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#but like. she'd. 'gotten used' to them
commsroom · 2 years
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i love to think about the ways eiffel is willing/able to take up physical space for hera when she can’t. i think... with eiffel and hera and minkowski staying together post-canon, one thing that might start to really bother hera is that, like. she doesn’t have any stuff. she doesn’t even have herself to be there in the house, really, not physically. and unlike with the hephaestus, a house that is actually meant to be a home, a place that is designed for human life, is always full of reminders of the people who live there. so i want to think that she expresses this to eiffel and he starts picking up stuff he thinks she’ll like just to put it on the shelves and around the house, so it’s her house too. and she thinks it’s kind of silly at first because it’s not like she can really interact with most of it, but. then she sees all of her stuff mixed together with eiffel’s on the shelves and it’s like this constant reminder that she exists in the world, that she has an impact on it and a place in it. and that does make her feel a little better.
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mythvoiced · 2 years
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-. The Tanuki
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Fujiwara Yoshino | 21 | She/her
BABY! But don’t treat her like one or she’ll bite you~! A middle child amongst a bunch of children, Yoshino is a free-spirit seemingly intent on re-inventing that descriptive and making it her own, she will literally jump out the window and disappear in tanuki-form in the forest surrounding her house to not be forced to learn about the intricacies of her family’s role in the supernatural community of this particular area of the Tokyo prefecture because she argues life is simply about much more than meetings and dishonest get-togethers. Frankly, might just be an excuse, because she simply cannot stay inside for long or she’ll lose her mind. How she managed to stick to her job is beyond me, but she was bound to eventually settle down somehow in some capacity or the other.
TW: n/a Tags below ♥
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i keep having weird horror game nightmares
#one time i had a nightmare where i downloaded an app that put you in a randomized game during the nighttime. and you you couldn't delete it#without doing a ton of steps#and all of the games had different rules that you had to pay attention to or youd die. especially for ones with creatures in them#the last one i remembered had this thing that couldn't kill you as long as you were hidden and it didn't know and i was so terrified. i was#trying to delete the app forever but it tried to trick you into allowing the games to go on even if you deleted it. and once you did you#couldn't redownload it to get yourself out properly. i ended up being able to do it but i couldn't sleep the rest of the night because it#felt so real and i wasnt sure i had actually gotten out#and then yesterday night i had a dream i was selected by this weirdly religious like. 8 armed ball robot along with a group of other people#and it brought us to this house and it was fine for a bit but then things started happening and there ware rules. and there was another kid#there with me in this room and we had to hide under a blanket or else something would get you. and then it evolved so you also had to copy#the sound pattern it was making. but for that one there was also a different girl there was was definitely part of the house that i didn't#trust. and then there was this other thing where if you weren't tucked in this tall lady would eat you. and i was barely tucked in because#she came out of nowhere and i thought i was going to die but by some weird glitch it registered as tucked. but she leaned over me and tucke#me in properly and i was so sure she was going to kill me and she'd be all up close doing it. and i had this feeling constantly that the#robot was still around out there watching and it terrified me more than anything else#the last thing i remember from that wad waiting for the tall lady to make her rounds again but i woke up. and like again i wasnt all that#sure it didn't happen and then my mom checked up on me and it freaked me out dhfhdjsjkd#anyway i dont like dreaming#personal posts and stuff idk
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her
"I'm not a tyrant," Spencer's voice is inexhaustibly patient, and his fingers are slightly awkward as he holds them around his phone, angling it awkwardly so that you can see his upper half on face-time while he sits at his desk, "I just want you to take your medicine so that you can get better."
"I am better," You insist, your voice a far cry from its usual drawl. It's more ragged and weak, and you definitely have a stuffy nose, which indicates how untruthful your words are. Everyone knows it, most of the bullpen can hear your insistent griping, and they're beginning to feel bad for Spencer. They can't imagine how he'd gotten you to stay home today, but they're shooting each other knowing grins each time you push back against his gentle insistence.
"No, angel, you're not." Spencer croons, "You're on the mend, but you're not recovered yet. And you'll get worse if you don't take your meds. I put them on the nightstand for you, and some water. All you have to do is take them, and go back to sleep."
"I don't want to sleep!" You insist, and it's a whine- a whine! Emily's mouth splits in an incredulous grin, and a laugh threatens to tremble Derek's broad shoulders at how juvenile your attempts at protest have become. They're used to your biting words, your forceful demeanor, your inability to surrender any control, but Spencer's got you tucked into the covers begging for a kiss on the forehead.
"I've been sleeping all day, and I slept all day yesterday, and the day before that. I'm tired of sleeping. Just let me fill out some paperwork! Anything, Spence, please."
He chews on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way that JJ giggles suspiciously with Penelope, who's leaning against the side of her desk, drawn out of her office for the spectacle.
"You can read," He relents, "And you can watch tv but only if you do it on your computer with the night light setting turned on," He narrows his eyes, taking on your rather rough persona to ensure that his orders are obeyed, "Promise?"
"Promise," You rasp, and the team can hear the smile in your voice, "Thanks, Spencer."
"Use the night light setting," He warns instead of accepting your thanks, "I'll check later to see if it's turned on!"
"Okay!" You laugh, and Spencer winces lightly as the sound morphs into a thick cough, "Okay, I'll- ah, I'll see you later, baby."
"See you later," He concedes with a fond smile, waving in addition to his verbal goodbyes, "Love you."
"Love you too," You promise, then end the call. Spencer feels the weight of everyone else's stares on him as he sets his seldom-used phone down and resumes working, refusing to acknowledge them unless they prod at him first.
"Good job, Spence," JJ congratulates, "I didn't think she'd ever take a sick day."
"I know," Emily gushes with bright eyes and a wild smile, "If I tried to tuck her in she'd probably bite me."
"Well, that's 'cause you don't have Pretty Boy's charm," Derek cracks, though the smile that he flashes Prentiss is reassurance that he's teasing Spencer more than he's teasing her, "Congrats on wearing the pants today, Reid. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause as soon as she's out of bed, she's taking the wheel again."
Spencer takes great pleasure in levelling Derek with a meaningful, "Shut up," because he's more than happy to be your passenger princess any day.
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k1rishiki · 1 year
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my cousin started bawling her eyes out today bc she received a turkey carving knife that was older than i am when she was expecting some nora fleming stuff
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finelinefae · 1 month
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rose [tattooH x innocenty/n]
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synopsis: Harry's a tattoo artist who can't figure out the best way to say how in love he is with the flower shop owner next door
word count: 10.5k
content warnings: smut (first time oral f recieving, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N), brief mentions of violence
read part 1 here
this is a lot !! like a lot happens !! also everyone smiles a lot,, i can't help it they're happy
. . .
Harry had come to the conclusion that of all the things he had had to do in his twenty-six years of life - all the things he had to do and say to get where he was today - saying I love you to his girlfriend was proving to be one of the most intricate tasks he had encountered.
And it wasn't because he didn't love her. From the moment she stepped into his tattoo shop with determination and fear all intertwined into one expression right up until now, he was pretty sure his relationship with Y/N was the physical embodiment of what it meant to be loved and to love in return.
He had learnt so much about the sweet, pretty girl next door. From her little habits and small quirks that she didn't think he ever noticed.
Y/N loved wearing Harry's clothes. He had bought a new band tee from an online shop one of his friends had recommended to him. When the parcel hadn't arrived on time, he wondered if it had gotten lost in transit or they'd delivered it to the wrong address. He had emailed them once or twice to see its whereabouts only to find the Fleetwood Mac t-shirt on the body of his girlfriend asleep on his sofa when he came home from work. "But Harry, they're so soft and comfy!" She argued when he accused her the next morning. "Know that baby but I need clothes to wear." He was trying not to smile and pinch her cheeks when he caught a glimpse of her pouty lips. "But Harry-" He couldn't help but interrupt her with a quick kiss to her lips, "Can use some of my old shirts flower, y' can pick them out. C'mon sweet girl," He led her to his wardrobe and let her scramble through the box of his old shirts.
She loved being praised. Harry thought it was the cutest thing ever when he'd compliment her or tell her how good she was for him and her cheeks would turn a dusky pink colour. He'd often find himself kissing the crescent moon-shaped dimples on her cheeks whenever she'd beam up at him after he mumbled sweet praises into her ear, "M' good girl," He'd say, "Best girl, m' favourite flower."
She loved physical touch from him and him only. His favourite time of day was coming home after a busy day of working and finding his darling girl sitting up in bed, either reading or watching TV, waiting for him in his favourite soft, satin pyjamas she wears (he loved the feel of them under his hands whenever he held her). She'd make grabby hands for him as soon as she saw him walk through the door of her bedroom, wanting to touch him almost immediately. He'd kiss her a few times, run his fingers through her hair, stroke her cheek and brush his fingers over her arm. Even when they were walking through the streets of the town, Y/N would often cling to Harry - feeling anxious being around too many people. He'd comfort her with soothing touches, rubbing circles on the pulse point on her wrist to make sure she was okay.
There were so many things Harry had come to adore about his favourite girl in the entire world. From the way she'd look at him with big rounded eyes as though he hung up the moon and stars in the sky or knew the answer to everything she asked, to the way she'd melt under his touch whenever they'd do something even slightly intimate. He was so in love... He just didn't know how to tell her that.
Harry had never been in a serious relationship before so the idea of love didn't come easy to him. He had spent the majority of his life believing he was destined to be lonely, finding himself in one-night stands and never getting past the first date for lack of connection. He didn't know what romantic love looked like, felt like or even if it existed at all until he met his favourite flower. 
Moments would crop up where he could feel the first syllable spike the tip of his tongue but invisible hands wrapped themself around his neck as he tried to let the words out. Y/N would sit patiently, waiting for him to continue speaking, but he'd just end up kissing her, hoping he could communicate his words without saying them.
He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when it came to saying those three simple words, words that carried so much weight between them. Maybe it was because he wanted the moment to be special and memorable for her, so he waited for the perfect opportunity to confess. But the anticipation was driving him a bit crazy.
It was very early Wednesday morning. Y/N was cutting up sheets of tissue paper since it was nearing winter and people would be out buying gifts soon for their loved ones. She had ordered a bunch of new seed packets and planned to make little gift sets to sell.
Harry was sitting at the workshop table in the middle of the shop. He was wearing his shorts and a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. He wore his worn-out, white Vans as if they were slippers, with the left shoe dangling precariously from his toes, threatening to slide off at any moment. His tired eyes tried to remain focused on counting the coins for Y/N's till since she always miscalculated and would have to go visit him for more money even though his shop was cashless which he reminded her every time as he slipped her a five-pound note from his own back pocket.
The shop was silent in the early hours of the morning as the two worked separately. Y/N enjoyed that she didn't constantly have to make conversation with her boyfriend for him to be interested. They were happy to just be in each other's company for as long as possible.
"Baby," Harry's raspy voice broke the comfortable silence between them. Y/N's head lifted naturally in response, "C'mere." He opened his arm out but his eyes were still trained on counting the coins.
Y/N smiled tiredly and walked over to him, tucking herself into his side and holding onto the arm that wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head, "Didn't get to hold y' this morning, left me cold." He murmured against her.
"M sorry, H. It's always stressful when the season changes." She sighed, thinking about all the work she still had yet to do before autumn passed.
"S okay, just missed you is all." He hummed. Y/N turned herself so she was pressed against the worktop and looking up at him. She loved every version of Harry at all times of day but something about Harry in the morning made her swoon. He was so soft and cuddly, needy and grabby, she'd always have to pry his hands off of her in the morning so she could get to work on time.
Y/N grinned and leaned her head forward, past the hood of his sweatshirt, to kiss him. "Wanted to ask you if y’ would come on a date with me this Saturday.” He whispered, eyes still closed from kissing her.
Every eight weeks, Y/N’s shop would close for the entire weekend. Since her shop was open most days, she wanted to give herself at least some time off to look forward to. Harry knew that particular weekend was coming up because of how much she was looking forward to it so he made sure to free up his weekend too so he could take her out for the day. 
They had been on dinner dates and done a few other things here and there but there was only so much they could do in their small town. So as soon as he thought of the idea, he booked train tickets to take Y/N to the coast for the day. 
“Hmmm,” Y/N sighed, reaching into his hood to wrap her arms around his neck, his skin warm against her touch. “Where would we go?”
“S a surprise,” He whispered into her ear, his breath warm. 
“I’d love to go on a date with you Harry,” She replied, voice soft. 
“Yeah? It’ll be cold so you’ll need to wear a sweater.” He told her. 
"I only own sweaters," She rolled her eyes, pushing away from him so she could get back to work.
"Yeah, my sweaters." Harry teased.
Y/N narrowed her eyes, "Get back to counting those coins or you'll be fired."
"Yes ma'am," He couldn't stop smiling to himself as he carried on counting each penny.
. . .
The small train was busy on the way to the coast on Saturday morning but luckily they had managed to grab two seats next to each other by the window. Y/N insisted that they listened to one of the very many playlists she had curated for them both to listen to. It wasn’t long into their relationship that Harry had come to realise that music was one of Y/N’s love languages. 
He remembered when he first moved in and heard her music through the walls of her apartment as he bought his food shopping up the stairs his first night. The music played well into the night and he had planned to knock on her door and ask her to turn it down like she had done to him the day they had first met, but his ears caught onto her singing. He pressed his ear up against the door and listened as she sang to herself whilst dishes clinked together. She wasn’t the best singer he had ever heard but something about her soft voice soothed him, so he turned around and went about his night with the girl singing next door. 
Y/N pulled out her wired earbuds not long after they’d sat down and gave one of them to Harry. After Hours by The Velvet Underground started playing and Harry smiled to himself as he watched Y/N gaze out the window of the train. He reached for her hand which was covered by her fingerless gloves she had crocheted herself and intertwined their fingers together. 
The train pulled into the final station an hour later. Harry held tightly onto Y/N as people bustled to get on and off the train at the same time. The weather wasn’t perfect when they had arrived - slightly overcast and grey - but it didn’t stop Y/N from gasping at the sight of the ocean in front of her. 
“Harry look!” She pointed as the waves rolled into the shore. She looked adorable in her white hat and earmuffs, her white puffer coat made her look like a giant marshmallow. She was almost matching Harry, in his black puffer coat and green bobble hat. 
“Y/N! Slow down baby,” He called for her as he ran to catch up with her. 
They walked down the steps and onto the beach which was practically void of any people other than a few dog walkers. He was thankful he had told her to wear a thick coat since the wind was bitter and cold. Harry’s smile was so wide, that his dimples pierced each one of his cheeks as he watched her run around in her UGG boots and leggings. 
“Beautiful,” Harry whispered, hoping the words would get caught in the wind and blow straight to her so she could hear them. 
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sea,” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh sea air. Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. 
They walked side by side with each other. Harry held Y/N’s hand inside the pocket of his coat and every once in a while, she would stop to pick up a shell which she would pass to him to put in his other coat pocket. At some point, it started to drizzle down with rain but they carried on walking and talking along the beach. 
Harry would watch as Y/N ran up to the sea to pick up bits of sea glass and try to not get caught by the water. She looked adorable as she ran up the beach looking back at him with her woolly hat and giant coat swamping her. Strands of hair stuck to her damp, rosy cheeks as rain dripped from her coat since they had been out so long. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her as she crouched down to look at something she’d found in the sand. He made a mental note to share it on everything he possibly could so everyone in his life would know how much he loved her, even if she didn’t know just yet. 
Harry swore he was going to tell her he was in love with her right there and then but his heart fell out of his chest when he watched her trip and stumble back onto the sand. “Y/N,” He rushed over, immediately wanting to check if she was okay, only to be met with her giggling and laying back on the sand like a starfish on land. 
“Lay here with me,” She patted the spot next to her. 
The last thing Harry wanted to do was get his new black trousers wet and dirty from the sand but he would do anything and everything she asked him to do so he fell onto the sand and laid right next to her. 
His pinky finger hooked with hers as they both looked up at the sky, “Are you happy flower?” He asked.
“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life,” She confesses and the words make Harry’s heart grow ten times the size. “I think spending time with you is when I’m the happiest Harry.”
When it reached past midday, Harry took Y/N to grab something to eat before they had to take the train home again. Their coats were dripping when they stepped inside the small cafe Harry had picked out for them. The kind owner had even offered to dry them both for them before they had to leave again. 
“Harry,” She gasped, “They do blueberry pancakes!” 
Harry smirked, not wanting to tell her that he had picked this cafe specifically because they made one of Y/N’s favourite foods, “Really? Tha’s your favourite right baby?”
She nods, “I’m gonna get that- ooo it even comes with the option of honey or syrup!” Y/N beams. 
By the time their food had arrived, they were well invested in conversation, “Was thinking of getting my ear pierced next weekend. One of my mates has free space and thought it would be fun to get a hoop or something.” Harry tells her. 
Y/N paused on chewing her pancake as she pictured her boyfriend with a hoop earring. She swallowed down her food before getting out, “That would be hot.”
Harry laughs at her bluntness, “Yeah?” He smirked, “You think so?” Y/N nodded, her cheeks tinged pink. 
Although they kissed and made out at any spare moment they could, they hadn’t really branched out from the time Harry had touched her for the first time. Y/N knew Harry was trying to be patient about it - he was a gentleman like that - but she was going crazy not having his ring-clad hands touching her skin, providing that ecstasy he had given her a glimpse of for the first time.  
“Y alright there flower?” Harry crooned, “Anything on your mind you’d care to share.”
Y/N shook her head, ridding them of her dirty thoughts, “M okay, H.” 
“Alright,” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, “You look beautiful by the way.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Her eyes softened, “And thank you for bringing me here today, I’ve loved being here with you.”
Harry parted his lips as if to respond, but found himself speechless, the words trapped somewhere in his throat. Y/N looked at him expectantly, her eyes silently urging him to express whatever was on his mind. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped, and he finally spoke, "I've loved being here with you too. I love every moment I get to be with you." Y/N beamed as Harry inwardly cursed himself for being unable to articulate the depth of his feelings. Yet, as he saw the radiant smile spread across Y/N's face, he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and contentment wash over him, knowing that his words were enough to reach her for now. 
After the train journey home, which took slightly longer than anticipated, Harry carried Y/N up to her apartment and into her bedroom where he slumped her down on her bed. Y/N hummed at the feeling of her warm, cosy sheets beneath her. “Comfy m’love?” He grinned, tugging the sleeves of his coat off so he was just in his white t-shirt and black trousers. 
“I’m so sleepy,” Y/N sighed, eyes closed whilst Harry tugged her shoes off as her feet dangled over the edge of the bed.
