better than the people you brushed with death with to save?
Was it pity? The thought should have filled you with offense, that this person you just met is treating you with such infantilising condescension. How dare he patronise you without even knowing what you’ve done, what you’ve lived through, how you’re barely holding on to the tattered shreds of your sanity before it slips through your fingers-
How dare he be so right.
Maybe it is pity, maybe his patronising words were warranted. Maybe, just maybe, you’re so desperate that you’ll take it, that you’ll take anything if it meant someone would look close enough to see that you’re not okay, that you want out.
You’re left alone with your thoughts now, as you watch your schoolmates with a blank look, your eyes fixated on their high spirits but not quite seeing them. Your thoughts that liked to remind you of how small you are, how insignificant against the might that was magic, how easy it was for you to sign away your life to Azul with a simple signature, how eye contact or a few words was all it took for Jamil and Ruggie to own your mind and body, how Vil cursed your food without a word to you nor a care in the world.
How completely breakable you are in this twisted world of vices and villains.
Even the other first years, who are considered the least powerful in regards to magical capability, could end you as fast as lightning flashes.
You think back on the scars that coiled and burned along your skin, how the foreign slivers of jagged discolouration were littered along your body, a sadistically twisted storybook that mapped out your past, present and future torment. The deep reddish-purple lesions and inky black cracks that spiderwebbed your once young, innocent and untouched complexion were nothing more than a perpetual reminder of all that you’ve lost, all that’s been taken from you in this world. That you weren’t who you once were and you can never go back to being her.
(“Deuce,” you whispered to your friend late into the night. Ace and Grim were contentedly dozing away on the mattress you’d placed on the floor of Ramshackle’s living room, leaving you and Deuce the only ones awake on your couch, the dim light of the television bathing you in opalescence and and the tinny sounds it played turning into white noise. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice just barely a mutter but you heard it loud and clear. “Have,” you took a breath and looked down at your twiddling fingers, “have you ever looked at a mirror and saw a stranger?”
“Yeah, I have,” Deuce replied. Your head cants upwards and you see his blue eyes piercing through the darkness, “it was right after I heard my mum crying on the phone to my grandma. I didn’t know who I was. I just knew I didn’t want to be who I saw.”)
But it’s okay now because they are your friends.
That’s the mantra you chanted as you surveyed everyone in front of you. 
Riddle who called you pathetic who didn’t hesitate to make a mockery of you who attacked you with both his words and his thorny rage, diligently listening to an NBC student explain the history of Fleur City.
They are your friends
Deuce who was your best friend who you trusted with your life who you can’t tell any of this to and Epel who’s a victim like you who wants out like you who’s still destined to hurt you like everyone else, talking animatedly about their magical wheels as they eat their candy apples.
They are your friends
Ruggie who can control you with one word who still has the fangs and claws of a predator who you still don’t know if you can trust, munching on as many baked goods as he could.
They are your friends
Azul who’s sadistic and manipulative and uses and takes for his own benefit who happily made you homeless and still has everything despite all that he’s done who’s predatory eyes burn you whenever he’s near, looking for your next weakness to exploit and Jamil who used and kidnapped and manipulated you who hypnotised you and ripped away what little control you had whilst playing pretend as your friend who took pleasure in your suffering were surveying the stalls, asking the vendors questions about their wares. For some reason, the thought of joining them felt like acid crawling up your throat.
They are your friends
Rook who’s an enabler just like everyone else who watched on as his housewarden cursed your food and tried to poison and kill someone who can easily hunt you down and find you no matter where you are or how well you hide, laughing along with everyone’s merriment and spouting out verbose french poetry that you weren’t sure you wanted to understand.
They are your friends
Idia who took Grim from you who unlike everyone else was an actual genuine friend before he overblotted who played his part just like everyone else did, looking like he found Nirvana as he was surrounded by stray cats and kittens.
They are your friends
Silver who you don’t even know yet who could still be part of this twisted ploy to cause your downfall who could hide a person as sadistically corrupted like everyone else, napping on a bench near Sebek who hates your existence who hates that a human would dare to breathe the same air as his liege who doesn’t even hide his contempt for you who was watching Malleus who’s never there who never helps who just does what he wants and you can’t say anything because who are you compared to him with his usual starry-eyed worship.
