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#haven't spoken about this in a while so i should say again:
tyrannuspitch · 1 year
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thinking about a sentiment i've seen expressed once or twice about loki's change of manner in the loki show - specifically, that you can make it in-character if you just read it as: he has "dropped the royal persona" and what we see now is "the real loki".
and like... i don't know. like sure valid reading whatever. but it honestly makes me kind of uncomfortable, and just, like... sad.
like... there wasn't anything wrong with his mannerisms before. like, sure, he was (and is.) paranoid and insecure, but i really don't think that being quiet and deliberate in how you express yourself in general is necessarily unhealthy, or that being louder and less careful is necessarily an improvement.
it kind of reminds me of like... when people call RP a "fake"/"artificial"/"made-up" accent? like, yes, social pressures mean a lot of people put it on, exaggerate it, cultivate it, et cetera... but at the end of the day it is still just another accent. it is still some people's mother tongue, and therefore, by most people's standards, those people's most authentic voice.
and like, similarly - just because loki has xyz trauma reasons to be quiet and formal doesn't mean that his ideal self is necessarily not quiet and formal. some people just are that way! some people prefer it! this is a real personality trait that exists! and honestly even if it IS unhealthy, after a certain point, things like that can go so deep into your personality that you can't really untangle them, and if you DO want to change them, you're not uncovering a hidden "real you" so much as inventing a new one.
also i feel like pre-ragnarok we were definitely meant to understand loki's mannerisms as being as much a product of culture as of his specific personality or home life, and the way almost everyone treats ragnarok asgardian mannerisms as "realer" because they're closer to (/basically are) modern anglo-american norms also makes me uncomfortable... but it might be somewhat unfair to put this on the loki show when they were already three movies deep in ragnarok canon. (but also. loki's outward manner is much *more* changed in the loki show than in ragnarok itself.)
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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part one
TW: nsfw, dubcon, blackmail
fem reader
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As promised, you receive the pictures in the mail while the payment is forwarded almost emmidiatly. You don’t know which makes you gawk more, the photos of you or the numbers.
You also get an email—an invitation. The photographer is asking you to dinner. Or, asking is putting it nicely—which he most certainly didn’t. It’s phrased like a notice from your boss—matter-of-factly, he’s picking you up at eight, wear something nice.
You think about declining, but then you think about your friend again and how you don’t want to cause her any trouble. A free dinner isn’t really all that bad, is it?
It’s worse, actually.
“You should have told me you didn’t have anything to wear. I would have lent you something,” is the first thing he says when you get in his car. He hadn’t opened the door for you or anything, just sat in the driver’s seat waiting.
And though your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you think you’re foolish for it. You hadn't really dressed to impress him, after all—something you might as well tell him, “Maybe I just didn’t feel like dressing up. You didn’t exactly leave a good impression last time we met, so I don’t believe I owe you anything.”
He scoffs with a grin—face turned towards the road as he starts driving. “You have a lot more bite without your friend.”
“She has too much respect for you.” You cross your arms and look out the window. 
“That’s for sure.” You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t offer any more of a response. You’re glad to spend the rest of the drive in silence.
You feel underdressed at the restaurant. You hadn’t thought he’d take you somewhere so nice. Most of the other couples there are dressed as if for a gala, while you’re dressed as if you’re going to an office party.
He hasn’t tried too hard himself. But still, he fits in—fat watch on his wrist, kempt hair, neat shoes, dress trousers, and a silk shirt with one too many buttons undone—a nauseating skinny chain beneath the collar as well as the hint of a chest tattoo. You bet it’s one of those dumb tribal inks, probably with some mundane Japanese characters he doesn’t know the meaning of.
“Is this where you undermine all the models desperate for your recognition?” you sigh as you sit down.
“We haven't even gotten our menus, and you’re already causing a scene?” 
He’s the one who was rude the moment you got in the car. In fact, he was rude the minute you met him. “Might as well speed this along.”
He chuckles—his smile genuinely amused instead of angered the way you’d imagined—the way you’d remembered from last time when he sent girls crying. “You know, for a face like that, you have one hell of a tongue.”
He orders wine by the name with ease and swiftness before returning to what he was saying.
“I like that. Most models are dull, but not you.”
“I don’t agree. And I’m a model,” you snip, showing no interest in his flirting.
 “No? Didn’t you see the pictures?” Your attitude doesn’t seem to deter him—rather, it only seems to egg him further on. “I have them all mounted on my walls at home—you should come see.”
This makes you falter. Looking at him from across the table with rounded eyes. “On your walls?”
“Framed.” He smiles, finally having broken through—he only intends to take it further. Not that what he was saying wasn’t true. “I just couldn’t help myself. I consider it my best work.” 
The look on your face is something between disgusted and uncertain—speechless in a sense.
It makes him laugh again. “Does anything flatter you?”
The wine comes. He’s poured a glass for testing.
“Not when spoken by men like you.”
His grin grows as he swirls the liquid around, smelling it like a phony.
“That’s a shame,” he says before taking a sip. He nods to the waiter, and you’re poured a similar glass. Meanwhile, he looks at you. “I’d like to flatter you—I’d like to spoil you even. You seem like you deserve it.”
You sip your glass. “No need.”
“I’m not so sure about that. You currently work at a diner, right?”
You gaze at him from atop your glass, brows furrowing. “How do you—”
“I didn’t.” It’s a lie, of course, he’d searched you up and gone over every little detail he could find. “It’s clear from the looks of you—”
“Fuck you,” you snap, putting your glass down a bit too harshly, enough to make a little wine slip and spill.