“Cause you’ve been running around all day huh? Could barely keep up with you half the time.” Harry briefly massages the souls of her feet after taking both her shoes off, knowing they were probably aching from running on the beach all day.
“But it was sooo much fun,” Y/N whined, her tired eyes peering down at Harry.
“Yeah, yeah, I know that lovie. Need to get y’ out of these clothes so I can put them in the wash.” He tugs on her leggings.
“Can you do it?” Y/N asks, “M too tired.”
Harry pauses, “Y’ sure baby? Don’t want y’ to be uncomfortable.” 
“M sure Harry, I trust you.” She tells him.
He smiles to himself as her words settle in the space between them. A smile curves his lips almost involuntarily, reflecting the quiet gratitude he feels towards her trust.  “Alright, lift y’ hips for me, flower.” He instructs and Y/N does as she’s told, lifting her hips so he can pull down her leggings leaving her in her pink lacey panties. 
Harry swallows as he sees the apex of her thighs. He hadn’t seen this much of her before and he could already feel himself harden in his jeans at the sight of her. “Think y’ can sit up for me flower? Jus’ so I can’t take your sweater off?” He tries to stop staring at her bare legs but he can’t seem to take his eyes away.
Y/N groans but does as she’s told, sitting up and putting her arms up so Harry can remove the sweater from her torso. Her eyes are still shut and Harry gently pulls the soft sweater over her head. 
When her eyes open, the first thing Y/N sees is Harry standing above her with his gaze fixed on her figure and she realizes this is the most he's ever seen of her yet. She had nothing but a vest and underwear to cover her body. Y/N was pretty sure he could see the curve of her breasts and the outline of her nipples through the thin, white material. 
“Harry…” she whispers, suddenly realising what was happening, how the temperature in the room had suddenly shifted.
Y/N shivered as Harry cupped her cheek and bent forward to kiss her. She leaned backwards onto the bed, resting on her elbows as Harry kept his hold on her cheek, using his other hand to place on her hip as he crawled on top of her. His hand was warm and big and his fingertips pressed into her skin sending a joint of electricity down through her body. 
They kissed and Harry groaned as Y/N uncontrollably rolled her hips into him, “Harry,” Y/N repeated, placing her hands on his chest.
“What baby?” He asks.
“I-I feel strange,” She confesses, not really knowing how to go about telling him what was on her mind.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”
Y/N shook her head immediately, “N-no nothing’s wrong. It’s just… Remember last time? When you…” she couldn’t seem to finish her sentence, too embarrassed to describe what Harry had done when he taught her how to touch herself.
“What about it?” He wonders, patience and curiosity on his face.
“I-I want to do it again but different.” She cringed at her words, “I mean, I want to try something new. L-like I want you to show me something new I mean.” 
Harry’s features softened, “Yeah? You want me to take care of you huh?”
Y/N nodded, relieved he understood what she was hinting at without her having to admit it herself, “Yes.”
“What do you want me to do baby?” He kisses down the side of her neck, Y/N’s head rolling to the side to give him more room to explore her skin.
“I-I don’t know,” 
“Oh I think you do flower otherwise you wouldn’t be asking for something new to try would you?” He sucks on the skin of her neck and she whines at the feeling. His green eyes meet hers as he lifts his head up, “C’mon sweet girl, tell daddy what you want from him.” 
Her mouth fell open and her heart beat erratically in her chest, “I-I need you down there daddy.” 
“Yeah? You want daddy to touch you down there baby?” 
“Y-yes daddy please.”
“Still so polite.” Y/N seemed to melt as he crawled down her placid form, he could do anything to her and she wouldn't mind as long as he was touching her in some way.
She suddenly gasped when she felt him blow warm air onto her nipple beneath her vest. “Can I lift your vest baby? Can you let daddy see these cute tits?” 
“Mhm,” She hummed, her body vibrating with excitement and nerves. Harry’s fingertips brushed the skin of her tummy as he pulled her vest up to reveal her breasts. 
“Fuck baby,” Harry groaned. “You’re so beautiful.” 
“Your shirt too!” Y/N insisted, feeling a little insecure as Harry was still in his white shirt.
Harry was quick to pull off his shirt to reveal his tattooed torso that Y/N had traced and slept on almost every night since they had met. Her hands were immediately on his warm skin as he kissed down the swell of her breasts. Y/N gasped as Harry gently pressed a kiss to her left nipple, sliding his other hand up to cup her other one, “See that? Y’ were made for daddy.” He said as her breast fit perfectly in his hand. 
“Daddy I need you,” Y/N whispered.
“Such a greedy girl.” He tuts, “Trying to worship you ‘n you’re just begging me to make you cum.” 
“N-no-” Y/N wanted to argue but Harry quickly kissed her lips before moving down her body. 
“Look at these pretty panties. Can already see you’re all soaked through them.” Y/N could practically hear the smile on his face. “Can I see baby?” 
“Y-Yes, daddy.” She swallowed back her nerves, even though Harry had already seen her down there, it was her first time experiencing someone be so up close. Y/N felt his fingers hook around the waistband of her panties until they were halfway down her thighs and waited for him to react.
“Fuck me,” Harry hisses. “Won’t ever get over the sight of this pretty pussy. Always manage to live up to y’ nickname, don’t y’ flower?” 
Y/N’s cheeks heat but before she has time to protest Harry leans forward and presses a kiss to her throbbing pussy. She snaps her thighs shut tightly and gasps, “W-what-“
“Shhh flower,” Harry kisses her knee and then gently hooks both her legs over either of his shoulders so she can’t close her thighs to hide away from him, “Daddy’s gonna take the ache away okay? Know you’ve been feeling all needy for daddy. Gonna do something that’ll help and put you right to sleep m’kay?”
Y/N swallows harshly and fists the fabric of the blanket beneath her. Her heart was racing and her belly was swirling with need and desire as she waited for Harry to do something.
He kissed the inside of her thighs, “You trust me?” He asked, waiting for her approval, “Because I’ll stop as soon as you say so, promise y’ that.” 
“Yes, daddy.” She said because she did trust him, wholeheartedly, “I trust you.”
“That’s m’ girl.” Y/N waited until she felt his warm breath blow over her pussy. His mouth pressed another kiss to her before she felt his tongue swipe across her slit. Y/N gasped at the unfamiliarity of it as he flicked his tongue softly over her to get her accustomed to it. His eyes looked up to see Y/N’s reaction at the first touch of his mouth. He smirked to himself as her breasts heaved cutely and her cheeks were flushed pink. 
“Harry,” she whimpered.
“S not my name flower.” He murmured against her. 
She tried to close her thighs but Harry’s head lay buried between them, licking and stroking his tongue against her. He wrapped both his tattooed hands around her thighs to keep them open, pressing his fingertips into her plushy skin. “Daddy,” she whined.
He licks up her wet cunt once more until he finds her clit. Y/N jolts at the sudden attention to her sensitive bundle of nerves. His lips pucker against her tiny, pink clit glistening with arousal, a whimper eliciting from Y/N’s lip. He moves his tongue in circles around it before gently sucking on the small bud.
Y/N’s a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him as he licks and sucks on her clit, her wetness coating his chin. She bucks her hips against his mouth and quickly removes one hand from the bed to weave into his hair. Harry groans as she tugs on his curls, his cock leaking precum in his trousers, the vibrations going straight to Y/N’s clit. 
“Daddy, f-feels so good,” She mewls, continuing to tug on his hair. Harry ruts his hips against the mattress, in hopes he could get some relief as he continues his assault on her pussy. 
“Y' so fucking sexy Y/N.” He grumbled, unable to stop his attention from her weeping, little cunt.
Her thighs began to tremble as she felt the coil tighten in her belly. Harry’s hand removed itself from her thigh and slid up the bed to reach for her hand that wasn’t already in his hair. He intertwined their fingers as if comforting her without saying anything. 
He paused his assault on her clit, Y/N whimpering at the sudden loss. Instead, he flattened his tongue against her once more before dipping his tongue into her hole a little as if testing the waters to see whether she’d like it. Y/N’s back arched and Harry’s hand left hers to place itself flat against her tummy to hold her still, the cool metal of his rings made her shiver as they touched her skin. His tongue delved in and out of her, using his other hand to rub circles on her clit with his thumb.
Y/N’s mouth fell open, her head fell back and her legs turned to jelly. “Y close angel girl?” Harry murmured, peeking up at her to see her blissfully zoned out from his touch. 
“Feels s’ good daddy, s-so so so good,” She babbled her head lolling from side to side. 
“Wanna cum baby? Wanna make a mess on daddy?” He urged her, feeling her core clench. 
She jerkily nodded, “Mhmmm,” She hummed. 
“Lemme have it, baby, daddy worked so hard, lemme taste y’ cum.” He hastened his movements on her clit and continued to lick and suck at her pussy, “Cum f’ me baby.” He coaxed. "Can't wait to feel y' round my cock someday, practically begging to feel y' tight, little hole. 'm gonna be the first and only one to fill y' up, isn't that right? Gonna let daddy stretch you out and fill y' up. You're all mine, 'm favourite flower."
His filthy words set Y/N alight. She felt the coil snap as pleasure rushed through her entire body and filled all of her senses. Harry groaned, continuing to press himself up against the bed until he felt his own orgasm building too, his lips staying on Y/N as she came. He lapped up her juices, riding her through her orgasm and tasting all she had to offer for the first time. “That’s my girl baby, so good.” He cooed. 
Harry’s eyes rolled back as his cock released inside of his boxers, his head falling to the side and resting on the inside of her thigh as he breathed heavily, “Fuck,” He groaned, eyes rolling to the ceiling. 
The room was quiet other than the sounds of them trying to catch their breath. Harry kissed the inside of Y/N’s thigh and worked his way up her body, placing soft, spongy kisses on her bare skin until he was face-to-face with her. 
Harry grinned lazily, his eyes tired as he brushed the hair off her face. His heart stuttered; he felt himself losing his breath all over again despite having just come down from the high of his release as he looked down at his girlfriend. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin was glowing from the afterglow, tendrils of baby hairs framed her face and her eyes were hazy and soft as she looked into his own. 
“Thank you daddy,” She whispered to him. 
Harry pressed a kiss to her lips. Her legs hooked around his waist as he circled his arms around her to pull her in tighter, “You okay? Was that good? Not too much?” He wanted to make sure she was okay before anything else. He’d hate himself if he did something she didn’t like or didn’t want to do. 
“M okay,” She smiled, her voice tired. He kissed her once more knowing she could probably taste herself on his lips. “It felt good.” 
“Y’ made me cum,” He admits, feeling the discomfort of his own release in his boxers. 
“I did?” Y/N’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. 
“Yeah, flower. That was so fucking sexy.” Y/N whined and tried to hide herself behind her hands. Harry chuckled at her reaction, grabbing her wrists to move her hand away and kissing her forehead before lifting himself from her. “Let’s get y’cleaned up.” 
Harry walked over to Y/N’s dresser to grab himself some clean boxers from the drawer he had curated from the nights he had spent with her. He also grabbed her some clean underwear and one of his shirts to wear to bed. 
In the bathroom, he got himself cleaned up and grabbed a cloth dampening it under the running water in the sink for his love who was waiting for him in bed. Harry paused at the door when he entered her room after he was met with a sight he longed to treasure in his mind forever. Y/N was lying completely bare on her bed. Her eyes were shut, her chest moving up and down and her hair was sprawled out around her. He didn’t know how he got so lucky with her, she was a living angel.
“C’mere flower,” He murmured, spreading her legs apart slightly and trying not to react to the sticky, glistening mess between her thighs. He placed the dampened cloth against her and calmed her down as she jolted beneath his touch from how sensitive she was. 
Once they were all cleaned up, Harry climbed under the blankets with Y/N half asleep against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and ran a finger up and down the length of her spine beneath her shirt.  "Sleep now, flower," he whispered his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the night. The warmth of his presence soothed Y/N to fall asleep. 
In the hazy blur of her consciousness, she murmured, words slipping from her lips without thought. "Love you," she breathed, the three words escaping her lips as effortlessly as a sigh, yet she remained unaware of what they meant. 
Harry stilled, his breath catching in his throat, “W-what?” But Y/N didn’t reply, instead, soft snores left her lips as she fell asleep beside him. 
. . .
It was the Friday after Harry had taken Y/N to the beach. Fridays were always busy at the tattoo shop so Harry was working away until the late hours of the evening. Y/N sat on a chair, her legs swinging backwards and forward as she played a game on Harry's phone. The sound of the tattoo gun hummed in the air whilst a bossa nova played over the Bluetooth speaker. Harry was still working despite the fact it was nearly time for Y/N to go to bed (She had a strict regime before bed which gave her exactly eight hours of sleep each night). He had promised her this would be his last customer as she waltzed into his tattoo shop, ready to go to his apartment together.
Harry hadn't mentioned to Y/N what she had unknowingly said in her sleep. When they woke up the next morning, he gently broached the subject, asking, "Hey, do you remember anything you said last night while you were asleep?"
Y/N, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, just shrugged in response. "Not really," she mumbled, her voice heavy with drowsiness. "Did I say something strange?"
"No, not at all," Harry assured her, though inwardly, he couldn't shake off the weight of her words. "Just thought you might've had a dream or something." But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake off the lingering memory of her whispered confession, playing over and over in his mind like a sweet melody. 
"Y' holding up okay there m'love?" Harry checked in, working on the final few finishing touches of the tattoo he had been working on.
"Mhm," She smiled but Harry could tell she was getting sleepy from the way he'd caught her eyes fluttering shut when he glanced over at her.
"Can go sleep on the couch out front if you're feeling sleepy." He offered, wanting to make sure his girl was okay before he finished off the tattoo for his customer. He knew first-hand how grouchy she got when she didn't get her sleep.
"M okay here Harry," She insisted, thinking she was lying to him well enough over how tired she was. "Can I watch?" She strained her neck to get a better look at what Harry was doing.
"Course flower, c'mere," Harry pushed his chair forward to give Y/N space to stand behind him so she could watch over his shoulder. He pushed down on the peddle and continued the tattoo as Y/N watched over him.
"Does it hurt?" She wondered, watching the needle press ink into the customer's skin.
"Jus' a little sting but when you've had so many it's not so bad," Harry replied.
Y/N watched in fascination. She was not only impressed by the design Harry had drawn out and tattooed to the customer so effortlessly but also how brave people must be to have such a permanent mark on their skin. She tilted her head to the side, "I want one," She mumbled.
Harry paused, "What?"
"Nothing," She replied, quickly.
Harry had heard what she said but decided he'd bring it up when there wasn't another person in the room, knowing how shy she got around people she didn't know.
After completing the tattoo, he wrapped it up and chatted with the customer for a little bit. Meanwhile, Y/N browsed through his tattoo design sketchbook with a furrowed brow. Once the conversation was done, he shut the door behind the customer and turned the sign to 'closed.'
He walked over to his seemingly overthinking flower and kissed the top of her head, "Wha's wrong m'love?" He smiled softly, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her into his chest.
"Jus' looking H," She tilted her head back to look up at him, kissing his chin in the process.
"Didn't know we were telling fibs tonight flower," He teased, spinning her around in his embrace.
"M not lying," She hid her face in his chest because he always knew when she was lying and she was most definitely lying.
"Can you look up f'me baby just f' a sec," He murmured and looked down to see the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen, round and sparkling under the blue lights of his shop. "Woah," He whispered to himself.
"What's wrong?" A crease appeared in between her brows.
"Nothin' just...you're so pretty," She whined, nuzzling her face into his neck to hide her very red face. Even though it was hard to tell under the blue lights, he knew she was blushing. "Hey, no, can I have a kiss please?" He cupped the back of her head and pulled her away from the comfortable spot in his neck.
Y/N stood on her toes to kiss him, tasting the tinge of eucalyptus lip balm she had given him when he had complained of having sore lips from kissing her too much in the colder weather. "So y' want a tattoo?" He murmured against her lips.
Y/N pulled away, "I-I was just thinking but-"
"You're not sure?" She nods. "Don't have to get a tattoo today m'love, especially if you're not sure." Harry comforted her, seeing the uncertainty on her face. He kissed the crease between her eyebrows but her eyes were fixed on a tattoo on his upper arm.
"Where'd you get that?" She asked, her fingers skimming over the small design. It was a fine line drawing of a pair of angel wings with a flower in the centre between each wing. Harry had designed it not long after meeting Y/N and had only tattooed the design onto himself a few days ago.
"Jus' a little something I drew 's all." He shrugged, "Reminded me of you."
Y/N's lips parted like she couldn't believe what he had just said, "For me?"
He nods, "Wanted to have you somewhere on me at all times."
Y/N goes quiet and Harry gives her the time to think as he packs away his things to head upstairs. By the time he's finished, Y/N's tugging on his sleeve and looking up at him with rounded eyes, "I think I'd like a tattoo, Harry."
Harry bit back a smile, "You do?"
"Mhm," She nodded, seeming sure of herself, "But I want you to do it."
"Wouldn't let anyone else do it anyways flower." He pulled out the kit he had just put away, not feeling annoyed in the slightest because he loved this girl and would set up his equipment all over again even if she decided she no longer wanted the tattoo anymore.
Y/N shimmied up onto the chair and glanced over at him, "What are you wanting on you baby?" He asked.
"I want the same one as you please Harry," She says, referring to the tattoo of the angel wings.
He smiles, "Wanna match with me, sweet girl?" He kisses her lips quickly.
Y/N nods, beaming up at him, "Yes please."
"So polite," He taps her cheek before going to his worktop and drawing out a stencil with a careful hand.  Y/N sat in the chair with her feet hovering above the ground. She was fiddling with her fingers in her lap as she glanced around at the designs she had admired many times before when she'd sit and wait for Harry whilst he worked.
"M'kay lovie, where'd you want it?" Harry asked.
"Oh," She pursed her lips, "I didn't think that far."
"Didn't think that far?" Harry chortled, "How about on your arm?” He squeezed her arm softly above the crease of her elbow, "Won't hurt too bad if we do it here."
"Okay Harry," She nodded, trusting him implicitly. Harry wanted to smother her in kisses with the way she was looking at him like she would do anything he said without even questioning it.
Harry prepped everything, making sure he had all he needed to start the tattoo. He went a little slower than he normally would, wanting to give her enough time to make sure she was certain about getting the tattoo. He mixed up the ink and switched on the tattoo gun as Y/N lay back against the leather chair.
"Y' okay flower?" Harry checked again, expecting to get the same answer he had already gotten only for her to chew on her lip and scrunch up the fabric of the skirt she was wearing.
"M a little nervous," She admitted, blushing.
