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pellucid-constellations · 4 days

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If It All Fell (7)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad

a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

Azriel

Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.

“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this.

He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.

She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected.

“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.”

Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s.

“Azriel?”

The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him.

“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips.

“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip.

“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”

“Like a lover?”

Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out.

That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic.

Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else.

This was somehow worse.

“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.”

“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together.

“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.”

You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?”

“What?” he choked out.

“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?”

“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.”

You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.”

Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep.

Yes, this was much worse than the last time.

Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you.

The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there.

Useless.

A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable.

There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron.

And he had told you that he had one.

That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much?

Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you.

You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck.

“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor.

“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now.

You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.”

He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids.

“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him.

You felt his breath at your arm.

“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed.

“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.

“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”

“Very little. I’ve been here.”

“For how long?”

“You slept for a day and a half.”

“And you stayed the entire time?”

“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.”

You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.”

“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air.

Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.”

He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down.

“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.”

You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.”

The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?”

His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well.

An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?”

Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.”

You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.”

“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.”

“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.”

Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.”

You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.”

“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.”

You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better.

You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead.

Azriel was so beautiful it hurt.

“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.

The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly.

“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“Has something happened? Between the two of you?”

“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—”

“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You remember what I said?”

“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"

The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into.

“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—”

“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate.

“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.”

You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion?

The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous.

You shouldn’t have asked.

“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?”

“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—”

“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.”

Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—”

“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned.

“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.”

“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate.

You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them.

“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.”

Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?

Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head.

Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive.

But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.”

Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?”

“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.”

Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.”

“How much time?” Azriel strained.

Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.”

“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.”

Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.”

Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned.

“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone.

The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered.

“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed.

In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else.

Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion.

You removed your hand from his.

Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure.

“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—”

“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair.

“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.”

And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact.

A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord.

If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were.

But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst

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norrizzandpia · 3 months

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Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean. (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

Warnings: language, mentions of grinding

Note: this is very very little women coded but nobody is related. You’ll see. Once again, this is a sad ending, but a happy one will be up soon. I just wanted to get something out to you guys because it’s been so long since i posted and im finally feeling up to returning to you all. Genuinely, i feel like this isn’t my greatest greatest work, nothing quite worthy of a comeback fic, but i hope that doesn’t deter you all <3 ill be back with some of my regular abilities soon just a bit rusty so forgive me lol

Y/n had never had a boyfriend. There were failed talking stages and men who stole longer-than-preferred glances at her, but there was never an official, labeled and definite boyfriend. A part of her life which her friends always teased her for, a part of her life which she was secretly so deeply insecure about. Throughout her twenty-two years spent on Earth, she had been told that she was intimidating, that she was “too pretty” to be approached, but, as high school passed and she graduated college without anyone putting in effort, the passing thoughts of “something is wrong with me” took hold. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the fact she liked musicals; maybe it was the friends she hung out with, or the jokes she made; maybe it was her looks, or her smile; maybe her laugh was obnoxious, or she didn’t seem like girlfriend material. She could never escape the feeling that she was inadequate, that somehow, over the years, she had molded herself into a person that no one else would stick around for romantically. Somehow, she wound up unloveable.

Lando, in the beginning, was a maybe. Becoming friends with him was, if you asked her, one of the scariest things she had ever embarked on in her life. Famous, rich, and successful Lando Norris loved her company, even adding in a few questionable and suggestive comments in the midst of it all. Her friends, however relentless, had continuously talked about the possibility of Lando liking her, but she shut it down every time. With the way she had forced her brain to be wired, Lando would never see her as more than a friend. The comments about how beautiful he thought she was, though, she could never explain.

“Are you going to answer me or what?” Y/n’s eyes focused back to the man in her mind, sitting before her at his kitchen table and staring at her as if she had died and came back to life.

She leaned her body against the counter, “Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

He scoffed and laughed all at once, “You didn’t hear anything I just said? Are you okay?”

His eyes flitting over her face made her chuckle and shake her head, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the upcoming projects I have for work.”

He nodded, though his slightly furrowed eyebrows portrayed confusion, “Okay… Well, Max invited us to go out tonight. There’s a new club a few blocks down that he got on the VIP list for. You in?”

Deciding that maybe going out would somehow remedy the strong belief that no man wanted her, Y/n nodded.

—

“Can you hear me?!” Lando screamed into Max’s ear. His best friend looked at him, a drink in both their hands, and laughed.

“Yes, I can hear you, dumbass! When you yell right in my eardrum, it’s hard not to! What’s up?”

Lando was hesitant before leaning in once more, his tone lowered an octave, “Who is that dancing with Y/n?”

Max followed Lando’s eyeline, finding his good friend grinding up against a man he couldn’t even recognize.

He shook his head, “I don’t know. At least, she’s having fun!” His laughter at his comment died down when he turned his head to see Lando pouting.

Max scoffed, “Mate, you can’t be upset with her venturing out. She doesn’t even know you think of her that way!”

Lando shook his head, “I don’t see her that way.”

Max shoved his shoulder, “All I hear is denial, denial, and fucking denial. When you wake up one morning and find out you loved her all along, don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re too late because she’s with someone else.”

Lando laughed it off, though the pit in his stomach made him want to puke up the alcohol he had consumed for the night. Maybe he had just had one too many, he told himself.

Yeah, it was the alcohol consumption.

Max’s piercing gaze leveled with Lando’s, liquor coursing through the Brit’s veins as he said lowly, “I’m sick and tired of that bullshit.”

Lando rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max nodded feverishly, “Yes, you do! You know I can’t fucking stand the way you shun your feelings for her! I know it’s probably a dick move on my part to tell you how you feel, but if you keep dancing around her, you’re gonna lose her. I don’t want to see that for you.”

Lando shook his head briefly, coolness flowing from him as if Max’s words didn’t strike panic within his blood, “I’m not going to lose her, Max. I think alcohol makes you overdramatic.”

Max groaned and stomped away, liquid sloshing out of his glass as he retreated into the crowd. Lando’s eyes were left to fall back on his Y/n. The man’s hands were on her hips, swaying hers against his as he kissed her neck. He hated the sight and he didn’t know why.

Truthfully, he did know why.

—

“If a guy visits you at work with your favorite coffee order, does that mean he’s interested in you?” Y/n waltzed into the sunlit living room of Max’s apartment, Lando sprawled out on the couch as Max scrolled through his phone on a big chair in the corner.

“Uh, yes.” Max replied quickly, before Lando had the opportunity of selfishly saying no.

Holding her phone in one hand and the other balled in a fist, Y/n blurted, “Are you sure?”

Max pulled himself from his slouched position, looking at her intently and not daring to see the way Lando was eyeing him. He could feel the fiery gaze on his shoulder, “No man is going out of his way to buy you your favorite coffee and come see you at a corporate office for .2 seconds. Trust me, Y/n, the man likes you.”

She nodded her head side to side, “Mmm, maybe.”

”He’s right.” Lando murmured, a heavy heart as he watched her gaze snap to his, as if his thoughts on the subject convinced her more of what was right in front of her.

Max side-glanced him, a war in his head as he tried to decipher Lando and whatever he was trying to accomplish.

“You think?” She whispered, looking down at her phone when it buzzed. A blush across her cheeks made Lando’s heart squeeze.

Did she smile that way when he texted her?

Lando cleared his throat, “What’s this guy’s name? Is this the same guy you were dancing with at the club?”

She nodded, “Yeah, it is. His name is Chris.”

“Last name?” He continued, listening intently for the information.

Y/n laughed, “What? Are you going to Instagram-stalk him or something?”

Yes.

”No. Just curious.” He smiled lightly. All the while, Max was rolling his eyes.

”Chris Greenberg.” She smiled back, a moment between the two where Lando seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes off the grin displayed in front of him.

He sat back, “Alright, most generic name I’ve ever heard, but okay.”

She shook her head at Lando, the smile still on her face as she plopped on the couch beside him.

His arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, his hand toying with the ruffled fabric of her shirt. Lando tried not to fall into the mess of her in his mind yet the soft skin under his fingertips made his mind get away from him. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want the morning where he woke up and he found out he was in love with his best friend to come.

But, he also couldn’t bear the thought of Chris touching her in the way he does. He willed himself not to think about Chris seeing her naked or taking care of her in the way Lando always had. Maybe he had never kissed her, but he had held her hand in moments of pain and he had been there for her when no boyfriends had the privilege of being able to show up. Lando had always been something to her and she had always been something to him, they both knew that.

He wanted her to stay single and he wanted her to stay his precious girl.

And suddenly, he couldn’t deny what he felt for her.

On the couch, with Max a few feet away from them and his fingers only lightly grazing her warmth, Lando’s eyes turned to her and he gave into the pull that he had been fighting for years.

A minute away from begging her to see him for what he needed her to, her phone lit up between them. One singular notification lit up the screen, her lock screen a picture of them two after he had gotten his Silverstone podium. A notification which was from Chris, a blushing emoji next to his name.

His mouth opened from the words he so recklessly wanted to say, he realized what he was about to do: confessing feelings he found out about five seconds ago while Max was sitting next to them. So embarrassed and slowly reaching a state of distraught, Lando retracted his arm from her body.

Y/n grabbed her phone from the space between their legs, opened her phone, and giggled at whatever stared back at her.

Lando knew his face said it all. He was always facially expressive. If she had turned her head, or Max, they would’ve seen it written all over his face. The sickening realization that he was in love with the girl sitting beside him.

Part of him loved that they weren’t paying attention to him, but another part wished she would move her head a few centimeters, catch his eyes, and let him study the way she took his breath away.

—

“Where are you going?” Lando stumbled over his feet as he ran to the door. Y/n in a black, tight dress looking stunning had alarms going off in his head.

Her hand on the door knob, “A date.”

“Why?”

She laughed slowly, “Um, because? Chris asked me? I said yes?”

Lando’s hands rested on his hips, gray sweatpants slugging low on his waist as he stared at her, “Where’s he taking you?”

She mirrored his stance, “Why?”

He scoffed, “Because! I should know where you are! What if he tries to kill you and nobody knows your location?”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and opened the door. In the crack, Lando could see Chris standing against his car with flowers in his hand, looking like everything Y/n deserves and more. Chilling as he realized he’s trying to fight something that is not meant for him. Y/n doesn’t deserve him. She deserves someone who will sleep next to her every night, who won’t leave her every weekend for their job. She deserves someone who is available and dependable. He isn’t that. He will never be that. Chris already is that.

“I will be fine, Lan. Thank you for worrying, but Chris is a nice guy.” She smiled, not giving him room to argue as she slipped out and closed the door.

He stared at the wood for a moment or two, hearing her giggles from outside and knowing how taken she sounded. He wanted her to turn around, to open the door back up and say something that would give him confirmation that Max wasn’t right; that he didn’t realize too late the things he felt for her.

She would never come to the door and Lando would, after fifteen minutes of waiting and hearing the tires drive away, slink back to his bed.

—

She came to the door. Knocking frantically and rambling the moment Lando opened it, Y/n burst into his apartment.

Lando’s hands raised in the air, “Woah, woah, woah, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He watched her face light up before she took a deep breath and withheld his favorite smile, “The date went so amazing, Lan! He is so considerate and… and he listens! Lando, he sat there and listened to me ramble about my family, my friends, and everything else about my life and then asked me questions about the things I was mentioning! He likes the same things I do and he’s so cute and I can genuinely feel like he really likes me this time! He puts in the effort! He! Puts! In! The! Effort! Lando! Seriously, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy!”

Even though he knew it before answering the door, her bursting summary of this perfect guy solidified it for him.

She came to the door, but she didn’t come for him.

He stared at her, his heart emptied out of hope as he watched her big smile dwindle down.

”Why don’t you look happy for me?” She cocked her head as he stared back at her, a dead expression adorning his usually calm face.

”I love you.”

Lando watched her face drop, a hopeful smile morphing into a void. Her bag dropped to her feet and she leaned her head forward, “Stop.”

He blinked at her, “What?”

She looked back up at him, “Stop, Lando. Don’t say that.”

He scoffed, “It’s true!”

Glistening tears pooled in her eyes, “Lando, stop. Don’t be mean.”

He shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”

She roughly wiped the wetness that had fallen to her cheeks before looking at him with such a deadly gaze, “No, you aren’t! This is so fucking selfish of you! For once, I’ve found someone that will put in the effort and that I can genuinely trust in making the right decisions when it comes to me! And, now, here you fucking are, telling me you love me! It’s fucking cruel! Can you just let me be happy just this once? Why can’t I get my chance to be in love? You’ve experienced it! Why can’t you just let me do it?!”

He took a step closer to her and she took one back, “I do want you to be happy! I want you to be with me!”

She crossed her arms, “Oh, and you’re going to make me happy?”

“I will try.” He whispered.

She memorized the heels strapped around her feet, “Not good enough.”

He reared back, “What?”

She willed her eyes to meet his, “Not. Good. Enough. Chris will be good to me, I know that. I can’t trust that you’ll be good to me or be good to me until you get bored and find someone else to have fun with.”

”Is that what you think you are to me?” He asked, his heart reaching out for her, but breaking into pieces for how she views herself in his life before he can get there.

She looked up at him, eyes reddening under the tears, “If I meant something to you, if you loved me, you’d want me to be with the safe option.”

His hand trailed up her arm as tears fell from his cheeks similarly to hers, “I can be the safe option.”

”No, Lando. No, you can’t. I want Chris. I can’t deal with whatever life crisis you’re in the midst of right now.”

He groaned, “It’s not a life crisis. It’s me realizing what you truly mean to me.”

She waved her hand, “Sure, Lando.”

She moved away from his cornering, taking steps toward the door before Lando stopped her, “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”

”I’m going to. I won’t give up the first guy to genuinely show me I mean something deeply to him for someone else who just apparently figured out they loved me after years of spending time together.” She continued by confirming his deepest fears, “You’re not reliable. You can't always be there when I need you to. That’s fine. I understand, but I’m not going to put myself in a spot to get hurt for you.”

He pleaded with her, “Why can’t you just give me a chance?”

”It’s not worth it, Lando.” She stared at him, “Let me be happy.”

”You can be happy with me.”

She shook her head, “Everything looks clearer in the morning, including your feelings for me.”

”What does that even mean?” He questioned, her form retreating to the door and practically screaming at him to let her go.

She sighed, “I’m sure you’re just tired. I’m sure you don’t mean any of this. How could you? Lando, you could get anyone. I’m not the girl you choose.”

Tears falling harder, he exhaled a quick breath, “You are the girl I choose!”

”And how long until I’m not?”

A silence followed, one that gave her enough time to open the door and leave. What was supposed to be the start of a new chapter for her turned into a reference to a past one.

The past chapter in her life where she loved Lando just as he described to her seconds before and a chapter where she convinced herself he would never feel the same. Still, she believed he never would. That what he had said to her was an episode, some dream he was sleep-talking in.

Lando would never pick her in the long run.

Even when he said he would.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris fic #lando smut #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris edit #lando norris fanfiction

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everythingseasoning · 1 year

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How the AOT men love you (SFW & slight NSFW).. PT 1

MINORS: Please DNI. Further reading means you consent to reading everything here, though it's pretty vanilla tbh.

EREN - A bit rough around the edges regarding emotional intimacy. Don't get me wrong, he definitely will straight up tell you "I love you so much, y/n," -- he's not afraid of saying what he feels. However, because he isn't as reflective and insightful and calm as Armin is (Eren's a little more simple-minded), he isn't a guy who does fluffy stuff all the time. He's more about action and adventure -- always pulling you into the next great thing.

*NEEDS* you to be safe, and happy. He will only feel satisfied if you're doing okay. Man cares about you, more than anything else.

Oh .. oh, Eren is definitely very blunt, and stubborn. He sees things in his own way, and it's hard to convince him to back down on anything he's got his mind set to. However, the flip side of this, is that he is fiercely caring, and righteous. Will protect you at all costs, even for little things: Some as*hole at the grocery store cut you off in line and you almost fell to the ground? Eren has a hand on your back and waist, steadying you, before he storms up to the man with the DARKEST look of determined hatred. This man has ZERO chill. (and we love him for it).

You are the most important thing in the world to him. He loves you so intensely and passionately that you won't have a chance to ever doubt it.

Fluff 1) You and Eren like to go on walks/runs together. Sometimes you two have races. Eren always wins (the little b*tch--) or ends up slinging you across his shoulder while running, the biggest smile on both of your faces as you two enjoy the rush of being with each other, and life. Life with Eren is just so right, exciting, and full of good times.

Fluff 2) Just how many beautiful waterfalls have you seen with Eren? You've even hiked a purple-flower covered mountain with him! And you've both tried many wild fruits, from the strange oblong shaped ones to pretty yellow star shaped ones-- Usually you were the one to notice the fruit while Eren glanced giddily all around the forest canopy and ground. It was tradition that whenever you two discovered another fruit plant/tree, Eren opens up the Wild Fruits and Plants You Can Eat book, gifted to you by Armin ("So that Eren doesn't accidentally eat something poisonous.") Sometimes Eren is not as bouncy with energy when you two explore the world, and instead he will hold your hand as you two stroll casually, cuddling up on each other's warmth.

NSFW 1) Eren isn't afraid to just.. straight up ask you.. when he wants it. He will look you up and down, eyes full of hunger. "I want you. How 'bout you?" Whewwww. 😮‍💨

LEVI - ohh boy i have so much to say about this little dude...

Would go absolutely crazy and turn into a battle demon, if he saw the love of his life in danger. ...

If Levi somehow found the right somebody, and actually spent enough time with them to be in a relationship, he would NEED his partner to be safe. He will not risk losing you-- he won't. Not after Isabel and Farlan..not again. So if you're ever in danger, you will see an overpowered beast emerge from that man's body and soul.

Levi isn't the best at emotional intimacy, is very stiff when it comes to words of affirmation. He hadn't ever really thought about love. He never even thought he'd have the option to be safe physically, let alone be safe emotionally. --But when he does meet that person, they light up his life in ways that just stun him. They feel like a summer's glow. He will look 10 years younger with you by his side, will feel unprecedented relief whenever he goes back to you. Will scare all the cadets because he will have this stupid smile on his face whenever he sees you.

--But Levi is not used to being loved deeply. He wouldn't know what to DO with your love, and he'd definitely have trouble opening up and being vulnerable. Nonetheless, I do think he'd try; he has initiative to do well to you, and to give you everything he can give to you (starts off with him being your literal guardian demon, progresses into him becoming soft to you). It'd take time and effort for him to learn how to love you properly.

Fluff 1) In the beginning stages of your relationship, Levi would enjoy cleaning with you. He would find himself giving you commands to do more chores (with him).. because he -- wants to -- be with you -- so often??? (won't ever never admit this).

NSFW 1) Levi is a v*rgin. Yes. Yes he (most likely) is. He never met the right person before you, so he never had a chance/time to indulge in s*x. The first time you and Levi have s*x, Levi will have his mouth CLAMPED shut-- trying not to make a noise, trying to control his expressions of pleasure. You'll have to teach him/encourage him to just let go lol.

NSFW 2) Levi wanted to have s*x with you for so damn long cause he's soooo attracted to you, but he will not initiate it LOLLLL. He just doesn't know HOW to ask for that. You had to feel up on him and really let him know you wanted it (breathy whispers and requests), before he FINALLY took the reigns and pinned you against the wall, kissing you hard before taking you to the bedroom~~!!

Also, he's a fast learner. (Imagine with that what you will 🥵).

Fluff 3) & After you two finish, he will clean you up immediately. But after that he won't let you go. Will hold you in a hug for an eternity. Is addicted to your warmth and the love/care you two give to each other.

ARMIN - OH MY GOD NO BECAUSE - i'm so in love with this man - oKAYYY: Armin is a very thoughtful, perceptive, and practical lover. You would feel *so safe* around him, at ease, and like you can be your full self. He's very accepting.

Armin is also going to *look out for you.* He is insanely analytically accurate. He has a clear, reassuring, and gentle energy about him. You know that with Armin, you'll be protected from any new obstacle or harm's way.

You and Armin would see the world for fun. Armin is somebody who feels fascinated with exploring the world, and with learning. He'd probably want a partner who is brave. He'd probably want somebody whose actions or way of doing life, amaze him. He would be so f*cking blushy around you, stuttering and all, whenever you smile so brightly at him -- you're like the sun to him.

Armin *would die for you.* He practically died already, for Eren & the mission. Armin wouldn't hesitate to give himself up, because that's how deep and true his love is for you. (And you genuinely get mad at him for this... but neither of you will budge-- you'd both die for each other).