They are your friends. They’ve changed. It’s alright now, You easily washed away the red of their sins so everything’s all good. You’ve moved on - forgive and forget, right? Sure they hurt you but it’s all water under the bridge. They won’t hurt you again. So why, why- 
Then why does your stomach feel like lead now. Why do your eyes sting so badly, pinpricks dotting the edges of them as you feel the telltale drip of water run down your cheek.
All you want is to survive
But how do you survive in a world that wants you dead?
Apart from Ace, Deuce, Grim and the ghosts that haunt your dorm, not one person looked at you and saw you as someone other than the magicless prefect who stops overblots and cleans up messes that they had nothing to do with. Not one person who’s hurt you had stopped to think that you were someone who could feel hurt, that your feelings matter, that you don’t fight death every other second because you want to but because it’s the only way you could survive in a place where you have been abandoned. 
Shakespeare was right. There are daggers in men’s smiles. In every predatory grin, in every saccharine leer, in every simper that coiled and tightened around you like a serpent, with its poison-laced fangs prodding at your carotid, just waiting to strike.
You feel him before you see him, his lanky figure joining you in your shadowed refuge. Without a word, he sits down beside you.
“Do you believe in fate?” you ask idly, your stare never once wavering from where you watched Professor Trein who’s in on it who, just like every other adult, has failed you who never once punished anyone except you and your fellow students, “that things happen and there’s nothing we can do about it because that’s just how things are meant to be? That the people who do bad things just get to do those things and everyone’s supposed to live with it because that’s how the story is written?”
He regards you for a second and then turns and looks straight ahead with a gaze like steel, “I believe in justice. That without it, humanity is doomed to live in a delusion of peace. I believe that the only way to be truly free from the sins that swarm and bite us, that follow us around like a plague, is to take the reins ourselves and use our power to free us from them. The past is just a tragic history but the future has several names: for the weak, it is impossible; for the fainthearted, it is unknown; but for the valiant, it is ideal. And once the gavel of justice has done its duty in punishing the wicked and freeing the innocent, even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”
You feel a cold, thin hand placed over yours and you let it rest there. It was grounding, comforting.
Maybe, it’s about time you stop being a victim of the narrative and take control of your own story. You’ll rid yourself of your tragic ending and fashion a new happily ever after.
In NRC, you found horrors beyond your comprehension.
In Rollo, you think you’ve found your guardian angel.
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alotofpockets · 4 months
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My jersey | Katie McCabe
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Pairing: Katie McCabe x Reader
Prompt: "You're wearing my jersey."
Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 1k
When Katie asked you to come back to Ireland with her to visit her family, you were very excited as it was a big step in your relationship. However, now that you had landed in Ireland, you were only feeling nervous. “They are going to love you.” Katie reassured you one more time before entering her childhood home. Your girlfriend had a big family but the following week it would be mostly her parents and her younger sister Lauryn at the house. 
As Katie predicted, her parents loved you, and you got along great. They made Katie’s favorite meal for her coming home dinner, which according to Sharon was a tradition they created years ago. You thought it was a very sweet tradition and were happy to participate with the amazing food that was served. The first day of your stay was short, since you landed pretty late, so after dinner you played some games with her family before calling it a night.
The next morning you wake up before Katie, you get up and look around her childhood bedroom, something you didn’t get to last night. Her shelves are full of trophies and medals, and the wall above her dresser is filled with pictures of her with her family and friends. Your eyes land on one with her and Lauryn, both decked out in muddy soccer gear, paired with big smiles. “Good morning, baby.” Katie says from behind you. “Good morning, darling.” You quickly make your way back to the bed for some morning cuddles, placing soft kisses on her lips once you’re under the covers again. 
Katie has a meeting with her national team coaches today, which she was currently getting ready for. “Are you sure you’ll be fine here? I would take you with me if I could, I promise.” Katie asks for the fifth time this morning. “Yes, darling, I will be fine. Now go, you’re going to be late.” You say while practically dragging her out of her bedroom. 