"Hey it's okay to be nervous," He cooed, dropping the equipment and rolling over to her on his chair. He leaned against the seat she was lying in so his face was up close to hers, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face and the feeling of his hands calmed the nerves Y/N was feeling. "It'll hurt a little bit. Some people say it feels like a little like a tiny scratch but you get used to the feeling."
"But what if you start and then I don't want it anymore because it hurts?" She realises she should have asked these questions before they had gotten this far.
"Tha's why you need to be sure you want it sweet girl. Don't wanna see you in pain either but it's a small tattoo so won't take long and it's on your arm which means it hurts a little bit less." Harry explained.
"Okay," She nodded, "B-but can you distract me a little? It'll help if you distract me."
Harry smiled, kissing her lips, "Can distract you any way you want, baby. Here," He removed the dog tag necklace he wore all the time without failure and handed it to her, "Can fiddle with this while I draw on you."
Y/N felt her shoulders relax a little as she felt the cool metal in her hands, "Okay Harry." His lips pressed against her forehead, "Okay Y/N." He grinned.
Harry pulled on some gloves and got the tattoo gun running. Y/N went stiff as the humming sound filled the room but she reminded herself of Harry's words and continued to play with his necklace. "Okay, ready baby?" He gave her one last kiss for comfort and then, when she nodded her head, the needle made contact with her skin.
She gasped as the tiny needle pricked at her skin. It wasn't as painful as she thought it was going to be but it wasn't comfortable either. She tried to relax but her muscles were all tensed up.
Harry tried to comfort her as best as she could. Whispering words of encouragement, "So good baby, y' so brave." He'd say and tell her it would be over in a moment even though a moment felt like an eternity in her mind.
"Is it over yet?" She was starting to feel the discomfort and was already waiting for it to finish.
"Almost angel," He cooed and finished up the final lines of the drawing. "There we go, all finished."
Y/N let out a long breath she didn't know she was holding and immediately her eyes flickered down to the tattoo Harry had drawn on her. She was in awe of how beautiful and intricate the design was and how quickly Harry had managed to draw it so perfectly. It was a perfect size on her arm, the angel wings matched exactly the same as the ones Harry had done on himself. She almost squealed with how happy she was with her first ever tattoo and how it was a permanent reminder of her sweet and loving boyfriend.
Harry grinned as he watched her face light up when she saw the tattoo, "'Y like it?" He asked, preparing the cream and wrap to put on it before she did something that would get it infected - they both knew she would do that if he wasn't careful.
"I love it, Harry!" She grinned, her smile lighting up the whole room.
Harry laughed at her happiness, "You're welcome baby." He applied the cream and wrapped it up before she could move anywhere. Instead of leaping out of the chair, she wrapped her arms around Harry and pressed her lips to his. He hummed, "Best tip I've ever gotten." He murmured.
"I kinda want another one," She couldn't stop looking down at her tattoo and taking in how pretty it was.
"Woah, slow down there flower, think you should wait a while until the next one." He repressed a smile. "But I'll happily draw up another one f'you."
"Okay Harry," She said, not really paying much attention to him.
"Alright c'mon, le's go upstairs. Wanna kiss you in bed if tha's okay." He quickly put all of his equipment away as Y/N gawked at her tattoo.
"I think I'd love that more than the tattoo," She sighed. Harry decided not to pull her up on the fact she was probably telling another fib. 
. . .
"Y/N is that a tattoo!" One of her friends, Shakira, spoke out.
It had been two weeks since Y/N had gotten her first tattoo and she still wasn't over how pretty it was. Every morning she'd wake up and look at her arm and tell Harry how good of a job he did.
"No wonder you're a tattoo artist Harry!" She'd say, to which he'd just smile and sit patiently as she rambled about how much she loved her tattoo and how she wanted him to draw her another one.
"Oh yes!" Y/N rolled up the sleeve of her pyjama shirt so her friends could get a better look, "Harry did it. Isn't it pretty?" She sighed, thinking of her boyfriend who she hadn't seen since this morning.
Y/N had planned a slumber party at her place a few weeks ago since she hadn't seen her two friends, Shakira and Layla, in forever. She'd known them since high school and were the only two friends she really had other than Harry who was also her best friend. 
Harry had promised he'd stay away and give her some much needed girly time. Although Y/N didn't like the idea of being away from Harry, she knew it was needed. He had some things he needed to do anyway and she wanted to give him space to do that too.
"Do you think he could do one for me?" Layla asked, her arm already littered with small tattoos.
"I can ask him for you if you'd like," Y/N offered, receiving a nod from Layla.
"What's it like being in a relationship?" Shakira asked, "I mean Harry seems the complete opposite of you, I'd never have pictured you together."
Y/N smiles, thinking back to their first interaction and how intimidated she was by him. Now she couldn't get enough of him, wanting to be with him and touch him whenever she could. "I know but Harry's... I don't know, he's not like how people assume. He's kind, caring and lovable. We have a lot more in common than most people think and even the things we don't have in common, Harry always listens to the things I have to say even when he doesn't completely understand."
"Awwww!" Y/N blushed when she realised she had been rambling too much again.
"You're so cute Y/N," Layla grinned. "And we're so happy for you. Harry seems like a great guy."
"He is," Y/N agreed, shyly.
"Have you said I love you yet?" Shakira smirked.
Y/N's smile faltered, "N-not yet..." She looked away from their gazes, "But I think I'm just waiting for the right time. Harry always has these moments where I think he's going to say it but he never does and part of me thinks he's still questioning it." Y/N admits.
Layla offers her a sympathetic gaze, "I'm sure he's just waiting for the perfect moment to tell you Y/N. Saying I love you can be a pretty big deal for some people."
"I know," Y/N nods in agreement, "And I'll wait for him, however long it takes."
Y/N spent the remainder of the evening gossiping and watching movies with her two best friends. Now and then, she would look down at her phone just in case Harry had sent her anything but nothing appeared other than a blank screen. She couldn't help but feel a little bit deflated that he hadn't checked in on her like he usually would but she quickly pushed the feeling away. Harry had other things he was doing, she'd see him later.
"Thank you for having us Y/N! It was so good to see you, we need to do it again sometime," Y/N stood at the door to say goodbye to her friends. It was nearing midnight and she wondered if Harry was in his apartment waiting for her.
"Thank you for coming! I missed you guys," Y/N chirped, she really did miss having her girlfriends around. She was so busy with work and spending time with Harry, that she rarely had time outside of those things. But after today, she was going to make it a priority to see her friends again.
"See you later Y/N!" Her friends waved as they walked down the steps from her apartment. Y/N smiled and waved until they were out of sight. She planned on calling Harry to check in on him and see if he was alright but a crash from his apartment halted her steps.
She paused, stilling herself so she could hear a little better. Another thud came from his apartment followed by a string of curses and something that sounded like a clutter of things falling on the floor.
"Harry?" Y/N called through the door but received no response. "Harry, are you okay? It's me, it's Y/N."
"Y/N," Harry's voice murmured through the door. Y/N relaxed a little at the sound of his voice but she was still worried about him. It wasn't normal for him to keep his distance from her like this.
"Harry, are you okay?" She rested her hand on the doorknob, preparing to open it so she could see him with her own eyes.
"I-I'm fine baby. Go t' sleep m'love. I'll be there in a little while," Y/N frowned when she heard him wheezing a little as he breathed between words. He spoke much too slowly compared to his usual drawl as though it was too much work for him to speak.
"Harry please, jus' wanna see you." She tries again, hoping he'll open the door.
"Promise I'll be there t' give you your kisses baby but I jus' need... a moment," Y/N's face fell.
"H-Harry you're scaring me," She said, quietly.
Harry was on the other side of the door, clutching onto his side. He was already hurting but hearing his angel begging to come in was killing him. He couldn't leave her out there. She looked the perfect remedy to his currently aching body when he looked through the peephole of his door and saw her already in her pyjamas, looking all snuggly and cute.
"Not tryin' t' scare you, dove. Please I'll be out in a minute." He hoped she would listen like she normally would. He needed enough time to clean up as best as he could so he could return to her- looking like the Harry she knew- but she wasn't having it, reminding him of just how stubborn she could be when she wanted to. 
"Harry, I-I'm gonna open the d-door. I have to see if you're okay," She spoke, clearly and carefully.
Harry looked down as the doorknob twisted. He wanted to twist the key and lock it to keep her out but he lost control of his own mind as he stepped back and allowed her to push the front door open.
He stood under the dim light of his living room. He had been meaning to get the lightbulb fixed but he'd been spending too much time at Y/N's apartment to remember.
Her eyes went from his feet all the way up to meet his face. Her lips parted and her eyes started to water, his heart ached at the sight. "No baby," He stepped forward, pulling her into him and holding her to his chest even though it ached to do so.
"H-Harry," She whispered, her voice cracking, "What happened?"
She pulled back and cupped one of his cheeks in her small hand. Harry's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, he could have sworn every ounce of pain lifted from her touch alone. "Was out with a friend, you know, the one who deals," He explained, referring to Mike who Y/N had met. He didn't want to hide from her and she already knew he smoked weed regularly so it was no surprise to her when he told her he'd been smoking, "We pulled over so he could drop something off but I guess the customer got a little aggressive. He was probably on something but he was refusing to pay I think Mike said. I was in the car and all I saw was this guy trying to swing at him. I ran out to help him and we managed to get away before he had the chance to do anything worse but he obviously managed to get a good few hits in before."
Harry hadn’t remembered the last time he had gotten into a fight other than when he was a teenager just after his parents got divorced. He had managed to get a few punches in, making his knuckles all red and cut up, but he'd also been the victim of a few hits too. He had a black eye, a busted lip and a pounding headache from the impact of the punch he had received.
"Harry," Y/N choked on a sob, "Y-you could have been seriously h-hurt,"
"I know baby, I know." He cradled her head in his arms as she wrapped her arms around him, not squeezing too tight because she knew he was in pain. "But 'm here now."
Her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked at him, "You were helping Mike?" She asked.
"'s all I was doing baby, promise." He hated how worried she looked so he was willing to do anything to comfort her until she knew he was okay.
She pulled away, "W-where are you hurting?" She looks down as if checking him for any more bruising. He could see her visibly starting to panic, her hands shaking and her chest moving up and down rapidly.
"Hey, c'mere, c'mon now." He picked her up and brought her over to the couch, "M okay sweet girl, nothing to worry about anymore. Calm down f' me, please. Hate seeing you in a panic." He uttered to her, rocking her back and forth with her face buried in his neck. 
"You're all b-bruised," She whimpered, "Y-you must be in so much pain."
"Not anymore my love. Hmmm, my flower is here, takin' all m' pain away aren't you dove?" He kissed her shoulder.
"C-can I help you?" She whispered, eyes blotchy and red from crying a little.
"Wanna patch up m' bruises love?" She nods as if there was nothing else she'd rather do than be there for him. "Alright, le's go to the bathroom and y' can help me." He carried her to the bathroom and placed her on the counter near the sink. He grabbed a first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink and handed it to her. "Didn't know m' girlfriend was a little nurse." He smirked, a blush covering her cheeks.
Harry stood between her legs with his hands on the counter on either side of her. He watched her as she cleaned the cuts and treated the bruise covering his eye. He smiled when the tip of her tongue stuck out between her lips, "Be careful, I'll bite that tongue." He teased.
Y/N squeaked hiding her tongue away, but quickly composed herself, "You're not getting anywhere near my tongue mister." She sasses and Harry grins so wide, his cheeks hurt.
"No? You don't think I deserve a kiss baby? M in so much pain." He hides his face in her neck and presses spongy kisses on her soft skin.
Y/N giggles at the ticklish sensation, trying to push him away, "No, you can't, not until I patch you up and you stop getting into fights."
"Actin' like I get into fights every other weekend baby," He smirks, "Only f' you."
Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to figure out what to say in such a flustered state from his words. He takes the opportunity to kiss her, their lips pressing together under the low light of the bathroom. He hadn't seen her since this morning and had been missing her all day but knew she needed some time with her girlfriends without him smothering her. It didn't stop him from glancing at his phone now and then to see if she'd called him, just like she had done.
The small time they spent away from each other during the day made him all the more desperate to kiss her. He cradled both her cheeks in his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbones. She wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the baby strands of hair on the nape of his neck. "Missed you," She murmured when their lips parted.
"Missed y' too flower." He hummed, "Don't know what's wrong w' me to want you this bad." His hands travelled down her arms, his fingers brushing over her tattoo as he slid past it before he intertwined their fingers together. “Think m just a teeny bit in love with y’ to be honest.” He confessed. 
And suddenly they were both existing outside of their own bodies.
"W-what?" Y/N's eyes glazed over.
“Oh shit.” Harry cusses, squeezing his eyes shut, his face scrunching in frustration, “Wasn’t meant to be this way flower.” 
“Y-you love me?” Her bottom lip quivered, her brain not quite believing what she was hearing. 
Harry's heart was racing as he looked her in the eyes, "I love you." The words left his mouth and had never felt so right or so freeing. He couldn't understand why now of all moments was the time to finally say it but a piece of himself felt whole and all the pain from his body had left as he told her the three words that had been trapped in his throat for so long.
Y/N's mind whirred as she processed Harry's words. The air seemed to thicken around them, and for a moment, time hung suspended. She searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all she found was sincerity and vulnerability. "You do?" She whimpered.
"Oh no flower, don't cry. Hate seeing tears in those pretty eyes," He began to wipe them away as soon as they fell from her eyes.
"I'm sorry," She blubbered, "I never imagined... I never imagined someone could feel this way about me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Never thought I'd be in love either but here we are," He chuckled, "Love you so much, m'favourite flower." He rubbed their noses together.
Y/N's pouty lips sprouted into a beautiful smile, "I love you too Harry, more than anyone in the whole world."
"Y’ already told me that once before." He smiled, a mixture of adoration and a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. 
“I did?” She frowned. 
“Mhm,” Harry nodded, “Before you fell asleep, you mumbled it and told me you loved me and when you woke up y’ didn’t remember.” 
“Really?” She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed knowing she admitted something so big in her sleep.
“Honestly,” Harry told her, “Think y’ were probably dreaming or something.”
“Is this a dream? Feels like it,” Y/N whispers. 
“S most certainly not a dream m’love.” Harry kissed her quickly, “Gonna love you forever I think.” 
She leant forward, running her fingers through his hair as his head fell back. He hummed at the feeling, biting on his lip to stop himself from smiling so much before burying his face in the crook of her neck - in the place he loved so much. "Promise." He whispered, lips ghosting her skin.
Their fingers traced lazy patterns on each other's skin, a silent communication between them. The room was filled with the hushed whispers of their love, as if time had slowed down so they could savour the sweetness of this very moment.
Y/N yawned which made the corner of Harry's lips turn upwards, "Y' done fixing me up now? Wanna go t' bed love?" She nodded, wrapping herself around him. He reminded himself to clean away the first aid kit in the morning, his priority was getting his girl some much-needed sleep.
She curled into him when they lay in his small bed, her head resting on his chest right where her heart was. She played with his hair and he ran a hand up and down her bare back underneath her pyjama shirt, "I love you," She murmured into the quiet.
He hoped she could hear his heart beat a little faster at her words, "I love you s' much, flower. With everything in me, gonna be mine forever y'are." He mumbled the words into her ear. 
Harry cupped the side of her face as her tired, glossy eyes looked at him with so much love and adoration, that he didn’t know what to do with it all. In the dimly lit room, they leaned in close, their breath mingling as their lips met in a gentle, passionate kiss. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, while hers tangled in his hair. They explored each other's mouths, lost in the heat of the moment, their bodies pressed together. Each kiss was filled with longing and desire, igniting a fire between them that burned brighter with every touch.
“I’ve never loved anyone before,” Y/N whispered to him. 
“Really?” Harry smiled. 
“You’re my first love.” Y/N has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling so wildly but Harry tugs her lip with his thumb and suddenly her smile is so wide her cheeks turn pink.
“You’re my first and only love.” He murmured. 
She liked that and she loved him. 
This was exactly where they were both meant to be —with the person who had become not only their first love but their forever love too. 
A flower tattooed to his heart.
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azulhood · 1 month
Text
Jazz was, at her core, a pessimist.
Oh sure, she wanted the best outcomes and strived to always see the best in people. But listening to her parents talk about and share crime scene photos of someone who was brutally murdered and who may haunt the place they were headed to while true crime podcasts played instead of road trip tunes as they traveled to whatever graveyard had caught their interest had dulled young Jazz's faith in humanity.
Jazz still had memories of a young her standing in an abandoned insane asylum (or abandoned hospital, or old house, or graveyard, or whatever place they dragged her too) holding a small torch with shaky hands and begging to leave because she was terrified "Can we go? Please? this place is scaring me" only to be told "In a minute Jazzy, we down want the ghost getting away."
They had settled down after Danny was born, choosing to stay in one placed instead of traveling all over the country. She still expected them to unexpectedly announce that they were going on the road again, she had plans in case they did (saying she'd stay behind with the van to take care of Danny was better then both of them getting used as ghost bait) But surprisingly they didn't.
And Jazz was thrilled. Sure, she and Danny were known as the kids of the towns crazy ghosthunters, and sure, she basically had to raise her brother since her parents would rarely leave their lab let alone focus on something not ghost related, and yes, she did have to carefully plan out how to use the family's money so that none of them starved.
But no more sleeping in cheap hotels or their van, no more making friends at playgrounds that she'd never see the next day, no more countless hours spent in places where people died, no more English lessons while on the road. She went to school now, she had friends that she saw more than once, she had a home that wasn't filled with cockroaches and the sounds of a argument from the room next door. She had a semi-normal life.
In this time of normality, she relaxed, she let her guard down. Then Danny died and only came back halfway.
And Jazz was back to being that little girl who was scared of ghosts, only this time she was scared for a ghost.
Danny didn't tell her at first, and even though it hurt she understood, and so while she waited for him to tell her, she planned.
She took job after job, from mowing someone's lawn to working at a checkout. Money had been put aside in bags filled with clothes and a pair of new id that she had gotten from Tucker, ("Just in case our parents get classified as supervillains and we need to flee" She said not giving anyway that she knew of Danny's ghostly problem, Tucker had made the id anyway even if he thought she was joking and did not in fact have a plan should that situation happen) One of their neighbors was willing to let her buy their old car despite her family's driving history. A safe house (more like safe apartment) was bought in the only place that was willing to let a teen buy property, Gotham City.
Danny fought numerous enemies until the only enemy that was left was telling their ghost hunter parents that their son was half dead.
Compared to her, Danny was an optimist, seeing the best in everyone without even having to try like she did. Believing that the best would happen like if he didn't, he would break into a million pieces and not know how to put himself together again.