He doesn’t mind it. “Oh, I want you to,” he says instead. “After I pay for dinner and drive you back. We can fuck right under my favorite portrait of you.”
You’re stunted by his crude words, but only for a second. “How about we skip dinner, and you go fuck yourself.” 
His smile doesn’t drop, even as you get up to leave. “Settle down, sweetheart.”
“Make me, jackass.” 
You’re on your way to go, but his next words have you halting. 
“Either you humor me, or I make sure your friend never models in the country again.”
You turn around to look at him. You don’t really know why you’re so surprised. The card he just pulled is the very reason you agreed to the dinner in the first place. But an incentive is very different from outright blackmail, and suppose you just hadn’t really believed he’d take it that far.
“It’s my impression you don’t want that,” he continues.
You sit back down. He tops your glass off.
“I could make her big, you know?” he offers while pouring for himself as well. “Really speed her career along—set her up for life. I’ll do the same for you, too, of course.” 
He swirls his wine, lifting it as if to make a toast.
“And all you gotta do is come back home with me.”
You don’t have the words.
“You won’t be disappointed,” he promises. “I’m good at it.” As if that’s your concern. “You’ll never want to fuck anyone else again.”
You hate how right he is. 
You’ve never cum sooner or harder before in your life, not with anyone else or on your own. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced—so good, you’re screaming—moaning out in echoes throughout his giant penthouse, bouncing off the marble floors into all unlocked rooms, creating a cacophony of your undeniable pleasure.
He’s on his knees beneath you as you lean with your back against the window overlooking the city, barely able to stand as he buries his face between your soft thighs, canting his chin up while lapping hard at your slit and clit. His hard stare set on your face and the way you throw your head back while cumming in his mouth—your hand tussled in his hair, yanking on it hard enough to make him growl.
Your legs and feet give you little support. It's his hands that keep you up as you slide further and further down the floor-to-ceiling window until you’re almost about ready to drop your weight completely.
But he’s made you come undone three times by then, and just can’t wait any longer. 
He’s spun you around before you know it, making you face the pretty lights of the city skyline—his mouth hot on the shell of your ear, “I told you so, didn’t I?”
Your breath fogs the glass with your panting—knees wobbly, only standing thanks to the thick arms he’s got supporting you, each with a tit in their hand, giving them rough squeezes as he starts pounding away at your womb—hard enough to make the city lights blend in with the stars. 
“You won’t wanna fuck anyone else again.”
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♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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jetii · 6 days
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Always
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Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!Reader / Hunter x fem!Reader
Words: 16,083
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, hurt/comfort, forbidden relationship, a very heartfelt reunion, Hunter is a crier no I won't be accepting any criticism, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, nipple play, marking, primal kink, scent kink?, breeding kink
Summary: Months after you went into hiding, Hunter hasn't stopped hoping, waiting for the day when you can finally be together again. Now that it's here, and there's no reason to hide his feelings for you anymore, he can't help but be a little overwhelmed.
A/N: I'm sure no one believes me at this point but I had no intention of writing this much. I was possessed by the spirit of romance, true love, etc. etc. Anyway, please enjoy some very soft, very protective, very affectionate Hunter. Thank you so much to @dindjarins1ut for the prompt!
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Hunter is nervous.
He tries his best to hide it, keeping to himself while Tech and Echo bicker in the cockpit, but he can't ignore the butterflies in his stomach, nor the clammy hands threatening to soak through his gloves. It's ridiculous. He's faced off against far worse than this. He shouldn't be getting worked up over something so small.
But it isn't really small, not when you think about it. He hasn’t seen you in months. No comms, no messages. Nothing. He knows you’re alive, and even that was a miracle. The last words he said to you were in person, when you were standing right in front of him and he told you he loved you, and he'd kissed you and then left with the promise to come back as soon as he could.
That was before the Republic fell, and every Jedi across the galaxy was marked for death. Before the purge and the Empire's reign began. Before you were forced to go into hiding on your own.
And he hasn't spoken to you since.
You haven't seen each other in months, and Hunter is terrified that the feelings aren't mutual anymore. That you've grown apart during your time away, and what he had thought was love, you now see as nothing more than a fling. He's scared you'll look at him differently, scared you won't look at him at all.
He doesn't know what he'll do if you don’t want him anymore. If he loses the best thing that's ever happened to him.
It's stupid, Hunter knows that, because even if you don't love him the same way you used to, you'll still be friends. He should just be happy you're alive and not worrying about something so trivial as his emotions, but he can't help it. He can't shake the feeling, and it's eating him up inside.
A hand settles on his shoulder, and he jumps.
Hunter hasn’t been startled like that in ages, not since he was a cadet, but here he is, nearly falling out of his seat at the sudden contact. It takes him a moment to get over his shock, his heart pounding, before he looks up to see Wrecker looking down at him with a frown.
"Hey, we're almost there," Wrecker says, his voice uncharacteristically soft, and Hunter swallows the lump in his throat.
"I'm fine," he says, but it comes out rough. He clears his throat, tries again. "I'm fine."
Wrecker’s eyebrows raise, and Hunter realizes a moment too late Wrecker never asked how he was doing. But his brother doesn't call him out on it, only gives him a look, one that Hunter recognizes as his attempt to look serious.
“You sure?”
"Yeah," Hunter replies automatically. He can feel the anxiety creeping into his gut, and he pushes it down, looking away. "Why wouldn’t I be?”
"I dunno," Wrecker shrugs, leaning back against the bulkhead. "You've been real tense all day."