Fluff 1) You and Armin like to read together :'). Armin will have red blush dusted across his cheeks, and his eyes will be shining as he talks excitedly, imagining all the things the book talks about. You adore it.

Fluff 2) You tell Armin you had a rough day, and he will set up a bath for you. While you bathe in the dark with candles, Armin will be in the kitchen with stew or soup simmering on the stove, before he quietly leaves the house: He will personally scour the bookstore in order to find a book that he thinks will make you smile-- or a book you two will both enjoy reading together/discussing together. Literally this man is like light okay. When you come out from the shower he will be there with a fresh, steaming bowl of stew and a dessert he picked up from the store. You two will eat together and then read a book, cozily cuddling on the couch.. before things get s*xy.

NSFW 1) This man is a *PLEASURER* -- Everything will be gentle, but imbued with such strong love for YOU. Will worship your body. Armin will feel like the luckiest man alive. He sees all your goodness, admires you, and is huge on praising you. Also he moans a lot, even if it's just a soft one that escapes him. Not sorry.

NSFW 2) For my switches/d0ms: You care deeply for Armin, and you also want to see his face when he's a writhing mess-- Sometimes you'll tie him up, and he will... oh he will be so helpless and flustered. You will be giving him all the sensation and he will *love it so much.*

REINER - Somebody come get yo man TT!! Reiner is a f*cking sweet, really good guy. Would protect you and your children (if you have them)-- with EVERYTHING he has -- from difficult, unfair situations (like what he was put through). But, Reiner also probably would want somebody who is strong, because strength means you can protect yourself, and change the world -- Strength is a necessary trait for survival, and he is attracted towards people who are able to stay efficient and alive.

Reiner wants a morally beautiful/morally pure hearted partner. Definitely wants a good person (I mean... Him and Historia in Season, what was is, 2? --speaks for itself). AND I MEANNN Reiner has such a soft heart-- he literally cracked psychologically because he couldn't handle the trauma of being a double agent in a cruel world-- so his pure heart seeks out another pure heart <3

Reiner would ADORE relaxation time with you! He wants the soft fluff, and the soulful moments, like laying together under the stars-- being safe, peaceful, *free.* Reiner has had the burden of war and the Armored Titan like a boulder on his shoulders for ... as long as he can remember. When you're both cozied up together, hands interlaced under the big night sky, Reiner's heart will have bursted and melted all throughout his body. He hasn't ever felt freedom before-- until you. (don't mind me f*cking sobbing right now. he deserves the world!!)

Fluff 1) You and Reiner sometimes do typical, fluffy couple stuff, like go to parks and have picnics, or going to the aquarium, or baking together. Reiner loves the domestic life with you, and you will always catch him gazing dreamily at you, as if he's not sure you're really his. Are you actually right there in front of him? How did he get this lucky? ..Man short circuits a lot around you.

Will definitely be so caught up in his smittenness for you that when you drop the bread dough on the ground and start getting upset/sad, he will just be staring at you like o// //o, not even realizing what happened.

NSFW: I honestly haven't thought about this but I will update this post when I do have some accurate guess on what Reiner in the bedroom is like-- (you can comment if you wanna be tagged for when I do finish this post/ make part two)

𐡘 \

Don't forget to leave a like, or to comment/follow if you want!! Comment to be tagged in part 2! (Jean, Eld, Marco, Bertholt, Connie, Porco, Zeke, etc etc) Feel free to comment! I'd LOVE to hear y'all's thoughts on this post <3! Hope ur all okay.

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meangirls-imagines · 2 months

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Frat Parties Suck

Description: It's basically that episode of SLOCG where Leighton and Alicia kiss for the first time but reader replaces Alicia.

WARNINGS: leighton being a gay mess, reader getting beat up, love confessions, fluff

leighton was extremely nervous.

not for her brother or his fraternity. no, she didn't really care about them. she was nervous because the girl she had been pining over for the last two weeks was going to said frat to "inspect" it.

she met y/n after she got assigned community service for underage drinking and vandalism (that she thinks if she doesn't remember it happening, it didn't happen). the president of the school didn't take too kindly to that and sent leighton to the campus women's center.

her and y/n butt heads the second they met. leighton thought she was too good for the women's center and tried to bribe y/n but the girl wasn't having it. by the end of their first conversation, leighton was storming out of the building pissed off and turned on. y/n was hot as shit.

the weeks went by and somehow some way, the blonde managed to kinda weasel her way into y/n's life. she had been making y/n smile more than yell so she thought she was getting somewhere.

and then the frat party came up.

while going through clothes they were going to donate, towa brought up the plan of the group going to a drag brunch, leighton politely declined, stating that theta was throwing a huge party. the group went silent and leighton looked confused. she smiled at them. "why is everyone so quiet? did i say something triggering again?"

y/n spoke up. "i get that your brother is in theta, but frats can be extremely sexist, toxic nightmares. we have been campaigning to get rid of greek life for over a year." leighton sighed. i know frats get a bad rep but theta actually does good. they just finished a construction project in mexico." y/n scoffed. "yeah, for the bar that they burned down."

leighton sighed again. "okay, maybe they aren't perfect but have any of you actually been to a frat party?" silence. the blonde grinned. "so we're making a judgmental assumption?" leighton smiled at y/n who smiled back. "you're right. i mean we shouldn't be judging theta until we go to one of their parties." leighton nodded, satisfied with how the conversation went.

"so maybe we should all go tonight."

leighton shot it down instantly. "no! you guys have your super fun....plans." y/n shook her head. "no, we are going to give theta a chance to prove us wrong. send me the invite." y/n crossed her arms and leighton shamelessly stared at the girl's biceps.

i wonder how they would feel around my ne-

"leighton, you still with us?"

the blonde nodded. "yup. invite. i will send it."

leighton stood next to her brother, impressed with how fast theta changed gears for the party. "we got rid of any and all triggers." the blonde smiled at nico. "yeah, it looks good. i don't think there's anything that the women's center will hate." speak of the devil(s), ginger, towa and the rest of the women's center crew walked in, sans y/n. nico offered to show the girls around as leighton let out a breath, sighing deeply.

then, like something out of a movie, y/n walked in, sighing. leighton felt like she was going to pass out at how hot the girl looked. she wasn't dressed too fancy, a hoodie and some jeans, but leighton felt like she couldn't breathe. y/n smiled at the girl, walking towards her. "so, tonight is going to be a shit show isn't it?"

leighton laughed. "oh yeah. um, do you want a drink?" y/n laughed. "oh, i already pregamed in the driveway but yeah, let's keep drinking shall we?" leighton giggled and led the way to the drinks.

tonight was going to be a long night.

nico was in the middle of explaining how parties worked at theta before y/n cut him off. "you can calm down nico, i know you think that i'm some big, scary lesbian protester or something." nico laughed a little. "i did not know you were a lesbian. it would be rude of me to assume that." leighton rolled her eyes. "nico. less. please." nico straightened up as y/n laughed. "dude, i'm just here to have a good time. now, will you please hold my feet for a keg stand?"

nico looked shocked and then smirked. "only if you hold mine afterwards." both girls looked at him blankly before he whispered. "equality." leighton shook her head before spotting cory. "oh look, it's cory, i'm going to go and talk to him." she left without another word as y/n and nico went to the keg.

after dominating all the games with nico, y/n found leighton outside nursing a drink. "hey." leighton looked up and smiled at y/n. "hey. heard you and nico kicked ass. congrats." y/n chuckled. "all in a day's work." y/n glanced behind her and saw a trash can overflowing with sombreros. "uh, why are there so many sombreros in that trash can?" leighton winced. "i think that they ditched some of the more problematic elements of the party when they heard we were coming and by problematic i mean deeply, deeply racist."

y/n laughed as leighton saw kimberly frantically waving at her from behind y/n. "um, i will be right back, it looks like my roommate needs me for something." y/n nodded. "i get it, i'll be here." leighton smiled shyly and headed toward kimberly.

leighton wasn't gone for five minutes before nico came running towards her and her roommates. "nico? are you good?" nico was panting. "you gotta come with me. it's y/n. some dude called her a dyke and she said something back and then he just started beating the shit out of her."

leighton's heart dropped to her stomach. she took off running in the direction nico came and found the group of people that had gathered. she pushed through the crowd and gasped at the sight of y/n. her face was covered in blood thanks to the gash above her eyebrow. it also didn't help that her nose was bleeding. leighton could already imagine the shiner y/n was going to have tomorrow.

she rushed to the beaten girl's side, gently cupping her face. "y/n? can you hear me?" the girl softly groaned, covering leighton's hand with her own. leighton sighed in relief. nico kneeled on the other side of the girl, ordering his frat brothers to get rid of the guy. "leighton we have to take her to the hospital." that's when y/n spoke. "no..no hospital." it was slurred but leighton was able to make out what the girl said.

leighton sighed. the best thing would be to take y/n to the hospital but she also didn't want to go against the girl's wishes. she stood, making a decision. "no. we're taking her to my dorm."

an hour later, thanks to nico, leighton and y/n made their way back to the blonde's dorm. the girls had gone out to get some stuff to help maintain y/n's injuries since the first aid kit kimberly had wasn't going to be enough. leighton was grateful that her and y/n had some alone time. thanking nico for helping her, she grabbed a washcloth she had in her room and a water bottle, using it to wet the towel.

she gently began wiping the drying blood off the girl's face, being careful of the cuts that littered her skin. y/n groaned a little before leighton gently shushed her. "shhh, you're okay y/n. you're safe." y/n groaned again, grabbing leighton's hand that was cleaning her face. "mmm..leighton. my face hurts."

the blonde's heart broke and she took a risk. she gently kissed y/n's forehead, letting her lips linger. "i know, the girls are getting you some stuff to take care of that okay? they'll be here soon." y/n moaned in pain as leighton began to gently wipe her face again.

the girls soon returned and allowed leighton to finish cleaning y/n up. they all checked in on the girl before bela went to hang out in kimberly and whitney's room. leighton sat next to a cleaned up y/n, running her fingers through the girl's hair. y/n smiled at the contact. she pulled the blonde to lay next to her. "you know, i hear cuddles from a pretty girl are the best medicine." leighton giggled before making herself comfortable on y/n's chest.

the two laid in silence before leighton spoke up. "i was so scared. seeing you like that. i didn't think you were going to get up and there was so much blood and-" y/n shushed her, pulling the blonde closer to her. "i'm okay leight. i'm here aren't i? i have the hottest nurse taking care of me too." leighton laughed before sitting up and looking at y/n.

y/n noticed leighton's eyes shining in a way she hadn't seen before. it was like y/n hung the moon and the stars. she couldn't stop herself from gently cupping leighton's cheek, rubbing the girl's cheekbone with her thumb. leighton couldn't take it anymore. she leaned down and slowly placed her lips on y/n's.

fireworks went off in y/n's head as she kissed the girl back. all this time, she thought leighton was straight. just a common, cis blonde woman. boy was she wrong. the two kissed for a little longer then leighton pulled away. y/n looked shocked. "woah. i was really wrong about you." leighton chuckled before leaning in again.

"shut up."

#leighton murray x reader #leighton murray imagine #leighton murray

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gurugirl · 7 months

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Just For Tonight | Ch. 3

This is the last part of this mini series! We might have some more coming for you - stay tuned!

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Is it true what they say? Does distance really make the heart grow fonder? Y/n isn't so sure so she tries to move on. But Harry has other plans.

A/N: In this chapter I mention a particular ex (without naming her) as part of the plot. This does not mean I feel one way or another about her, nor do I think this is an accurate representation of how she's acted after their split. This was requested for the story. This is a work of fiction.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, mentions of an ex, angst

Word Count: 11.8k

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

It had been difficult for Y/n to stop thinking about Harry. They connected so well and she loved the way he was with her and how he carried himself. Loved the way they could talk about nothing and have it feel like the most interesting thing.

They had a few calls after he left LA for his tour. But that quickly became hard to navigate with the different time zones. He said he liked her and wanted to see her again. And she was sure that when he said that he meant it. The distance won, however.

But with his absence, with him being in another country on tour, and hundreds of people begging for a chance of what she got lucky enough to experience, she figured that what she’d gotten was probably all she’d ever get.

And that was okay. It wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted more of him. Would have loved to have seen him but she knew he was too famous and too amazing to settle for someone like her. She knew better than to ever get her hopes up. He’d done nothing wrong.

Instagram showed pictures of him with his friends and a mystery woman. A woman who was with him at one of his concerts. And then another one. Photos of them walking along the streets together. A fuzzy snap of them at a small café huddled closely. That was also okay. There had been no promises or commitments made.

Y/n hated to do it, hated to open up Instagram but her curiosity about Harry and if he’d been spotted by fans was eating at her. A DuexMoi post with a screenshot from his recent long-term ex’s Instagram account had her feeling nauseated. It was a subtle thing. Nothing specific but everyone picked up on the meaning. The text was a quote from a book she’d been reading over a picture of a close-up of her wearing a cross necklace.

The comments on what it meant were all over the place. And Y/n knew better than to read into anything too deeply or to fixate on something like this. Harry had brought up his ex once when their conversation was relevant to it. Said that she continued reaching out to him and that even when it was clear they were over the woman still called him and sent him messages on the regular.

And as much as she knew that it was probably nothing she couldn’t shake the way it felt to think of Harry and his ex getting back together somehow. She didn’t know anything about what he was doing at that moment because their calls had all but stopped by then. But the post from his ex was a signal. Did it mean anything? Maybe. But maybe it only meant something to his ex. Perhaps Harry hadn’t even seen it.

However, the comments on the post suggested they were talking again and reports of them trying to “work it out” were numerous.

And with that idea, she decided to log back into her stupid dating app. Try and get over the pop star once and for all. Move on if she could.

She’d had one good date from the app ages ago. The rest of the men who contacted her were absolute wastes but perhaps she’d find someone once again who she could tolerate for longer than a chat session. She’d give it a shot.

. . .

“But you did take her call?” Jeff spoke over the phone as Harry walked back to the hotel after a training session with Brad.

“Well, yeah. We have history. I didn’t want to be rude. Haven’t talked to her in a while. Thought maybe it could be important.”

“And was it?” Jeff sounded exasperated.

“No. She just said she missed me. Wants to see me when I get back to the States.”

Harry knew when he saw the incoming call from his ex that he probably shouldn’t pick up. But that was the thing about him. He was a people pleaser. He didn’t like when anyone was upset with him and he liked being on everyone’s good side. Even if it meant answering a call he didn’t want to take.

And part of him missed her. Missed what they had at the very beginning but he’d truly moved on. Especially with the idea that he’d be getting back to LA soon and seeing Y/n again. He hoped he hadn’t ruined it with her. It was hard to keep in contact with her. Too many missed calls and back-and-forth voicemails. Even the texts with Y/n had dwindled slowly. He understood that the distance was hard to overcome but that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to hopefully seeing her again.

He knew if he had the chance to see her again and she still wanted to give it a shot with him he wouldn’t be letting go next time. He’d make it official. He’d want to really do it right with her. And he’d have a little time off from the tour to dote on her and give her lots of attention. Maybe even convince her that she should just travel with him wherever he went off to. Convince her that she should be his and that he would do everything he could to make her happy like she deserved.

He hoped it wasn’t too late.

And now with the new Instagram post from his ex the gossip had begun. Full articles written about how he and his ex were getting back together again, how it was true love, and a bunch of other nonsense that her story caused. And Jeff was pissed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t have taken her call. That’s sending her mixed signals and now with that godforsaken post she put up you’re already getting hate messages about taking her back. Calling you complicit. It’s a nightmare.”

Sometimes Harry really hated being famous. He didn’t even have to do much to get scrutiny. Sometimes one small little blunder, like answering a call could set off a chain of events that led him to where he was now, getting his ear chewed off by Jeff and having his fans upset with him.

But his main concern was if Y/n had seen it or not. He wondered what she thought about it. If she cared. He wondered how she was. If she’d seen anyone while he was gone. He missed her.

. . .

The job at The Dulcería had turned out to be one of the best things ever, income-wise anyway. She was exhausted and had little free time but she was pulling in pretty healthy tips and when it came time to pay her rent she had plenty left over to pay on time and stick the rest in savings.

Vyra steered clear for the most part but she did hover a bit any time Y/n had a table with a high roller or celebrity. Which, Y/n came to learn that not all celebrities tipped like Harry Styles. In fact, some tipped worse than normies to her shock.

One particularly demanding uber-famous model with her model friends was nice at first. Needed things brought out in a certain order, the wine had to be perfectly chilled or she wouldn’t drink from her glass, and then there was the lighting issue. She and her friends were snapping photos of themselves “eating” and the lights weren’t right.

Their table was full of The Dulcería’s most exclusive and expensive desserts (which the restaurant was famous for) and yet only a few bites were taken after uploading all their photos to Instagram. It was a shame that all of it had to be tossed when their table was cleared. It felt like it should be illegal. Belgian fine chocolate ganache, freshly made lemon curd, berries from the local market selected that very morning, handpicked herbs, candied pistachios, and fresh lavender cream. All that waste for nothing.

The tip that was left after that three-hour debacle was less than 5% of the bill. She assumed the woman who supposedly had many millions of dollars to her name would have given a better tip on a nearly $3,000 tab. Just imagine watching a rich woman clad in designer carrying a purse most people had to get on a waitlist for leaving a $145 tip on a $3,000 tab.

Still, even then, she was bringing in good tips and couldn’t complain often.

Her feet hurt and she smelled like the restaurant through and through at the end of her shifts. If she could have just collapsed into her bed and gone to sleep she would have. But the thought of not showering off first made her skin crawl. She needed the scent of food and spilled wine scrubbed from her pores.

And like she did nearly every night before falling asleep, she checked social media and then checked her dating app to see if there were any hits. Any worthy of a response from her.

One evening she did hear from a man who seemed intriguing. He appeared to be normal and handsome. So she sent him a response and opened up the chat option if he wanted to pursue something.

And the following day at the office she and Jimmy had chatted intermittently. She felt that sweet little familiar bubble of excitement in her tummy when her phone gave her a notification that he’d messaged her.

They made plans to meet up in person on a Wednesday after work at a bar near to her house.

It had been almost two months since she’d seen Harry. He did message her a few weeks prior but there was no call and when she responded he didn’t respond back. She figured it was time to look for something a little more serious. She knew better than to assume she and Harry were endgame. No matter how good the sex and connection were.

She stopped stalking Instagram and googling to find out where he was in the world. It was better for her own mental health to try and move on from him. He had been a fun fling. A great guy. Maybe one of the best “hookups” she’d ever had. Not maybe. He definitely was. He had been kind and thoughtful and fun. And he was great in bed.

But it was time to put that behind her now. A date with a nice, normal guy was in order. She just hoped she could erase the way Harry made her feel and that she wouldn’t compare every guy she tried dating to the pop star.

Jimmy was attractive in person to her delight. He worked downtown not far from where she did and they talked about mundane things like their commute (anyone living in or around LA will understand this is a hot topic), the buildings they worked in, and their jobs. When Y/n revealed she worked as a waitress on the side Jimmy seemed impressed by her even more.

After a few glasses of wine and for Jimmy, beer, they decided to part ways. It had been a good first meetup. Y/n was feeling buzzy and excited. Hopeful.

The chats with Jimmy continued but moved from the app to texts. They had plans to meet up again Monday evening.

Her weekend shift at The Dulcería was like any other. Tips were good. Some of the patrons were just so-so. Vyra was annoying but gave her space. But she was exhausted. She only worked an extra 18 hours a week as a waitress but after a few months, it began to wear on her.

So when Monday came around and she walked to the same bar to meet up with Jimmy she didn’t expect that the text she’d be getting wouldn’t be from her date.

Just as she was pushing through the doors to the bar she looked at her notification screen and nearly dropped her phone.

It was Harry.

She paused by the door for a moment, contemplating whether or not to read the text to see what he wanted or to wait until after her date. She decided on the latter out of respect for Jimmy.

The problem was, though, that Y/n couldn’t get it out of her mind what it was that Harry had texted her. It had been long enough that she figured he’d completely moved on. And was it fair of him to reach out again after all that time?

So, instead of feeling flattered, she started to feel the tiny crawling of annoyance and frustration dragging up her spine.

“I’d like to see you again soon. Maybe we can get dinner next time. Take a walk afterward along the boardwalk or something?” Jimmy said as he hugged Y/n goodbye before they went their separate ways.

“That sounds great. I’m free Sunday night if you want to do it then. Kind of hard most Fridays and Saturdays,” she shrugged as she felt Jimmy squeeze her hand.

“Sunday night sounds perfect. Can I pick you up?”

. . .

Hey, how are you? Miss you.

She read the text over and over again. That was all it said but why? Why send it? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t be allowed to text her. He had her number. They’d slept together a couple of times and had gotten to know one another beyond just surfacey stuff. But still.