Even though he was scared Danny believed that their parents wouldn't react badly, Jazz hoped they wouldn't but was prepared if they did.
And finally, after many nights spent wide awake in case her parents tried to rip Danny apart molecule by molecule while she slept, the shoe dropped. Their parents loved them, but their work came first, it always came first. Jazz loved her parents, she truly did, but she loved Danny more. And in the end, that made her choice of driving all the way to Gotham with nothing but their go bags all the more easier.
And that was how Jazz and Danny ended up as the neighbors of one Jason Todd.
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cupid-styles · 1 month
Note
Oh fuck tattoorry piercing his girl’s nipples would be so hot specially with how much she loves humiliation that entire interaction would be so sexually charged
this took me FOREVER but I hope you enjoy!!!!
part of the tattoorry/plugrry world
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word count: 3k
content warnings: piercings (mentions of needles), spicy but no smut
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
"Wait, you're being serious?"
Harry huffs out a laugh, sticking his chopsticks in the to-go container of veggie lo mein. "Of course I'm being serious. Why would I lie about that, dovie?"
His response, though not meant to make her feel bad, makes her shrug, a warm blush blooming over the expanse of her cheeks. She stuffs another bite of dumpling in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully to save her from further embarrassment in front of her boyfriend. 
"Don't feel bad," he murmurs, his large palm finding the space between her shoulders, rubbing her sweatshirt-clad skin comfortingly. Her eyes stay glued to the television in front of them, where they're watching the newest episode of Ru-Paul's Drag Race per Y/N's request. (She's never watched it before and Jo, the receptionist at St. Mark's Social, told her she had to. Y/N's been steadily binging it for weeks. Harry pretends like he doesn't love it, but he's secretly just as invested.)
"Dove, look at me," he sighs, placing his food on the coffee table. She does, positioning herself to face him and flittering her eyes up to his face. He looks tired, but they both are. It's been a long week of work and school — however, Y/N was able to get an interview for the bookstore on campus, which ended up causing her a lot of stress and anxiety. It ultimately went well and they said they'd be getting back to her soon. Even if it wasn't the bookstore she wanted to work at, it was still a source of income that would hopefully replenish some of her savings and help her pay rent and bills. 
"I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry I did that," he says softly, "It's just a given to me, because of my work. Nipple piercings aren't otherworldly, like they probably are for you."
She shouldn't be nitpicking, but somehow that hurts just as badly. Sometimes, she feels like a child around Harry. It's as if he's lived a thousand lives in the adult world and she's just recently gotten to have a smidgen of those experiences. 
"It's not otherworldly," she says the word like it's an insult, and Harry has to press his lips into a line so he doesn't laugh, "I just didn't know people got them."
Clearing his throat, he forces himself to put on his professional piercer-and-tattooer face, "Yeah. It's something that anyone can get and I've done a fair amount of them. Semi-painful in the moment with a long healing time. They can look good on the right person, though."
That causes her eyebrows to nearly shoot up to her forehead. 
"What do you mean, the right person?"
"You're just a nosy little thing tonight, aren't you?" Harry fires back with a smirk. She goes to cower with deflated shoulders but he instantly makes a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, grabbing her hands to keep her close, "I just mean, like any piercing, it doesn't always look right on the person. Sometimes people get nose or eyebrow piercings and it's like, oh, that's fine. But sometimes it's as if their anatomy looks complete with the piercing — almost like it's meant to be there, if that makes sense."
It doesn't, but it only continues to pique her curiosity even more. 
"What about me?" 
"What about you?" Harry chuckles, using a hand to smooth her hair down. 
"What piercings would look good on me?"
He smirks at her little game. She plays this sometimes, and he assumes it only comes from a place of true wonder. When they talked about the drugs he's done before, she asked which ones he think she'd like. (None, except maybe for weed, but she has to get her anxiety under control before she tries it.) They went over different styles of tattoos when Y/N was interested in his work, especially when he explained that his are just a hodgepodge of designs, some with meaning, some without. (He said she can get whatever she wants if she decides on something one day, but he's particularly partial to a little "H" on her bum.) And now, she wants to know what piercings would fit her. 
"You can get whatever you'd like, dovie," he replies, "Just as long as I'm the one doing it."
She rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the plush of the couch cushion. "Yeah, but you're the professional, Harry! You know what would look best on me."
"Anything would, you're gorgeous."
"That's a cop-out answer and you know it!"
Harry laughs loudly and places his hands atop her shoulders, "Okay, okay. Let me think, dovie. I need to assess my client."
"Oh, you're being a professional now?"
"Shhhh!" he exclaims, and it only makes her laugh harder. He's already gone to that focused place, though, with wandering but fixated eyes and that small crinkle between his eyebrows. She feels bashful beneath his gaze, blinking her eyes as he analyzes her facial features. She's watched him work before, but for some reason, this in particular reminds her of the first time they met, when she sat in on him tattooing Mai. She remembers the way her stomach warmed and her core throbbed at his attuned facial expression, similar to how it is now.
"Okay," he murmurs. Slowly, he reaches up to gently tap at the side of her nose. "I think you'd look very pretty with a small nose piercing."
"Really?"
He nods. "Yes, but you're beautiful with or without, so it doesn't matter. Plus, I can't have my girlfriend looking cooler than me."
She's not surprised at the way he instantly returns to his teasing self, even if it's not exactly the answer she was fishing for. She watches as he leans forward to grab his carton of noodles. With her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips, she attempts to grab his attention again.
"What about...?" she glances down at her chest. Harry looks at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her form is currently swallowed up in a sweatshirt that's a few sizes too large, so she realizes she's not being entirely specific about what she's asking. "Like...?"
"Huh?"
She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"
"Oh," Harry's eyes widen, flickering down to her covered breasts, "You wanna know if you'd look good with nipple piercings?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She watches at the cogs turn in his brain, his gaze meeting hers a moment later. 
"Need to see 'em." he says decidedly. 
She huffs out a chuckle as he helps her peel her sweatshirt off, leaving her in a comfortable bralette. It's pale pink and sheer, but with Harry's hands splayed across her ribs, he still pulls the fabric down. In an instant, her nipples are stiff and peaked from the cold air, and she's attempting not to feel sheepish underneath his intense eyes as they flicker between her breasts. 
"I don't know why I'm even contemplating it," he says, though it's mainly to himself, "Of course you'd look hot with them. You're you."
He looks up at her with a goofy grin before pressing a kiss between them. She blushes.
"You think so?" she asks as her hand finds the back of his neck. He nods, eyes flickering closed when her fingertips play with the shorter, curly tendrils. 
"Of course."
"Would you do it, then?"
Harry's eyes shoot open. "Wait, what? I thought we were just... talking, I didn't think you were being serious."
Y/N shrugs, "I dunno, I kind of like the idea of it."
"Dovie... you only have your ears pierced," he mumbles, sitting up and reaching to gently touch her ear lobes, "If this is something you'd seriously want, I'd want you to think about it for at least, maybe, a few days, not just 10 minutes."
"I've never done anything impulsive, though," Y/N says through a whine. He understands it, and his face crinkles some at her request. "You've gotten tattoos while you were drunk! O-or given stupid ones to yourself!"
"I know, baby," Harry coos, "But those were stupid decisions and I don't want you to make the same ones. You're so much better than that."
She sighs dejectedly. He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, then to her nose. 
"I get it, dove, really. And by all means, I'd rather you get an impulsive piercing than a tattoo. But the healing time is really long, and it is painful. I just don't want you to regret it or... or get mad at me, either."
Y/N's heart softens a bit, nodding her head as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I understand." 
"If you still want them in a few weeks or months, I'm more than happy to be the one to do it," he says softly, reaching down to give her hand a small squeeze. She perks up a little at that, and he smiles. "Just give it some more thought, okay?"
. . .
Harry really, truly thought Y/N would never mention the whole nipple piercing thing again.
It turns out, his girl is way more stubborn than he could have ever anticipated, because it's been four weeks since then and she still wants them. 
In fact, she's currently sitting in his little work zone, where he tattoos and pierces other clients. Not his girlfriend.
"Are you sure?" he asks for the thousandth time. In the time since she first brought it up, she's done tons of research, including asking Harry just short of a million questions. He appreciated her enthusiasm towards education, but talking about nipple piercings as soon as he finished up work wasn't always ideal. Still, though, he made sure to entertain anything she had to ask, even catching her looking up different jewelry styles and what it looked like on different people. 
And, as soon as Jo accidentally overheard Y/N talking to him about it, of course she offered to show her own. Harry wanted to bang his head into a wall as he listened to them excitedly chatter in the corner, right after one of his employees bared her entire chest to his girlfriend. It had to be some type of workplace violation, only Harry served as the closest thing to Human Resources at the shop — and, considering they sold weed on the side, he didn't think he had much of a case against Jo.
It just so happened that Y/N got out of classes early on Wednesday and Harry hung around the shop those days, making deals and doing boring business administration things. When she asked if she could come by to get her piercings done, he reluctantly said yes. 
It wasn't that he didn't absolutely love the idea of it — he did, actually, and his mouth nearly watered at the imagery it created in his brain. What he did hate was the thought of causing his girl any kind of pain. He was still in the camp of being fearful that she'd get angry at him if she didn't end up liking it. But her excitement towards it never wavered, and he would never be one to tell her no.
"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replies, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm nervous, though."
"That's normal, dovie. Just try your best to relax, it's only me."
She nods as he shuts the door to give them some privacy. He never does that with clients, but he wants to make sure he's making it as comfortable as a process as possible — and, maybe he's keen on ensuring no one else gets a peek. 
He busies himself with sanitizing his tools, washing his hands, and eventually pulling a pair of latex gloves on. He wishes he could make it a more fun experience for her, but the whole thing is quite medical.
"You already picked your jewelry out, right?" he asks lowly. She nods her head as she watches on. 
"Mhm. I sent you a picture of it last week."
"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?" 
The piercing jewelry she'd chosen were pretty spot on to Y/N's aesthetic of being uncomplicated and feminine. When he saw what she picked, he immediately told her that it would fit her perfectly. 
"Alright, I'm gonna clean them and then we can get started. Still feeling good?"
She nods again. 
"You gonna tell me if you're gonna pass out again, baby?"
She scowls, remembering back to fainting from her first ear piercing. The sour, twisted frown on her face makes him laugh. 
"That's still so embarrassing." she mumbles. On the newly cleaned workspace, Harry shakes his head, placing the sanitized jewelry and piercing supples down on it. 
"Not embarrassing. Cute, actually," he corrects, peeling his gloves off. "Okay. I'm gonna help position you, is that okay?"
"Do you do that for every client?"
He narrows his eyes at her playfully, "No, you jealous little fiend."
She pulls her sweater off, revealing a pale blue baby tee. He swallows as she lays back on the extended table, taking a deep breath to surely calm her nerves. He gently squeezes her wrist, hovering over her form as she gets comfortable. When she shoots him a small nod, he smiles, flipping her shirt up. 
"Okay, baby," he says, smoothing his hand over her stomach, "I'm sure you read this in your... insane amount of research—"
"Not insane."
He nods curtly, "Right, not insane," he quickly corrects. "Anyway, your nipples have to be hard for this. It helps with the placement."
She issues another silent nod his way but doesn't move to do anything. With a small smile, he gently cups her breast. 
"Do you want me to?" he asks, his tone dropping lowly. She's not quite sure what he's even asking to do, but she still provides an affirmative answer. It's not a second more before he's latched his lips around her nipple, her eyes fluttering back from the sucking sensation. It's messy, the way he alternates between each one so they're swollen with his spit, and her fingers find his long curls, tugging at them gently to press him closer to her chest. 
It feels like he's gone far too quickly, plushy, wet lips pressing a quick kiss to the valley between her breasts as he examines his work. Her mouth parts as she watches him bite his lip. 
"You're good," he pants out, though he takes a moment to adjust the growing bulge in his pants, "Need to... put gloves back on."
They're both a bit lust-driven now, but Harry's quick to meld back into his professional persona after snapping a clean pair of gloves on his hands. Y/N swallows as he analyzes her, feeling squeamish beneath his eyes. Wordlessly, he grabs a marker and places two dots on either of her nipples. 
"That's just for the placement," he explains, grabbing a mirror so she can look at where the jewelry would sit, "What do you think?"
Truthfully, they could have been completely wonky and Y/N wouldn't have noticed, let alone say anything. She trusts Harry implicitly, even if she still feels a bit hazy from the welcomed assault on her stiffened breasts.
"Good." she says with a nod, glancing up at him, "Looks good."
"Alright, baby," he replies. He turns to get the clean piercing needle from his rolling tray. "I'm gonna count down from three. I want you to close your eyes and inhale on three, then exhale on one. We'll take a short break after the first one, and then I'll do the second. Does that sound okay?"
"Mhm," she mumbles, nervously biting her lip. "Just do it, please. 'm gonna lose my nerve."
He chuckles and nods, instructing her to keep her eyes closed as he situates himself over her. 
"Okay. Three— there you go, dovie, big, deep breath— two, one."
She immediately winces from the sharp bite of pain, a noisy gasp falling from her lips. Harry silently cringes to himself — not because the piercing isn't perfect, but because he absolutely hates knowing he's the reason why she's in pain right now. 
"Keep your eyes closed, baby," he murmurs as he fits the jewelry through the first piercing, "Good girl. You're doing so good for me, hm? My strong baby."
She swallows harshly, hands balled into fists at her side. It's painful, that much is true, and she's beyond grateful when he finally finishes screwing the jewelry into place. She lets out a shaky breath and Harry coos, taking one of his gloves off to thumb her tears away. 
"Was that okay, dovie?" he asks worriedly, "We can always save the second for another day."
Y/N quickly shakes her head, "No, no. Just do the other one now, otherwise I'll never have you do it."
Harry repeats the process on the other side. The pain is just as bad, tears continuing to cloud Y/N's vision and roll down her cheeks despite her keeping her eyes squeezed close. He shushes her softly throughout it, his heart tugging. Once he's finished, he's quick to wash his hands, listening to her quiet sniffles. 
"I know baby, I know," he mumbles. He crosses the room as soon as he's done, sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back, "You did so good, you know that? 's all done, dovie, you're done."
She sniffs, batting her wet eyelashes up at him. "'s done?"
"Yeah, sweetheart." he says with a small, crooked smile. "You were so good. Took it like a champ."
"I didn't, I cried the whole time."
He chuckles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as he stands to grab the handheld mirror. He helps her slowly sit up, hinging at the waist. He holds it up to her chest, both pairs of their eyes staring at her swollen breasts. His eyes flitter to her face to gauge her expression, scared that she hates them. 
"Wait," she mutters, cocking her head to the side, "Wait... they're kind of hot."
Relief floods Harry's system and he smirks. "You think so?" 
"Yeah," she nods, sitting up on her knees, "I know they're kinda puffy right now but... I think I like them. A lot."
Harry swallows harshly, dropping the mirror on his chair. Suddenly, he's surging towards her and taking her cheeks between his large palms, smushing their lips together like his life depends on it. It takes her entirely by surprise, and it's hurried and hot and desperate, so much so that she's panting into his mouth and gripping at his black tee-shirt. 
When he finally breaks their kiss, strings of spit still connecting their mouths, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers. Again, he glances down to get another look at her chest. 
"I love you so fucking much," are the only words he can utter out before he's pulling her jeans down to bury his head between her legs. 
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tacticaldiary · 9 months
Note
Can you do a fic where reader and simon are kidnapped and simon has to watch reader be tortured and creeped on by their kidnapper for information.Happy endibg with them being rescued.Ignore if it makes you uncomfortable :)
Captured In Tandem
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Content Warning: Torture, Men being creepy, mentions of sexual assault
"I'll give you a choice." He says, cocking the gun. "Shall I put a bullet through you, or her?"
He's been trained to keep his mouth shut, taught himself from enough pain to span a lifetime, but never did he fathom she'd be dragged into it with him. It's unforgivable.
Masterlist, Part 2
A/N: This is literally one of my favourite tropes-
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The first thing he registers is the pounding in his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ghost claws his way back to consciousness, sluggish mind attempting to click the pieces swimming in his head together into a cohesive narrative.
He was asleep...no, he was unconscious. Why? Ghost doesn't open his eyes for a moment, gathering his bearings. His senses snap to him quickly. The metallic smell of blood, the scent of gunpowder. The hard wood under him...a wooden chair? He exhales sharply, charting the sharp stinging in his side.
Injured.
He can't move his hands, ropes digging into the skin above his gloves. Once he's grasped back his control, steadied his breathing into something calm and acceptable, he takes a second to listen. There's nothing but the steady dripping of what he assumes is water on the floor. A pipe?
He's cold. His hands are freezing and so is his face-
His face?
Ghost's eyes snap open at the realisation.
His mask was gone, ripped off and on the floor by his feet. He's tied to a chair. He doubts he'd have gotten such a warm welcome if he was back at base right now, so where...?
An RPG, he suddenly remembers, a sour taste in the back of his throat. They had been on an OP with Price, the team had been split into two, sent to clear out a building on the outskirts of the city, tasked to meet in the middle.
An unaccounted armed squad had aimed at them with an RPG. Ghost remembers barking out an order to his partner, shoving her roughly out of the way behind a beat up car. The rocket hit the car, igniting the engine causing it to explode, the both of them thrown back against the brick wall behind them and-
Her.
His blood runs cold at the sound of a small groan from in front of him.
Shit.
Slowly, he raises his head and his stomach drops at the sight of her opposite to him in the same state.
Shit. No, this was all wrong. The RPG must have knocked them both out. They'd been captured.
"Fuck, my head." She groans, blinking herself awake. Like him, he can tell she's charting up the extent of her injuries, piecing together the events leading up to their capture.
Price would find them soon. They can't have hauled them too far away under the threat of them waking up mid transportation.
"Sleep well?" He rasps, watching her still, head snapping up to look at him.
"Best I've ever had." She responds dryly, looking him up and down. Her eyes linger on the dried blood staining his shoulder. It's a miracle the both of them ended up as unscathed as they did. Only bruises and scrapes, miraculously. She yanks on her bindings, scowling when they don't budge. Ghost can see the angry red marks around her wrists, the same as his. "We're in for a treat, huh?" She laughs humourlessly, leaning back in her chair. "Don't suppose you keep any knives hidden in your sleeves, L.T?" Half joking. She wouldn't be surprised if he did.
"Can't feel 'em." He grunts. "Must have searched us."
Of course they did.
She shifts in her seat, hating the idea of hands touching and probing at her when she's not awake to bat them away. Ghost would be just as, if not more uncomfortable with the thought, if the angry furrow in his brow is anything to interpret.