Hunter sighs. He should have known Wrecker would notice something was wrong, even if the others hadn't. He'd always been perceptive, despite what people thought of him, and Hunter’s never been able to get away with hiding his feelings, not even when they were kids.
"I just..." he hesitates, wondering how to explain his feelings without making himself seem pathetic. Wrecker might not care, but Hunter still has his pride. He still has the strong desire to protect you, to keep you secret and safe. He knows Wrecker would never betray his trust, but still, he doesn't want to admit how anxious he's been, or how much the anticipation is killing him.
"It's nothing," Hunter decides. He turns back to look out the viewport through the doors of the cockpit. They’ll be landing in a few minutes, and he doesn't want to miss the moment you step into view. "Just... worried, is all."
"What for?"
"I..."
He can't say it, can't get the words past his lips, but the hand on his shoulder squeezes gently, and the unspoken encouragement makes the admission easier.
"It's been a long time," Hunter says finally, and the rest comes tumbling out of him, unable to be held back anymore, “We haven’t seen her in months, Wrecker. What if she's... I don’t know. Things have changed, is all. For her. For us."
"So?" Wrecker scoffs, and his dismissal of the problem only makes Hunter feel worse. He scowls, glaring up at his brother.
"So," he echoes, trying to sound stern, but he can't even bring himself to look mad, not really. His shoulders slump, the fight leaving him, and he looks away. "It might not be the same anymore."
For a moment, the silence is deafening, but then Wrecker lets out a laugh, loud enough to echo throughout the ship, and Hunter bristles, his eyes darting to the cockpit. Tech and Echo are still arguing about the finer details of landing, but he doesn't doubt they can hear every word they're saying.
"What?" Hunter snaps, glaring at his brother, but Wrecker only laughs harder.
"I'm pretty sure she won't have changed that much," he says, nudging Hunter's shoulder hard enough to make him sway. "I bet she's gonna be so happy to see us, she'll probably forget how to talk. Just like last time."
Hunter huffs, but he can't help the twitch of his lips at the memory of your first meeting, of how nervous you'd been, unable to string two words together without stumbling over your own tongue. You always did tend to trip over your own words when you were flustered. 
You had been rendered speechless after he'd told you about his feelings for you, your face flushed red, mouth hanging open in surprise, and he hadn't been able to keep from grinning at your reaction. You couldn’t form a single sentence until after you'd kissed him, and by then, it was his turn to be caught off guard.
He can remember the look on your face like it was yesterday, and the thought of seeing you again, of seeing your eyes light up as you smile up at him, fills him with a familiar warmth. He wants so badly to believe that your reunion will go well, that things haven't changed and that your relationship is the same, but a part of him, the pessimistic part that's kept him alive all these years, knows that it can't possibly be true. 
And Wrecker has no idea what you mean to him, because Hunter has never told him, has never told any of them. You're his secret, his one solace in the galaxy, the one thing he keeps from his brothers, the only thing he's ever wanted that's completely his.
And you were taken from him.
It hurts just thinking about it, knowing you were alone, afraid, with no one to turn to for help, while Hunter was hundreds of thousands of parsecs away. They'd spent weeks trying to find you after the Empire was established, scouring the holonet and every contact he could find, but it was like you had fallen off the face of the galaxy.
Hunter had never felt so helpless in his life.
So yes, he's a little scared of how this is going to play out. You were taken from him once, and it broke his heart. He's terrified that if you don't want him anymore, he won't survive losing you a second time.
"Yeah," Hunter murmurs, glancing out the window. Your home planet is starting to take shape in the viewport, the blue and green and brown and white all blending together. "You're probably right."
Wrecker chuckles, patting his shoulder.
"You know I am," Wrecker says cheerfully, and then he's walking away, back towards the cockpit to interrupt the debate Tech and Echo are having.
Hunter stares after him, not sure if he should be offended by the comment or not. He chooses not to dwell on it, pushing himself out of his chair to follow his brother. Tech spares them a quick glance, rolling his eyes when he sees Wrecker is already pushing his way into his space.
"Would you mind," he grumbles, elbowing the bigger clone, but Wrecker is unfazed, squeezing into the small space behind Tech's chair.
"Nah," he says, grinning down at him.
"Then could you at least wait until we've landed?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
"It would certainly make things less complicated."
"Guys, come on," Echo groans, his head hitting the back of his seat. "We're almost there."
"And what a relief that will be," Tech grumbles, pushing his goggles up his nose, and he looks at Hunter, his brow raised. "What is the matter with you?"
"Nothing," Hunter says, but he's a little too fast to reply, and Tech doesn't buy it. His gaze turns suspicious, but he doesn't push. Instead, he shoves Wrecker's hands away from the controls and starts his descent, taking the ship down in a controlled spiral towards the planet's surface.
Omega drops into the seat beside him and secures her restraints, and Hunter follows suit, though he can't help the nervous energy building in his limbs. He can't keep still, his fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm against his thigh, and when Omega's small hand covers his, he startles.
"Are you excited?" she asks him, and Hunter hesitates for a moment before he nods.
"Yeah, kid," he answers, and it's not a lie. Not really. He is excited, in his own way. "I'm glad we get to see her."
"Me too," Omega smiles as she pulls her hand away, and she turns to watch the clouds disappear as they sink below the atmosphere. "I can't wait to meet her."
"She's gonna love you," Wrecker says, his arms braced on Tech's chair. "You're gonna love her, too. She's real nice."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah," Hunter replies, leaning back in his seat. He can't keep the fondness out of his voice when he speaks, the memory of your laugh echoing in his head. "She's one of a kind."