Instead of texting him back, she decided to leave him on read. She needed time to figure out how to respond. What to say, or if she should say anything. Maybe she should just leave it so he got the hint about what was going on. That she didn’t want to open up that chapter again and get herself hurt. Because she would get her heart broken by Harry if she let herself get lost in it.

And it wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong at all. It was clear that what had happened between them had just been casual. Good, fun sex. So responding to him wouldn’t have been weird but there was a part of her that felt like maybe he’d dug his way into her heart a little more than she was ready to admit. If she was taking his innocent text so seriously and pondering it so deeply, perhaps there was more to it. Which meant she needed to let it go for her own good.

So she did leave him on read. But more for her sake than his she figured.

. . .

Harry couldn’t understand why she hadn’t responded. He could see that she’d read the text. But why not respond? He wondered if this meant she’d moved on. Maybe she’d seen that post from his ex and figured he was on his way to getting back with her somehow amidst all the rumors.

He was aware of how things were between himself and Y/n. He’d given in and fucked his own rule to not sleep with someone who was supposed to be a one-time thing more than once. To go back for more. But when he saw her that night at the restaurant he felt like somehow it was fate. Not like a deep sort of forever kind of fate, but more like a this is okay to indulge in more than once kind of fate. He usually didn’t like doing that but with Y/n it felt different. And she was hot. And funny. And the way she handled him in bed had definitely left a mark on him. She wasn’t just a fan or a casual sex partner. She wasn’t just some girl.

So that’s why he texted her. He was coming back to LA in a couple of weeks. Figured they could see one another again and have some fun. But maybe that was the problem. She was more than just fun for a night. He liked her a lot. And perhaps she was feeling something similar and needed to put that distance there so she didn’t get hurt. Harry could understand that.

While he was away he had one of his good friends along with him. He liked to have someone he trusted, which was rare in his world. He had a hard time trusting most people. She was easygoing and didn’t want anything from him sexually so she was a perfect confidant and companion to have traveling with him. It was nice to have friends like her. Something that didn’t need to be anything but friendly. Someone that he could joke around with and not worry much about being on his best behavior with.

She even gave him great advice about Y/n and then his ex after the disaster of her Instagram post. He knew he’d been snapped with her as he was out and about. On walks, in restaurants, in group settings. There were of course the usual rumors that they were dating but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He imagined that Y/n had seen the photos of him walking with the girl next to him. Plus the post from his ex wasn’t helping matters. Maybe it had all been too much for Y/n? Or maybe he was overthinking it all. He wasn’t quite ready to give up but he’d let her be until he returned.

. . .

Jimmy took Y/n to a cute little Mexican spot Sunday night and they ordered margaritas and Baja tacos with guacamole and cactus salad.

And Jimmy looked extra attractive that evening. She hadn’t noticed before then that his forearms were so thick. He had a sweater on that he’d pushed up to his elbows baring his arms. A bit of scruff on his face. And he smelled nice.

She felt like maybe they’d had enough dates and had gotten to know one another well enough that going back to his place might be fun. She wouldn’t mind a fun romp in the sack with him.

So when they walked back to Jimmy’s car she decided to go out on a limb, “Would you… what do you think about maybe going back to your place together? Or mine? I was thinking we could kind of relax and continue our conversation a bit?”

Jimmy opened the passenger door for her to let her into his car, “Oh. Yeah! Absolutely. Whichever place is better for you. It’s up to you. Mine or yours.”

And because Y/n wanted to do more than just “continue their conversation” she figured his place was best since Brad was probably home. The last time she had a man in her bed was Harry and Brad hinted at having heard them the next day. Not something she wanted to repeat nor subject poor Brad to again.

Jimmy lived in a one-bedroom apartment. He had no roommates which was ideal.

“So, I just want to tell you that right now I’m not looking for a serious relationship. I still have my profile up and kind of chatting with another girl but it hasn’t gone anywhere. I think once we get to know one another a little more maybe we can talk about being exclusive. Does that sound okay?”

She appreciated Jimmy’s honesty. And she was glad that he told her before they’d gotten any further. Because they were both sitting on his couch and making out heavily. In fact, her hand was already slowly making its way up his thigh when he stopped her to come clean.

She paused and thought for a moment. Was that okay? She began to nod and turned her gaze back to her date, “Thank you for telling me. And yeah… I think I can agree to that. Let’s just keep being honest with one another like this and I think it’ll be really good,” she leaned in when Jimmy grinned at her answer and she climbed over his lap, not ready to stop the direction they were already headed.

And just as she’d intended when she left the restaurant with Jimmy they had sex after clearing the air about their status.

It was good. She liked having sex. She didn’t do it a lot. Maybe she’d have one or two a year at most. Hopefully, Jimmy would be someone she could keep around. She hated dating and finding someone she could trust.

Jimmy didn’t get her off, though. He tried. He ate her out, which she was already very pleased with. Not all men would go down on a woman without having to be prompted. Jimmy was eager.

But when that didn’t get her off she told him to get a condom so they could have sex.

Again, he was eager. Quite good really. But as was typical for having sex with anyone for the first time, she didn’t come. She was nice and wet and super turned on but it just didn’t happen.

She didn’t mind much. He did hit some really good spots that made her moan and got her close a few times. He tried rubbing her clit to get her off before he could come but it didn’t do it for her. She guided his fingers over her the way she liked but he needed time to figure out her body a little. Nothing wrong with that at all.

And he knew she didn’t come. He was disappointed in himself when he pumped into his condom and groaned in his orgasm. He apologized profusely and tried to eat her out again but she was tired. They’d been going at it for a while because his goal was to make her come.

“It’s okay. Really. Jimmy, you’re so good. It’s always like this the first time for me. I had so much fun with you.” She cupped his jaw.

While what she was saying was mostly true, she couldn’t stop imagining how Harry had gotten her off his first time. And the second time and the following morning before he left. She tried to swallow down those thoughts and not let that interrupt her moment with Jimmy but she couldn’t help it. Harry’s moves were just better and his dirty talk and his body. And his cock. And him.

She closed her eyes to squeeze out that image from her mind. There was nothing wrong with Jimmy’s body or his dick. He was fine. She was sure that after some work he’d be getting her off soon enough. They’d eventually get very comfortable with one another and sex would be better and she’d orgasm easier.

Really at the end of the day she wanted to feel close with someone. And she got exactly that with Jimmy. He pulled her into his chest and they fell asleep in his bed. She might have not gotten her orgasm but she got the connection and closeness she’d been craving and missing.

. . .

The following week they skipped going out for a date altogether and Jimmy cooked for her at his place. He was a pretty romantic person. A genuinely nice guy. Handsome, funny, smart. But their second time having sex was not different from the first. Y/n was sure she’d come and had gotten close a few times but it still just didn’t happen.

And for the first time in her life ever, she faked it. She felt she had to. The poor guy was suffering. He was hammering into her and grunting and shaking, continually pulling out before he could release. For nearly half an hour that was the scene.

He tried holding her legs to the side and thrusting into her as he hovered over her but she needed something more, she was sure. Her own fingers at her clit and his cock slipping in and out just didn’t do the job. So she got on all fours and Jimmy’s bed creaked and bounced and it felt really good. Just not good enough.

Finally, when she rode him she felt that yummy gooey thing she always got just before coming but the moment she began to quiver and just before she could come Jimmy’s words halted any further gooeyness, “Finally, fuck!”

That had done it. She wasn’t going to come. He didn’t mean it to be rude, she was sure. Jimmy was the sweetest guy, truly. But that little bit was all she needed and her orgasm was ruined. So when she felt him throbbing in his condom she moaned and clenched and did all the stupid acting a porn star would to fake her orgasm.

For him to say finally in response to thinking she was coming. Really? That had irked her. She wished he hadn’t said that.

But it didn’t deter her. She really did like the guy. And surely the third time would be the charm. Except it wasn’t. The following morning he ate her out and then they had sex and he got off while she faked it again. She had to get going anyway because it was Monday morning and she had to be at the office.

It felt good to be dating someone. Even if it was casual. Jimmy had mentioned he hadn’t seen anyone else, but she didn’t miss it when he said “yet”. And part of her preferred it casual with Jimmy. Liked that her options were still open for the time being. But it did feel good to be in a relationship of sorts. Felt nice to know that someone liked her enough to keep texting her and seeing her and wanted to sleep with her. It felt grownup. That’s what she wanted. Connection. Relationship. And that’s what Jimmy gave her. In due time they would be more sexually compatible. She was sure.

On Friday night at the restaurant, she was given a couple of large groups. They were relatively nice. Perfectly well-behaved groups. Jimmy had been texting her all night. He was hoping to see her and have her stay over until the following morning before she had to be at work.

She hadn’t decided if she would or not. She sort of wanted to sleep her morning away before needing to be on her feet all night again. And she figured she could use her dildo and make herself come because she was sure Jimmy couldn’t. She knew that he wanted to have sex with her and at that point it just sounded exhausting. Now every time they got together the night ended with sex and a failed orgasm on her part. She didn’t know if something was wrong with her or if maybe she wasn’t as compatible with Jimmy as she thought. But she knew one thing. He wasn’t getting her off like she needed. And her feelings about that were giving her pause. She wondered if she was just settling for casual dates with Jimmy. Wondering if Harry had ruined her for anyone else.

So when she was suddenly interrupted coming out of the kitchen to check on one of her tables she jumped at his voice. It had been unexpected.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” She looked around and the bustling restaurant and then back up at the handsome man. Her body tingled at his presence and she got that lightheaded excitedness that she felt every time she saw him. And she realized that that was something she never experienced with Jimmy.

“I just wanted to say hi. You hadn’t texted me back the last time I reached out and I’m here for dinner right now and saw you walking back and forth. Just wanted to see how you are.”

She didn’t realize Harry had been there. Usually, the servers would mention any time anyone famous came in.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m well. Just… gosh I’ve been really busy. How have you been? I didn’t know you were back.” She decided not to address the fact that she hadn’t responded to his text nearly a month ago.

“I’m great. Been back in LA for almost a week. Missed you.”

Missed you. Yeah, she missed him too if she were honest. But she’d been pushing it all down. Covering up her feelings with Jimmy.

“That’s… I uh… missed you too.” She didn’t know what else to say. Out loud anyway. Internally she was telling him all about how the guy she’d been dating was super sweet but terrible in bed. Well, not terrible. But not Harry. And he didn’t make her feel all floaty and full of syrup and butterflies and anticipation the way Harry did. How she was having trouble connecting with Jimmy the way she could with Harry. God, how she’d love to have another round with him again. Feel that yummy stretch he gave her, that sharp deep poke, listen to his deep voice in her ear as he coaxed her through an orgasm that had her shaking and slobbering into the sheets.

“Yeah? Maybe I can see you after? I’ll stick around til you get off.”

Her mind was playing tricks on her. Til you get off. Yeah, she knew that would happen if she allowed him to stick around. She’d get off all right. He’d see to it. She should say no. Should tell him she’s seeing someone. It’s not serious but she shouldn’t do that to Jimmy. But then again…

“Okay. Yeah. I’d like that. Should be done here in an hour and a half. Is that okay?”

“F’course. I’ll be here.”

She felt immediate guilt. Jimmy didn’t deserve to be put on the back burner. He was too sweet. And there was nothing wrong with him. Sex wasn’t amazing but it wasn’t bad and eventually, she’d get used to him and she’d orgasm with him. Surely. Right? But the biggest thing that nagged at her was the way she felt around Harry. Just having him standing before her and speaking to her had her feeling things she realized she never felt with Jimmy. Maybe Jimmy wasn’t a good match for her.

And she and Jimmy weren’t exclusive. That had been made clear at the beginning. Jimmy did say that he wasn’t ready to be serious with anyone and that he wanted to get to know her for a while before any commitments were made. So it wasn’t like she was actually doing anything wrong. And it wasn’t as if Harry was asking her to have sex with him. Not by any means. Perhaps it was just to chat. To just catch up.

. . .

It was most definitely not just to chat. But of course, she knew that. Harry had her in his bed nearly the minute they walked into his huge mansion. It was the first time she’d been to his place and she barely had a moment to look around before he was dragging her to his master suite. They’d made out the entire way from the restaurant to his place in the back of the car. She couldn’t help it. It was like magic between them. Like fate. Like they were meant to be. She felt powerless to it.

“God I missed you,” he whispered into her neck as he gripped the back of her head, “Have never kissed anyone with softer lips.”

She was wet nearly instantly. Jimmy had to work hard to get her in the state she was with Harry after only five minutes of a hot, backseat makeout session.

In his room, she pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees. She needed to see him. Needed to dig her nails into his thick, masculine thighs. She panted as she leaned in and pressed her lips over his tiger tattoo and ran her hands upward to cup his bulge.

Harry watched her from her position on her knees before him and finally felt like he was home. There was something about this girl that he couldn’t shake. He had missed her. And the whole reason he had gone to The Dulcería that night was to see her.

So he was surprised when she so easily said yes to seeing him after work. Surprised when she flirted with him and responded to his touch with touches of her own. Surprised when she kissed him in the back seat of the cab and now more than anything, was pleased by the direction the night was going.

He decided before he even saw her that night that he wanted to make her his. Wanted it to be official. He could see himself getting serious with her. Saw himself bringing her with him everywhere. Falling in love. The whole nine.

Her lips sucked and pulled at his cock and it was better than he remembered. There was certainly nothing like the real thing when it came to getting head and Harry had been doing a lot of imagining over the months. He’d missed her warmth and her eyes. Her wet lips slipping over his shaft.

She coughed and gurgled around him as she sat back for a breath and stroked him in her hand. He brushed his fingers along her temple to move her hair from her face and she was already looking up at him. Her top had been unbuttoned and he had a view of her big tits held in by her bra and her soft eyes looking up at him with his cock in her hand.

“Fuck, angel. Missed you so much.”

She smiled and leaned in with her pink tongue sticking out before licking over his balls, gently kissing and sucking at the skin. He moaned as she moved upward over his shaft and to his crown before popping him back into her mouth.

Another good gag had Harry pulling her up, “Darling, take your clothes off,” he said through soft breaths as he pulled his shirt off and kicked his pants down the rest of the way off his legs.

She removed her work outfit and could smell the restaurant on herself, “I should like, shower or something. I smell like kitchen and food…”

Harry dragged her into his arms and stepped her back toward the bed, “Just like you are. I need you now.” He spoke against her lips.

She was pushed into his bed, her naked body under his with his soft mouth drinking her in. His lips moved from her jaw to her neck and suckled at her tits for a while before he got down to business slurping away at her cunt.

Yes. Okay. That was good. Harry was good. And she knew it wasn’t just because he was so skilled. No. She realized that it was because of the way she felt for Harry. Her heart thundered in her chest wildly as she yanked his hair and ground her pussy into his face. Harry sucked and kissed and fingered wetly as he moaned into flesh. It was everything. Harry was everything.

When she splashed a bit on his face from her orgasm Harry sat back with a laugh as he massaged the inside of her thighs. She forced herself to open her eyes to look at him. He was breathing heavily, his chest flushed pink, his cock thickened and erect. Ready to be pressed right into her sloppy pussy.

He had a hand at his base as he smoothed his weepy tip through her hot and sticky crease. He small whine fell from his lips before he got up to grab a condom. He would have loved to have just fucked her raw but they’d need to talk about all that first. And they’d barely done any talking that evening.

She pushed herself up to her elbows to watch Harry as he stood next to the bed and looked down at his girthy cock, sliding the condom over himself. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her again. At long last.

His strong body was insane. She’d never get over it. Wanted to drag her tongue over every inch and drink up his sweat and taste the salt in her mouth. God, he made her insatiable.

Harry kneed up to her on the bed, his heavy condom-covered dick swaying until he pulled her toward him and planted his lips onto hers. Soft and sensuous. The way he kissed her was enough to call it all off Jimmy. It had her head spinning and her tummy doing somersaults. Never something Jimmy had accomplished in their couple of months of dating.

He was breathing hard as he backed from the kiss and looked over her bare body, “I needed this so bad. God… You have no idea how much I missed you, Y/n.”

She really didn’t know. Because she imagined he was getting plenty of ass while he’d been away.

Harry laid her down on the bed, her back flat on the mattress as he leaned over her frame and attached his lips to her breasts one at a time. She could feel his cock dragging over her as he moved from one nipple to the other.

He felt her buck upward under him and he smiled as he popped off her nipple and looked down at her, “Need something, angel?”

She nodded with a grin, “Your cock. Please.”

Harry groaned and thumbed over moistened nipples before grasping his shaft with one hand and planting his palm down onto the mattress to hold himself up over her.

“Yeah? Please? You missed me, angel?”

“Oh my god…” she moaned as she felt his tip press against her entrance, “Yes. Oh my god, I missed you.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches so he could watch as he entered her. It was his favorite view. The way she spread open, the tight little snap of him entering her clenching muscle, how nicely she took all of him. He pushed in and pulled back, wetting himself as he inched in further and further. She was sopping and had coated his condom in her drippy juices. He moaned as he dipped in deeper and watched her mouth drop open in relief at the feel of him stuffing her pussy.

When he’d gotten in balls deep he sighed, “Oh fuck, angel. I’m gonna treat you so good.” And he didn’t just mean while he was fucking her. He meant it in every way one could. He was going to treat her exactly as she deserved.

When he began to thrust in and out with long and languid strokes, the poke into her belly was toe-curling. She’d missed the way his cock felt and missed him. Missed him more than anything.

The patting of their skin slapping together wetly sounded as good as it felt. Harry moaned and Y/n gasped. He was deep. It was as if he’d somehow grown in size since he’d been away but she was sure it was just because Harry was Harry. She liked his dick but she just really liked him.

Harry had a nice grip on her thighs to keep them spread so he could have an unobstructed image of what he was doing to her, “God your little hole is just taking me, baby…” he groaned.

She peered up at him, his abs and his thighs flexing as he worked himself into her steadily. Every time he plunged in he nudged himself into her with a quick buck at the end to push himself as far in as he could get, causing her to jolt upward and whimper at the ache.

“Your cock… oh god Harry…” she didn’t know what she was trying to say. Except maybe just that she was really enjoying him. A compliment to how good he felt. How good he was.

Harry rhythmically rocked into her and released one of her thighs to use his thumb on her clit. He softly smoothed his pad over her sticky and aroused nub and she gasped. Harry grinned at her as she reached down to feel the mess they were making, her fingers slipping next to his and then lower, to feel where his cock was sliding in and out, spreading her pussy apart, the wet hair at his base, his balls as they nudged into her when he buried himself in.

“My cock? Yeah? That feel good inside you?”

“Yes, fuck… your gonna make me come so hard,” she moaned her words as she kept her fingers held against the spot where he was pushing into her, slick and creamy.

“Feel that? Feel how wet you get for me? How hard you make me?” He sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers glided along his balls and he stilled his hips, grinding himself into her. She was forced to move her fingers back up to her clit as Harry grasped her hips and pulled her over him so she could feel just how deep he was.

“God I wish I could fuck you without a condom. Come inside of your sweet cunt and fill you up like you deserve.”

She moaned at his words and the way he was buried inside of her guts. Her eyes fluttered closed as she continued to finger over her clit. That sounded exactly like what she wanted too. Wanted to feel him pouring into her and then watch it leak out slowly as he stuffed it back in with his tip.

“Oh my god, Harry. That sounds good…” She looked down at where his pelvis was pasted to hers as he circled his hips into her.

“Yeah? Gonna make you mine, baby and then I’m gonna fuck you raw and come inside of you over and over again. You want that?”

Nodding her head, she had a pained, fucked-out expression on her face, “Yess…” she panted.

Harry leaned over her body, not able to resist kissing her any longer. He needed his mouth on hers immediately.

The quick change of position had Y/n gasping as Harry shifted over her and pressed his lips to hers. The smooth strokes of his cock started up again as he planted his mouth over hers and licked against her tongue.

Intimate. That’s what it was. Harry was intimate but it felt especially real. Especially meaningful. She tried not to think about how soft and loving he was being with her because it felt so much like what someone would do if he was in love.

But then suddenly he took her hand and wound his fingers into hers, pressing their joined hands into the bed next to the pillow her head was on, as he continued thrusting and kissing. That gesture totally tipped her mind into that place she didn’t want to go. That place that told her he was just as into her as she was into him. That he wanted her and only her.

She bent her knees and planted her feet flat, lifting her hips upward each time he pushed in. It was wet and hot between them. Harry’s body over hers was solid and strong as he fucked into her with everything he had. She felt it too. Felt him put his whole body into each thrust.