Voices. Footsteps. Both of them go rigid in their chairs, eyes snapping to the other. No words are exchanged, but a slight raise of the chin from her. They would not break.
She knows exactly what's to come for them for the next however long it took for their team to retrieve them. She's been through this before, been trained for it, seen it happen, hell she's even participated on being the one not in the chair.
They wouldn't break. The knowledge they have could compromise more than just their current operations. Ghost acknowledges the shaky exhale she lets out, casts her an unreadable look before the door swings open behind him, his eyes turning cold once more.
If she notes the tension in his shoulders, she doesn't mention it.
Three men walk into the room, mumbling under their breath. Russian. A quick glance to confirm the other caught it.
The thing with the both of them is that they worked better together than anybody else in the team. Working in tandem, information exchanged with just a glance, seemingly in tune with every thought and movement of the other. It's why they were almost always paired together.
"Some of the best your the military has to offer, you are.." He smiles, flicking through the file. "It seems I have struck a goldmine." The file snaps shut, is handed off the someone else.
She hopes the motherfucker gets a nasty papercut.
                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
They come twice a day. Once for him, once for her.
Ghost keeps his mouth shut, isn't surprised when she does as well. The both of them have been trained for situations like this, have both gone through a lot of shit that renders them capable of handling it.
It's her that he hasn't been trained to account for.
Ghost had only jeered at the men that interrogated him. Drenched after being waterboarded, bloody from being cut and beat, he had not given them a single thing to work with, taking what they threw at him with a calm, strong, cool exterior.
It was when they turned to her that he felt that crack.
Every knife turned against her, every crack of her bones, each small sound of pain that left her had an anger he'd never felt before bubble up inside him. Glaring death into the people who lay their hands on her as they questioned her, he stayed silent, unmoving as they put her through the same routine as him.
"Not long before they find us now." She'd said hoarsely after the second day. They'd just left them after being unsuccessful in loosening their tongues. Again. He takes in how her arm bends at a strange angle (He'd never forget the scream that teared out of her throat when they snapped it in half), the cuts dripping blood onto the floor and on her tattered clothes (Each one he'd pay back tenfold, he swears), and the exhaustion lining her face the same way he's sure he looks.
Being unmasked...it makes him more on edge than usual.
It's nothing she'd never seen before. She'd touched his bare face countless times, mumbled promises and declarations they had no business making against his lips at night. It had always been in private, shielded from the eyes of others. Now, out in the open, he was more aware of his reactions than ever before, refusing to let out any reaction except for the occasional grunt of pain.
"They're sure taking their damn time." He spits out.
"Gonna give them an earful when I get back." She cough, watery. Ghost's eyes widen when blood splatters to the floor. "Shit." She breathes, inhaling shakily.
Internal bleeding. A telltale sign.
He yanks against his bindings for the hundredth time. Nothing changes aside from more blood trickling down his torn open skin.
"Don't think about it." He orders. "Look here." When she doesn't listen, just blinking at the blood she coughed up as if in a trance, he repeats himself roughly, drawing her attention.
"Right here. Keep your eyes on me." He commands, and it's all she can do to let instinct take over and listen to his low voice. "That's it, love. Good."
She opens her mouth. Shuts it. Swallows dryly and tries again. "If I-"
"Shut up."
"Ghost." She says weakly, "It's a possibility, and if-"
"I told you to shut up." He hisses, fixing her with a glare.
She was in a much worse state than him. Far bloodier. They were rougher with her, thinking she'd be the first one to break, to concede under pain and answer their questions.
Safehouses, plans, locations, inner workings. The intel they stole a month ago. They wanted to know answers that neither of them would ever give them.
The door swings open. The man from the first day walks in, in crisp clothes, wrinkling his nose and the sight of them.
The sight makes Ghost pause. He was in charge here, clearly. This kind of work wasn't normally put on people like that, which meant that things were getting serious. Something had sparked urgency in them if they were seeing this guy. Something had changed.
The 141.
As if on cue, there's the distant sound of gunfire, and the building trembles slightly, dust cracking down from the ceiling. It's ignored by the man completely.
"Admirable, you are." He addresses them. "But I'm afraid there's not time for a soldier's pride during war." They stiffen when he pulls out a revolver from his pocket, clicking open the empty chamber. "I require answers. Call it compensation for what was stolen from me. I don't think you understand that I will get my way in the end. By whatever means necessary."
A single bullet. Loaded into the chamber. Ghost follows the movement with his eyes.
"I'll give you a final chance to be cooperative before I give you a choice." The Russian says evenly, looking at them both in turn.
"Go to hell." Ghost drawls. In his bloodied, beaten state, weak from blood loss and in a disarray from being tortured, he seems to look even more intimidating than usual.
The man sighs deeply. He clicks the chamber shut.
He aims at her and fires.
She barely has the chance to tense before a click fills the room. Nothing. It's when he turns the gun to Ghost that her breath catches in her throat, panic clawing it's way up and through her veins.
Ghost does not flinch. Does not wince or react, merely holds her gaze calmly, in that reassuring steady way he always has.
Click. Nothing.
He continues moving back and forth between them until there's only one chamber left. An undeniable bullet inside. The man turns to Ghost, a smile on his face.
"The choice you have, my friend, is which one of you I put this bullet through."
Ghost visibly stiffens in his chair, fixes him with a scathing stare.
"If you refuse to answer, I have no issue shooting you both." He says evenly, weighing the revolver in his hands. "So who will it be? You, or your lady?" He points the gun back and forth, her heart in her throat.
Me. She thinks. Pick me. The thought of him taking that bullet when there's a choice for her to instead makes her sick.
But it's Ghost. And he's selfless in the most annoying of ways.
"Me." He says tightly, the words forced out and full of venom.
The Russian grins, pleased, raising the gun. She's about to yell at him, tell him to shoot her instead-
She doesn't have to.
The gun turns to her, fires, and pain explodes in her right thigh, wrenching out a scream from between her clenched teeth as she doubles over. Her vision goes black for a second and she can't breathe.
Yelling. There's yelling over the ringing in her ears. Ghost shouts profanities at the man, threats and growls as his chair scrapes against the floor at his attempts to get loose.
He breaks.
The Russian simply laughs, tucking his gun away.
Where the fuck were they? Where were the others? The team? They were close, that much was obvious, so why the fuck weren't they here yet, then?
She gasps when her head is wretched back painfully by her hair, pain thrumming through her like sharp needles as she's forced to straighten up. It hurts, fuck, it hurts worse accompanied with every other goddamn thing wrong with her right now.
"You just couldn't seem to stop looking at her. I thought It'd be more of an incentive to loosen your tongue." He chuckles at Ghost's fury.
"They won't find your body." He hisses, low and threatening, eyes wild. "I'll make sure you're in so many pieces you-"
"I understand why, though." He continues on like Ghost isn't threatening great bodily harm on him. "She's quite the beaty isn't she? Even under all that gore...so easy on the eyes."
She had taken beating after beating. Cracked ribs, cuts and bruises, waterboarding and being prodded with a hot poker, but this? The lecherous way he looks her up and down, yanks he head back farther to expose her neck? It makes her blood run cold, her heart stop.
His breath fans across her face, acrid and disgusting. A choked sob tears out of her lips when his hand trails up her body, grabbing and yanking and pulling in places he has no right to touch. Her head spins from the bullet wound and the pain, and it takes a lot to gather her thoughts.
"Motherfucker-" Ghost snarls.
"I know you're bad at sharing but you wouldn't mind if I had a taste, would you?" He croons at Ghost, who jolts in his chair, pulling at his bleeding broken skin to get loose. "Not that you can do much but watch." He laughs.
This, she would not let happen. She would not let him take something that was hers and hers alone to give to whomever she decided. When he leans down farther, she gathers all her remaining strength and rears her head back, smashing it into his nose.
The satisfying crunch of bone and yell of pain makes it all worth it, draws a smile from her, even if his blood splatters the side of her face.
"Bitch." He spits out. A hand cracks across her face so hard black spots float over her vision. She cries out as it jostles her leg, her broken arm, all her cuts and and he ribs. Before she can gather her bearings, a searing pain pierces through her side, the Russian's knife driving straight into her flesh. She can't help the choked scream that leaves her, hears the way Ghost shouts, his struggling intensifying.
He wretches her out of the chair, shoves her to the floor. Tears track down her bloodied cheeks, not out of fear, but out of pure pain and anger. Disgust, pain and rage is what she feels when the Russian straddles her hips, keeping a hand on her broken arm to keep her down. His other one wraps around her neck, squeezing roughly to cut off her air.
"Answer my questions." He seethes at Ghost. "Your safehouses, the intel you fucking stole from us. Where are they!? Tell me or you'll see this pretty thing die." As if to prove his point, he squeezes harder, making her choke.
Ghost spits out threats that would make any normal man quiver. He would rip this man apart. Rip into him slowly with all his knives, prolong it as much as he could. Days, maybe even weeks. He deserved to die by his hands for what he's done to her, for touching someone so wholly and utterly his. Every single cut he'd return tenfold, twice as deep.
Part of her wants to succumb to the darkness edging her vision, but she's afraid if she does she might never wake up. She couldn't die. Not here, not like this. Ghost...Simon would blame himself, she knows it. He'd replay it over and over again, wonder if he could have done anything to prevent it.
"Get the fuck off of her!" He seethes. Seeing her under him, red in the face and bleeding, dying makes panic tear through him, a horrible desperate feeling he can't help but succumb to. She wasn't going to die, he wouldn't allow it.
Not her. Not her. Anyone but her. Take me instead.
The world was fucking cruel.
The past year had been the best of his life. The lightest, the most at peace he'd ever felt. Loving her came easily, naturally. Something he couldn't help even when he tried to push her away.
Her eyes catch Ghost's. His are desperate and frantic in a way she's never seen before. That...that was panic. But that couldn't be right because Ghost? He didn't panic. He planned and adapted, got angry and was calm. Panicking? She'd never seen it before.
Fuck. She wasn't going to die. She...was, wasn't she? Already, her vision was slipping away, her hearing going muffled. No. No, this isn't it. Not here, not like this.
If she died, Simon might, as well, and she loved him to much to leave him in a situation like this.
Clenching her jaw, she blindly reaches her bound hands to her side. When her fingers brush against the hilt of the dagger inside her flesh, she pauses.
It was the only thing keeping her from bleeding out faster than her bullet wound was already doing...
She yanks it out with all the strength she has left, slams it into the throat of the man above her. He's too busy with Ghost to chart her up as a threat. The way his eyes bug out of his head as he releases her throat in favour of clutching his own has a sob ripping through her mangled throat as she gasps in greedy gulps of air.
She shoves the man off her and in movements wild and jerky, climbs on top of him switching their positions. Ripping the knife out of his throat, she yells a broken shout as she brings it down over his chest. Then his shoulder, his neck. His chest. Over and over again, tears blurring her vision, adrenaline making her shaky, she drives the knife into him again and again thinking about nothing but killing him, taking his life so he couldn't take theirs, so she could feel her skin stop itching from the way she was touched.
"-dead, he's dead!" A voice floats to her, far, far away.
A name...her name. Her movements slow down as she recognises Ghost's voice calling out at her. Confused, disorientated, she glances over her shoulder, pausing, chest heaving.
"You're alright, sweetheart." He says, his eyes a fraction wider than usual. "Here, look at me. Right here, love." He waits till she drags her gaze up. "He's dead. It's enough."
Enough.
The word cracks something in her, the knife clattering onto the stone floor and she looks down at the bloody, unrecognisable mess under her. Scrambling off of him, she leans over and vomits up bile; acrid and burning her throat as it comes out. A strangled sob leaves her as she finishes, realising the sheer amount of blood on her. Her hand shakily goes to her side, comes back bloody in a way that makes her head spin.
"Grab the knife." Ghost urges, looking ready to try to snap the chair under him himself to reach her. "Can you do that for me? Pass me that knife." When she doesn't respond the way he wants, Ghost takes in a shaky breath and repeats himself, voice hard.
"Sergeant. The knife." He commands, low and deep and urgent.
Still a soldier despite her trembling, her body reacts to the order automatically, head clearing. Swallowing, she moves slowly, agonisingly to reach the knife.
"You're doing good." Ghost praises when she drops the knife for the second time from her shaky fingers. "Bring it here."
The moment the knife reaches his fingertips, he cuts through his bonds, kneeling in front of her, cutting hers off too. "I've got you." He murmurs, pulling her close, laying her over his lap as gently as he can as he looks over her. He doesn't really need to, it's more instinct to do so. Ghost was watching her the entire time. He knows the location of every single one of her injuries.
Swearing under his breath, he leans over, roughly rips part of the dead man's shirt off, bunching it up and pressing it against each of her two wounds. She whimpers, a strangled sound that makes him clench his jaw in rage and worry.
"I know it hurts." He consoles her while he secures another part of the shirt around the wounds. "You did well, it's over now." Mindless talk. He just needed to keep her awake.
Her hand closes over his, stilling him as he ties the final knot.
"'m sorry." She breaths, shallow and short. "Can't...Just go." She shoves weakly at his shoulder, and the incredulous, angry look Simon gives her would have been funny if everything wasn't on fire inside her.
"I'm not fucking leaving you, you dolt." He snaps, slowly pulling her up so she's sitting. The way she bites her lip hard to keep in the whine of pain doesn't escape him. "Easy." He says, supporting her despite his own screaming ribs. His left leg was mangled up, ankle dislocated so Ghost doubts he'd be walking with her out of here.
It was too risky. They could run into someone armed, and at such a disadvantage...no, it was better to stay here and wait for the others to show up.
Her eyes flutter, panic slams into him.
"None of that." He demands, prodding her forehead to make her focus. "Keep those pretty eyes on me, love."
A small huff from her that might have been a laugh sends her into a harsh coughing fit. "'m trying Simon." She whispers, words slur.
"Try harder." He squeezes her closer to him, keeping an ear out for footsteps.
"So hard to please." Barely a whisper. "You...you're okay?"
"Christ, woman," he huffs, leaning down to press his lips against her bloody forehead. "I'm better off than you."
A slight smile, her eyes fluttering shut. The loose grip she'd had on Ghost's vest slackens. His bloods turns to ice.
"Hey." He tries, calls out her name. "Hey!" He yells it this time, shakes her gently. Then rougher when she doesn't wake up, breath stuck in his throat. No. No, she was still breathing, he chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
This wouldn't work. Ghost steels himself and stands up, gritting his teeth at the pain that radiates up his leg into his whole body. Ignoring it, he hauls her up in his arms, stumbles slightly.
Staying here wasn't an option anymore, not when she was unconscious, not when the small puffs of breath against his neck could stop at any moment, not when he could lose her.
Gripping onto the small bloody knife, he limps towards the door, pushes it open without hesitation.
He'd walk for a mile like this if it meant he'd get to hear her laugh again. Fuck his own injures, her wellbeing was more important. Ghost moves the knife between his teeth, bone clacking against metal, metallic blood on his tongue. Hiking her up more securely, he starts down the hall, intending to find his team before they found him.
He'd die before he ever let her bleed out on his watch.
                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  
Her hearing comes to her first. Muffled, but still present. Under the dark haze of sleep, she hears muffled noises. The steady beeping of a machine, the rustling of bedsheets nearby. A voice talking int he distance, something she's unable to make out.
It takes too much out of her. Her mind is sluggish, thinking is hard, so sinking back into the arms of whatever is pulling her down is easier. Painless.
The second time her sense of touch returns.
Someone's holding her hand. Rough, calloused fingers, running up and down her palm, soothing gestures than accompany the beeping that she realises is a heart monitor. The familiar pressure, the roughness of those hands, the soothing movements...it lulls her back to sleep almost immediately.
The third time is quick.
Her sight returns last, One moment she's seeing darkness, the next she's blinking up at white florescent lights, the clean scent of hospital waking her up. What...?
Pushing herself up, a gasp tears out of her throat when she finds herself unable to move. Blinking and looking down, she swallows as she sees herself.
Covered in bandages, a cast around her arm. Heavy wrapping around her thigh and chest. All of her is stiff and achy. It all comes back to her in a rush.
The chair. The ropes. The bullets and beatings.
The blood.
Her stomach lurches at the memories. Simon? Where was Simon? He made it out, right? What if-
Her mind immediately settles down when she spots him. Ghost lays on the hospital bed next to hers, eyes shut, chest steadily rising up and down. Relief slams into her so hard tears prick her eyes. They made it out. Both of them. For a moment she thought...
The need to be near him, to touch him, to make sure he's real wins over her desire to stay put and ward of any discomfort. Her second attempt at moving is successful, only because of the strong pain meds dulling the edge of pain she's feeling.
Slowly, she pulls herself to the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly lowering herself onto the ground. She gasps when her leg protests, the one she was shot in. Testing her weight, she glances desperately at Simon, still sleeping. She needed him, needed to touch him, to feel him under her hands, solid and real.
She uses the walls to support her, shuffling over until she's in front of his bed. After taking a moment to gather herself and breathe, she reaches out with a shaky hand, places it on his cheek. Her throat closes at the feeling of his warm skin.
Ghost being Ghost wakes up instantly at the touch. Eyes snapping open, instantly alert even when just waking up.
Relief fills his face, something so powerful it makes a small sound push past her lips, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. "You're okay." She whispers, hoarse from not talking.
"You shouldn't be up." He responds, propping himself up with a wince she doesn't miss. He frowns at the way she trembles, looking her up and down slowly.
"I just..." She brings a hand up to wipe off her tears. "Sorry if I woke you." A watery chuckle. "Just needed to make sure, you know?"
"I do." He admits. Ghost's hand slips up her uninjured arm, guiding her onto the bed with him until she's laying down. A long, shaky exhale pushes itself out of her as she lays her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, quicker than usual but still steady soothes her instantly. He was familiar, the dips in his body, the hard muscle and those arms. It was so achingly familiar she wanted to cry.
Having her here, having her in her arms and holding her...it was almost too much to bear. Ghost had never felt relief like this.
11 days.
11 days she hadn't woken up, each one made him more irritable, restless, snappy. He was ordered to stay in bed, but he got out of it every night to sit next to her, holding her hand, just silently watching over her. 11 days was plenty of time for him to think, to run through everything he did to figure out a way he could have prevented this.
It was plenty of time to realise that he'd never take her for granted, even if there was a gun to his head.
He'd carried her all the way out of the building until he'd spotted Gaz. The poor bloke had done a double take at them, shouted something frantically in his comms and ran at them.