Tech glances over his shoulder. "It has been some time since we last saw her," he says, and Hunter feels his heart stutter in his chest. He knows Tech doesn't mean anything by it, but he can't help but hear the implication in his words.
It's been a long time, and people change.
"Well," Echo says, turning in his seat to grin at Hunter. "Let's hope she hasn't forgotten all about us."
Hunter swallows the lump in his throat and forces a smile, nodding along with the rest of them, but he can't ignore the pit in his stomach. He wants so desperately to believe they're right, that your reunion will go well and it won't be awkward, that everything will be just like it used to, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't shake the feeling.
"It'll be... nice, to see her again," Tech says. "Even if it has been awhile."
"Aw, you missed her too, huh?" Wrecker grins, clapping a hand on Tech's shoulder, who swats him away irritably.
"She was a competent general, and she is a valuable ally," Tech replies, adjusting his goggles. "I didn't say I missed her. Simply that it will be nice to see her."
"It's okay to admit you like her, you know," Echo teases. "We won't tell anyone."
Tech shoots him a glare, but he doesn't say anything. He's focused on the descent now, the ground growing closer and closer, and when they break through the cloud cover, the land below them comes into focus.
Hunter leans forward in his seat, eyes straining against the sun. You live on a small colony in the southern hemisphere, surrounded by a large forest. It's isolated, and perfect for someone trying to lay low, but it's also a bit difficult to find, and Hunter doesn't spot your house until they're nearly on top of it.
It's small, a cabin tucked neatly among the trees, with a yard and a path that leads to a dock down by the lake. There's a ship parked outside, a tiny thing, and Tech guides the Marauder down beside it.
"There she is!" Wrecker booms, pointing out the viewport. Hunter stands up, ignoring the nausea building in his stomach, and scans the house.
And there you are.
You're sitting on the porch, a datapad in your lap, and you glance up with a hand shielding your eyes. It's impossible to make out your expression, but when the Marauder slows to land, you're already standing and hurrying down the dirt path towards them.
It's been so long since he's seen you, and even though he knows your face, has it memorized and replayed in his head so many times it's burned into his mind, the sight of you is enough to knock the wind out of him. You're smiling, waving up at the ship, and you look so happy that he can't stop himself from mirroring your expression.
You're here.
Hunter has dreamed of this moment for months, the day he gets to see you again, and the reality of it is even better than he'd hoped. He's barely aware of his feet moving, taking him towards the hatch as soon as the ship has touched down.
"Hunter?" Wrecker's voice is far away, barely registering in Hunter's mind as he practically runs towards the exit. "You okay?"
"Fine," he calls over his shoulder, his hand slamming into the button. The door hisses as it slides open, and a rush of warm, fresh air washes over him. The second his feet hit the ground, he's moving, his legs carrying him as fast as he can.
"Hey!" Wrecker shouts, but Hunter doesn't answer. He's halfway down the path, his eyes locked on your figure as you hurry towards him, and when you're close enough to touch, he's pulling you into his arms.
Your hands slide around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as he crushes you to his chest. He doesn't realize he's crying until he hears you whisper his name, but then you're laughing, soft and beautiful, and all he can do is hold you tighter, your scent enveloping him as he breathes you in. He can't keep himself from pressing his lips to the skin behind your ear, needing to feel the warmth of you, the solidness, the realness of you here, alive, with him.
"Hunter," you whisper, and his name has never sounded so sweet. Your voice, your hands, the sound of your breath as it ghosts across his skin, the way you say his name. All of it is like a balm to his soul, soothing his worry, and for a moment, everything feels right again.
Hunter lifts his head and cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him, and you do.
Your eyes are shining, tears brimming along the edges, and when you blink, they spill over. He thumbs them away, smiling so wide his cheeks ache.
"Hi," he whispers. You laugh, a sob escaping with it, and he feels his heart soar at the sound.
"Hi," you say back, and then you're surging forward, capturing his lips with yours.
It's a desperate kiss, the kind that says how much you've missed each other, how afraid you were of never seeing the other again. It's the first kiss you've shared in months, and it's the best damn kiss Hunter's ever had. The world narrows down to just the two of you, and nothing else exists, not the trees or the ship or his family watching from the hatch, their jaws hanging open.
It's just him and you, finally, blissfully, reunited.
He kisses you hard, and you return the pressure, clutching him close. His arms slip around your waist, lifting you off the ground for a moment, and you gasp against his mouth, laughing when he sets you down again.
"Miss me?" you ask, a teasing note to your voice, and Hunter pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.
"Yeah," he replies, and then he's kissing you again, softer this time. Gentler. His lips move against yours, slow and deliberate, and your fingers tighten their grip in his hair. 
He doesn't know how long it's been since he's started kissed you, or how long you've been kissing him, but it doesn't matter. It's not enough, could never be enough. He needs more of you, needs every part of you pressed against him, so close he can feel your heartbeat.
You hum, your hand moving to cup the back of his head, and the kiss deepens. Hunter's hands drift, sliding down the curve of your spine until his palms are pressed flat against the small of your back, and he pulls you closer. Your body molds to his perfectly, and you're warm and soft and so unbelievably real, and he never wants to let you go.
"Uh..."
The sudden intrusion startles him, and he pulls away from the kiss with a jerk, looking over his shoulder. The rest of his squad is staring at him, dumbfounded, and he can't keep the blush from creeping up his neck.
"Uh," he repeats, his face flushing. "Hey."
Wrecker's jaw is hanging open, and so is Tech's. Hunter doesn't think he's ever seen either of his brothers at a loss for words.