Their hands stayed wound together tightly as Harry licked into her mouth. They parted only for gasps of air and to let out whimpers and moans.

“Please, Y/n…” Harry whispers against her lips before opening his mouth over hers and smoothing them together, closing his mouth around her tongue and then pressing his tongue passed her lips. She wanted to ask him why he said please but her brain was scrambled and focused on the way their bodies moved together. How good he felt. How good she felt.

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. She was certain Harry could hear it too. His pelvis stayed pressed into her clit and each time he stuffed himself into the hilt he undulated his hips as she tilted her own pelvis into him.

“Oh fuck!” She cried when Harry hit something inside of her that made her body tingle. She’d felt nothing like it before but she was sure it wasn’t just something physical he was nudging into. It was something emotional. She was doomed to his charm. Doomed to fall for him whether she wanted to or not. But how could she not?

Harry pushed himself up, his hands still wrapped around hers, “Okay, angel?” His soft, beautiful eyes would haunt her. Dark lashes and a dark limbal ring that lined his already perfect shade of green…

“It just… it feels so good, Harry. You’re making me feel so good,” she panted her words.

Harry dragged his gaze from her eyes down to her tits, “Want you to ride me, okay? Want to see how you fuck yourself on me.”

Nodding her head Harry slid himself out with a soft hiss as he grasped his cock and watched the tiniest bit of liquid gush from her pussy. She’d only gotten wetter as he fucked her.

Harry took her hand and brought it to his lips, “What are you doing to me, Y/n?”

She sat up as they kept their eyes locked and Harry grasped the back of her neck and kissed her again. They sat in the middle of his massive bed, both on their knees, naked and kissing urgently until Harry sat back and pulled Y/n with him, dragging her body over his, never letting their lips part.

She straddled his lap as he grasped her hips and pressed her wet cunt to his impossibly hard erection. When he’d finally laid his back into the mattress she placed her palms over his pecs and felt his hands at her ass, guiding her up so she could put him back in as quickly as possible.

Letting her fingertips travel over his chest, feeling the hair on her palm, the sturdy muscle under his soft skin, she scraped lightly and leaned down to lick his nipple. She smiled when he moaned and as badly as she wanted to have his cock back inside of her she needed to show her affection to his gorgeous body. At least a little.

Moving her lips to his other side she licked over his pebbled nippled and looked up at his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was dropped open. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as she nipped with her teeth gently.

Harry groaned and opened his eyes, lifting his head to watch her work over him with her teeth and her tongue, “Fuck, baby.”

Y/n grinned and lifted her mouth from his skin, “Harry, your body is fucking incredible. I could lick and kiss it all day long.”

With her eyes on his she leaned down and stuck out her pink tongue to drag up from the underside of his peck up to his other nipple. She pulled it into her mouth and scraped her teeth over it before kissing it. She dotted warm pecks upward to his clavicle and licked as she went.

Harry’s whimpers grew desperate as he watched her lick and kiss his skin. But he needed to have her on him. His cock was aching and with the sweet and adoring attention she was giving him with her tongue and her lips he was going mad.

Harry grasped her hips and the pathetic whine that fell from his throat had her peeking up at him again, “Please, angel. I need you to fuck me.”

And well, that was all it took. He had said please after all. She lined up herself over his tip and began to sink over him, her pelvis tilted into him, “Okay, baby. I’ll fuck you now. God I need you too…” they moaned loudly as she slid over him until her pussy lips were kissing the very base of his cock.

She kept her hands pressed to his chest as she gently rocked herself over him. Harry moved her up and down slowly, keeping his hands on her bottom, and watched her pretty face contort at the feel of him splitting her pussy apart on his big cock.

“God you’re already creaming all over baby. So fucking wet I can hear it.” Harry spoke through gritted teeth. He loved the way she looked on top, her tits gently jiggling at each roll of her hips, her wet mouth dropped open, her eyes fluttering open and closed in ecstasy.

“You make me so wet, Harry. No one gets me wet like you. I need you…” she groaned as she bucked her hips down over him.

“Yeah? Need me, baby? I can tell…” he gasped when she clenched over him, “Can tell by the way you’re fucking yourself on me. Gonna get yourself off on my cock, angel?”

Y/n keened when Harry lifted his hips up the tiniest bit, forcing his cock deeper yet. A delicious sting.

“Harry… fuck!”

Harry breathed in a shaky breath and pulled at her elbow to bring her body down toward his. He wanted more contact. Wanted her closer. Wanted to kiss her as they both released together because he could tell she was nearly there.

The moment her lips were pressed to his he bent his knees slightly and tilted his pelvis upward so he could thrust into her as she fucked herself down onto him. Wet squelches and soft gasps surrounded them as they kept their bodies connected, on edge, trembling.

One of Harry’s hands smoothed down to her bottom while he took his other to bring her fingers into his. He wanted it sensual, erotic, soft, lusty. There was something about fucking Y/n and having his lips on hers and her hand in his that was making his heart swell with affection. He’d never have enough of her.

She shivered over him and he knew it wasn’t because she was cold. There was no way her body was cold with the way they had been going at it. No. He knew her shiver was because she felt it. Felt what he was. Knew this was it for them.

Her breasts were smushed into Harry’s chest and her thighs were squeezing around him as she continued pushing herself down over him. Her small hand in his with her fingers threaded between his was warm.

“Shit… you coming baby?” Harry felt her limbs tense and the tight muscle at her entrance grip around his cock in pulses.

“Fuck… yess! Fuck!” She couldn’t stop her orgasm from finding its way to the surface. She hadn’t expected it to burst out of her so quickly but having her hand surrounded by his while his cock was buried inside of her was not a casual sex move and that notion alone had her spinning out of control.

He was holding her hand and kissing the edge of her mouth through it all and now that she was coming around him, he squeezed her hand tighter and whispered to her through her orgasm, “There you go, angel. Made for me, aren’t you? My good girl…” she writhed and whimpered in her climax and he could tell it felt good. Could tell she was getting what she deserved.

Harry let her spasm around him for a moment longer until he couldn’t hold on for another second. He lifted his hips and gasped as he spurt into his condom. Gushes of hot come filling the rubber tip as he throbbed inside of her.

She felt his prick pump against her slick walls as he came. His breath was caught in his throat as he released into his condom. The grasp he had on her hand was locked down hard. She would have complained that it hurt but the last thing she wanted to do was have him release her in any way. She always wanted this with him. The closeness, the intimacy. The insane connection they had.

When Harry finally filled his lungs with air and his face relaxed her felt her slumped into his chest. He loosened his grip on her hand but didn’t let go. He wouldn’t let go. Never.

She’d passed out. Simply exhausted after Harry had handled her body like he owned it. Exhausted after giving every inch of his body her attention and love because damn did he deserve it. He was breathtaking. The man deserved to be worshipped. He was stunning and the way he gave himself to her was mind-blowing.

. . .

Blinking her eyes open the morning light was barely peeking through the window. It must have been super early. He was still asleep next to her. Hair a mess, cheeks smushed, small breaths puffed out from his mouth (he slept with his mouth opened she learned after the few times they’d slept together).

She was feeling something deeper for Harry than she wanted. The guilt about ignoring Jimmy and going home with another man was eating at her. Jimmy didn’t deserve that. He was a nice guy. A normal guy. But Harry was different. And it wasn’t just because he was hot and famous. It was because they understood one another in a way that she didn’t know if she’d ever get to with Jimmy. And that didn’t feel great.

Especially because Harry was… well he was Harry Styles. Falling for him would be dangerous and she’d have her heart broken. She could fall for him too. Another round of sex like they’d had the night before and it would be over for her. She’d tip over the edge of no return and need him in a way he’d never need her. She might just have to settle for Jimmy in that case. Perhaps that would really be as good as it could get for her.

Slowly slipping out of his bed she went to the bathroom with her phone.

She powered it back on and cringed when she had a couple of missed notifications from Jimmy. Not only had she kind of betrayed his trust and slept with someone else after he asked her to come over, but she wasn’t totally honest with Harry either. Hadn’t told him about the guy she’d been dating. A guy she was working on getting to know and could see herself dating long-term. Well, she could have seen Jimmy as someone long-term had it not been for Harry being so goddamn perfect.

Could she see herself with Harry long-term? She could actually but the reality was he probably didn’t see her in the same way. She chalked up his words and the intimacy with him just being a very sensual and sexual and vulnerable man. He was probably that way with everyone he slept with. She didn’t want to assume it was because he liked her just as much as she liked him.

Splashing her face with water she sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. She knew what she needed to do. To protect herself. To make things right.

She needed to go home and tell Jimmy everything. And then she needed to decide if she could see herself being exclusive with Jimmy or not. Could she settle? She’d let Harry get under her skin. She didn’t know how he’d done it so fast but maybe it was just his natural charm. Whatever it was, she knew Harry would be okay. Knew it was unlikely that he felt anything close to how she was feeling.

Her Uber driver arrived faster than she thought. She rushed out of Harry’s bedroom, down the stairs, and out the door, before she even had time to write a little note. She fully intended on doing that but it was too late. It was time to put it all behind her. Maybe this was going to get Harry out of her system once and for all.

But she could be dumb at times.

. . .

Instead of coming clean to Jimmy right away, she broke down the moment she got into her bedroom. She regretted everything. The way she handled Jimmy. The way she gave in to Harry. The way she left Harry without saying goodbye.

What was she thinking? She was too young to be going through a midlife crisis but she was at an age where she needed to grow up and start making big girl decisions. Settle down with a good man. Jimmy was surely that man. A normal guy. Someone in her league. But maybe she so easily gave in to Harry because Jimmy still had his dating profile active and that stayed with her in the back of her mind. Their casual dating relationship meant they were allowed to see who they wanted.

But Harry was… There was something there. Something else that she didn’t have with Jimmy. That she wasn’t sure she’d ever have. But that was why she needed to cut it out with the famous man. He was famous. He was exceptional in so many ways and there was simply no way he’d feel for her what she felt for him. He was too good to be true.

The messages from both men continued through the day. She shut her phone off when she got to work. She just couldn't face it. Couldn’t deal with it. Tomorrow. She’d figure it out tomorrow. Explain everything to Jimmy and to Harry. Harry would be okay. She knew he would be. He’d probably felt relief that she didn’t stay in fact. Made it easier for him so he didn’t have to break it to her that that should be their last time together. Though, she hadn’t read any of the messages he sent (she simply couldn’t bring herself to) she was sure he would be the easy one to deal with. Jimmy, though… She hoped he’d forgive her. But she knew she needed to call it off with Jimmy as well. Nice enough, a great guy for just about anyone. But maybe not for her. Especially not when she couldn’t stop comparing him to Harry. So she’d made up her mind. She’d call Jimmy the following day and sort things out with him. Tell him they had a good run and then that would be that.

But sometimes things in life don’t always go as one imagines. Do they?

With her phone shut off, she had missed the calls and the subsequent texts from both men. She had not realized that they’d both texted her that they were going to be waiting for her at her house when she got home because they needed to talk. She had not imagined pulling up to her little rented bungalow to see three men standing in her front yard.

There was Brad, mediating the whole scene, standing between the two men she’d been ignoring for the entirety of the day.

Then there was Jimmy with a red face and posture that told her he was feeling quite insecure about something. Of which she was sure she had a good idea.

And there was Harry. Pacing. With his hands in his hair and his mouth moving as he said something that had him excited.

The three men suddenly stopped as she pulled in front of the house. All three sets of eyes on her. She had been avoiding simply responding to them. Assuming she’d have time to get her thoughts together. But now she had no choice. She was being forced to confront them.

Harry began to walk toward her car first. But then Jimmy followed too. Both men spoke to one another animatedly as she opened the door.

“Nahh… back off man,” Harry spoke to Jimmy but kept his eyes toward Y/n.

“No. I’m not going to back off…” Jimmy quickened his pace when he noticed she’d gotten out of her car.

“Y/n…” Brad spoke over the two bickering adults, “You probably have some explaining to do to these two. Do you mind taking over here?”

“I… yeah. Of course. I’m so sorry, Brad.” She looked between the three men as Brad waved and walked back into the house.

Jimmy’s face was bright red, “Y/n, tell him we’ve been dating. He seems to think you are his girlfriend.”

Looking at Harry she opened her mouth to respond but stopped at the insinuation that Harry implied she was his girlfriend.

Girlfriend?

Stepping into her yard Harry stood in front of her and then Jimmy next to him both men looking at her in question.

“Uh… I’m… I don’t know what to say. I’ve been dating Jimmy,” she gestured at the man and looked at Harry, “but we’re not exclusive, and then… Well, I saw Harry last night,” she stuttered her words. Her heart was pounding. She was not looking like a good person in this situation. But it was too late now.

“I don’t care that you were dating someone. What happened between us last night… that meant something to you. Didn’t it?” Harry spoke as he gently brushed his fingers against hers, a little spark of life, a signal that he was there and she was safe with him.

She was a bit stunned by all this. Hadn’t expected Harry to say that. Hadn’t expected to see both men in her yard, apparently arguing over her.

“But we’ve been dating for almost 2 months. I think she and I have something special. And I know we haven’t specifically said we were exclusive but–“

“Well, I’ve known her for nearly… what 5, 6 months now?” Harry looked at her as he spoke.

Y/n stood still looking from Harry to Jimmy who continued, “So what is it? Are you with me or are you with him? I didn’t know you were dating someone else.” He was flustered. In comparison to Harry, he was not calm nor gentle.

“I… I’m sorry,” She shook her head and felt her face grow hot and her head dizzy. She was embarrassed.

There wasn’t anything else to say. Except that she was sorry. She really had liked Jimmy. But with the way she folded so fast with Harry, she knew she didn’t like Jimmy as much as she assumed. Because all Harry had to do was say a few nice things to her to get her back to his place and in his bed. She was a weak bitch. What could she say except sorry?

“Look. I’m sorry. Both of you. I have some explaining to do and I was going to… but why are you both here?”

“I came here to talk about this morning with you, Y/n. You left without goodbye and didn’t respond to my texts,” Harry spoke first.

“And you didn’t text me back last night when I thought we were making plans. I was worried about you.”

Blinking her eyes she realized without a doubt, that she was the heavy here. The rotten one. This was all her fuckup. Both men came to find her because she’d blown them both off. Ran away from her problems.

But she fully intended on being truthful. She just needed a minute.

“Fuck.” She cursed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was going to talk to you both. I just… I don’t know. I felt bad that I flaked out on you, Jimmy. I was never going to meet up with you last night after work and I should have told you that off the bat. And I was going to tell you but then I saw Harry and… I just felt guilty so I figured I’d apologize later.”

“That’s… kind of fucked up, Y/n,” Jimmy said as he put his hands on his hips.

She nodded and looked at him. He was upset, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“And so you didn’t want to come see me last night because of him?” He gestured toward the man standing to his left.

Shaking her head she looked from Jimmy to Harry, “No. Before I even realized Harry was at the restaurant for dinner I planned on just going back home after my shift. I just never got around to telling you that. I didn’t want to see you last night.”

“But you went back to Harry’s house?” Jimmy asked.

She sighed, nodding, “Yes. I didn’t plan on it. It just happened.”

The silence was all-consuming. Y/n didn’t want to look at Jimmy’s disappointed face any longer so she glanced at Harry whose energy was opposite of Jimmy's. He was all soft eyes with a gentle expression. Comforting. She smiled at him. He felt safe.

“Okay. Fair enough,” Jimmy spoke suddenly, “So that’s it? Should I expect to hear from you again or…” he shrugged and looked at her hoping to hear something that gave him anything to hang on to.

Should he expect to hear from her? She liked him. She really did. But she could see it now that she didn’t like him enough. Even if perhaps she and Harry didn’t wind up together, the way she fell into Harry’s bed so easily and the way she lit up at Harry’s smile in that moment. The way he made her feel… it was over with Jimmy. She’d never feel that way with him.

“I think that’s it. Yeah. I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m not sure what I was thinking but… I think this has run its course. I’m sorry,” she shook her head at the whole situation. She felt awful. Jimmy had been nothing but kind. But she just wasn’t feeling it she guessed. Not when she was feeling so much more with Harry.

She watched Jimmy walk away to his car and felt Harry’s hands pull at hers, “It meant something. Didn’t it?”

Looking up at the tall man in confusion she responded, “What?”

“Last night. I know you left without saying anything but now I get it. You were feeling guilty about that bloke. Right?”

Swallowing thickly she nodded, “Yeah… I just… I don’t know why I went back with you but it felt natural and this morning I was overwhelmed with guilt and didn’t really know what you wanted. You know?” She raised her brows and continued, “You’re… you. You’re Harry Styles. I’m just… me. Felt like I was playing some silly game with myself that was just gonna get me hurt.”

Harry’s hands cupped her face softly, “No games. I like you a lot. Couldn’t stay away from you. Last night felt like the beginning of something really special and I hoped you felt it too.”

She stayed silent as she looked into his eyes. His warm hands on her skin felt soft and tender. His thumbs grazed her cheekbones and she felt it. She did. She knew exactly what he meant. To hear him say it, though…

“I need to know what that means for you. Because, yeah. I felt it. I just don’t want to get hurt, Harry. You’re gonna go back on tour and you’ll see your ex and some other woman and I’m gonna get left behind again–“

“My ex? I didn’t see my ex. Nor do I have plans for that,” he laughed softly as he spoke.

“Well, I mean… I did see her post about crossing paths with someone and that cross necklace,” she shook her head and felt silly for even bringing it up as she looked at the expression on Harry’s face.

“She called me and I answered. She thought that meant something but really it was just me being nice. I don’t miss her at all. Have no intention of seeing her again on any level.”

She nodded at his words, “And the pretty woman that was with you on tour. Lots of rumors there too. Which is fine! You’re totally allowed to see other–“

Harry pulled her in close, stopping her mid-sentence, “She’s a friend. Someone I trust who I can vent to and confide in. She gave me lots of advice about you, angel. Told me to go after you. Told me she hadn’t seen me so excited about anyone ever before. I couldn’t stop talking about you.”

“So, you never slept with her?”

Harry shook his head and fit his fingers between hers, blinking softly, “Never. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Now she felt really bad. He’d been missing her and thinking of her all the while she was off with Jimmy trying to erase Harry from her mind, “I had no idea. I’m sorry that I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I admit, I didn’t try hard enough to stay in touch. That’s on me. But I don’t want that to ever happen again.”

“But now you must really think I’m trash. After all that?”

Harry shook his head, squeezing her hand, “Not at all, angel. I want to be with you. Don’t want you with anyone else, though,” he laughed, “And I’m not gonna think about whatever you had going on with that guy because you were just trying to get to know someone else. You thought it was over with us. But I don’t want it to be over. I want it to be me and you.”

She stood stunned. She just hadn’t expected any of this but it was more than she could have hoped for. She genuinely thought she’d misread all the signs. Yes, last night it felt like intimacy and deep connection but figured that was all coming from her end. She had tricked herself into believing he didn’t feel the same.

“Well? What do you think? Would you want to be my girlfriend? Make it official?”

She swallowed the grit down her throat and blinked her eyes at Harry. It all felt like a dream. Surely it was a dream.

“I do want that. So much, but…” she shook her head just as Harry grinned wide.

“So you’re my girlfriend now?”

Y/n puffed out a laugh and nodded, “I guess so. Yeah.” She couldn’t tamper her smile.

Harry released one of her hands and gently held the back of her neck as he leaned down to kiss her. And just like every other time her lips connected with his, she felt flushed and buzzy. Her skin prickled with excitement. Her sinuses burned as she held back stupid tears.

But she needed to say something else. And if this fiasco had taught her anything it was that she needed to be better at communicating.

Parting from the kiss, Harry kept her in his arms as she tilted her head to look up at him, “But what happens when you leave again, Harry? To another city? Another country? What does that mean for us?”

He brought his lips to her forehead before looking down at her again, his crystalline green eyes taking her in. He inhaled a deep breath, a serious expression on his face suddenly that had Y/n worried about the next words he was going to speak, “Come with me.”

He squeezed her closer if that were possible and she opened and closed her mouth a few times, shocked at his words and at what was happening. It was crazy, wasn’t it? To just leave everything behind and travel with Harry wherever he went? Surely this was just a beautiful dream she’d be waking from at any minute.

Harry shook his head and the edge of his pink lips quirked up on one side, “I won’t take no for an answer.”

A/N: This is the last part of this series! What did you guys think? Would you like to see some more of these two? Thank you so much for reading!