Ghost had forced himself to stay awake as the others arrived, forced himself to make sure she got the care she needed, sat awake with the the entire time on the heli, until they got to the hospital. Only then had he let himself get checked over and crashed hard, exhausted in a way that ran deep into his bones.
"I'm glad you're okay." He says quietly into her hair, strong arms pulling her close, their bodies intertwined.
"Are you sure this is okay?" She asks, though the way she sinks into him says she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. "Don't want to accidently hurt you or reopen anything."
"You're worse off than me, I think I should be the one worrying about that." He responds, rubbing small circles on her waist. Soothing. Calming.
"I'll always worry." She mumbles against his chest, already feeling sleep pulling her in.
"Your downfall." He huffs, pressing his lips to her forehead for a long moment. "Thought I lost you." The admission is something vulnerable, real. Painful.
"Rather me than you." She responds, eyes slipping shut.
"Say that again and see where it lands you." He grumbles, arms tightening around her. Being as helpless as he was in that situation wasn't something he'd ever forget. Having to sit there, watch those bastards touch her, hurt her, forcing himself to look impassive and cold. Unreacting.
It had been a worse torture than any of their knives.
The second he was cleared to leave the medbay, he was going on a nice little trip back. He'd retrace his steps, get Price to get him the name of every. Single. Motherfucker that had been in the building that day.
Every single one would meet a fate worse than death itself could present them with.
They'd pray for the reaper before Ghost was done with them. He'd make them beg, draw out every single scrape they left on her until they begged to be spared. Only then would Ghost let them bleed out, nice and slow. Maybe he'd even do it one at a time, make the others watch.
They're dark thoughts, but the fury that had been boiling inside him for the past two weeks needed to an outlet, and what better place than the very bastards that had dared to lay their hands on her? The thought pacifies him for now.
He's assured his revenge, but she's more important than anything like that could ever be to him.
"I'm sorry I scared you. You can't get rid of me that easy, though. Thought you knew that by now." Completely unfazed by his threat.
"I wouldn't want to." He assures her, rolling his eyes. "It'd be a bloody shame to lose someone like you, love."
It makes her smile against him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. Safe. She was safe here.
It doesn't take long before she's drifted off again, securely in his arms.
Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!
Part 2
(09/07/2023)
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amaranthineghost · 4 months
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Hi there! Can you do a pov/one shot/ fanfic where Lando is dating Y/N and her love language is biting. She randomly and softly bots Lando but he enjoys it knowing that she is fully comfortable with him to be herself. One day Max,Pietra and some other friends of Lando come to visit them in Monaco and Pietra is annoyed with Max for teasingly refusing to sit next to Y/N, P telling him that he can sit next to Y/n cause she doesn’t bite. Lando starts laughing and says that y/n does bite and moves his shirt to show a small bite mark on his shoulder. Y/N laughs it off but she gets insecure thinking that her love language is bothering Lando so she fights the urge to bite him again. After a few days Lando notices that she doesn’t bite him anymore and starts thinking that he did something to upset her. He asks her why and she eventually tells him and he gets a bit upset. He tells her that he actually likes it because its her way of showing her love and the fact that she is comfortable around him.
Idk some fluff or something
Thank you for at least reading this and I really love your work🧡
|  SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME, MY DEAR ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader
ꕥ summary: reader's love language is biting, but experiences a feeling of insecurity
ꕥ author note: oh to have a boyfriend to experience this with. fair warning, I refrain from using y/n in imagines unless it's really unavoidable because at this point y/n is a whole person by herself. if something is worded weirded, or 'she' and 'her' get repetitive, that's why. but anyways, I really like this request, its so cute and silly and i hope i did it justice :3
HIS BODY WAS OFTEN ADORNED with bite marks, indentions in his skin where you could see the canines had dipped it lower than the rest. it was a reminder to him of her love.
and he happily carried them everywhere with him, smiling to himself with every glance in the mirror at his bare torso. some faded more than others as they trailed along his arms, upwards to his shoulder and across to his collarbone.
the pads of his fingers slowly rubbed over them, a small smile spreading across his face, something he'd done everyday as the new blemishes came and went.
at first, he'd thought of it as strange, taken off guard by the sudden pinch on his bicep as she'd sink her teeth into his flesh. not so hard to break skin, she wasn't a vampire. but it was enough for him to be reminded of it.
as time went on and the occurrences became more frequent, he'd find himself smiling at it. it was his way of knowing she loved him, that she was comfortable around him, that she was safe with him, she always was and she knew that. at least he hoped she did.
to be loved was to be bitten, was what he knew. she had taught him that.
he had noticed a change though, it was hard not to. the sudden pinces throughout the day, he hadn't noticed weren't there because he had gotten used to them being there. if that made sense. it did to him.
but if he didn't notice the lack of sudden but light pain, followed with a trail of thin salvia leading to the culprits lips, he would notice the lack of marks that riddled his body.
lando had woken up that morning, groggy and his body sore from yesterday's training. the warm of his shared bed beckoned him to stay. to lay with her forever.
he wished he could, but he knew better than to lay around, even if it was with his girlfriend. though he might. was there ever any harm to remain within the comfort and grasp of the warm body that stayed passed out next to him, oblivious to his waking?
he always thought not. his trainer thought otherwise but turned a blind eye for the young couple. though their sickeningly love for the other made him roll his eyes behind their backs. all fun and games. something to laugh about.
his veined hands, warm and adorned with rings, traced across the low of her back. he watched the goosebumps take their place on her skin, her face stirring as she pushed herself further into the bed. he chuckled softly at her reaction, his thumb gliding across her exposed skin, dipping below the hem of the cloth on her body.
he lightly squeezed the flesh under his fingertips, pulling his hand across her back before replacing the covers on her. he slipped out of bed, leaning over momentarily.
his fingers slipped through her hair, getting caught in the knots that tied in the midst of her slumber. using his thumb, he brushed the strands from her face to see half her features smushed against the plush pillow.
another low chuckle escaped his throat, tucking the hair behind her ear as he pulled back and stared at the beauty before him. his eyes dilated the more he looked at her, but he wouldn't know.
his journey through the bathroom to get ready would be halted when he noticed a difference on his bare skin. but it wasn't bare because of the lack of shirt he found himself not to be wearing. what was different?
the pads of his fingers traced his skin for the indentions he cherished deeply, only met with the perfect evenness of his tan skin.
his actions haltered and brows furrowed. instinctively, he leaned closer to the mirror, the veins in his hands becoming more prominent as he pulled his skin. he turned in circles.
no blemishes in sight. not the work of his beloved girlfriend anyways.
he frowned, disappointed by the disruption of his routine. his ritual.
he swore to her many times that he could probably differentiate the marks of her teeth in his flesh to any other bite mark he'd come across. he knew her teeth better than his own. he swore he did.
he knew the indentions that littered his skin, but they weren't here. he wanted them to be so bad. why the change?
his heart sunk in his chest. he sighed. how could he not notice?
his eyes met his own gaze in the mirror, his fingers still tracing his bare collarbone and down his shoulder. he pursed his lips, eating away at the pink flesh until it irritated.
his hands fell down to the sink, supporting his body weight as he leaned on them as he pondered.
he surely noticed how faded they looked. how the red inflammation, that manifested on his skin, just didn't. but the change never processed in his brain.
he racked through the events of the past couple of days. nothing stood out.
they'd mostly stayed home together, other than the times lando went out for training. but it surely wasn't that, as she had no problem with it in the past. she understood what he did and the requirements of it that he had to meet.
lando groaned in realization. days earlier, lando and his girlfriend were out on the water with a few of their friends, drivers and their girlfriends.
it was a beautiful day, he had remembered because of the way the sun reflected off her skin, how her pupils shrank at the blinding light, but revealed the capsulating colors behind them.
he sat on the cushioned seats of the yacht, next to her with his warm hand on her inner thigh, a drink in the other. the rest of the group littered around the deck with various drinks in hand as they chatted.
most of them were just hanging out in their swimsuits as none of them had yet decided to take the plunge into the crystal waters.
they had sat next to each other for a while, lando leaning closer to hear her voice, the music was loud. her lips grazed his ear a few times, he remembered. the gloss on her lips left on his skin.
she remembered the scratch of his cheek as he'd forgotten to shave earlier whenever he'd lean into whisper in her ear. his lips ghostly hovered her neck, grazing her skin softly. despite the warm sun, goosebumps took their place down her neck.
he always chuckled at the rising bumps on her skin whenever he did something she liked. it always gave him a surge of confidence to know the effect he had against her.
"get a room!" the brit called out, laughing as he walked over with a drink in hand. his girlfriend followed behind, shaking her head at his words, but a smile evident on her face.
max fewtrell was one of lando's long time friends. their girlfriends also happened to be friends, long before the two guys came into their lives.
"mind if we sit?" pietra asked, not waiting for an answer as she took a place on the leather couch. leaving a space between the two girls so max could sit too.
she looked up to see max still standing, she rolled her eyes and patted the spot next to her, "there's enough room for all of us, why won't you sit?"
max shrugged his shoulder, "I don't know, mate, she might bite me if I try sitting down!" he exclaimed jokingly, inciting a laugh between the group.
she felt her body heat up uncomfortably, laughing along despite her discomfort.
pietra tugged on his sleeve, "she doesn't bite, you're being dramatic." her attempts were futile.
lando laughed and shook his head, "I don't know, mate, you might want to be careful." his hand left her thigh as he pulled up his sleeve to his shoulder, as he hadn't taken off his shirt just yet.
she felt her face flush and reddened, but hid it by laughing with the group, pushing her head into the crevice of his neck momentarily. his hand found her back again.
she felt the cushion next to her dip, followed by a hand squeezing her knee. she turned her head. pietra gave her a sympathetic look when she'd realized the girl's reaction.
pietra leaned close to her ear, like what lando and her were doing earlier. she whispered a few words to her before pulling away and taking a sip of her drink, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. she felt herself smile and relaxed in her seat.
but on the inside, she was eating herself up, overthinking to exhaustion. her stomach felt sick, was her habit a bother to him?
she found herself hiding in the bathroom throughout the rest of the hangout, claiming seasickness but denying medicine for it.
each time she find hersef back in the bathroom with anxious nausea and the door locked, lando would be on the other side. he'd knock on her door, talking her through it, asking her if he could get her anything, telling her he'd wait for her to come out again.
days past and she refrained from sinking her teeth into the perfect skin of his bicep, the valley of his collarbone, or the broadness before the drop of his shoulder.
each time she found herself with the urge to show the love she had through her teeth, she stopped herself.
it killed lando to think about how he could've made her feel. but he needed her to come to him, he didn't want to pry information out of her.
he could ask but he couldn't make her tell.
the door to the bathroom creaked open, lando's head snapping towards the noise, noticing the tired face eyeing him through the slit in the door.
he pushed himself from the counter, his heart beating slightly faster as he sighed. she opened the door more and dragged her feet against the tiled floor. he noticed the way her eyes squinted against the light.
she stopped when she collided against him. her cheek pushed against his chest as she leaned her weight against him.
he pulled her closer when he placed a hand on her head, another one around the low of her back. his lips were against her hair and he inhaled slowly. the faded tropical scent of her shampoo lingered in her hair.
in his head, he debated asking her. not only was she still tired, but he didn't want to push her farther, in case he had done something.
his heart beat heavily in his chest, muttering against her scalp, "what's going on, darling?" he caressed the strands of her hair, "hm?"
her heart skipped a beat, she thought he hadn't noticed, or that he didn't say anything because he had secretly hoped for this to happen.
she decided to play dumb, speaking softly against his bare skin, "what do you mean?" her voice muffled.
"come on, I know your biting habits. what's wrong?" he spoke patiently to her as he cradled her tired body in his arms, swaying softly as they stood admist the cold bathroom air.
her eyes fluttered shut as she mumbled, "I thought it annoyed you."
his head shook against hers, "why do you think that, love?" he held his breath for the answer, but in his heart, he knew what she was going to say.
he was met with silence for a long time, he knew she was thinking it over in her head. she finally spoke, "remember the yacht trip a few days ago?"
he exhaled deeply, his eyes clenching shut as he pursed his lips, "i'm an idiot," he muttered, pulling away partially.
" 's okay," she shrugged, looking up at him with big eyes.
he swore in his mind, if it weren't for the circumstances, he would've folded. he slowly blinked, his tongue gliding along his lower lip.
"it's not, darling. even if max and i were just messing around," he breathed in and out slowly, his hand caressing her pillow-marked face, "i'm sorry you felt that way, okay? you know, i love when you do it," he reassured, and he saw her eyes dilate when he did.
"really? but why?" she questioned him, scanning his face, eyes, body language for any hint of deceit. she found none.
"it tells me you're comfortable, baby, and that's all I want for you."
she listened for his tone. it was sincere.
and they stayed like that for a while. in each other's embrace, they knew all was well again as they talked through it some more.
"ow."
2K notes · View notes
otomestatus · 3 months
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Can you do a Matsuno Chifuyu request about the the reader aka his girlfriend being called by his last name? Like the other Toman boys love to call Chifuyu’s girlfriend by his last name to mess with them and their reactions changing over time etc (hope this made enough sense…)
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a/n: i think this kinda isn't great, but i had fun taking my time writing it. :3c
excuse me, that's not my name !
"oi, matsuno!"
you turn around instinctively to the sound of your boyfriend's last name being called, but he was nowhere in sight when you did. raising a brow, your head tilted slightly to the left as you made eye contact with two of his toman friends. mitsuya and mikey were grinning from ear to ear from their table at a cafe.
"told you she'd respond to it!" mikey snickered. this only left you further confused. hesitantly, you stepped towards their table and rested a hand on your hip, head lulled to the side as you shot them a befuddled stare.
"well yeah. i thought chifuyu was around." you frowned while mikey leaned back in his chair with that smirk you knew too well. it spelled mischief. something nagged you to turn and walk away, but against your better judgement you stayed put.
"nah, his wifey is though." mitsuya laughed-- lighthearted and teasing-- when the realization hit you. his arm rested on the back of his chair as his own smirk spread across his face. your cheeks burned hot with an embarrassment you hadn't felt since your friends caught onto your crush.
you sigh, "you're both unbelievable... don't stay that in front of him, got it?"
that would save you quite a bit of embarrassment, but as soon as the words rolled off your tongue you knew you more than likely ended up instigating further teasing.
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you were gonna kill them plain and simple. at least that's what you told yourself as you stood there, mortified and speechless. it wasn't just mitsuya and mikey anymore as the rest of the captains had gotten in on their little joke as well. the moment you arrived for the toman meeting as requested by chifuyu, smiley did not hesitate to call out to you with his signature grin.
"good to see ya, matsuno!" he waved to you from across the flood of toman members scattered about in front of their typical meeting spot. you whipped your head around in response, but this time it wasn't because you thought he was speaking to chifuyu. no, you had grown vigilant of their little joke, fearful they'd use it in front of other people just as smiley had.
emma, who stood beside you, also glanced towards the fourth division captain with a lukewarm glare, "they're children! i tried to stop mikey, but he never listens..."
you hadn't bothered to even wave back and chose to turn your attention back on emma, "they're getting ballsy. i don't know what i'm gonna do if they start doing it in front of him."
"doing what in front of me?" a voice spoke out behind you, causing you to jump and whip around to meet your boyfriends curious gaze. his head was cocked slightly to as side and he had his hands shoved into his pockets.
"oh, uh-" you stuttered, but you didn't even get a chance to finish your response. draken walked up to your trio with a smirk plastered on his stupid face. his incredibly stupid and idiotic face that definitely deserved to get punched especially because of what he said as soon as he stopped in front of you three.
"sup matsuno." he sent a quick salute your way.
"oh hey." chifuyu greeted him back, clueless.
"not you, i'm talkin' to your girl." the vice commander corrected. chifuyu stared at him for a moment as if not registering what he said at first.
"...but her last name isn't-" he began, then quickly shut his mouth. a reddish hue slowly crept onto his cheeks as he held draken's stare and realization sunk in slowly. the intent was hard to miss. especially as draken's smirk widened in mischief. he let out a laugh and pat chifuyu on the back before walking away to meet up with mikey.
"man, you two are too easy!"
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this little "joke" of theirs had continued on for another week. honestly, it seemed as if there was no end to it. the only toman member who didn't participate in it was takemichi which were you very grateful towards him for that. he could laugh whenever he heard it, yes, but he stuck to calling you by your name. well, if it embarrasses you why would i say it? and when he said that it made you think. was it really something to be so embarrassed about?
you rest your cheek against the palm of your hand that was being supported by your elbow. chifuyu sat across from you staring menacingly at his study notes. you studied the way his blonde hair fell over his forehead and the length of his lashes as his eyes focused on the notebook in front of him. the memories of that day were painted so vibrantly in your mind while you could hardly remember just what you had done yesterday.
in a secluded spot behind the school with a white envelope in your trembling fingers, you could only focus on your shoes blow you. your face, red and burning, and chifuyu standing in front of you. you never gave yourself the opportunity to look him directly in his face as the anxiety had rose to overwhelming levels. how fast could you make it to the girls bathroom on the first floor? your lunch threatened to reveal itself. and his response after an agonizing silence caught you off guard the most.
yes, you remember it very well, very vividly. since that day you both had been inseparable. your love for him only continued to blossom. so should it really be embarrassing to be referred to by his last name? if fate would be so kind perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to imagine a forever with him.
"huh? you okay?" chifuyu's voice snapped you back to reality. your cheeks flushed with a gentle pink as you dropped your pencil on your notebook.
"y-yeah. just thinking." you murmur in response.
chifuyu smiles, "yeah, me too! hey, so what did you get for number three?"
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it had become very natural to come with your boyfriend to his meetings even if you didn't go very often. it wasn't unusual by any means either. many other toman girlfriends also would show up and chat among each other. you were no different, but the hierarchy was clear even if it wasn't spoken. this meant your relationship with the vice-captain of the first division had some perks and drawbacks. boyfriends encouraged their girlfriends to mingle in an effort to build a reputation and possibly move through the ranks.
that's where you found yourself. not being surrounded really, but definitely being regarded quite frequently and this meeting was no different. toman members gathered in front of the musashi shrine and the girls flocked together to chat and catch up. you were deep in a conversation with emma when you heard someone call out to you.
"hey, takemitchy wants to get something to eat after the meeting. wanna come?" chifuyu strolled up, throwing his thumb back over his shoulder to point at takemichi who was engaged in conversation with draken.
"oh, sure." you lean slightly to the right to get a look at them before shooting a smile at your boyfriend.
"if it ain't the matsunos." hakkai calls out as he approaches the both of you.
"hakkai-!" chifuyu begins, but you cut him off with an unexpected response.