"We, uh..." Hunter clears his throat, glancing back at you. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, but you're grinning up at him, your eyes dancing. You give him a little nod, a silent permission to tell them the truth, and his heart flutters. "We were going to tell you, but things... got in the way."
Wrecker is the first to recover, his surprise shifting into a massive smile.
"I knew it!" he yells, pumping his fist in the air. "I told ya, didn't I? Didn't I?"
"That you did," Tech replies. His mouth is still open, but he closes it quickly, pushing his goggles up his nose before reaching up to scratch the back of his head. "Well, this is... certainly unexpected."
"That's an understatement," Echo mutters. He glances at Hunter, his brow raised. "So, how long has this been going on?"
"Uh..." Hunter's eyes dart to you, but you only smile at him. He swallows the lump in his throat and takes a deep breath. "It's been a couple years."
"A couple years?"
"Yeah."
"Years," Echo repeats. "Right. Okay."
"You could have told us," Tech says. He's looking at Hunter now, his face impassive, but Hunter can read the hurt in his eyes hidden behind the mask of indifference. "We wouldn't have betrayed your trust."
"I know," Hunter sighs, running a hand over his head. "We just... we wanted to keep it quiet."
"It was my idea," you say, and Hunter's surprised to see you look guilty. Your eyes are fixed on the ground, and he watches the way your bottom lip wobbles before you suck it into your mouth. You look up at him through your lashes, and he offers you a reassuring smile. You return it, but it's hesitant. "The Order's views on attachment were... a little different, to say the least. It would have put both of us at risk if anyone found out. So we kept it secret."
"Well, now you don't have to," Wrecker grins.
"No, I suppose not," you reply, smiling at him, but there's a sadness to your expression that makes Hunter's chest tighten. He can only imagine how difficult the last few months have been for you, what it's like to be in hiding, constantly looking over your shoulder. His arms ache to wrap around you again, to pull you into his chest and hold you close, to protect you from everything and everyone.
But he can't.
The Empire is everywhere, always watching. The war might be over, but the danger isn't gone, not yet. Not for him, and not for you.
"Can I come out now?" a voice voice drifts from the ship, and Hunter looks up, surprised. His eyes land on Omega, her arms crossed over her chest. She looks irritated, a frown pulling at her lips, and he chuckles.
"Yeah, kid," he says, nodding his head towards the ramp. "Come on."
Omega wastes no time in running out of the ship, her irritation forgotten in her excitement. She skids to a stop a few feet away, her eyes wide as she stares at you. You kneel down, a warm smile spreading across your face, and Hunter feels his heart squeeze in his chest.
"Hey," you say softly. "You must be Omega. I've heard a lot about you."
Omega steps forward, holding her hand out for you to shake, and you take it.
"Nice to meet you," she says politely.
"And you," you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Your eyes are soft as you study her face, a fondness to your expression that Hunter's only seen a few times.
He knows how much you love children. The Order never allowed its members to have families, but that hasn't stopped you from falling in love with kids everywhere you go. He's seen the way your eyes light up when you're around them, how gently you speak to them, like they're the most important people in the galaxy. 
He knows it's just the way you are, but sometimes, he wonders if it's something more. If maybe, someday, you'd want to have kids of your own.
And the thought terrifies him.
Not because he doesn't want a family with you, but because the world is changing, and he's not sure there's any place for it. You're in hiding, and he's a traitor to the Republic. How would it ever work?
He knows you wouldn't care about the dangers, though. You'd risk everything for a chance at a normal life, a family, and while he'd give anything for that too, he doesn't think he can allow himself to get his hopes up.
Not now. Not yet.
He's lost in thought, his gaze drifting to the trees surrounding the house, when a tug on his arm brings him back. You're looking up at him, an eyebrow raised, and when he blinks, you roll your eyes, a fond smile twitching at your lips.
"Sorry," he murmurs. "What did you say?"
"I was asking how long you're staying," you repeat, but he can tell by the look on your face you know what's going on in his head. You're giving him a moment to compose himself, a distraction to keep him from slipping into another spiral.
It's a common occurrence these days.
"Well," Hunter starts, glancing at the rest of his team. "We're kind of... between jobs, right now."
"That's putting it lightly," Echo scoffs.
"So we figured we could use a little vacation," Hunter finishes. He looks back at you. "If you'll have us."
"Of course I will," you smile, and Hunter doesn't miss the way your shoulders relax, the relief in your eyes. "Stay as long as you want."
"We don't want to intrude," Hunter says, his gaze softening. "If you need some space, we understand. We can—"
"Don't be ridiculous," you huff, nudging his shoulder. "I'd love to have you."
"Really?"
"Yeah, of course," you nod, glancing at the others. "All of you."
"Good," Hunter breathes, unable to keep the sigh of relief from escaping his lips. "I didn't really wanna leave anyway."
"Good," you say, leaning into his side. You rest your head against his shoulder, and Hunter's arm wraps around you almost automatically, pulling you against him. "I've missed you."
"Yeah," Hunter says softly. "Me too."
"Oh, yeah," Wrecker grins. "He hasn't shut up about you."
"Wrecker," Hunter hisses.
"No, really," Tech nods, adjusting his goggles. "Ever since we lost contact, he hasn't stopped talking about you."
"Not that he wasn't always talking about her," Echo teases.
"Hey," Hunter protests, but he can feel his cheeks burning, and he knows the blush is starting to creep up his neck. You're smiling, a knowing glint in your eye as you glance up at him, and Hunter rolls his eyes. "They're exaggerating."
"We are not," Tech says, frowning at him.
"Maybe not," Echo smirks, his gaze settling on you. "But now we know why he's been so weird about seeing you again."