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cheonstapes · 6 months

Note

PLS I NEED MORE OF MIGUEL X SPIDER-BARBIE IT'S LITERALLY SOOO GOOD

miguel o'hara stars in... 'LET'S GO BEACH' ｡ﾟ( ﾟ^∀^ﾟ)ﾟ｡

a/n ~ TY FOR THE REQUEST DARLING💗!!!!! i love spider barbie sm, i'm gonna make this into a series! i did write smut for this so pls let me know if you want it! ╰(▔∀▔)╯

previously...

summary; miguel attempts to take you on a beach date - alone. apparently, you didn't get the memo.

wc; 900+

pairings; miguel o'hara x spiderbarbie!reader

cw; SUGGESTIVE!!, miguel gets hard, petnamesss, reader is a little shit, drowning?, miguel was a lifeguard once upon a time, teensy bit of voyeurism, naked in a public beach, fwb!, pining, miguel is just downbad man, nawt proofread - i'm kenough

ok, so after the whole ‘massage’ situation - you and miguel had started this sort of friends with benefits type of thing.

he beats himself up everyday for not asking you out then, he’s happy he has you like this at least. but it’s not enough. so he devised a master plan to get to to finally go out with him. setting up an entire day at the beach with just the two of you, along with a cute romantic picnic and sundown. it was all perfect — well until they came.

maybe he should’ve been clearer, i mean - he never told you it was a date. naturally, like the sweetheart you are, you invited the rest of your friends. ben, hobie, jess, peter — along with mayday as he couldn’t find anyone to watch her - it was quite literally the worst day of miguel’s life.

“what’re you all doing here?”

and you coincidentally forgot to tell them the person you were going to accompany was none other than the big boss, miguel. they probably wouldn’t have gone if you did, considering the way they frowned deeply when they saw him. you laughed nervously, scratching the back of your neck as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation. you were just too sweet for them to stay mad at, dismissing you with a wave of their hands — smiling as they tell you it’s ok!

miguel still wasn’t happy though, his permanent scowl somehow even deeper as he trudged along next to you as you all found somewhere to sit. obviously, he put his towel next to yours — even helping you put up your cute little chair and umbrella. he even took the liberty to put your sunscreen on for you — he just wanted to cop a feel, don’t blame him.

it turned out to be more fun than he expected, not that he’d ever admit it — but a small smile would grace his frowning lips ever so often. you looked so happy, surrounded by all the people you love, running around in that flimsy, little bikini. yeah, you looked hot as fuck too. the heat was making him feel dizzy, but so was the sight of your beautiful body — tits barely contained by those scraps of fabric, your ass making that stupid bikini look like a thong.

anyone could see he was turned on. his cock poking through the tightness of his trunks, his eyes constantly trained on you and you only. and when you came over to him, panting and smiling so sweetly, he was so ready to pin you down and fuck you till you couldn’t think of anything but him. “miguel! d’you know where i put that floatie thing?” he nodded, grabbing it out of his bag and handed it to you — hand lightly grazing yours. “you going for a swim now? it’s a little late, isn’t it?”

“look, there’s basically no one in the water — it’s the perfect time to go for a swim, migs!” he tilted his head, sliming softly at you as he shrugged. “you’re not wrong, princess. you got all of that to yourself, hm?” you smiled cheekily, bending over in front of him, clasping your hands in front of you. “mm, if only i had someone to join me…” rapidly batting your lashes as he chuckles lowly, shaking his head. “yeah, you’re on your own, sweetheart — i’m fine here. why don’t you ask jess or something? ‘m sure she’d be more than happy to accompany you.”

he’s so annoying, but you can be too. “pleaseeee! you’ve just been sitting here, grumpy, all day. just come in for a few minutes and then you can go back to sulking, old man.” old man? he raised a brow, smirking slightly — he pushed down his sunglasses, leaning back on his sun lounge. “sounds nice, princess, but i’ll pass. i was a lifeguard once, someone needs to save your ass incase you drown or somethin’.”

and drown you did.

kidding! well — sort of?

miguel’s heart was beating faster than ever. he shot up as he heard you calling out for him, your body flailing in the water. the beach was practically empty at this point. the rest of the group had gone home, leaving you and miguel to finally have the beach date you were supposed to. but he didn’t expect this. he dived into the water, pulling your body up to the surface. “you’re ok, cariño, i got you. breathe for me, just breathe.” he stroked your face, cooing softly as he tried to calm himself down too, telling himself you’re ok.

you got tired of playing around after a few minutes, springing up like nothing happened. you grinned at him, as if you didn’t almost give the poor man a heart attack. “you should be a life guard again, watching you dive in like that was really hot.” he blinked at you, mouth hanging open. he growled lowly, “you think you’re so funny, ¡ay pillín! i thought you drowned!” his face was heating up, frowning deeply as he didn’t want you to see how badly he cares about you.

“aww, ‘m sorry. i couldn’t think of anything else to get you in the water!” he sighed, smiling softly as he put a large hand on your cheek — pinching the wet flesh. “yeah, whatever. don’t pull some stupid shit like that again.” he warned. you nodded in compliance, wrapping your arms around his neck. “wellll, since you’re here now… swim with me?”

he was about to agree, albeit reluctantly, before something under the water caught his eye. there’s no way he only just realised, so caught up in saving you that he didn’t see that you were literally naked. pink fabric floated behind you, riding the waves as he smirked down at you — reaching up to pinch your exposed nipple.

“missing something, princess?”

-cariño - sweetheart

-¡ay pillín! - you little shit/naughty (sorta interchangeable)

-mmmmm, what if they had.... water sex....? hmmmmmm.....

#cheonstapes #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara #cheonstapes films!🪷#miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel o’hara x reader #cheonslovelynonnies💕#miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you

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thefrogdalorian · 2 months

Text

Hold You in My Arms

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Even with its outdated interior and the limitations that entails, The Razor Crest is your home. You find there is a certain charm about the old ship even if the bunk is a little uncomfortable. Though, it's even better when there is a Mandalorian to cuddle, armour and all. Word Count: 2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: None! ✯ Author's Note: This is set pre-series! A little tooth-rottingly sweet fluffy oneshot for this fine Friday. I wanted to make Din a human weighted-blanket and I yearn to run my fingers through his curls. This was the result. Hope you enjoyed! (The title comes from the song Starlight by Muse).

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

The sensation of cool metal against your cheek rudely interrupts the warm embrace of sleep, within which you were blissfully enveloped until only moments ago. You recoil at the sudden frigidity, your sleep-addled brain struggling to comprehend the cause for your discomfort. The presence has mercilessly encroached into the peaceful state of slumber you had drifted off into. Which is a miraculous feat, given the cramped surroundings you retire to each night.

Somehow, nestled between the thin sheets that lay atop the firm bunk – which causes your back to ache if you fall asleep in ever so slightly the wrong position – you have been in such a deep, restful state of sleep that being so rudely awakened from it almost makes you want to sob at the injustice. After all, it is a marvel that you ever found yourself so comfortable in the first place. The cramped bunk is tucked away like an afterthought in a corner of the dark hull that forms the main living area of the ship you soar through the stars in.

Yet, the ship has not been racing through the stars for the past few days. Instead, you have found yourself confined to the groaning metallic structure as you await the return of the man who made your new life possible. Din Djarin rescued you from a monotonous, destitute life and whisked you away in the stars, a debt that you are certain you will never adequately repay. It doesn’t stop you from trying your best every day that you are privileged enough to spend at his side though. A feat you at least attempt, by pouring every ounce of yourself into loving him. You know that Din never expects anything in return. Everything he has is yours and he adores providing for you, finally having a purpose for the payments he receives from bounty hunting. Even so, you can’t help but feel as though you owe him. So, you do your best to love him unconditionally.

Before you met Din, he was a solitary figure, cutting a lonely path through the galaxy. You changed everything. Din often compares you to a sunrise after a dark night, one that he did not realise quite how grim and gloomy it had been. You are a vibrant presence that brought light into his life. He never tires of telling you how much you mean to him, how deeply he loves you. With all of that in mind, how could you not put everything into loving a man as incredible as Din Djarin?

At present, though, you almost want to throttle him.

As when your eyelids fly open at the frigid contact, it is the distinctive gleam of beskar that you find next to you. Din’s helmet sparkles even in the dim light of the ship. Until you noticed Din’s dazzling headgear, you were fully prepared to admonish the perpetrator for being so cruel as to wake you up. Yet, when you discover that it is the man whose presence you have been pining for, your anger begins to subside.

It seems that Din has decided to join you on the impossibly small bunk. A fact that would not be such a problem, had Din not clambered onto the bunk without removing a single piece of his armour. Still, at the sight of him next to you, your anger dissipates as quickly as it had begun. The bubbling raging cauldron of fire and fury in the pit of your stomach soon evaporates with a whimper. Your momentary enragement at the intrusion into the serenity you had found in the bunk, despite the uncomfortable odds stacked against you miraculously faded the instant you laid eyes upon the culprit.

While you were sleeping, Din apparently returned from collecting his latest bounty. Clearly, the job has taken its toll, as he has sought rest instantly, still clad in his beskar'gam. Din nestles into your shoulder and you can feel the full heft of his armour, cool and hard against your skin, even through the thin sheet. Even though Din is exhausted and desperately needs sleep, he was so eager to be close to you that he decided to enter the cramped space to lie with you.

Even though you are certain that Din can't possibly be comfortable given the position he has taken up, you still have no desire for him to leave. Somewhat selfishly, you are enjoying the sensation of him and the warmth his presence causes in you, despite the coldness of his beskar.

“Din,” you finally sigh, “There isn’t enough room for both of us.”

“Am I hurting you?” Din asks sleepily.

“No, but—”

“Then, there’s room.”

Din’s tone of voice does not leave room for debate. You can’t help but smirk at his determination to remain cuddled up with you. Collecting his latest bounty has rendered him so exhausted that he cannot even muster the strength to remove his armour. With its inflexibility and heft, it cannot possibly be pleasant to lie in, but Din is apparently so desperate to be in your arms that it seems he has sacrificed his own comfort to be close to you.

“You can’t be comfortable, Din,” you observe, shaking your head at his determination to lie in your arms. “Let me get up and give you the bunk to rest properly, I’ll nap in the cockpit chair.”

Your offer to sleep there is an attempt to repay the debt you feel you owe Din. While he frequently allows you to sleep in the bunk, Din is happy to sit in the chair. It is a position he seems content in, with his arms folded and head slumped to the side. For much of his life, sleeping in a bunk was a luxury seldom afforded to a man who lived such a nomadic life as Din. Even though he is unaccustomed to sleeping in a bunk and probably still prefers the chair, you want to give him the marginally more comfortable option.

Din, however, has other ideas…

“No,” Din murmurs in response to your offer, shaking his head furiously at the suggestion. “Want to be close to you.”

“Okay,” you sigh. You shake your head at the stubbornness of your favourite Mandalorian, but you are content to let him be.

“Can I at least remove your helmet? It feels pretty cold against my cheek, you know…” you ask playfully.

You feel that coldness in motion against your cheek as Din nods slowly, too tired to vocalise his answer. You move instantly, propping yourself up with one elbow while you carefully remove the pesky barrier between you and the brown eyes you adore. Removing Din's helmet is something that you are well accustomed to now, but you still feel your pulse race with excitement each time. There is still a small part of you that can't quite believe you get to see Din in this way, his beauty unencumbered by the armour which usually shields his handsome features from you.

After removing Din's helmet and setting it down on the corner of the bunk, you are finally free to gaze upon the face of the man you have missed so dearly. Instead of joy, however, you feel your heart constricting at the sight of him. Din looks utterly exhausted. Your eyes roam across his features and you notice the tiredness which clouds his brown eyes, dulling their usual spark and vibrancy. There are dark bags lingering under his eyes, too. It seems that Din has scarcely slept since he ventured out from the Razor Crest several days ago.

He looks up at you tiredly, a small bashful smile on his lips. You are captivated by his beauty, even in the low light. Even when he looks so drained. His is the most handsome face you have ever laid eyes upon, you are certain. With his strong nose and jawline, his features are distinctively masculine. Yet there is a certain softness there, too. Either way, you are sure that you will never tire of looking at him.

In response to the feelings his appearance provokes in you, you run your fingers through his surprisingly soft, dark curls. You gently rake your fingernails across his scalp in a soothing motion. Din hums in response, an appreciative sound that goes some way towards calming the anxiety you felt upon first laying eyes upon his exhausted face.

Now that he's lying in your arms, you hope that your careful ministrations go some way to soothing his exhausted soul. Even though he is too drained to vocalise it, you know that there is nothing in the galaxy that could relax him more than your embrace and presence.

Eventually, Din’s shallow, even breaths indicate that he has finally drifted off. You still feel slightly groggy after being awakened so abruptly, but with Din asleep on you, you know there is no chance that you will be able to get back to sleep. For one, there is the considerable heft of a fully-armoured Mandalorian resting on you, who you are keenly aware is somehow managing to sleep while maintaining the position so he is not placing all of his weight on you and inadvertently crushing you. Additionally, you are enjoying the comfort you draw from Din's presence. Knowing he is close to you and not off hunting bounties, putting himself in dangerous situations soothes your soul.

You are unsure how long you lie there for, with Din lying half on top of you, before his eyelids flutter open and those familiar brown eyes meet yours once more. To your relief, they have regained their spark.

Unfortunately, while his eyes have regained their vibrancy, other parts of Din's body have suffered.

“Can't feel my arms or legs,” Din whines, his body numb after contorting himself into such an uncomfortable position.

“I did warn you,” you tease. There is not a single trace of anger or frustration evident in your tone. You merely enjoy the opportunity to playfully admonish the man you adore.

“I know,” Din nods.

You lean down to kiss his forehead softly. As you place your head back on the pillow, Din gazes up at you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes. Then, he winces slightly, clearly deciding that enough is enough. Din grunts in discomfort as he pushes himself up, and you regretfully watch him go. You are disappointed to have lost an initially disconcerting presence which ultimately became a comfortable one in spite of your initial reservations. Din lingers at the edge of the bunk, looking back at the space with a quizzical look across his features, as though he is appraising something about the space.

“After we’ve dropped off the bounties on Nevarro, we’re paying a visit to Peli on Tatooine. I’m getting a more spacious bunk installed,” Din says decisively.

You look at him questioningly, and Din does not hesitate to elaborate:

“I want to make it so that I can cuddle you properly, every night until we’re grey.”

You shake your head and smile to yourself, touched at the sentiment. For a man with such a reputation of violence that precedes his every move, there is a surprisingly soft centre beneath the tough exterior. You are thrilled with Din’s proposition and you know that the kooky Tatooinian mechanic will have you sorted out with a new bunk in no time—even if the price you pay will be well above the going market rate.

Despite Din’s stoic appearance and ruthless efficiency, you wonder if the galaxy would view him in a different light if they knew his weakness. You quietly question whether the Bounty Hunters’ Guild would hold a lesser opinion of him if they only knew the truth.

Namely, that the spoils of one of the many bounties that the man they know as Mando so masterfully collects will go towards upgrading the Razor Crest’s modest bunk. All in order to ensure the formidable bounty hunter can have his scalp rubbed every night until his eyelids grow heavy, and so Din can be cocooned in the tight embrace of the one he loves each time he returns from his latest hunt.

Ultimately, Din Djarin is a man of multitudes. A formidable warrior and a gentle, caring man; who never feels safer or more at peace than when you hold him in your arms.

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #I JUST WANT TO HUG HIM ITS NOT FUNNY #and run my fingers throug h his haiiiiiiiiir!!!!!

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lialacleaf · 9 months

Text

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 6

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited… Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Simon was struggling for the days following his return. You could tell that he was trying his best not to be a stick in the mud.

He’d been spending an awful lot of time in his shed, and you’d seen two new furniture additions to the house since his return.

You’d tried to pull him out of his head, getting him to bake bread with you in the kitchen, but despite his outward smile you could tell he was drowning.

It all came to a head while you and Moonbeam were sitting on the carpet in front of the Christmas tree.

Simon came to stand in front of you, a somber look on his face, and your smile faltered.

“Do you wanna talk?” You asked softly, patting the space beside you. You noted the large, orange envelope in his hands, and the duffel bag on his shoulder, and you tilted your head questioningly. Surely he wasn’t going on a mission. You hoped Price had the good sense not to send him out right now.

“I did something wrong,” he began. “I…I fucked up y/n.” Your jaw went slack, and you stood to your feet. “I can’t keep doing this. Can’t keep lying to you.”

He held out the duffel bag, and you accepted it with a wary gaze, setting it on the coffee table beside you.

You opened it slowly, the zipper catching a few times, and tried not to wince at the smell of his sweaty gear.

He just stared at you, this most agonized expression you’d ever seen in his eyes. “Simon,” you began as you emptied out the contents of the bag, but you froze when your fingers met hard plastic.

You pulled the object out, staring into the familiar faceplate sewn into a balaclava. You held your breath for a moment, eyes flicking between him and the mask.

There was no Tommy. No Lieutenant Ghost. Only Simon Ghost Riley. Your husband.

“You…you were him. This whole time?” You asked, standing up at him. It made sense. Simon Riley was dead. He was a Ghost.

“I’m sorry. M’ so sorry. I just wanted to help, and you were begging me to do something, I didn’t know what else to do-“

“You lied to me,” you whispered, eyes narrowing at him. You’d always known that he’d married you out of pity, that he’d felt somehow responsible for your position, but you didn’t realize it was because he was there. “Why would you do that? Am…am I a joke to you? You hated me-“

“No,” he said firmly. “I loved you, I loved you for a long time.”

“Then why didn’t you say that? Why lead me to believe that you were two different people! You made me feel worthless that day in the mess, why would you do that?”

Simon flinched as you raised your voice. “I…I was wrong to do that. I thought I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me from what, Simon?” You seethed.

He gulped. “From…Ghost.”

You punched the bridge of your nose. “What does that even mean?”

“Ghost isn’t a good person. He hurts people. He’s a stone-cold killer. He’s the worst part of me. You wouldn’t have been able to love Ghost,” his voice wavered, and you closed your eyes, biting your lip.

“I already loved Ghost,” you whispered, not daring to open your eyes. “You didn’t need to lie to me, Simon.”

He had tears in his eyes when you opened your own, and there was a bitter frown on his face. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Yeah, I fucked this up. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he shook his head.

You frowned deeply, crossing your arms over your chest. Ghost was your husband. You had married Ghost, and he’d lied to you about it. “You always do this,” you mumbled angrily. “I spent three years working my ass off on that task force, and you sidelined me the entire fucking time, and now you’re telling me you loved me, but you wanted nothing to do with me, so you just…became a different person? A version of you that didn’t even exist anymore?”

Simon was silent for a moment, before a choked sob left his lips. “I didn’t think there was anything good left in me until you came along,” he began. Your eyes softened slightly at his words. “For the first time in a long time I felt like Simon wasn’t completely gone, and I thought maybe you could bring him back but…Simon isn’t strong enough to deal with all the shit that Ghost does. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better for you.”

He held out the envelope, and you accepted it with a wary glance at his tear stained face.

The deed to the property, the keys to the truck, and a substantial amount of cash sat nestled inside. “Simon?” You asked in a warning tone.

“You didn’t sign up for this. You married Simon, not Ghost, and I…I can’t be just Simon for you.”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, your eyes narrowing. “Oh hell no, you are not getting out of this that easily.”

He tilted his head at you in pure confusion, and you resisted the urge to slap him. “I don’t want your fucking house, or your car, or your money! I want you to fix this!” You seethed.

“I-I’m trying-“

“No. You made a mistake and you’re trying to run away from it because you’re afraid I won’t accept you if you’re not perfect! Get over yourself, Simon! I’m not perfect! I lied to my parents about my job, which sure as hell isn’t as bad as this mess, but it still wasn’t right.”

“You don’t want me to leave?” He asked softly, and you took a deep breath.

“No.”

“But you’re angry with me.”

“Fucking furious,” you agreed.

“I…don’t understand.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Simon. I just need you to be willing to stand beside me.”

You set his farewell package on the table, and took his hand in yours.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.

“You can start by telling me how the hell you got into this Ghost mess, and then you can promise me you’re never gonna lie to me again,” you demanded.

Simon’s eyes locked with your own, and he felt his breath catch. There was a fire blazing in your eyes, and he realized that you, for as fragile and small as you were, you were nothing like his mother. You were strong, and resilient. You were powerful in your own, special way. And you were giving him a second chance.

“I’m so sorry,” he began. “I’m so, so sorry, y/n.” I did a terrible thing, I tricked you, and I never should have done that.”

You nodded in agreement, settling your hands on his shoulders. You were angry with him, and hurt by what he’d done, but you still loved him, and despite his actions, you didn’t doubt that he loved you. It was a sobering thought. The mighty Ghost, on his knees begging for a woman’s forgiveness.