"oh, hey." you turn to face the taller boy fully.
hakkai appears dumbfounded for a second as this was clearly not the response he intended for. chifuyu was just as shocked. any irritation he felt had quickly melted away, but his cheeks remained pink.
chifuyu makes a face, "wha-?"
you turn your head slightly to meet his eyes, a wide smile spreading across your face, "what? you look confused!"
"yeah, well, you just- i mean- i thought you didn't like it when they called you that." he mumbled, his shoulders falling lax.
"mmm..." you put a finger to your chin in thought, "i guess i just don't see anything wrong with it anymore!"
chifuyu opens his mouth then shuts it. he's unable to conjure any words in response, but a grin breaks out on his face soon after. he chuckles, "oh, cool then."
you laugh at his response. hakkai stands there not sure what else to do but figure another roundabout way to tease you both. of course, you were far more focused on the elated expression your boyfriend wore after your interaction with him set in. yeah, it honestly wasn't so bad.
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the-song-of-avernus · 18 days
Text
I feel sorry for Orin
repurposed from an old Reddit post of mine
Raised from birth in the Bhaal cult and has never known ANYTHING else. Literally the result of incest between her mom and Sarevok (her father AND grandfather) - and for her entire life is actively manipulated and groomed to worship her "Grandfather" second only to Bhaal (leaving a disgusting implication that Sarevok might eventually try again). Literally every single day of her life spent in a murder cult, never knowing anything else.
Her mother is actively manipulated when Orin is seven to try to kill her daughter, only for Orin to reflexively kill her first, at which point Orin was briefly possessed by Bhaal himself (per some Sarevok dialogue). AT AGE SEVEN. And even from a young age, Orin's true gift is her artistry, a talent that outside the Bhaal cult probably could have been nurtured into something phenominal, but inside the cult is twisted into a sinisterness in the kill that, when she's out of earshot is decried as wasteful.
She eventually rises through the ranks (never have had any choice), having never felt a meaningful moment of compassion or kindness and, desperate to be cared about, sees the power and fear and respect her bloodkin (The Dark Urge) has gained and uses their hubris to take them out.
Ironically, in the timeline where Durge lives, they get a gift Orin couldn't even dream of - a 2nd chance. With their brain scrambled and the tadpole present but being interfered with, the Dark Urge got a chance to be someone new. (Whether they accept or reject that 2nd chance, they at least got a choice this time).
What did Orin get for her troubles? Her (grand)father openly coveted to either take her out, or worse, take her out - when the time was right, her own allies both detested her (Gortash openly revels at the idea of working with the Dark Urge again)
and most brutally, if you manage to confront her with the truth, any of it? About Sarevok, about her mother, etc? She immediately believes you. And for one (1) moment, maybe there's hope for her.
Hope that Bhaal immediately rips away; an Orin confronted with the truth and showing even the slightest hesitation is immediately forcibly transformed into the Slayer by Bhaal himself, with a strong implication that the core of the old Orin is gone forever win, lose, or draw. "No more doubts, no more fears, no more Orin. Become murder.". Seeing what Bhaal's reaction was the moment Orin had one (1) instant of hesitation also confirms that she'd likely have never had the chance to choose differently, either Bhaal would always step in or else she'd eventually meet her end.
Imagine the AU where Orin takes her CLEAR flair and artistic talent to become a truly great artist. Where she gets the same second chance that Durge got - If she'd been able to use her talent for impersonation and desire to great to do something powerful instead of being forced by her family from childhood into the family business of murder.
She literally never had a chance. Even Bane and Myrkul and their respective cults were never so unfathomably cruel, and she never knew anything else.
At least for my own first game, though, my Durge recognized that without her "sister," she'd have never gotten the chance to save the world, never met Shadowheart, never stopped a century worth of Ketheric's torture on Dame Aylin, never set in motion the liberation of the Githyanki...In the right world states, Orin unwittingly saved the world, but it's a world she'll never get to see or know, and probably never could have.
That's tragic as hell.
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swiftispunk · 1 month
Note
Han, bestie, I am obsessed with Your Summer Dream. It is seriously the best DBF!Joel fic I have come across. Because I am such a sap can I ask how they spent their first Valentine’s Say together since it’s tomorrow? Like what did they do? What did they get each other? Did they try anything kinky? 👀
non, i love you so much, thank you for reading and for loving ysd <3
i wouldn't call this a proper fic or anything...just some random thoughts about these two on valentine's day. i hope you like!
your summer dream, valentine's day thoughts
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pairing: dad's buddy!joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 1.7k warnings: fluff, consumption of alcohol, alternating pov, smut, bondage (come on handcuffs), unprotected piv, oral (m+f), ass play (it's them), and food play (whipped cream is either dairy or non-dairy in this - you decide). no use of y/n.
Joel has gotten pretty damn good at reading at you, if he does say so himself. Not that you're all that hard to read. But it's painfully clear to him, when he asks if you want to do anything for Valentine's Day, that something about the question irks you. A grumbled response followed by a sudden, loaded silence, your fingers flying to the seashell around your neck like the feeling of it under your touch will anchor you somehow.
And he's no fool, he can put two and two together. No doubt you're thinking of your ex, and Joel shudders to think how much that kid must have fucked this day up to make you react like that. He doesn't pry. But he does start to plan.
See, for Joel, Valentine's Day was never about romantic love. It was about forcing himself to wake up early for once to leave chocolate hearts in Sarah's cereal bowl before she came down to breakfast. It was about helping his little girl hand write each one of her classmate's valentines, usually in a frenzied rush on the night of February 13. It was about sneaking one for himself just so he could slip it into Sarah's lunch box and imagine how she'd smile when she found it. That's all he wants for you - that's all he ever wants for you - to see you smile and know he'd had a hand in it.
-
Joel Miller doesn't do surprises all that well. But he's trying, and you love that. He might have been able to keep his plans a secret had he not offhandedly suggested you book the 15th off work for "no reason," very poorly ignoring your side-eye from across the centre console of his truck. So you'd known he'd been up to something, but nothing could have prepared you for what.
He's got supermarket flowers on the counter when you get home from work, calling out a greeting to you from the bedroom. You find him there, duffle bag open on his mattress, looking all flustered and giddy when he tells you he's already packed your pyjamas and your toothbrush and your swimsuit but that he doesn't know "what all make-up or whatever" you need and you're just standing there in the doorway, charmed to absolute death like, "Well, neither do I unless you tell me where we're going." And all he gives in response is, "Not far, nothin' crazy."
He's a picked dress for you, you discover, some flouncy little pink number you haven't worn since...well, since Costa Rica. He's already packed it away along with your singular pair of "nice shoes" and it probably shouldn't turn you on so much that Joel is literally choosing your outfit for you and yet...you think he might be the only man on Earth who could get away with something like that. It's kind of hot to let him call the shots. To, for once, not have to think so much about things.
Of course, you've got him a present too, but you keep that to yourself for now.
He's not lying; it's not far and it's not crazy, just a nice hotel in downtown Austin, chocolates on the sheets and sparkling wine in an ice bath. Reservations at one of your favourite restaurants. He looks so handsome with his hair pushed back, dark green button-down, dark black jeans, dark brown eyes in dark restaurant lighting. His fingers alternate between brushing your thigh and caressing your inner wrists and he seems to be deliberately trying to drive you fucking crazy.
As much as you insist against it, he pays for dinner, and frankly, you're far too eager to get back to your hotel room to argue about it.
-
Joel is impatient too. And nervous. And fucking hard.
You may not know what he's got planned, but he certainly does. And he's been struggling to think of anything else all evening. You share a shower and it's all soft touches and wet kisses and his cock pressing into your thigh, your body literally melting against his and afterwards, he feels a bit less nervous. Your gaze is a little foggy and your breaths are coming a little shorter and he's sure you're wet by now but he fights the urge to touch your pussy because tonight...tonight is about patience. Tonight is about indulgence.
-
As much as you've made a home for yourself at Joel's place these past few months...there's something about a hotel room that feels infinitely more familiar. You're glad Joel chose this.
You wait on the big, cushy bed with a robe around your body and watch Joel emerge from the bathroom, curls still damp, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. He rummages in the mini fridge (had he put something in there?), then he rummages in his duffle bag (what the fuck is he plotting?), then he finally kneels on the bed before you with both hands behind his back and a roguish little smirk.
-
He starts with the cuffs, they make him less nervous; you've already said you want this. He gets exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for when he presents them, all pink and fluffy, from behind his back: a widening of your eyes and a hitch of your breath, an instantaneous nodding of your head. So willing it makes his cock ache.
He tells you to get naked and you do so without question. Laid out all bare and open, he's sure he must be the luckiest man in the entire goddamn world. You welcome the cuffs around your wrists, all soft and pliant and trusting while you let him mould you into a position of his choosing, arms above your head. He carefully conceals his other surprise until you're comfortably restrained.
-
Bound and yearning, you watch him expectantly. Suddenly he's trying to play it cool, muttering some shit like seein' as it's Valentine's Day... as he retrieves the canister of whipped cream he'd been hiding. You can't help it, you burst into a fit of laughter and Joel laughs too, shakes his head, maybe a little embarrassed. But also still noticeably hard and not exactly backing down.
It's corny - it's so corny - you both laugh and laugh about how corny it is but ultimately...this is Joel. And you'll try anything with Joel.
And no surprise, it's fucking hot as hell. You give into it the instant he traces a line of whipped cream up your navel and licks his way along it, up between your breasts till his lips find yours. Sugary and sticky, his kiss dissolves you, and you are fully at his mercy.
He toys with you, calls you his good girl while he decorates every inch if your skin with cream and thoroughly licks you clean. You squirm when he dances his tongue over your perked nipples, moan when he scoops a dollop of cream onto two of his fingers and slips them between your lips.
"Wanna eat it off your dick, Joel," you tell him and oh - he likes that idea. Quickly readjusting your restraints so your wrists are connected behind your back, he at last removes his briefs and perches on the edge of the bed, guides you down to your knees and says, "Open your mouth," only to squeeze a small amount of whipped cream onto your tongue before slowly feeding you his cock.
And that's fun - but when he pulls you off him, you pout. "I said I wanted to eat it off your cock." Joel chuckles but grants your wish, shaking the can with a devilish grin before drawing a line of cream from his tip down to his base - "Go on, then."
And you do, lapping first at the sweet stuff around his tip. The curious flavour it creates when it mixes with the heady salt of his precum is so stupidly erotic it makes you throb. You wish you could touch yourself.
Joel lets you work him until his cock is clean, slick and sweet and glistening with saliva.
-
After that, Joel's patience finally expires. He helps you back into bed just so he can manhandle you onto your knees, press your chest into the mattress and eat your pussy from behind. It's his favourite way to eat you out, especially like this, with your hands still confined behind your back. Fully his.
You come like that, fairly quickly too. Maybe it had been all the build up. Maybe it had been the way he'd let his tongue wander over your asshole so he could eat you there too; he fucking loves how crazy that makes you.
-
You're just a sticky-wet puddle by the time he finally fucks you, big hand curling around the back of your neck, holding you flush against the sheets until his frame crashes down on you altogether and you're fully prone beneath him. And it's kind of romantic, you think, his body weight smothering you, thick cock buried inside you, rasped whispers in your ear...it's just like the first time. All these months later and it's just like that first time.
Unlike that first time though, he actually comes inside you, painting your insides instead of your skin. He frees your wrists and kisses each one turn, tells you how good and sweet and perfect you are until the words stop sounding like words.
Another shower, a dip in the hotel pool, a quick night cap at the bar downstairs and then you're back in bed, settling in for TV and snuggles and - undoubtedly - round two.
And of course - presents.
For Joel, custom guitar picks with his initials embossed on the celluloid and a few previously promised Polaroids of the two of you together (which he immediately stows in his wallet).
For you, a book you'd said you wanted nearly a month ago now - never mind the hotel and the dinner and the flowers and the goddamn handcuffs. There's also a personalized card with a handwritten message that you're not ashamed to say makes you tear up. Well, one line in particular:
I'm yours and you're mine...one day at a time.
You curl up in hotel bed sheets, let your eyes slip closed as you savour the safety, the intimacy, the undeniable nostalgia of it all.
"I do okay?" he asks as you begin to drift to sleep.
"More than okay," you vow, nuzzling into the column of his neck. "Thank you, Joel."
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syrma-sensei · 6 months
Text
→ Home.
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gif credit.
pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.
rating: fluff, implied smut.
warning: bens's pov, very soft ben, implied pregnant sex, praising, horny reader, antiquated mentality....
word count: 2.4k
summary: ben's discovering new life affairs while expecting his first baby.
tagging: @zepskies
→ masterlist | ao3
Soldier Boy guzzled down his third raw drink before he decided to call it a day and go home. He took off his supe gear and changed into more casual clothes in the dressing room in his quarters at Vought's tower after he took a quick shower. He shook his head with a sneer when he tugged the shirt above his head, remembering her telling him —bossing him— that he wasn't to come home stinking with blood and cigars and whiskey and Vought. Soldier Boy didn't take shit from anyone, but he found himself helpless against her wishes—orders. He was grinning though, amusedly so. Sometimes he wondered where his obedient and good wife went. He liked that version of her, nonetheless.
Though he liked to think that his baby was igniting her wild spirit, his pretty wife seemed to have gotten quite sensitive to strong scents, and her stomach grew weak ever since he got her pregnant with their first child four months ago. It was chiselled in his mind; the memory of her hoping onto his chest with happy shrieks when he returned from work affirming the news.
He had been sensing the baby's presence for a week thanks to his superhuman senses before that, and he'd told her that night to go check on it with a doctor. They were eagerly trying to have a baby so it was of no surprise, but it still pulled a huge smile on his lips and made pride swell in his chest. He was going to be a father in nine months. The thing he wanted to be the most.
But as it turned out, pregnancy wasn't as magical as his mind fantasised to be. It wasn't all fuzzy and beautiful like he imagined. He cursed the damn commercials for that. Fucking marketing.
The first couple of months were rough. Morning sickness, vomiting, ungodly cravings at ungodly hours, horrendous mood swings, and worst of all; minimum intimacy. She'd become fragile unlike her nature. And she got overly concerned that he might hurt the baby whenever he suggested penetrative sex. Orals were, certainly, out of the equation. It was both frustrating and maddening to say the least. He was a fucking man and had needs. The best he could get was quick and not so enthusiastic handies from time to time when she could provide. Long story short, he was growing blue balls from the ordeal. Fuck, he used to make fun of men who couldn't get laid properly. The irony had such an impact on his ego; his pride of being a fucking man.
It was not easy for someone like him to stay faithful to his partner. He rarely recognised commitment before he met her, and being surrounded by blatant temptations all the time didn't make things any better. He could have anyone at any time, ladies would eagerly kneel and suck him off without a question if he wanted them to. But he'd be damned if he wasn't in charge of his own self. He'd be damned if he dared to break her heart. He'd be damned if he ruined his family, a family he never thought he'd ever have, for such vagaries.
In time, however, pregnancy did prove itself to be the most beautiful of all affairs. Surprisingly so. Whenever he spooned her up hugging her from behind, he found odd tranquillity of hearing hers and the babe's rhythmical heartbeats, or when he caressed her bumping tummy, feeling his child's life forming inside of her body, a creature they both made, lack of sex seemed to be durable and trivial at some point. Something he himself wouldn't believe before. But here he was. His disgust and appal from what pregnancy entailed gradually dissipated and were replaced with zeal and thrill. And most certainly, he enjoyed the changes of her body the most. Ben just loved the way her boobs were swelling up with milk, and the way her stomach was flourishing with his child. Boob massage was something he greatly took pleasure in. Kneading her sore breasts while hearing her moans of relief. He'd come to learn that intimacy could be found in many other things than sex.
Ben noticed he'd come to hating every moment he spent away from them. His temper got much worse, his teammates observed. And he became more aggressive than he already was when fighting crime. The happiest moment of his day was when he dropped the shield and took the helmet off to head home, where his beautiful wife would be eagerly waiting to have dinner with him even though most of the nights he'd come home and find her dozing off on the couch where she'd been waiting for him. He'd carry her to their bedroom and have dinner by himself — he skipped that very often — then slip right behind her on the bed holding her close to his body. The concept of coming back home to someone was so much alluring to him. He felt his life was complete. Real.
Ben arrived at their penthouse, assuming he'd find her soundly sleeping while she stayed awaiting him. He didn't announce his return loudly as he used to do before the pregnancy. He didn't want to wake her up. But much to his surprise — and delight, Ben found the place dimly lit with scented candles, sensuous silence prevailing within the air.
Ben's eyes glimmered, and an instant wolfish grin slipped into his lips when his eyes landed on his wife's figure as she clambered down the stairs. A thin, short gown with a raunchy red colour hugged her frame, its fabric was so thin that he could see her skin glowing through the red. Her breasts were full, putting her cleavage on more display. Whereas the bump of her belly was deliciously visible. Her hair was neatly styled and spruced up and her pretty face was elegantly painted with make-up.
“Welcome home, Ben,” She warbled with a smile, eyes filled with sultry desire as she strolled down to him. He was dazzled by her appearance, he was practically eating her with his eyes. Fuck, pregnancy did make her much prettier. “Hope you didn't have dinner yet 'cause I made you something special tonight.”
Her palm grazed his stubbled cheek. Ben leaned into her touch, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm, a grin gracing his mouth. “'Course I didn't. Why the fuck would I eat outside when I have a capable wife like you at home?”
She giggled gleefully at his statement as he pulled her flush against his body. He eyed her with a hazed gaze. Her mouth was luring him in, deliciously so. He liked that lipstick shade on her lips so much. He couldn't but to give in to the utter temptation. Ben tilted his head down and captured them in a burning kiss. An instant moan escaped her throat as his mouth passionately pressed to hers. Her arms encircled his neck, hands combing through his brown hair. He synced their heads for a better angle, and deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into her warm mouth. His hands brushed her sides then her ass.
He broke the kiss momentarily and she gasped vehemently. He could hear the rapid pace of her heart and the gushing blood through her vein, pooling down in her groin. He crushed her lips again, hands travelling up to remove the dress but she squealed and pulled back.
“Benjamin, dinner's gonna get cold!” She laughed again when he buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin softly.
“Is that really what you're fucking concerned about now?” He grumbles in a teasing tone.
She giggled, “Should I be concerned about something else—woah!” Ben grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly, heading to the living room with her pretty legs around his hips. His lips plundering hers again all the way until they reached the couch where he sat with her straddling his lap. The kiss went wild once they settled comfortably on the couch. His big hands stroked her thighs ardently. They trailed up to her ass giving it a firm squeeze and she moaned in his mouth, plucking the rim of her satin panties. He smirked into the kiss, fingers tracing down to her core. His grin widened when he met her bare cunt.