"He's been weird?" you ask. You're trying to hold back a laugh, but Hunter can see the mirth in your eyes.
"He hasn't stopped pacing for days."
"He nearly fell over his own feet trying to get off the ship."
"Oh, yeah, he was nervous all right," Wrecker chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Never seen him like that before. I was startin' to get worried."
"Guys," Hunter grumbles. "Come on."
"Well," you smile, patting his chest. "I'm glad you came. All of you."
"Us too," Omega says. Her face is scrunched up, like she's trying not to laugh. "Hunter was so nervous he forgot how to breathe."
"Alright, that's enough," Hunter huffs. He can feel his ears burning, and he shoots Omega a pointed look. "Everyone, inside."
"Aw, but—"
"Now," Hunter snaps, cutting Wrecker off. He's not mad, not really, but he can't help the embarrassment. "We'll be there in a minute."
Wrecker opens his mouth to protest, but Echo nudges him, nodding his head towards the house. Tech doesn't wait for either of them, heading inside without another word, and Wrecker reluctantly follows after him, grumbling under his breath. Omega casts one last look over her shoulder, waving at you before disappearing inside.
The silence that settles over the two of you is heavy, and Hunter lets out a long breath. He runs a hand over his hair, avoiding your eyes.
"I can't believe they told you that," he mutters, but he can feel your gaze on him, the smile in your eyes, and his irritation fades.
"They're only teasing," you say, resting a hand on his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin, and he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he replies, opening his eyes to look at you. Your smile is soft, gentle, and he melts under your gaze. "Just a little overwhelmed."
"Me too," you chuckle, dropping your hand. He quickly grabs it, pulling it to his chest, and your expression shifts. "I've been so worried, Hunter. I thought..."
"I know," he whispers. His grip tightens on your hand. "I've missed you so much."
"I missed you too," you whisper back. Your voice wavers, and Hunter tugs on your arm, bringing you closer.
"I'm here now," he murmurs, tilting his head down. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
You nod, but the fear is still shining in your eyes. He knows that feeling all too well, the uncertainty, the constant worry, the doubt. And it's hard to believe him, he knows, when the past few months have been nothing but fear and anxiety. But he's determined to make it better, to do whatever it takes to ease your mind, even if it's just for a little while.
He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, and the contact makes you sigh.
"I'm gonna take care of you," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. He strokes the skin with his thumb, his fingers gentle, and his heart stutters in his chest at the way your eyes flutter closed. "You don't have to worry anymore. I'll make sure nothing happens to you, I promise."
"You don't have to—"
"I know," he cuts you off, brushing his nose against yours. "But I'm going to. We're gonna protect you, sweetheart. All of us."
"Thank you," you whisper, opening your eyes. He's startled by the emotion swimming in your gaze, the tears pooling along the edges, and the sight breaks his heart. “But I can’t put you guys in danger. The Empire—”
"The Empire won't do anything," he assures you. "You're safe. We'll keep you safe."
"But what if—"
"Listen," he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek. You suck your lip into your mouth, chewing on the flesh, and he gently pries it from your teeth. "None of that. I won't let anything happen to you. Neither will they. You're part of the team, and we take care of our own. No matter what."
"You don't have to do this, Hunter."
"I know," he says, his voice low. He doesn't want to push, doesn't want to force you to come with them, but he needs you to believe him. Needs you to understand. "But I want to. Please. Let me take care of you. It'll be good for all of us."
You're quiet for a moment, your brow furrowed, but then you let out a soft sigh, your shoulders slumping, and your eyes drop to the ground.
"Okay," you whisper. "Okay."
"Hey," Hunter says. His free hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "Trust me, alright? You're safe now."
You nod, but you don't look convinced. He sighs, leaning forward until his lips brush against yours, featherlight, barely there.
"We can talk more later," he murmurs. He's desperate to kiss you again, his whole body aching for it, but he doesn't want to rush you. He's willing to wait, no matter how badly he wants you. "If you're okay with it."
"Yes," you breathe, your hands coming up to clutch at his armor, and you press a soft kiss to his jaw. "I'd like that."
He lets out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to press his hips into yours, but then your hands slide up over his shoulders to tangle in his hair, and he groans. You chuckle, a sweet, breathy sound that has his blood singing, and Hunter's restraint crumbles.
He kisses you, slow and deliberate, and his hands are moving on their own. He lifts you into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You're pliant under his touch, letting him guide the kiss, and he licks at your lips, begging for entrance. You give it easily, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth, curling against yours.
His hips press against yours, and your body is hot against him, so soft and perfect. You taste so good, and feel even better, and the sounds you're making, the little whines and gasps, are driving him crazy.
"I'm not letting you out of my sight," he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss. He's breathing hard, his pulse thrumming, and he can't keep the smirk off his face. You look beautiful, flushed and breathless, and his desire spikes when your fingers tug at his hair.
"Fine with me," you smile.
"Good." He kisses you again, deep and slow, and his hands drift lower. "I've got a lot of time to make up for."
"Mmm," you hum, your head falling back. Hunter can't resist the urge to kiss your throat, his teeth grazing over the delicate skin, and you shudder. A breathy moan falls from your lips, soft and quiet, but Hunter hears it. He always does.
"Fuck," he growls. "You sound so pretty."
"Hunter," you sigh. His name is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, and he has to fight the urge to take you right then and there.
"We should go inside," he murmurs, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear.
"Mmhmm," you reply. You're nuzzling his neck, your hot breath sending shivers down his spine, and his hold on you tightens.
"Sweetheart," he groans. "I can't think straight when you do that."