“I was just a kid when I joined the army, I had to get out of my mum and dad’s house, he did awful things to us that I have no business making someone as good as you listen to,” he said. “My brother became an addict, and I had to leave for a while to get him straight. He got married, had a kid, and things were fine so I went back in, started doin’ private work, and then shit hit the fan. I was held hostage for months, and when I finally made it out they hunted me down…” he trailed off, his breathing going ragged as he recounted the events.

“They found your family,” you finished, gently stroking wet cheeks. He looked up at you in surprise, and you bit your lip. “I read the obituaries,” you explained.

“You knew?” He asked in disbelief, and you nodded. “And you didn’t figure it out?”

You frowned, looking at your feet as you were unable to meet his gaze. “I thought Tommy was Ghost,” you admitted, and Simon’s shoulders tensed beneath your fingers. You could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t like the thought of that one bit.

“Simon,” you said softly, bringing his attention back to you. “Promise me you’ll never lie to me,”

“I swear on my mum’s grave,” he rasped as you cupped his cheeks.

“Promise me you’re not gonna try to be someone you’re not.”

His lower lip twitched and his jaw clenched, but he nodded. “I promise.”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you pulled him against your chest as you buried your nose in his dirty blonde hair.

“They buried me alive,” he said all of a sudden, and you blinked in confusion.

“What?” You asked in horror.

“They buried me with another man’s body and I dug out with his jaw bone. That’s why they call me Ghost.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw, before blinking away your momentary lapse. “Is that why you don’t like sleeping under the blanket?” You asked.

He nodded like a scolded child and you let out a long sigh, squeezing him tightly. You were going to get this man into therapy if it was the last thing you did.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “I don’t deserve this.”

“That’s not how love works, Simon,” you said, brushing his hair away from his face. “And I’m still pretty mad at you,” you grumbled.

“I’ll take it,” he murmured against your shoulder. “Y/n,” he said softly, standing to his full height. “You can’t tell anyone who I am. Not your family or your friends-“

“I get it. It’s between you and me,” you said, and he nodded.

“You and me.”

AN: it’s not done yet I promise, plenty more to come~ you all thought she was gonna find out on her own~ SIKE~ the guilt was just gonna eat him alive until it broke him. You’ve been cordially invited to cry.

Tag list: Thanks for your support you guys!

@warenai @livynicole @ghostlythots @hilowhiho @mrmountainman @miamia89 @shiraya92 @crocodilefeet2707

@zzariyahchan @gaida-511 @misshoneypaper @soldierlass @dazaiscum @mockerycrow @kaysav608 @classygardencroissantcolor @innerskylover @kristalhi @hotaruteba @tzutology @sushiumex @l3xiluve @immajustlikeok

@iplayghoul @linoskitten11 @zollaris @whore-for-anime @migeuloharaslxt @blog-luvdance @embermdk @buttercupmuffins

@corpsebridenightamare @15382663884 @discowizard88 @strawberryjambrrread @lieblinqs

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

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changisworld · 2 months

Note

hey ml, could i request a lee know x 9th member reader? they’re secretly fucking and the boys don’t know until they accidentally walk in on them.. 🫶🏻 (i love your work btw!!)

Hi! first of all thank you so much for liking my work, that means so much to me! & second of all I'm so sorry I've taken so long to publish your request, thank you for being patient<3

LOOOVEE this concept so much so thank you for suggesting it!

I hope this is up to your standards since you've been waiting WEEKS for it! feel free to anon me your thoughts.

18+, MDNI SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Word count;2,839

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

Any reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated&l<3

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: Slight sub/dom dynamics, first time fucking, soft sex tbh, sloppy oral(m rec), praise, pet names, slightly public sex(in a shared dorm), manhandling if you squint a whole lot, unprotected sex, blueballs(SORRYY LEEKNOW MY BABY), getting caught, fluffffffff, 9th member reader, mention of past encounters with leeknow.

Saying you were nervous when JYP told you you would be debuting with a boy group instead of the trainees you had been with for the past few years was a serious understatement, but it is now the best thing that has ever happened to you.

You help out a lot when it comes to producing and writing so you spend a lot of time with 3racha which is no surprise, you love the three guys with your entire heart but you can get quite antsy after a while, seeing since there's not as much time being spent with the other members, specifically the main dancer of the group, lee-know.

Because leeknow is an introvert, just like you, it took you both a while to actually warm up to one another and it doesn't help much that you're never having the chance to speak to him one-on-one conversations with him, always having at least one or two other members with you both, until one specific night that would end up secretly making lee-know and you each others favourite members.

You and the group have been practicing new choreographies for your new comeback and the members start saying their goodnights one by one as they leave the room, until an hour later it's just you and leeknow left still practicing. It's not awkward between you and him by any means so you both keep practicing and talking, just messing around. Your shoulders start getting painful and you complain and leeknow offers you a massage which you gladly accept and that's where and when your crush on each other started.

Over the space of a few weeks, you both felt the connection and crush on one another grew, purposely leaving the areas you're both working at to meet at the water dispensers in the building or walking to vending machines just to seek a glance at each other. After a few weeks of doing this, you were helping and recording leeknows parts for a song and then you called him out of the booth once you were satisfied with it and let him listen. As he is doing this, he is standing behind you, leaning down and his hands on either side of the desk, caging you in, making you swallow in your chest. One compliment of his hands leads to him allowing you to touch them, leading to him complimenting you back, leading to you both saying this is wrong because you work together then somehow that leads to you both making out.

You are both in your dorm right now, the one you are sharing with Jeongin, Seungmin and Felix, with leeknow, currently making out with him, something you don't have a lot of chances to do due to your schedule & also trying to hide it.

He is nibbling on your bottom lip every once in a while as his veiny hand is resting on your cheek, thumb caressing it as you're beneath him, hands cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Without realising it, your hips stutter slightly into his thigh, that is currently in between your legs. You feel your cheeks going hot instantly but you could swear you felt him smirk into your lips, so you repeat the action a few more times, trying to make it seem not so painfully obvious how desperate you secretly are. Leeknow pulls away his lips with a quiet pop noise but doesn't move away, just looking into your eyes instead. Your cheeks redden & you try to pull him back to your lip but he doesn't budge, making you shy away, slightly embarrassed. "be careful with what you're doing y/n" he hushes to you in a quiet, sweet voice, his ears red at the tips. "Yea, I'm sorry, was just, aah i don't know" you blush, turning your head to the side to try avoid his gaze but is quickly to paw at your face to get you to turn back. "you're horny? is that it?" he teases, already knowing the answer. "Don't speak like that! makes me shy" you let out a nervous giggle as you try to sit up, but leeknow is quick to stop that from happening, keeping you beneath him. "I wouldn't complain bunny, you can tell me, mkayyy? We just need to be.. careful, giving our situation." He strokes your hair, his face not giving much of what he is thinking away, making you a bit confused on what's going on. "Stooop, you're just confusing me." you play with his hair that is in front of his face, twirling it in your fingers, trying to not seem awkward.

He moves off of you but you're quickly being pulled by him so you're now straddling him which is a first for you both. Your heart is beating in your throat & your face gives it away instantly, which leeknow laughs at. "I'm saying, i'd be happy to help you, we both know how to keep secrets after all, don't we?" he questions, looking up at you as his hands find your waist and squeeze slightly, his face as if he is just talking about what he had for breakfast. You smile at his words, getting goose bumps from his hands on you but melting into them regardless. "I won't tell if you don't" you tease back, trying to sound bold and he smirks at you before pulling you in to kiss you again.

The kiss is quite soft but it only takes a few seconds before his tongue is poking at your lips and you gladly allow it inside, you now both tasting each other. He begins to move your hips against his and your breath stutters, liking the feeling but you begin feeling him growing beneath you as you're grinding against him even more. Your hand reaches down and begins palming the area of his hardening cock still covered by his sweatpants making him let out a small, low sigh which makes you pool in your panties.

Leeknow begins making his way down your jawline and then neck, giving it small kisses but making sure to not leave any marks, knowing it would be impossible to explain it to the other members and also the makeup artists who will need to cover it up. You let out small hums of approval as he is kissing the parts of your collarbone that he can reach while your shirt is still on, palming him a bit quicker and with a bit more pressure. "are you sure you wanna do this leeknow? I don't want this to mess anything up." you mumble out, trying to hold your moans back enough so your words don't splurge out. He lets go of your collarbone & look in your eyes, grinding ever so slightly into your hand. "It was messed up the second we kissed, jagi. We can stop if you want, no questions asked, but for some weird reason, i'm getting the feeling you want this too?" He says, sarcastically as one hand is still resting on your waist as the other is playing with the hem of your vest top. You take a deep breath in, smiling at his words before kissing him again with much more lust in the way your lips are moving together, already knowing the answer to what he said.

Your eyebrows furrow as he leans further back into the couch, your lips chasing him and in the process, your clothed cunt is now right on top of his clothed cock. Leeknow takes this chance to pull off your top, leaving you in a casual bra, not thinking this would happen so you didn't come more prepared. Your lips are interlocked again the second it comes off as your hands snake themselves under his shirt, making him hiss as your hands are a bit cold.

You break the kiss, both of your lips a darkened red colour now, swollen from the nibbles you have been given each other, looking glossy from the spit of your tongues tasting the other. He tries to keep you held against him but you move anyway and settle on your knees, untying his drawstrings, biting your bottom lip from the nerves, not looking at his face directly for more than a few seconds at a time.

"Y/n, should we go to your room? wouldn't want anyone to come back." He asks, putting his hand through your hair as he lifts his hips, helping you pull his sweatpants down, not actually caring about where you both are, just asking to make you feel more comfortable. "you gonna waddle to my room with your sweatpants at you knees? It's fine anyway, nobody's due to be back here for still quite a while, Felix made my room a bombsite earlier anyways." You joke, trying to calm your nerves as you see how big he is just underneath his underwear. He laughs a bit at your words and rests one hand on his stomach as he uses the other one to hold his hand over yours. "Mkay hunny, you just gonna stare at it or what, hmm?" He asks so casually, you would believe he wasn't affected at the situation if it wasn't for his bright red ears giving it away.

You let out a hum as you spit on his tip over his underwear, just to tease him and it works as he mewles under his breath, hips twitching. You pull down his boxers, just enough to let his cock spring free, hitting his stomach over his shirt which he quickly throws to the side after taking it off. You take it and you look at it, admiring how a guys dick can be pretty, also admiring how big he actually is. You begin kissing the tip softly, letting some drool land on his tip ever so often. "please, put it in jagi, pretty please." He groans out, trying to sound normal but it coming out more whiney than anything. You giggle before doing what he requested, licking the underside slowly, circling the sweet spot at the bottom of his tip which makes his hips stutter again, making you pull away. "Don't rush, keep your hips down." you innocently smile at him, looking like a sight for sore eyes in front of him. He just nods his head and swallows, not wanting to ruin it.

You put the tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue around, making him gasp, which is music to your ears. You begin sucking deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you start bobbing your head, using your hand to jerk off the part you can't yet reach in the same rhythm, humming around him, tasting a faint taste of precum. "F-fucck bunny, f--feels so good, holy shit, make sure there's plenty of spit, lo-love that." he groans, eyes trying their hardest to not roll into the back of his head as he is looking at you, head resting on his arm behind his head as the other is holding your hair in a ragged ponytail, holding it out of your face.

You let go of his cock with a loud pop before gurgling the spit that has formed while sucking and you spit it all back onto his dick, soaking it even more than it already is. You take it back in your mouth and within a few seconds of you jerking him at the base and hollowing your cheeks as much as you can along with the wet noises you're making, Leeknow is pulling you off him by the hair as gently as possible, his chest moving quickly and his face flushed, pretty much gasping.

"was g'na cum, w-wanted to put it inside, may-maybe? If not that's fine" he says, voice higher pitched and his tone of voice a lot more unsure sounding, sounding unsure. You lean in and kiss the tip of his nose and nod your head and a few seconds later, you're lying on the couch, on your back as he helps take off your bottoms and underwear with it, leaving you in just your bra and leeknow in between your legs, pushing them back so you can hold them. "You got a condom bunny?" he questions, eyes basically shining with adoration of what he is seeing, jerking slowly. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean, I'm assuming we both are, we are too busy to fuck anyone." you joke, feeling so comfortable in front of him despite being naked, your heart fluttering as he smiles. "Yeah, i'm clean. Ima push in now, you sure?" He asks in a loving voice, other hand caressing the back of your thigh.

You nod and that's as much confirmation he needs and he aligns himself up with you and begins pushing inside. You both gasp and shudder as he buries himself to the hilt and he reaches and takes your hand in his as he begins slowly thrusting. The dorm is filled with quiet moans, oo's and aah's from the both of you, looking into each others eyes. "f-feels so good, so b-good" you whine, words not making much sense as they vomit out of you. Leeknow blushes at your words and leans forward, not stopping his thrusts for a second. He reaches your lips and pecks your cheek, the sweat from his face now in his hair, sticking to his forehead. "You l-look so pretty like this, so pretty. So w-wet for me jagi, so good." You get butterflies in your stomach, feeling your heart getting warm.

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck and your lips connect again, whining into each other. You start to feel yourself bubbling up inside and Leeknows moans and shushed whimpers are just pushing you even further towards it. Your legs begin to feel like jelly as you are both meeting each other midway, thrusting into one another when the front door to the dorm opens.

You and Leeknow freeze as Felix and Seungmin walk inside, shrieking as they see what is happening on the shared couch. "I knew it Seungmin i fucking told you dance has been different because of them, the tension was right! This is our couch too what the fuck! do it in your damn room!" Felix yelps, swivelling around so his back is to you both, who are both still frozen in shock but luckily for you, they can only see your legs that are hanging against Leeknows waist and seeing his head, that is now poking up, looking at them both like a deer in headlights. "We are gonna pretend we didn't fucking see this, scrub the damn couch, we will ask questions later, get dressed!!" Seungmin says, jaw on the floor. Seungmin drags them both into Seungmin and Jeongins room and slams the door behind them.

You and Leeknow look at each other for a minute, not even saying anything. "I can't believe i just got blueballed by Seungmin and the one person who is gonna be a blabbermouth." Leeknow jokes before pulling out, way softer than he was. You giggle as you sit up next to him as he leans in and cuddles into you and you nuzzle your face in his neck. "what do we even say to them and no doubt the rest of the group?" you whisper, giving his neck a few pecks. "well we can either deny it and make them sound crazy and stop seeing each other or we could just.. fess up? We can.. do what ever one you prefer." He says sounding a bit defeated. You remove yourself from his neck and look at him, his face looking a bit bummed out, even though he's trying not to show it. You turn his head to look at you and you smile at him "I.. I would be lying if I said I wanted to stop, I would be lying if I said I haven't developed a mini crush on you, If you think it's easier to stop it all though, we totally can! no pressure!"

You begin looking at the floor, thinking you just ruined it and being embarrassed. The silence fills the room and you sigh before leaning down to gather your clothes but he gives you his shirt instead. "I thought the crush was one sided, thank god. I've been too nervous to fess up" he chuckles slightly, you both blushing as he hugs you again, kissing your head. "We can discuss this a whole lot more while we aren't naked, in your dorm livingroom as our members are down the hall though, mkay? We can mayybee go out on a date after we tell JYP and speak about it then, sound good?" He jokes again, smiling at you. "I guess that would be good" you say, joking back as you push his sweaty hair out of hi face. He begins reaching out for the clothes sprawled out on the floor, Him helping you get changed.

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irulaan · 9 months

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OPEN WOUND | CARMEN BERZATTO

— He understand the sacrifices he has to do in order to see you smile, to not disappoint you — as he has done so many times even when you don’t say. He understands those sacrifices sometimes came labeled as family gatherings.

✧ PAIRING. carmy berzatto x fem!reader

✧ WORD COUNT. 3.6k

✧ WARNINGS. anxiety and u know all of carmy’s troubles. a loving family. mommy issues/parents issues/family issues, all the issues? i just watched like 3 episodes? so ooc carmy maybe? i don’t know… kinda corny too oops. no use of y/n. english isn’t my first language, expect mistakes.

Carmy was afraid of abruptly colliding with an imaginary wall, so he stays away. He knows pain, so if he can avoid it — hell, he would.

“I don’t really know about this,” He appears in your field of view, wearing his usual clothes and a familiar concerned expression — this shouldn’t be nearly as stressful as his days inside The Beef.

You instinctively approach him, mirroring his expression. “What’s wrong? Something happened?”

He’s taken aback by your question, but he quickly understands what you mean. “Oh, no, everything it’s fine, I promise… It’s not about nor has something to do with the beef.”

And he’s naturally lying; all his current worries have their foundations in the beef or what was left of it. He’s damaged far beyond that, but you’ve learned how to read him, when to inquire, and when to remain silent.

It clicks for you when you see he’s struggling to find the words; he’s trying to devise an excuse without hurting you. You feel foolish for a moment; of course, family reunions would affect him like this.

You reach for his hand, and then his arm when he avoids your gaze, “I can tell them we’re not going if you don’t feel sure about it,” You offer, and you can almost hear how the conversation unfolds inside his head, how his engines try to maintain a semblance of calm. “I was nervous too when I got to meet your chefs…”

“It’s different,” He deadpans, and you smile, resting your hand on his shoulder, trying not to appear too concerned by playing with a single curl of his rather messy hair.

He looks at you when you let slip out a nervous laugh. “How so? You call your meetings’ family’; that says a lot.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he withdraws from your touch. “But it is not quite real… and it’s still non-functional.”

“What are you afraid of, Carmy?” You stand there, feeling your stomach drops by seeing him like this over something that feels so different for you. “My family’s going to love you, I’m sure.”

He shook his head, his face already getting that characteristic light red tint.

“Making a bad impression? They’ll realize you’re wasting your time” His beautiful eyes refused to stare at you in such moments. He’s afraid someday, somehow, you’ll unleash your anger on him because he’s just a depressed, over-thinker, anxious guy. “I know how family meetings work… It will be a mess—I won’t be able to go through it…”

“What—what do you mean? Wasting my time?” Your incredibly soft voice so understanding, as if you’re deeply connected to his mind. It’s the only explanation he can think of.

He’s convinced he’s a waste of time, even now, yet you’re not getting upset; you’re not attempting to hurl accusations at him. Granted, you’ve never done that, and Carmen doesn’t truly believe you’re capable of it… but that’s how his wounded mind works.

Carmen doesn’t provide an answer, so you try to press on to reassure him. “Carmy, you’re not wasting my time—“

He looks at you amid your sentence and suddenly comprehends there are some sacrifices he’s willing to make for you. “Fuck—okay, let’s go.”

“Carmy, I’m not—“You’re visibly confused; he doesn’t seem to mind as he takes your hand.

“Please, I’m going to lose this impulse… just— I’m trying my best,”

A vast, relieved smile covers your face, and Carmen feels he’s gazing directly at the sun — and he loves it.

You cradle his face in your hands, gently making him meet your gaze.

“If you want to leave at any time, please tell me?” There’s a shy nod, and you realize it’s a futile question to ask. But you accept it.

“I love you, Carmy,” You promise, planting a gentle peck on his cheek before heading outside.

Your older sister obviously is the one who had to open the door, her and her extrovert energy, her weird-looking eyes, and her funny hairstyles. “There she is! My baby sister,” She usually crushes your bones under her sheer strength, and after it comes a shower of kisses. “Oh, god, I have missed you so much.”

And it’s good to see her this energetic and lovingly — you don’t want to cross her path when she’s pissed… and that’s her, the majority of the time.

She doesn’t understand personal space, so she doesn’t respect it. Your older sister doesn’t hesitate to give Carmy the same kind of hug. “And there you are! I’m Margot!” She exclaims, introducing herself and giving him a loud kiss on the cheek. Carmen only manages to whisper his name… “Mom, did you know that our baby sister’s boyfriend is the best chef in the world?” She shouts, ensuring everyone in the house hears her.

You gulp, and almost get whiplash from how fast your eyes look for his. He doesn’t seem comfortable at all; he’s stiff and fidgety, moving his fingers as if searching for something to hold. You offer your hand, and he wastes no time intertwining his fingers with yours.

As you step into the house, your sister closes the door and disappears into the kitchen, where you can hear your mom lightly scolding her. “Mags! You’re making him uncomfortable,” Then you’re greeted by her warm features and a soft smile that’s so similar to yours. She doesn’t even glance at you—her attention is fixed on your anxious boyfriend. “I’m sorry, child, she’s a bit like that,” she apologizes.

Carmy is enveloped in an endearing hug, the kind your mother or grandmother can only master. He suddenly wants to weep. How’s it that he didn’t deserve that warmth from his own mother?