Once Katie was out the door you realized that her sister was looking a bit sad, you sat down on the couch with her. “Hey, Lauryn, is everything alright?” You ask her. “It’s fine.” She quickly shoots back but you could read on her face that it wasn’t. “Okay, I won’t push but know that you can talk to me if you want to.” You were about to stand up to give the girl some space, when she started to confide in you. “Katie promised to help me practice but now she’s here but is in meetings, and you’re here. No offense of course, I’m very glad that Katie has found someone, and you’re really nice, I just meant that I know she will want to spend time with you.” You nod along to what she shares. “Well, two things. First of all, Katie has been talking about you the whole week. How far you’ve come with soccer already, how proud she is of you, and how excited she is to play with you.” You give Lauryn a moment to let the first part sink in before you continue. “Second of all, I know family is very important to Katie, and I would never stand in between that. I want you to know that my relationship with your sister does not change anything for your relationship with her. You need her, and she will be there, that will never change. Not that she would in the first place, but I would never let her break any promise that she made to you.” You managed to get a smile back on Lauryn’s face. “Thank you, y/n. I needed that.” You share a quick hug. 
“Hey, I know I’m no Katie McCabe, captain of the Ireland national team, but I’ve got some experience being on the England national team and all.” You joke, “Would you like to go to the field and kick the ball around?” You both head to your rooms to change, meeting back downstairs. 
When Katie gets back she only finds her mom there. “Hi mum, have you seen y/n?” Her mom smiles, knowing her daughter had found a good one, having overheard your earlier conversation with Lauryn. “Yeah, y/n and Lauryn went to the field a little over an hour ago.” Katie thanks her mother before heading to the field.
She realizes that neither one of you had noticed her yet, so she took that time to admire the scene in front of her. You were running drills with her sister. Showing Lauryn a technique and then helping her perfect it. The interaction with her sister wasn't the only thing she was admiring. She was also admiring you in the jersey you were wearing. An Ireland jersey with her name and number on the back. 
She snaps a quick picture before she shoots the ball that had come rolling her way back your way, successfully hitting the back of the net. Both you and Lauryn turn around to see who took the shot, you smile when you see Katie. “Show off!” You yell her way.
You meet her half way, while Lauryn continues working on the technique you just showed her. “Hi darling. How was your meeting?” You say before placing a kiss to her cheek. “It was good, they wanted my opinion on some potential new recruits.” While Katie talks about the meeting, you notice she keeps looking at your outfit with a doped grin. “What's got you smiling like that, darling?” You ask pretending you don't know the reason. 
"You're wearing my jersey." She states, still checking you out. “I like it.” She quickly pecks your lips, before running off to join her sister on the field. Seeing you wearing her national team jersey felt so special to her, especially since you play for a different country. 
You spend the rest of the afternoon on the field with Katie and Lauryn, only heading back when it was time for dinner. The food was amazing, once again. All the nerves about meeting Katie's family had dissolved after meeting them, they made you feel right at home.
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seelestia · 8 months
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— thoughts of saccharine.
two cubes of sugar for each daydream.
#STARRING: wanderer, kaveh, alhaitham, cyno, tighnari, wanderer w/ gn!reader.
#GENRE: fluff, crack-ish but that's just how i write fluff, headcanons/hcs.
#NOTES: mentions of kisses, one implied injury but nothing graphic, cyno's reader isn't a qualified doctor (sorry to the med students).
#THOUGHTS: comically enough, i spent more time on the formatting than the writing itself. maybe i'll play around with them more often? anywho, here is a little smth before fontaine and while i work on other stuff per usual! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
© seelestia on tumblr, aug 2023. do not repost to other sites, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.
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thinking about . . . how wanderer says he 'could care less' about what you do or where you go, always averting his gaze with that disinterested look. it's true, he hates getting caught up in people's business but good riddance, why does he find himself sticking to your side? maybe, he finds your company tolerable (preferable) or that he might even possibly harbor worry for your safety. the wanderer doesn't have a definite answer to this and so, all he can do is insist that he is only here to make sure you don't do anything 'stupid' — yet, he stays so close to you that he could've reached out for your hand if he wished. right, if only pride wasn't an option.
thinking about . . . how wanderer drums his cold fingers on your bare skin while knowing that they are as cold as ice, for a puppet is bereft of humanly warmth, just to incite a reaction out of you. whether it be little yelps, flinches or frowns, he'll drink them all up with an amused snicker. "too cold?" he'd ask oh-so teasingly — but bring his hands up to your lips and press a kiss to them, then you'd see how his eyes dilate and his lips quiver. who's got the upper hand now? (you do, before he snatches his hand away flusteredly and calls you 'an impulsive fool', that is.)