"That's the idea."
"Come on," he says. He's reluctant to put you down, but he does, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment.
You look at him, your eyes bright, and your smile makes his chest ache. He wants so badly to stay with you, to pull you into his lap and bury himself in your warmth, to have the freedom to kiss you, touch you, love you, without having to worry about getting caught. He's never been able to do that before, always keeping you a secret, always worried about being found out, but the Order doesn't exist anymore, and now he has the chance.
And he's going to take it.
He's not going to hide his feelings anymore. You deserve more than that.
You reach up and touch his cheek, the gentle gesture enough to calm his racing heart.
"Let's go," you say, your thumb stroking over his skin. "Before they get suspicious."
"I'm pretty sure they're already suspicious," he chuckles, glancing towards the house.
"It's a little obvious, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he admits, his face heating up. "A little."
You laugh, taking his hand in yours. You're leading him towards the door, but he stops, giving you a gentle tug.
"Hey," he murmurs, waiting for you to turn around. You do, a small smile tugging at your lips, and he can't help the way his eyes dart down to your mouth, the memory of your kiss sending a thrill down his spine.
"What?"
"I love you," he whispers. He's not sure why he says it. You know how he feels, you've known it for a long time, but something about it feels different, now. Like it means more than it did before.
Maybe it does.
Your expression softens, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards, and he can see the happiness in your eyes, the fondness. It's a look he's familiar with, one he's seen many times, but the knowledge that he can see it as much as he wants now, without having to hide or sneak around, makes his heart flutter in his chest.
"I love you, too," you whisper, a smile spreading across your face.
"Come here," he says. You're in his arms again before you can say a word, his mouth finding yours, and you're melting into his touch, the kiss deepening, turning desperate. He has to pull away before his brain completely shuts down, and when he does, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.
"Later," he promises, his voice a rasp.
"Later," you agree.
He lets out a long breath, nodding his head once before stepping back. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, and he gives you a gentle nudge, nodding towards the house. You smile, reaching up to straighten his bandana, and Hunter can't help but chuckle at the action.
"Lead the way," you say.
"Always," he grins, and then you're walking up the path, the warmth of the sun enveloping you as you step onto the porch.
The door slides open before Hunter can even reach for the panel, Wrecker's smiling face poking out.
"Oh, good," he says, looking at the two of you. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us."
"Of course not," you reply.
Wrecker's grin widens, and then he's stepping aside, his arm sweeping towards the inside of the house.
"After you, General."
"Thanks," you smile, nodding your head in appreciation. Hunter follows behind, his hand hovering at the base of your spine. Wrecker doesn't miss the movement, his eyebrows shooting up, but he doesn't say anything. He just watches, a knowing look in his eyes, and Hunter rolls his own.
"Not a word," he warns.
"Wasn't gonna say anything," Wrecker smirks, his gaze flickering to the hand resting on your back. "Not sure I need to."
"Don't start," Hunter sighs. He slows to a stop, crossing his arms over his chest, and you keep walking, a laugh spilling from your lips as you head towards the kitchen.
"Hey," Wrecker raises his hands in surrender, but the grin doesn't fade. "I'm happy for you. Both of you."
Hunter blinks. "Thanks," he says slowly.
"I mean it." Wrecker smiles. He claps a hand on Hunter's shoulder, a silent confirmation of his words, and Hunter returns the gesture. "You two deserve each other."
"Yeah," Hunter says, looking over at you. You're already in the kitchen, Tech at your side, and the two of you are talking rapidly at each other with Omega sitting on the counter between you. Tech's arms are waving wildly, a datapad gripped tightly in his hands, and you're grinning at him, the excitement obvious on your face. Echo is stirring a pot of something, the delicious smell of dinner drifting through the house, and he chimes in every now and then, his smile growing wider each time.
Omega glances up at him, and she gives him a little wave, her grin so wide her cheeks must ache. Hunter smiles back, his heart swelling, and he can't help but think, maybe everything is going to be alright.
You look so at home with his family, like you've always been a part of it, like you've always belonged there. And maybe you have. Maybe, this was where you were supposed to end up all along.
It's funny, how things work out sometimes. How, even after losing so much, even after having nearly everything taken from him, he somehow still managed to find something good.
"I guess we do,” Hunter finally replies, his gaze settling on you. He can't tear his eyes away, can't stop looking at the way the setting sun dances over your face, lighting you up in the most beautiful glow, the way your smile makes his heart beat faster.
Wrecker follows his gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "So, does this mean she agreed to stay with us?"
"Yeah," Hunter sighs, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Yeah, she is."
"Good," Wrecker says. His smile widens. "That's good."
"It's going to be hard, keeping things quiet," Hunter says, glancing at his brother. "We've got a target on our backs, and I'm not sure how much longer we can hide. The Empire will find us eventually, and when they do—"
"It's okay," Wrecker interrupts, holding his hand up. "I know. But it's worth it, right? To keep her safe? And Omega?”
"Yeah," Hunter says without hesitation. "It is."
"Then we'll do whatever we have to," Wrecker replies. He nods towards the kitchen. "They'll understand. ‘Sides, Omega's gotta have a mom at some point. Might as well be her."
Hunter's breath catches, his chest tightening. "Wrecker—"
"You're happy," he continues, ignoring Hunter's protest. "You haven't been happy since... well, not since I can remember. And she makes you happy. And she's good with the kid, too. I can see how much she loves you, and how much you love her. So, what's the problem?"
Hunter stares at him, the surprise clear on his face.
"I, uh... nothing. There's no problem," he stammers, his brow furrowing.