It doesn’t last long, though. She soon wraps her arms around you, embracing you as tightly as your sister, and whispers how much she loves you. It’s characteristic of her—she’s unafraid to show her emotions.

And that’s all Carmen ever longed for.

“Where’s dad?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “That old man forgot something… you know how he is,” she replies.”

And then, for Carmen’s well-being, another whirlwind approaches. He needs a breath of fresh air before whoever is descending the stairs arrives, ready to offer more hugs and love.

It’s your brother-in-law. Carmy’s lucky this man isn’t affectionate at all. “You’re earlier, bug,” he remarks, giving you a dry pat on the head, tousling your hair slightly. “Love, how did your baby sister do this?”

“Maybe it’s her boyfriend!” You heard Mag’s loud chuckle from the kitchen.

“Thank you, Carmen, for turning her into a punctual person, for god’s sake!” They shake hands. You observe your brother-in-law nearly stifling his inclination to crack a joke or be downright abrasive. He pledged to Margot that he’d be friendly… “It must be because you’re a chef; you can’t afford to be late, right?”

Carmy suddenly becomes hyperaware of his surroundings—the quiet conversation on TV, your mother and sister laughing in the kitchen, the distant voices of kids upstairs, his sweaty palms… and the broad smile on the man before him… expecting him to say something? God, he feels like a complete freak… “Yeah, th—that’s right”.

Did you fucking stutter?

You quickly notice his unease and almost drag him away from the man. “Mom, do you need help?”

“Baby? Your nieces are upstairs! Get them, please?”

After a sigh, you look at Carmen, who is already staring at you. He can clearly see how excited you are — how can you not be? When everyone loves you so much, and they show you? Even him right now, when he’s overwhelmed, he only can think about how much he loves you. “You want to stay here?”

He can’t; he’s going to have a panic attack. He’s overwhelmed by racing thoughts, the cacophony of sounds disrupting his thinking, and his heart rate threatening to skyrocket. He’s one sentence, one laugh, one scream away from losing connection with you. If he can’t step outside to breathe fresh air, he’ll cause a scene in your parent’s house. “I need to go out; it’s too much—“

“—I’m sorry, let’s go outside,” You almost drag him outside under the concerned stare of your sister.

When the cold air floods his senses, he can finally breathe properly. His fingers work on autopilot, seeking and reaching for a cigarette. He sits down on the old bench, you remained on your feet by his side.

It’s a whole scene you’re familiar with. Only lacking Tina and Richie’s loud screaming.

In moments like this, you know better than to exacerbate his unease with words and questions… he has learned to calm himself by his own means, and you respect that.

Once the cigarette is thrown away, you eventually become a part of his surroundings again. Carmy snakes his arms around your waist, pushing his head against your belly.

Your sweet smell comforts him. He inhales deeply when you card your fingers through his hair.

“You want to go home?” You ask, planting a kiss just above his hairline.

He begrudgingly distance himself from you. “Not really, it’s just—everybody loves each other?”

You pause momentarily, your gaze shifting from the bustling room to Carmen beside you. “I’m sorry about my sister and her husband, they have been like that since ever, and I understand if you feel bad; they mean no harm, tho” You completely miss the point.

Carmen looks at you — behind his eyes, a mixture of fear and frustration. “It’s not that, I couldn’t care less about it! It’s like I have—I have this fear—I’m not good at social interactions, I try my best—but did you see, heard? I fucking stutter! I—“

You try to comfort him through physical touch — laying your hand on his arm to ground him in the present. “You’re nervous; it’s expected, Carmy…”

He pressed his lips into a line. But you continue, “I’m or was as socially awkward as you are. Believe me when I say they’re used to odd phrases, stuttering, awkward silences, and silly laughs to avoid a question.”

“But they love you… it’s different,” He emphasizes. Carmen’s gaze remains somewhere else, his fingers fidgeting slightly.

“They love you too, and before you say anything, it’s simply because you make me happy, god! Carmy! They always tease me when I speak about you because I’m so in love with you because there’s always a smile on my face. And do you know how long they’ve waited for a huge smile from me? Years. And you know why, so yes, of course, they love you,”

He lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t really know what to say — I’m sorry, just my head messed up with me…”

A tender smile lights your face. “I know, Carmy, and I’m glad you can recognize when your mind is just playing games… you’ve come far,” you reassure him with a gentle smile. “And I won’t be pissed or angry about your insecurities or worries, but I understand if you’re waiting for me to almost kill you for it… It sucks, sure, but I understand. I’ve felt like that”.

Carmen’s gaze finally meets yours; he’s being so vulnerable right now that you only want to cuddle him, hoping all his insecurities vanish under the morning sun.

“Should we go inside? I don’t really want to worry your mother or sister,”

“If you want. If you need more time, we can stay here a bit longer,”

His voice is quieter when he finally speaks, a hint of relief lacing his words. “I’m better.” The tension in his body seems to ease slightly as he takes a deep breath, his expression slowly relaxing — he’s trying his best.

The soft sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes, the low individual conversations, the baby’s blabbing, and the dim lights on the dinning room shapes a homely ambience.

“You need to see her in action! She’s always been the best cook of the family, you know, Carmy?” Your sister interjects as her eyes light up with nostalgia.

That catches Carmy’s attention. He’s staring at you with genuine curiosity. So, stereotypically, your mom gets up in search of something. “Oh, you have to see her photos!” She chuckles, scavenging for the photo album. “She was so stubborn, wanting to make her own food for her or anyone’s birthdays, always looking for new recipes, she has done the craziest stuff!”

While your mother shows Carmy all your embarrassing childhood pictures, your brother-in-law can’t contain himself, he has to make a joke, and his playful grin gives him away. “I’m glad you’re a chef; she’s not at good as her parents want her to be.”

And your mother frowns, feigning annoyance, as Margot gives him a subtle punch.

“Because you suck at it, child,” Your father quips at him. “She’s good, right? Carmy”

Carmy considers for a moment, his gaze shifting from one sibling to another — he can mess up things if he doesn’t pick the right words. “Objectively, she’s quite decent. Some of her pastries are better than mine.”

You had plastered a lovesick grin on your flushed face. “I was born gifted, you see,”

He relishes in your soft giggles.

Your sister chuckles at the little scene your both doing, sharing a knowing look with your mother. “She was in diapers, building mud cakes outside, in the front yard…” Her stare lingers on you for a bit. “Do you remember, mom?”

Your mother nods, a fond smile on her lips. “Of course I do! Both of you treated your sister like she was a toy,” She teases her children. “Look at this, Carmen, she had been everything by the age of four.”

She finds her favorite picture of you, a huge smile paired with a set of eyes mimicking two big stars. “You were so cute.”

Your cheeks flush at his candid compliment, grateful for the levity that’s now enveloped the conversation. The shared stories and gentle teasing ease the tension, allowing Carmy to glimpse the playful dynamics of your family. He’s relaxing, finally starting to feel comfortable being around so many people that expected a lot from him.

Staring at each other, you both smile. And you don’t miss the dreamy sigh from your sister. You decided to give him a faint peck on his lips — earning a few ‘yuck’s and ‘wow’s from the kids.

“Okay, lovebirds!” Your brother said, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance — but Carmen can’t read him at all.

Not wanting him to sour the moment, your sister fights him back, “Why’s your girlfriend not here, uh?” You feel Carmy tense beside you as his hand flies to your thigh. To ground himself, to brace his rushing thoughts.

He’s expecting confrontation.

Your brother only frowns, “Funny,”

And Carmen’s so stiff, he could break if you push him. By means to help him, you whisper into his ear. “She didn’t come because Mag told her she was a milquetoast” He looked at you sideways with a confused expression. “Was recently, tho, she’ll be fine.”

Your brother shrugged and seemed to be worked up about something your sister said, but you couldn’t catch it. “Stop treating my girlfriends like they’re your friends! That’s what happens.”

Margot would rather die than not have the last word; she was provoked. “Stop bringing girls that can’t take a joke!” You could hear a few choked sounds as they tried to repress a laugh. “They’re just bland as you…”

But that was enough for your dear mother, “Margot! Stop mocking your brother, you’re acting like teenagers again!”

“I think it is the midlife crisis…” Said your brother-in-law.

Your sister laughs theatrically, bending his neck to throw her head back. Just to come back and stare directly at your brother with a big smile. “Something we have in common!”

“Carmen, dear, you want more?” Your mother whispered to him, trying to keep the conversation for the both of them only.

She understands he is fairly timid and awkward.

He smiles at her, into her wrinkled eyes that carry a joyful gaze, at her delicate and low voice tone. “Oh, no, I’m fine, thank you—thank you… I—uh, it was fine” He feels like he’s making that weird face, and your mother’s smile grows. And before continuing, he runs a hand over his face and his already messy curls, “Sorry—it was great, I don’t have this type of homemade meal often.”

She nods, glad he doesn’t lie or coat her in praises. It’s nothing out of the world but has other qualities; it tastes like childhood, like home, like your best day under the sun. It tastes mundane and, at the same time, magical. And he can’t wait to be a recurring guest…

“I’m delighted you liked it. She should prepare meals like this more often for you… because I’m sure, she’s always eating like a princess.”

Carmy nods, feeling his cheeks flush under your mother’s discerning gaze, particularly as they discuss you. “She is. I care about her”.

Your mother places a reassuring hand on his, her encouraging smile not going unnoticed, “It shows, Carmy,” He feels on the verge of tears again. Hearing that he’s doing well is a rarity; he only ever hears it from you. While it’s enough, he wishes his family did the same. “You’re a great guy.”

A knot tightens in his throat, and all he can manage to mumble without breaking is a quiet: “Thanks—“, He won’t fight your mother’s words.

“You should come over for the holidays… we spend a week on the coast. My parents had a great house there, and it’s lovely,” breaks in your father, “Everyone would love to see both of you there…”

Everyone is nodding, excitement filling the air. You probably had the best memories in that beach house. But Carmy’s eyes are glued on the table, his fingers absently tracing patterns on the back of your hand.

As the invitations hang in the air, an uneasy tension settles between you both — shouldn’t you respond to that should you?

The weight of the offer, the promise of belonging, and the haunting fear of judgment gnaw at his thoughts. And he’s spiraling again.

Your mother, in hopes of comforting him, takes his hand. “Oh, yeah, child, we’re a bit messy but nothing too bad… you’ll like it,” She’s nonchalant about it; she doesn’t want to pressure him. But the oldest of her daughters had to interrupt her. “—Baby sister loves it! You’re going to love it there too.”

Carmy smiled and gave them a quick nod. Your father makes an “ok” with his hand, and your lovely boyfriend stops being under the spotlight.

In the car back home, under the low-volume radio, he sighs, his voice tinged with resignation. “I wish I could just… step into your world without feeling like I’m going to mess it all up”. His words carry the weight of his insecurities, the years of feeling out of place and never fitting in.

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently, your silent support a comforting gesture amidst his internal turmoil. “Carmy, they want you there because of who you are, not who you think you should be.”

His eyes leave the way for a second to meet yours. You catch a mixture of yearning and gloom reflected in them. “I know, but… what if I can’t be what they want me to be?”

The ache in your chest matches the one in his voice. You can hear how he’s fighting within himself, the desire to be loved and accepted warring against his self-doubt. He was raised to feel like that. “Carmy, you don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to be perfect. They’ll accept you for who you are, flaws and all. I mean — they invited you over. They don’t do that often. My mother loved you!” It sounds a bit more gleeful than you expected. All because you’re excited he’s welcomed into the family.

He lets out a bitter chuckle, his shoulders slumping. “You say that, but it’s not that simple for me.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, erasing your smile. And he regrets them the instant you recoil in your seat, even though it’s an unconscious action.

A second passes, and for him, it’s like minutes are splitting you, carrying you away from him. He doesn’t know what to say; he’s resigned, waiting for the consequences.

Again, it was a nasty point of view from his mind. You reposition yourself on the seat before speaking. “Carmy, we’ve been through a lot together. We’ve seen each other changing and for good. And I’ve always been there for you, if you still need space, time… it’s fine. We’ll find a way out, yes?”

He parks the car, and then his eyes search for yours. He longs to be better, to know better. For him, the restaurant, his family—for Sugar, for you.

“I don’t think I deserve you.”

A sad smile touches your lips. “Just because you’re going through a hard time doesn’t mean you’re less worthy. I loved you in New York, and I love you like this. Your past and present emotions and thoughts don’t get a say in what you deserve or not, especially when we’re talking about nice things.”

“But I’m—“

“—Carmy! You won’t make me change my opinion” Your tone is softer than severe — you’ll never be severe.

And he’ll never be unloved.

“Did you realize you didn’t bring the pepto?”

a/n: Shitty ending, I KNOW I’m sorry… If I keep writing, I am going to end nowhere, so it has to end like this JDKKW. Hope you enjoyed <3. Reblogs/comments/likes are very appreciated <3

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#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst

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deramin2 · 16 days

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(Spoilers for Critical Role Campaign 1)

I don't have any expectations for wherever FCG will stay dead or come back somehow because I've spent 9 years watching Sam Riegel totally subvert my expectations in a narratively compelling way.

But I will say that "FCG shouldn't come back because it would lessen the impact of a narratively perfect death" is EXACTLY what people were saying about Percy's first death after C1 E68. (The first televised character death.) If he had to have an end, it was a fitting end that, while tragic, neatly tied up the thesis of the story. Would Taliesin even want him to come back? With Whitestone saved and Ripply killed, was there even much left to explore?

They found Percy's death letter telling them he loved them all but please bury him in a ditch with all his designs so he could be forgotten by history. He was so sorry for all he'd done and he could never make it up.

But they tried anyway, having to wrest Percy's soul away from Orthax. The players knew what they said in the resurrection ritual was meaningful along with their rolls. But they did not know they were also having to convince Taliesin. If they'd tried to appeal to Percy's soul in the wrong way, dice be damned, Percy was going to refuse. What we got was really meaningful and powerful roleplay (especially from Marisha and Laura) that did convince Percy along with successful rolls.

Being brought back did not at all weaken Percy's own sacrifice or the impact of his death. It forced him to confront everything he'd been running from. It forced him to see that there were people who loved him and would not let him throw himself away for them. They didn't want a martyr, they wanted their friend. It utterly changed the trajectory of his character.

There's only four ways I can think of on the table to bring FCG back:

True Resurrection — Incredibly expensive high level spell. They would have to find the materials as well as someone who both can and is willing to cast the spell in the middle of a war to stop a second Calamity. None of this would be easy. The ritual could still fail. FCG could decline to come back and the other players would not know that until they went to all the effort. The Raven Queen views True Resurrection as heresy which is why they didn't try it on Vax. How would a second chance change them?

Reincarnate — Lower level and cheaper spell. FCG would come back as a fleshy being instead of an Aeormaton. Would the experience live up to FCG's fantasies about it? How would it change them to realize they are truely alive, and always were, but are now also mortal? Reverse Veth story? Wild ass Pinocchio retelling? What does it mean to get a second chance but everything about you is different?

Wish — I think this would count as duplicating True Resurrection. High component cost and requires a high level magic user. (If it's duplicating a spiral there's no risk of no longer being able to cast Wish.)

Hag Deal — They do know a fatestitcher Hag who likes them and limes making deals even more. Orym may be able to just extend his existing deal. What are the consequences for the deal marker as well as FCG? Would the robit feel responsible for that person's fate? How would that affect how they feel about coming back and the meaning they need to make from it.

I don't think there's a right or best option because whatever we speculate on, the actual result will be full of meaning and very poignant. I can't imagine that Bell's Hells won't try to bring him back. They've lost so much already. They couldn't bring back Eshteross or Bertrand or Will & Derrig. They couldn't live with not even trying. Maybe their method works, maybe it doesn't. But at least they tried.

And if FCG does come back, they have to live with knowing that even though they saved their friends and put an end to Otohan, they also hurt their friends by treating themselves as disposable. They forced their friends to confront that each of them might have done the same and that's deeply unhealthy. It will change the character development tremendously.

My favorite film and play genre is where the protagonist dies (or nearly dies) (usually self-inflicted) at the beginning and has to journey through purgatory to find themselves again before they can return to the living. Films like Wristcutters: A Love Story (2006) or Castaway on the Moon (김씨 표류기 2009). Death matters because it reminds you to live. The journey is finding meaning in both life and death and coming back utterly changed.

#critical role #Critical Role Spoilers #critical role meta #critical role campaign 1 #critical role campaign 3 #vox machina #Bell's Hells #Percival de Rolo #Fresh Cut Grass #wristcutters a love story #Castaway on the Moon

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plantsjustwannahavefun · 7 months

Text

I keep seeing so many people here getting angry that this season is "vilifying Ed", and it's depressingly fascinating to see how others can watch the same show and somehow see something completely different. Is it simply the lack of media literacy? Is it the inability to appreciate and enjoy complex, nuanced, morally grey characters without willfully blocking out anything even slightly unpalatable about them to the point where the character they think they love isn't really that character anymore?

Because, uh... Season 1 already "vilified" Ed plenty. Except "vilify" is the wrong word, of course. It wasn't in any way malicious or mean-spirited, quite the contrary, it was often played as comedic (until the end of episode 10 when it was anything but) - Ed was always meant to be a sympathetic character, he's a protagonist after all, and the show's portrayal of him is very compassionate. It merely refused to sugarcoat or shy away from his darker side. He's literally history's most famous pirate, you don't become one by being nice and treating everyone gently. He ambushed and strangled his own father to death when he was like 9 years old (100% deserved and justifiable ofc, but it still bears saying it out loud like this just to comprehend how unhinged this actually was). He loves torturing and maiming people for fun, and sometimes even animals (that scene with forcing a turtle to fight a crab). He didn't give a fuck about his crew members dying to satisfy his whim to meet Stede. He entirely failed in his role as a captain in ep 4. He effectively played a double agent with Izzy and Stede for a while before changing his mind. He attempted to murder Lucius. And while you could try to argue his punishment of Izzy was at least to some degree deserved, not only cutting Izzy's toe off but forcing him to eat went beyond punishment, it was sadistic torture.

So, yeah, please just read all that and take it in. And then remember once again that Ed is also a traumatised, lonely, depressed, sensitive, creative, curious, deeply passionate person yearning for true love and for something different in life... just like Stede. He loves music and can play the piano. He wrote a very vulnerable song and sand his heart out. He likes his tea with seven sugars. He enjoys fashion and dressing up. He has such a limitless sense of wonder for the world. He went on a trek with Stede just to make him happy, even though he hated nature and was in a shit mood that day. He wants to host a talent show. He wants to become free. He's clever and funny and fascinating. I love Ed.

Yes, it's possible to reconcile those two sides of him and accept both sides as the "real" Ed. You have to reconcile the two sides if you want to enjoy him as a character, because if you don't, you're going to either detest him to the core (which would make enjoying the show practically impossible since he's sort of a main character...), or you'll only be able to enjoy a diminished, crippled, cardboard cutout version of his character, which would be such a pity and a massive disservice to the creators of this show who worked hard to create interesting, multidimensional characters.

Not to mention you'd be missing one of the core messages of the show - the idea that people still deserve love and can be loved even if they're imperfect, or not necessarily good people. Because love is a human condition. It's not a sole dominion of "good" people. "Bad" people can fall in love too - even if, just like them, that love isn't exactly "nice" or "pure", and neither are the relationships that stem from it. They can be messy and exasperating. But "bad" people can also grow and change because of it. That's what OFMD is ultimately about - growth and change, learning to accept yourself but also become better. That can't happen if the character is already 100% perfect the way they are.Ed is far from that. So is Izzy. They can both become better, and they both still deserve compassion and understanding, because that's the environment people need to become better.

So, if you're mad that at the start of S2 the crew are sympathetic to Izzy's suffering and want to help him instead of kicking him when he's down, and what Ed did to him is being acknowledged as cruel and wrong... congratulations, you have completely missed what OFMD is all about.

#normally I hate fandom drama and hate getting involved but I've seen too many of those posts #so unfortunately it needs saying #and tbh there seem to be a few Izzy fans out there who are unreasonably hateful and unsympathetic towards Ed too #so they need to hear this as well #izzy hands #blackbeard #ofmd ed teach #ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means death s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers

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lovelyjj · 21 days

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I thought a cute thing would be how in I think the second episode Finn and Rachel kiss while they were practicing then kinda blew her off like the scene with the blanket and he kisses her and lays her down kinda with jj and John bs sister maybe he got roped into doing the school play or something then blows her off kinda how he did at school but like a fluff ending or she’s a kook and he blows her off with a happy ending like maybe the ending could be him at the play announcing his love for her and John bs like what or at the cafeteria and if it’s a kook reader maybe her brother is topper

Play

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.2k

a/n: sorry i feel like this is bad.