“Oh, baby,” He rasps when she rolls her hips slowly, pressing her cunt on his clothed cock, “Aren't you a pretty fucking tease?” He tugged at the lip of the crotchless panties, a mischievous grin playing on his mouth.
She guffawed with a coquettish tilt of her head, and his cock twitched in an immediate response. However, the innocent look on her face opposed the tortuous pace of her hips. She was fucking tantalising him with those hips. And he fucking liked it despite the screaming urge growing in his chest to flip her over and fuck her raw. Oh, she did like it rough, the little slut. She liked to be beneath him and beg him to go harder and faster, to yank her hair and make her choke on his dick. She loved how he manhandled her with his superhuman strength despite being only a human, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't take great pleasure in it too. Ben's nothing if doesn't live to be in charge. He'd been shocked that a tiny woman like her could handle him as such. But he was quick to remember that she was with his fucking child. He couldn't go rough on her like he used to do even if they both craved it.
She didn't stop her torment as her delicate hands rested on his shoulders for support. He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal soaking his crotch and he growled, “Holy fuck, you gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, or you planning on making me cream my pants?”
Her lips twisted wickedly, “Depends,”
“On fucking what?” He grunted, brows furrowed, puzzled. He was way too hard and drunk by her scent to clearly think or read between her lines, “Baby, you're fucking killing me here.”
“Aw, am I to seal the greatest era of America's history?” She giggled again, “What an honour.”
Then it clicked. The fucking slut. She was tempting him to ravish her. Maybe he should, but again, he worried about her and the child. Because honestly, he wasn't so sure if he could restrain himself if he unbridled that side of his.
Then his mouth splitted in a huge grin, brushing his cheek to hers to grumble in her ear, “The only honour you're gonna get is milking my cock empty in that slutty pussy of yours.” He chuckled triumphantly when he sensed her shivering in delight. Leaning his head backward, he saw her chewing on her lower lip adorably with a cute pinkish red dusting across her face, whereas her eyes were searing with covetousness. Ben pecked her nose and lifted her up again, gently. She trilled a series of choppy laughters and playfully kicked her legs when he carried her to their bedroom.
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Needless to say, she took whatever honour he bestowed upon her like a champ.
He was craving a whiff of a cigar. He used to smoke after a good fuck in bed, she'd even share him a couple of drags sometimes. But since it was off the table — temporarily — he focused on and enjoyed her fingers running on his chest.
Fuck, pregnant sex did feel amazing. He gotta admit. He did hear from here and there that a woman with child, at some point of her pregnancy, would be touched by sudden and high libidinousness. But fuck, didn't that catch him off guard. And fuck, if he didn't enjoy it down to the last minute detail. And dare he say, it was the best sex he ever had. It was perfect; she was perfect.
Never did he think that he'd find home, his real home in a simple elementary school teacher he met on one of his tours throughout the country. A beautiful and smart woman who always kept him on his toes and had him wrapped around her pretty fingers.
Ben smiled and kissed the crown of her head, and slowly, it turned into a trail of kisses down her face. Then he captured her lips, and soon enough, they were engaging in a heated make-out session.
“Ben,” She whispered as she gazed at him, voice a bit hoarse from screaming and crying beneath him for hours.
His hand was rubbing circles on her ass languidly, “What is it, dollface?” He drawls with a thick voice.
“Sorry for not being a good wife for you the last couple of months.” She said meekly, bringing his hands to cradle them in hers, while he just frowned at her words, “They were tough times on me, on us.” She sighed, pressing light kisses on his rough hands, “But everything's gonna be set right again, I promise.”
Ben's frown only got deeper when he noticed the lick of fear and desperation in her eyes and voice. Fuck, she was scared shitless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His wife was scared if he was screwing around on her because of her lack of attention due to the pregnancy, for she used to shower him with doting and devotion as a good wife did. Fuck, did he, by any mean, do anything wrong to arise such qualms in her? He certainly did not. Then he fucking remembered that nasty reputation of his that proceeded him.
Fuck, gotta reassure her and chill her the fuck down. He can't have her in such a position. He can't have his home in such a precarious, dark place. Not after what the two of them had done to build what they had up. He wouldn't allow it.
“Hey,” He passed rough-padded thumbs under the lines of her eyes, palms caressing her cheeks, “Nothing went fucking wrong to set back right, sweetheart,” Then he gave her belly tender strokes, “You're an amazing wife,”
She was; everyday she woke up, five in the morning, to prepare him a delicious-ass breakfast. She took it upon herself to be his barber and shaved his beard almost everyday and trimmed his hair every now and then. She was patient when he wasn't. She embraced him when he was practically a walking ticking bomb. She patched him up — when needed — at night when he'd return to her roughed up from fighting crimes. She soothed him down when frustrated and angry. She took his bad temper and relieved it thoroughly. She was everything. She was home.
Ben's finger flicked her nose playfully, “As I'm fucking sure yer gonna be an amazing hot momma,”
Ah, here it was, the sheepish smile that reached her eyes. He'd fucking cherish it forever.
He kissed her forehead, “You're perfect; my perfect wife, my perfect home.”
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thatfandomslut · 2 months
Text
Soft For You
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Regina George x Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Trigger Warning: heart palpitating fluff- be safe out there. There is also mentions of bullying towards the reader in this fic, brief moment of feeling claustrophobic, feelings of insecurity.
Request:
Do you think you could do a fic where Regina is the Queen B and everything but y/n is her soft spot
Mean Girls requests are open.
In the dictionary, if someone located the name 'Regina George,' they might read 'the biggest HBIC to ever grace the halls of North Shore High School.' Regina was stone cold with icy blue eyes to match her rigid exterior. She didn't care if she hurt someone's feelings, nor did she care who anyone was at North High unless they were Gretchen, Karen, Cady, or the only person who was allowed to see her complex side, (Y/n). (Y/n) was the human personification of ADHD, and she somehow managed to catch the attention and affection of the school's ice queen, Regina.
If someone were to look at (Y/n) with any hint of a funny expression, Regina was telling them off. She felt like (Y/n) needed her protection. So, she was there to offer it, even when (Y/n) didn't ask. (Y/n) also didn't mind Regina defending her if someone said something mean to her as she was not a confrontational person. She tried to stay on everyone's good side, but sadly that task was easier said than done because somehow, (Y/n) seemed to have gotten on the wrong side of the girl's soccer captain, Tammy Schneider.
They were in their shared English class when the two got paired up, and Tammy seemed less than pleased with the idea. (Y/n) didn't understand why, so she tried to start on their writing assignment, but Tammy wasn't responding to her well. "I'm sorry, but have I done something to offend you? I'm just trying to get this assignment done." (Y/n) tapped the pencil in her hand on her brainstorming paper as she tried to figure the girl out. She wasn't too sure what she might've done to Tammy since the two had never had a real conversation before.
Tammy shrugged with narrowed eyes, causing (Y/n)'s frown to deepen. "I just personally think you're nothing special. Regina George parades you around like you're made of gold, but for what? Your only prospects are English and History. Your looks are mediocre, nothing like the other Plastics." Tammy commented with her nose in the air. (Y/n) was surprised by the girl's answer. She had already been insecure over topics such as these, but no one was brave enough to talk to her the way Tammy had. "But, whatever, Regina can date a loser, but many of us are still confused as to why." She said simply, ignoring the hurt on (Y/n)'s face as the girl stared at her paper.
(Y/n) was thankful for the bell ringing, dismissing her from the class. Usually, she'd wait for Gretchen, who shared that class with her. Today, she had gathered up her papers, stuffed them into her bag, and escaped the room she was starting to feel claustrophobic in. Swallowing thickly as she made her way into the bathroom she went to the sink to splash some water on her face. She had to calm herself down before she met with the other girls during lunch. She couldn't cry, or her eyes would be puffy, and Regina would know something was off. (Y/n) breathed in deeply hearing the ping in her bag that alerted her to a new message.
'Hey, where did you go? Are we just meeting in the cafeteria?'
(Y/n) rubbed at the eye that was watering before responding to Gretchen, apologizing for leaving so abruptly. She made up an excuse of leaving an item in another classroom before confirming that they would meet in the cafeteria. (Y/n) adjusted her cardigan before removing then reapplying some of the makeup she had damaged when she had initially teared up. Her cheeks were still a bit flushed, but she could use the excuse of running to another classroom for that. (Y/n) finally deemed her appearance significant enough to leave the restroom before heading to meet Regina, Gretchen, Karen, and Cady for lunch.
"Hey, princess," (Y/n) greeted Regina first, placing a soft kiss on Regina's temple. She felt dumb doing that now. Regina probably secretly felt disgusted after feeling her lips on anywhere on her face. Due to that sudden thought, she felt queasy and lost her appetite. Still, she made sure to eat, knowing that it was important to keep her energy up. After all, she had softball after school and she needed all the energy she could get so she could pretend Tammy was the yellow ball hurtling toward her that she smacked into the outfield. "Hey, Gretchen, Karen, Cady."
Regina recognized the tremble in her voice as she examined her girlfriend's body language. She didn't want to say anything in front of the other girls, though. She didn't know if this was a private feeling, or if she'd rather share. So, she ultimately decided to ask her after lunch to provide a safe space for (Y/n) to communicate her feelings.
"Will you walk me to my car after you eat? I think I've left something in there, and I don't want to go alone." Regina inquired casually. She didn't want to draw any attention to the situation. She knew how observant Gretchen was. It was one of the reasons she actually appreciated Gretchen as a friend, even if she struggled to show it. When (Y/n) smiled, biting into her sandwich, Regina grinned. "Perfect! Thank you, baby girl."
Gretchen made a little thoughtful noise. "Everyone is forgetting something today. Just before lunch, (Y/n) left something in her last class period." She spoke thoughtfully, causing (Y/n) and Regina to look over. Sometimes, Gretchen was too observant for her own good. This was the best example of that. Sometimes, with how observant she was, she tended to make comments that made those she was observing hoping she would stop connecting dots. Like, now, for example,
Regina and (Y/n) left the table shortly after, when (Y/n) finished her lunch. "What's on your mind?" Regina questioned when they made to their Jeep, away from everyone in the cafeteria. Not many people hung out in the parking lots during lunch. "You look upset about something, and I want to be here for you," Regina spoke softly as she cupped her cheek gently.
This seemed to be what broke whatever dam (Y/n) had put into place. Her eyes instantly watered, and Regina quickly took her into her arms. "Tammy Schneider implied that I wasn't good enough for the Plastics and you." She admitted, trying to stop herself from crying. She felt pathetic and insecure, despite Regina's caring hold on her as she cried in her shoulder. She hated feeling less than, and she constantly worked on not feeling this way, but sometimes it only took a few mean comments to send her down a rabbit hole.
Regina had stiffened at the realization of someone being mean to (Y/n). Pulling away, she used her thumbs to gently wipe away the cascading tears on (Y/n)'s cheeks. "You need to listen to me, okay?" She waited to see (Y/n) nod as she sniffled under Regina's touch. "You need to know that I have never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. You mean the world to me. You're kind, strong, and smart. I enjoy how you can talk about anything and everything. I am so soft for you that it's completely altered my personality. I am a better person when I'm with you. With that said, I will be grinding Tammy into sand." Regina stated, fire in her eyes as she kissed (Y/n)'s forehead.
(Y/n) smiled a bit, leaning into Regina's touch, her ever-looming insecurity lifting. "You make me a better person, too, Regina. Thank you for making me feel better. I don't think grinding Tammy into sand will make the situation better though." (Y/n) admitted, even if a small part of her would pay to see Tammy even attempt to step up to Regina's plate.
There was a small smirk that played on Regina's lips. "It'd make me feel better. And judging your little smile, you're not too opposed to that idea." Regina teased as (Y/n) laughed, nudging the girl gently. "Maybe I'm not too opposed," (Y/n) admitted, before kissing Regina softly. Regina kissed back happily, already plotting Tammy's demise.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
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Redemption
Sam Kerr x Hardersson!Reader
Millie Bright x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Sam redeems herself
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Magda opens the door on a random Saturday afternoon.
"Can y/n come out to play?"
Sam's standing outside the door and Millie, Guro and Erin are waiting by the brick wall.
Magda has to smother her laughter. It does look like a bunch of naughty kids trying to get their friend's mother to let their friend go out and cause mischief with them.
Sam's holding a helmet.
Magda looks at her suspiciously. "Why? What are you planning?"
Sam looks back at the others helplessly. The three of them whisper to each other before Millie approaches the front gate with a little bike.
"You didn't," Magda groans," Tell me you didn't."
"It was Sam!" Guro yells.
"Is it your life mission to injure my child?" Magda asks dryly," Because you're doing very well."
"Kristie picked it out!" Sam says quickly," I called her in the store! And, I picked up a helmet and same pads. I promise we'll be careful."
"She doesn't know how to ride a bike. You'll have to teach her."
"We will!"
"Hmm." Magda looks over them all suspiciously. "If she comes back with even a little scrape then all of your playdates have to be supervised. Agreed?"
"Agreed!"
"Princesse! Your friends are here to see you!"
In a matter of minutes, you're ready to go. You take Millie's hand and she and the others take you to the park that you train with Zećira at.
"Okay," Millie says," Safety first."
She helps you into the helmet, tightening it nice and tight and then pulling on your elbow and knee pads.
Sam stands a little bit further away. She'd called Kristie the day after she accidentally poisoned you with kiwi and was warned to keep a little distance from you if Jessie wasn't around to keep you safe.
"Right," Erin says," Now get on."
You look at the bike. Guro's holding it upright and you inspect it.
It's two tones of red. One is a more orangey style of red while the other is a kind of maroon red. It looks pretty cool but you're still a little worried so you grip Millie's hand nice and tight.
She leads you over and you poke at a few things before getting on. Momma and Morsa have been promising to get you a bike for a while now but said that it's an after-winter thing so you don't fall on the ice or something.
You think it's kind of cool that Millie, Guro, Erin and Sam have gotten you one early.
You get on.
Erin points at a few things. "There are the brakes. You have to do them gently or you'll go flying off the bike. And these are the pedals. You have to pump your legs very fast, okay?"
You nod. "Okay."
Millie moves behind you to grasp the back. "I'm not going to let go. You just need to pedal, alright?"
You let Guro show you where the hold the handles and then how to get the pedals moving. You go slowly at first because Momma always warns you that you need to start slow on new things.
Millie remains behind you like she said she would and she's gently tell you when to start breaking and when to pedal a bit harder. Guro and Erin jog next to you while Sam stays at the very back.
"Very good!"
You give a Guro a high five as you dismount.
You like your new bike. It's very fun but the seat is a little weird but that's just something you'll have to get used to. Momma and Morsa can both ride bikes and when you were much littler, Momma told you that she used to strap you to her chest so you could ride with them.
You think that's cool but you're much too big for that now so it'll be nice to ride one by yourself.
Guro helps you back on and teasingly taps your helmet. "Working!" She confirms as you giggle," Got to keep that genius brain of yours intact!"
You don't recognise one of those words and furrow your brow. "What's genius mean?"
"Someone who's very smart," Millie says as she tucks your feet under the little straps over the pedals," Like you."
You think for a moment. "But I'm not smart."
"You are," Guro insists, bobbing her head up and down like you see the seagulls do at the beach," Because you can speak so many languages."
You don't really understand that. Languages are easy and Morsa once told you smart people are people that can learn and do lots of hard things. Languages are easy though so you're not that smart because what you can do isn't difficult.
"You're like a sponge," Erin says.
"I'm not a sponge!"
"It's a good thing," Millie promises you," It means you suck up all the information we give you and it stays in your head."
You fall silent to think again. Maybe you are like a sponge. Momma says you have a very good memory and having a good memory is exactly what Millie's just described.
"Hmm," You say, not agreeing or denying because you don't know which response is correct. You don't like being wrong so sometimes it's better to just say nothing when grown-ups are being confusing.
"Should we have another go?" Guro asks," I'll stay at the back!"
"No fair!" Erin complains," I wanted to help!"
Guro sticks her tongue out at Erin and you giggle as she takes the spot that Millie used to be in.
Millie hangs back with Sam as Guro and Erin start pushing you along. Your feet are pumping furiously to get up to speed.
"It's was awful," Sam laments as she jogs lightly with Millie at the very back," The look on Kristie's face when she found out!" She buries her face in her hands. "She's never going to trust me with kids again. She told me if anything ever happens to y/n because of me again, she'll kill me! They've not even met in person!"
"Mate," Millie snickers," She'll have to get here quick if she's planning to beat out Magda."
Sam groans again. "It was awkward knocking on there door. She made me feel like I was a kid again."
"It's the Mum stare." Millie shivers at the thought. "It's terrifying and Magda had all that time before y/n and Pernille even moved in. I hate to think about how well Pernille's perfected it."
Sam shivers now too. It's one thing to see Magda angry, that's expected but she rues the day that someone gets Pernille angry enough to explode.
She looks over to where you and the others are and then freezes.
There's a long patch of ice on the path that you swerve into uncontrollably and you lose control of your new bike. That wouldn't be a problem on its own but Erin and Guro both get totally wiped out by the ice and tumble into each other.
"Oh, shit."
Sam barely hears Millie's words as she takes off into a sprint, making sure to stay on the grass borders rather than the stone path. You've got a good distance on her (and you're also going down a slight incline) but you're still only little so it's not too far to catch up.
In your blind panic, you've forgotten about your brakes and, honestly, Sam's kind of glad. If you slammed them on now, you'd probably go headfirst over your handlebars and land painfully on the ground.
"Whoa!"
Sam manages to get in front (barely) and grabs onto the front of your bike. You're still going pretty fast, a combination of the little hill and the ice, so the bike slams into her groin.
It's painful but Sam can't really feel it as she's focused on you.
Millie's further away, helping Guro and Erin to their feet as Sam wheels the bike onto the grass and helps you off.
You're panting a little bit but not crying so she counts it as a win. You look back at where you lost control of it all, your shoulders falling and rising quickly.
You move into Sam's arms, burying your head into her neck like you would do with Momma and Morsa if they were here.
"Hey," Sam says softly, drawing you in and rubbing your back," It's okay. It's okay."
You nod. It's a barely noticeable movement but you're pressed up so close to Sam that it almost feels like you want to hide away under her skin.
"It's alright. Hey, you did so well for your first try. So well. I know it got scary pretty fast but that's okay. Next time, we'll go somewhere with no ice. Does that sound good?"
You nod again.
"Let's get you home."
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