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thinking about . . . how you're the first person kaveh looks for when it comes to everything (literally). sorry, he can't help it; but if you think it's good, then it must be really good, right? his clothes today, menu suggestions, your opinion on a performance you saw at the bazaar together and more — but oh, his architecture drafts can be a different story because he gets pouty with those. (just give him a kiss and it'll wipe itself away, easy peasy?)
thinking about . . . how kaveh would set aside some mora with you in mind. when it comes to food or other expenses, he complains about them with no reservations — but your favorite dish? or the item you were eyeing the other day? knowing that you will tell him not to trouble himself, he can only beg the traveler and paimon to keep quiet when he keeps stumbling into them when he's out buying a secret gift for you. seriously, why does this always happen to him? (huh, who would've thought that kaveh finally learnt a bit more about financial management thanks to you? "how surprising," a certain someone with gray hair and green clothes comments.)
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thinking about . . . how instead of one, there are two mugs on alhaitham's kitchen table every morning. as an early bird, he knows that hydration is something much needed in the morning, so he always prepares two; one for his daily dose of caffeine and the other for your preferred drink. you never recalled asking him to do so — "and you didn't," he affirms, he just gradually incorporated it into his routine. alhaitham states it's for efficiency because he can handle sleepiness somewhat better than you (how offensive). but maybe, the way you always sleepily press a kiss to his cheek as thanks meant something too.
thinking about . . . how alhaitham lets out just the quietest sigh of relief when he realizes you're the one entering his office and not a colleague. for someone so diligent about work (he never claimed he is), he sure perks up when you visit him at work. ask him about it and alhaitham will say that he doesn't know what you're talking about — but the moment you go behind the desk and offer yourself for him to lean on, believe it or not, he melts into you so easily. (...just a little, though.)
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thinking about . . . how cyno places his hood on your head when no one is around. you're not a hanger for hats, but he says that you're "cap-tivating" so it makes sense (please send help). regardless, the general does it as his own unique form of affection; he only ever takes off his head accessory around people he trusts and he thinks you look adorable with it on. not to mention, it also has his scent so he's technically marking you as his territory. relax, he's just joking. (or is he? just make a note to ask about his shampoo next time... unless he's into that all-natural stuff.)
thinking about . . . how as a general, cyno is used to speaking in a clear and precise tone with his subordinates and co-workers. but when he's here, sitting beside you while your nimble fingers make light work of bandaging his arm, his lips can't part themselves to say anything else besides a "sorry" mumbled with a pang of guilt. you tell him it's alright as long as he comes home to you at the end of the day and he refuses to be treated by anyone else ever since. ("sir, but they're not a qualified doctor." "...your point is?")
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thinking about . . . how tighnari's tail always seems to have a mind of its very own; curling around your leg or wrist almost idly, almost as if it's just second nature when you're near enough to be reached. you have a suspicion that he's trying to communicate an unspoken wish — but ask tighnari about it and he'll say it just does that sometimes. you're pleasantly shocked he didn't ask if you sniffed any odd mushrooms that day (...you didn't, you think).
thinking about . . . how tighnari gives your head a little pat after you complete a task he gave (or didn't give) you. finished sweeping the floor? pat, pat. taught collei how to do her homework? pat, pat. oh, you rearranged the bookshelf when he complained about not having time for it last night? pat, pat, pat. at this point, you don't even know if he realizes he does this — but really, this is just a way to say that he's proud of you without being too overly mushy. no, it's not patronizing and no, he isn't going to admit that he has a soft spot for you in a professional setting. though, the way he'd pull back his hand at the speed of light when a ranger walks in on his patting you is a little funny.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
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© written by @seelestia, 2033. do not copy, translate, repost to other sites nor claim as yours.
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