JJ somehow got roped into doing the school play. You decided to help him out because he asked. Not one to turn down JJ, you agreed. You figured you were doing the school a favor, as well as JJ. JJ was a nice boy and you were happy to help.

You and JJ were pretty good friends. It was easy to help a friend out. The auditorium was open because you booked it to practice. You laid out a blanket and some pillows on the stage. You were excited to help JJ because you had a little crush on him.

The crush wasn’t just any crush. JJ was special. He made your heart race and your stomach fill with butterflies. He made you smile and he was also extremely beautiful. You just didn’t know if he felt the same way.

JJ sauntered in the room ready to practice. You both greeted each other, happy to be in each other’s presence. The two of you rehearsed for a long while. Then JJ asked for a break, which you granted.

“Here I’ve prepared a little spot to sit down,” you gestured to the blanket and pillows.

“Ok cool.” JJ responded.

You and JJ sat down on the blankets and talked.

“I was wondering why you asked me to help you with your singing, I think you’re pretty good,” you stated.

“Well this is my only chance to be good like you,” JJ responded.

“You think I’m good?”

“Well ya know when I first met you I thought you were kinda crazy. I didn’t know what to think. I thought maybe you were a little temperamental. But then I herd you sing,” JJ eyes lit up.

“It touched something in me,” JJ continued.

“You’re cool Y/N,” JJ complimented.

You smiled at him. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Yeah.”

You brought some virgin cosmos to drink with you. You poured JJ a drink and gave it to him. You also poured one for yourself.

“Cheers!”

“Cheers.”

You both sipped your drink and JJ leaned in a little bit.

“You know you can kiss me if you want to,” you spoke softly.

“I want to,” JJ replied.

JJ put his hand on the floor next to your hip, caging you in. He lowered you down onto the blanket and pillows. He then placed his lips on yours.

The kiss was soft and gentle. You were happy about the kiss. JJ was a little apprehensive.

There was a warm feeling in your chest. JJ pulled away and you both looked into each other’s eyes. Then you went back to kissing.

Your lips were crushing together. Then ever so slowly JJ pulled away. JJ started to get scared because he was feeling so many emotions so intensely. JJ quickly stood up.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked.

“No. no. Um��. I just gotta go.” JJ explained.

“Look, please don’t tell anybody about this, okay?” JJ requested.

And with that JJ ran away leaving you utterly confused and hurt.

———-

JJ was feeling overwhelmed. The kiss the two of you shared was wonderful but then he started thinking about what it means. He didn’t know how to express his feelings. He was feeling things too deeply and that scared him.

JJ would see you in the halls at school and try to avoid you. He didn’t know how to act around you anymore. He was thinking maybe that you might treat him differently after the kiss. He was scared to face you because he developed deep feelings and didn’t know how to handle that.

You were upset that JJ blew you off after that kiss. You were also frustrated because you have been meaning to talk to him but you couldn’t catch him. The play was fast approaching and you thought JJ needed your help.

Eventually you had enough of him avoiding you so you decided to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t want to corner JJ but you were running out of options.

You saw JJ walking down the hall and you were behind him. You put on your brave face and ran up to him. You took his hand and guided him to an empty classroom. You got in front of the door so he couldn’t leave.

“We need to talk,” you stated.

“I don’t think we do,” JJ drawled.

“Come on JJ, seriously?!”

JJ’s facial expression was nonchalant. It was starting to make you upset.

“I think I deserve some type of explanation as to why you ran out on me,” you continued.

“It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me,” JJ explained.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“It means Im the one who fucked up not you,” JJ replied.

“Good to know.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you,” JJ said apologetically.

“Well you did.”

“I know fuck- I- i’m sorry.”

“Things are just really complicated for me right now, I can’t handle this stuff,” JJ continued.

“This stuff?” you scoffed.

“Look, I should go I’m sorry,” JJ said in a hurry.

And with that he left leaving you upset for the second time.

——————-

JJ was working hard. He didn’t want to let anyone down. He had to do good in this play or he would be a laughingstock. He was trying his best. He was also trying his best not to think about you. But that was very hard because you consumed his every thought.

You were wondering how JJ was doing without your help because ever since that kiss he’s been acting different and won’t let you help him. You were kind of heartbroken because you desperately missed him.

The play was coming up fast and before you knew it it was here. You watched from backstage as JJ played his part. He was doing very well. You were very impressed. You knew he could do it though. You were proud of him.

You did your own parts in the play and JJ watched you with hearts in his eyes. You were doing a beautiful job just how he knew you would.

When the play was ending JJ decided to be bold. He couldn’t take not being with you any longer. He decided to do something very bold.

“Can I have your attention please,” he shouted.

Everyone’s attention was suddenly on JJ. He wanted everyone to know what he was about to say.

“I have something very important to say.”

“Um this is for Y/N. First of all I want to apologize for my behavior these past couple weeks. You didn’t deserve that. I’m very sorry. I just didn’t know how to express my feelings. But now i’m ready. You have captured my heart and I’m in love with you. I can’t hide it anymore. You’re the light to my dark. I’m so sorry i’ve been such a dick lately. You didn’t deserve that and you honestly deserve more than me but I’d love to be yours, if you’ll have me.”

“What the fuck?” John B whispered from the audience.

You stepped out from backstage and asked, “Did you really mean that?”

“Yes of course, I meant every word.” JJ confirmed.

Without thinking you threw yourself into JJ’s armed and kissed the life out of him. The audience erupted in applause.

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radiant-reid · 1 year

Text

The Right Person

request:

things spencer would say to his ex who’s his ex but not really his ex bc their hearts always belong to the other but is actually his ex bc they called it quits but just bc it’s over doesn’t mean it’s really over cuz he’s just: last slide

Summary: Right person, wrong time... at least until there's a part two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst, sort of)

Content Warning: a tiny spicy moment

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist | Navigation

Spencer has always jumped into things too quickly. It's the cocktail of being a romantic, coming from a broken home, failing with most social relationships, and the desperate need for a family.

So when Y/n came along, all smiles and beauty, he moved too fast. Fell is probably a more accurate verb. He fell in love so quickly without any logic that he couldn't help proposing a year in and marrying her six months later.

She offered him support and unconditional love. And for the first time in a tough five years in the FBI, he felt like the world wasn't completely terrible.

The whirlwind relationship would have been much better if taken slowly. It might have even worked out. With their fast pace, neither of them could keep up and after four years, trying to make it work wasn't worth it. The therapy, fights, and long periods without speaking wasted time and drained them both emotionally.

It was like fire. Hot and heavy or warm and comforting, but they were destined for a burn.

Sure, they loved each other more than anything, and they would forever argue that they're soulmates and the timing was at fault.

When Beatrice was nine months old, it was clear things wouldn't, so for her sake, Spencer moved out, the fighting stopped, and they could be friends.

For three months, they've been doing well with their co-parenting routine. Since Spencer had spent so much time away during their marriage, Y/n didn't have to get over the feeling of loss.

Maybe some of that could be accounted for by the fact it still felt like they were dating, the magnetism between them still volatile.

It's Saturday when Y/n's baking in the kitchen. She's yet to enquire about selling it, probably because they're yet to properly get divorced. Somehow, it doesn't feel weird for her to live in their marital home. She ignores how little it feels like they're broken up, especially when she's eagerly anticipating him coming home back from a case. He's not even coming to see her, but she's changed out of her pajamas and put makeup on.

"Guess who?" A voice says while the matching fingers block her vision.

If she didn't know that voice like the back of her hand, she would have freaked out. "You're so close to losing your key, Spencer Walter Reid."

He pulls his hands away, resting his back against the bench with his body facing her. "Boring answer. I would have accepted sexy ex or the smartest man alive." He says, smiling his perfect wide smile.

He looks good, a golden glow still surrounding him, and his shirt fits him tightly around his muscles. She's allowed to say that as his eventual ex-wife, right? It's more of a compliment to herself for attracting attractive, intelligent men. That's how she justifies it anyway.

"Who's been inflating your ego, loser?" She teases.

Repartee of their level is something no one else could ever offer him, and he cringes when other people try. "Jealous?" He asks.

Yes, she is. She'd love to shower him with compliments. Tell him about how nice his hair looks a little bit longer, how he should wear more light blue because it really is his color, how good he smells, and some less innocent things as well. The jealousy boils in her at the thought of someone else doing that. Still, she resists.

"That someone else has to vacate the bathroom for hours each day so you can do your hair? No." She lies. It's a lie on all levels.

Unimportantly, he doesn't spend that long in the bathroom, and he's about the furthest thing from a narcissist there is, but deeply, she would jump at the opportunity to be locked out of the bathroom while he spends far too long in the shower and be greeted with the gorgeous sight of a towel wrapped around his hips and his chest showing.

"Okay." He lets it go, and it annoys her that he won't believe the time. "Can I have some cookie dough?"

"Say please." She directs.

He pouts too much like Beatrice. "Please." He complies before opening her mouth.

She frowns, unsure if he seriously wants her to hand-feed him cookie dough. The answer is yes because he doesn't shut his mouth and tell her it's a joke. She scoops some up, putting her fingers into his mouth. He doesn't let them sneak out without wrapping his lips. It's suggestive, and it doesn't disgust her.

"You'll get salmonella." She tells him when he finally lets her fingers out of his mouth. She tries not to blush like mad while she wipes her fingers on a kitchen towel.

"You'll have to look after me then," Spencer says, justifying it. "As the person who gave it to me."

She shakes her head. "Gross."

"Why are you baking on a Saturday?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her. He's suspicious whenever things change in her behavior, more so than anyone else's.

"I'm anticipating being busy tomorrow." She answers ambiguously.

It was on purpose, but the goal wasn't to make him curious and ask more questions. She just wasn't jumping at the opportunity to hear his opinion on her love life.

Unfortunately, his curiosity peaked when she started speaking. "Why?" She mumbles out an answer that he doesn't catch. "Come on, don't be shy."

"I'm going on a date." She says finally, avoiding looking at him.

That knocks him off guard, the smile slipping from his face as he steps back. Quickly, he forces himself to say something recoverable to hide the hurt and shock he's feeling at the unexpected news. "Does he know you're married?"

He knows he has no right to be upset about it. Not only are they not exclusive, but they're, in no way, romantically involved. It's why there's no bite in his words, nothing vicious in his tone.

It hits him harder with every passing second. Her statement is something he never expected, and questioning why that is while standing in the middle of their kitchen with her in a beautiful new top, yeah, it's gut-wrenching.

She holds up her bare left hand, shed of a wedding ring. "He doesn't, no."

"What's his name?" Spencer asks next. There are a million questions on his mind, but he keeps the conversation casual.

"Bradley."

She feels guilty for it, unsure if it's cheating guilt or mom guilt, and she's forced to constantly remind herself that it's okay, she's allowed to say yes when she gets asked out and be swept away by someone else.

His next move, to her, seems predictable. Whenever he's looking for more information, he stays quiet, waiting for her to feel awkward enough to elaborate. Even though she used to read him like an open book, she can't see that he's processing, replaying their worst moments-the moments that led them here- in his head.

She keeps talking, annoyed that his old trick is working when really she's just breaking his heart more. "He's a defense attorney, but he accidentally took my coffee the other day."

Spencer resists the urge to scoff because 'accidentally.' He's seen Morgan use the move a hundred times: pretend to mix up the coffees, apologize, and seal the deal by asking if he can make it up to her. "Switching teams, I see." He interrupts, predominantly so that he doesn't have to hear anything else. "And a new top." He mentions. Again, a tactic to get her to stop talking. "What color is it? It would look really nice as a feature wallpaper."

He does that, too, only complimenting things adjacent to her. Talking about fucking interior design instead of just saying she looks nice pushes her buttons, and she knows where his are.

"Yeah, I was wearing a jacket in a similar color, so I'm hoping it's a subliminal message." She admits. "Plus he's tall and very attractive.”

Spencer wants to scream something along the lines of 'I'm 6'1, I have three PhDs, you've told me I'm handsome after you held my hair up while I puked after drinking far too much, and I'm so goddamn in love with you,' but he can barely admit the last fact to himself.

"So he's got brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes?" Spencer teases her, and she rolls her eyes. That dumb eidetic memory would never let him forget the descriptors she'd given him, and his cocky attitude would never stop mentioning it. "It's not your fault you have a type. Scientifically-"

"Shh." She requests, pressing her finger to his lips.

Without thinking about it, like it was second nature, Spencer purses his lips and kisses her skin. After letting it linger for a moment, she takes it away and turns back to what she's doing.

Again, he draws her attention back to him, cupping the cheek furthest away from him and turning her face to look at him. Once she is, eyes locked on his, he holds her other cheek. He steps forward so that he's so close to her that her breath gets trapped in her throat.

Those fingers on her skin make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling, and her heart starts to thump in her chest when she sneaks a glance at those beautiful veins. Maybe her skin is hot or maybe his fingers are just cold but the contrast sends shivers all over her. It's hard not to think about all the times they've been inside her or how they look wrapped around his cock as he lines himself up with her sex.

"Y/n, if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god." He says threateningly, and it would worry her if she didn't know him so well and if it wasn't so hot.

"You don't believe in god." She calls him out, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"I can find anyone, anywhere." She can't debate that. "And if he lays a hand on you, I'll kill him or put him in jail for the rest of his life. Your choice."

He's acting like he's doing her a favor, letting her decide how he'll hurt someone who hurts her. It's an odd declaration to be making, contradictory to every bit of his sweet nature, and she doesn't hate it.

"What if I ask- beg for it?" She questions him.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that." He's really not.

He would do immoral things that would make him lose his job and even go to jail if someone hurt her, but the deep feelings he's disgusting as an overprotective bravado against someone assaulting her is really just because he can't stand the thought of someone else being with her.

He's not worried about it sexually. She might be anticipating not being home for the night, but she's not the type to ask a first date to get rough with her. What's got him on edge is her being someone else's emotionally. They might be telling everyone they're not together, but if her heart belongs to someone else, there's no chance of him getting her back, and that's all he wants.

His lips are so close that she could kiss him, but the magnetism makes it challenging to resist. She yearns for the feeling of warm lips against hers, more specifically, the pretty pink ones she's peeking at.

They've had slips before. It's been three weeks since their last one. Every time, she swears she won't do it again, but she's ready to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the kitchen.

She's daring him to make that dangerous leap, and he's about to.

The cries of a woken-up one-year-old through the baby monitor snap them back into a harsh reality before their lips can touch. They both wonder if it's horrid that they forgot why he's there. Spencer lingers for a moment with her face in his hands before he breaks away from her painfully.

"I'll go." He says, leaving her standing there stunned with cheeks hot and a pounding heart.

She has a moment to recover, but it's not enough, and soon Spencer's back in the room with the sweetest baby in his arms. She's giggling, clinging to her dad, who she loves dearly. If Y/n didn't love Beatrice wholeheartedly, she'd be jealous she wasn't enough for Spencer to spend time with. But she can't be. Not when Bea has the greatest dad in the entire world, and she deserves every inch of his love.

"Kiss momma." Spencer directs, holding her up to Y/n's cheek.

She plants a kiss that's mostly saliva on her mom, and despite how messy it is, it makes Y/n grin. "How'd you sleep, baby?" She asks, knowing they'll be no reply. Her vocabulary is limited to three words: mom, dad, and love.

"Not so well last night," Spencer answers like it was intended for him.

He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sitting Bea in his lap. "Spencer," Y/n warns, glaring at him.

"Your mom's mad at me." He stage-whispers to Bea. "I never know why."

"Should we start with lying to a child?" She wonders, but it's playful, not insulting. "Add in some pesky comments."

Spencer pouts, holding Bea up so she can see it and copy her father. "Oh, she loves them." He assures her. "And I love you. So much."

Y/n smiles in adoration. He might be difficult to be in love with, but he's the best dad ever. Spencer catches her staring, it's pretty obvious when the bowl of cookie dough sits abandoned on the counter.

"You look so similar." She says, trying to prevent the awkward since and slightly too romantic looks.

"Need another one to look like you?" He jokes, or maybe it's an offer. She can't really tell.

She scoffs, shaking her head. "I'm alright, thanks."

"But she's so perfect." He coos, her entire hand holding his pinky finger. "How could you not want another one?"

She chuckles at his baby fever. It is practically impossible to not want another child when theirs is so incredible, but they're only masochistic towards each other.

"Don't go getting random girls pregnant, Spencer." She jokingly advises him.

“I’m only ever going to get one girl pregnant.” He tells her.

He’s messy. In fact, they’re messy together, and he can’t keep his dick in his pants, but it’s not a problem he has with anyone else.

"That's possibly very nice." She says, frowning as she tries to figure him out.

"You're lucky." He rephrases.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're lucky I don't kick you out now."

"Whoa, I get it." He teases. "It's someone's time to get lucky, hang a sock on the door and all that."

"I highly doubt you got any in college." She reminds him.

"Or now." He adds.

It should be weird. Who casually discusses sex with an ex?

"Yeah, I noticed one of your hands seems stronger than the other." She quips, although there's no discernable difference. They're both equally delicious.

"Mm, reminds me, I need more lotion." He mentions, playing along with the joke. "Vanilla, right?"

She fake-gags. "That's literally disgusting." She chides. "Do not go and get the same lotion I have to jack off."

He shrugs casually. "It's a free country."

"You're disturbing." She reiterates, reminding herself he said it to get her flustered.

"Don't flirt with me like that, or I might start thinking you like me." He warns, fluttering his eyelids at her.

She does feel like she's falling in love all over again with him when it's all flirting and comfortable.

"You'd be begging if I was flirting." She assures him, and it's true. Spencer begs like no one else.

"Alright, I think that's time to go." He decides, clicking his tongue and looking at Bea again. "Your mom's too into me for her own good."

That is hitting the nail on the head. She's into him and she always will be, but it's not wise, and it compromises her self-respect time and time again.

He gets up, bouncing Bea on his hip and walking around the bench. She leans forward to kiss her happy baby before playing with her soft hair. "Just admit you lost, Spencer." She tells him.

A little grin lights up his features as he refuses to comply with her directions. "I never lose." Oh, except for his one true chance at happiness and a family with the most remarkable woman in the world.

"Those beautiful big brains." She coos, moving her hand to his hair to part his curls properly.

"I'm sure yours are equally, if not more, beautiful." He says, once again making her stomach slip with the eye contact. "Smaller of course."

She scoffs out a laugh. "Bye." She says. "Her bag's in the hall."

"When do you want her back?" Spencer asks, holding the baby up so her cheeks can be kissed an obscene amount of time.

Their custody arrangement is nonexistent. With Spencer's hectic schedule and their good relationship, there's never been a need to make it official. Bea's always his priority when he's in the District, and that keeps Y/n happy.

Not fully happy. She'd like to see Bea, and her dad, every day, and she's too far from that with the latter Reid to ever be completely satisfied with her life. Months later, she's still convincing herself she can one day not look at him and wish for something unrealistic.

"Whenever." She says. They start walking towards the front door, slowly, both lingering and dragging it out. "If you need to go, you can bring her back."

"If you're in the middle of a date?" He wonders cheekily, grabbing Bea's bag from the floor.

She glares at him, not finished with her sentence. "Otherwise, I'll text you."

"Call." He insists. "We're not texting people."

"Fine." She agrees, swinging open the door. She takes Bea into her arms, giving her a tight hug. "Love you, sweet baby."

"Mom, love," Bea mumbles back, placing her hands on Y/n's cheeks.

Spencer gets the sinking feeling in his chest that he always gets leaving, but it's worse when he's taking Bea, who's Y/n's entire world. It makes him feel nauseating amounts of guilt. How can he be okay with putting her through the loneliness of a house that big being empty?

He smiles at her as he takes Bea back. "Thank you."

She not sure what for and she doesn't have a chance to ask before he's walking out the door, strapping Bea in her car seat. She waves at her mom, looking as happy as always.

Spencer stops before he gets in his seat. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" She asks, straightening up her posture.

She's hoping he'll say what she wants to hear, although she doesn't know what that is. A Spencer fact would keep things simple, but saying something about how they can get back on track, that she shouldn't go out tonight, would ruin their carefully stacked house of cards.

"He's a lucky guy." He says, and it kills him to know that it used to be him taking her out, watching her grin from across the table, making her laugh until she's begging him to stop, driving home with his hand on her thigh, watching her take off her makeup and become more beautiful, and ending up cuddling in bed, their baby just a room over.

And he can't ever have that again, not with her, and he can't fathom it with someone else.

Y/n goes back inside once he's driven away, hoping for once, after he leaves, that she can not think about him.

It doesn't work. As always, she's stuck thinking about Spencer.

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