"Good," Wrecker grins. He nudges him with his elbow, giving him a wink. "She's good for you, Sarge. And we're not gonna let anyone take that away from you. No matter what happens."
"Thanks," Hunter replies. He swallows the lump in his throat and blinks back the sudden moisture in his eyes. Wrecker squeezes his shoulder, smiling down at him, and Hunter takes a shaky breath.
"Don't mention it," Wrecker says. "Come on. I‘m starving."
"You're always hungry."
"Well, yeah," he scoffs. "We gotta keep our strength up, right? Especially if we're gonna be fighting off Imperials."
He mimes a punch, his fist slamming into his palm, and Hunter chuckles.
"Yeah, alright," he agrees. "Let's go eat."
The two of them walk into the kitchen, Wrecker immediately making a beeline for the pot Echo is stirring, and Hunter makes his way over to where you're standing with Tech.
He stands beside you, close enough for his arm to brush against yours, but he doesn't touch you. He keeps his hands at his sides, his fingers curling into his palms, but the desire to wrap his arms around you is overwhelming.
He knows you'll let him, but it's only been a few hours, and he's afraid if he touches you again, he won't be able to stop.
Tech is explaining something to you, his hands moving rapidly as he talks, and Hunter watches, his head tilted to the side. He's only half listening to what his brother is saying, but he's content to just watch the two of you interact. You're so invested in the conversation, asking questions, listening intently as Tech answers, and Hunter can't help but smile at the sight.
"So, what do you think?"
Tech's voice startles him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, forcing his attention back to the present.
"Uh... sorry," he mutters, glancing at you. "What was that?"
“Tech wants to gut my ship for parts like a bantha carcass," you huff. You're smirking at him, amusement shining in your eyes. "He's trying to convince me to let him take it apart."
"It's not as though we have much use for it," Tech argues. "And besides, it would give me something to do while we're here."
“Aren’t you all supposed to be relaxing?”
“I happen to find tinkering with electronics quite relaxing," Tech replies. "Especially old ones. And it will keep me busy, which means I won’t be pestering you. So really, you would be doing yourself a favor by allowing me to do this.”
Hunter smirks. “He’s got a point.”
“Traitor,” you mutter, nudging his shoulder.
He nudges you back, his grin widening, and you roll your eyes.
"Alright, fine," you sigh.
"Excellent," Tech smiles. He turns his attention back to the datapad in his hands, his eyes darting across the screen. “Omega, would you like to help me dismantle this ship? It will give you a chance to learn more about the components of different models."
"Sure," she nods. She jumps down from the counter, landing with a soft thud. 
Hunter watches the two of them disappear into the living room before looking at you. You're smiling softly, your head tilted to the side, and he can't stop his gaze from wandering, taking in every detail of your face.
"You're staring," you murmur. You look at him out of the corner of your eye, and the hint of a smile tugging at your lips betrays your feigned irritation.
"Can’t help it,” he replies. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your hip. The simple touch is enough to send a spark shooting through him, a warmth blooming low in his stomach, and his grip tightens, pulling you closer.
"Hunter," you laugh, your eyes widening.
"Hmm?"
"We're not alone."
"We're not?" He arches an eyebrow. "Didn't notice."
"Hunter," you hiss, but there's no bite to your words, just a soft laugh. "Stop it."
"No," he grins, leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. You shiver, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he feels a rush of pride at the reaction.
"You're impossible."
"Only because I can be," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your cheek. You sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut, and Hunter can't resist the urge to brush his mouth over the soft skin, trailing gentle kisses down your neck. You let out a soft whine, the noise so quiet only he can hear it, and his body reacts instinctively, his hands tightening, his hips shifting closer.
"Hunter," you gasp, your voice low.
"You smell so good," he groans. His nose brushes against your throat, and he inhales deeply, breathing in the sweet scent. It sends a thrill through him, a burst of heat washing over his body, and he nuzzles the skin, his lips ghosting along the edge of your jaw.
He doesn't want to stop. He wants to keep going, wants to drag his mouth across every inch of you until there's no part untouched, until the taste of you is burned into his memory for good. But he's aware of the others in the room, and he forces himself to pull away. He puts some distance between you, enough so that he can breathe, but he can't bring himself to move too far away.
"Tonight," Hunter says, his voice rough. He glances over his shoulder, making sure the others are still distracted, before continuing, "I'm gonna take care of you."
"Mm," you nod. You look dazed, your cheeks flushed, and Hunter feels a surge of satisfaction knowing it's his fault. "You'd better."
"Oh, I will," he smirks. "All night, if you want."
You bite your lip, your eyes sparkling. "Promise?"
"I—"
"Alright, I’m no chef, but I think it’s ready," Echo calls, Wrecker already heading towards the pot with a stack of bowls. He turns around, a spoon in one hand, and Hunter catches a glimpse of a wicked smile. "If you can pry yourselves apart long enough to eat."
"We were just talking," you argue, but your face is red, and Hunter has to bite back a grin.
"Right," Echo laughs, his gaze flickering between you. "Just talking. Got it."
"Echo," Hunter warns.
"I didn't say anything," he replies innocently. He waves his spoon at the two of you, his grin widening. "You can have your little chat after dinner.”
“Enough talking,” Wrecker groans, snatching the spoon from Echo’s hand and shoving him out of the way. "Food first."
"We'll finish this later," Hunter whispers, and you nod.
"I'll hold you to that," you whisper, brushing a kiss against his cheek before you pull away, stepping towards the counter. You glance over your shoulder at him, a sly smile curling your lips, and Hunter has to force himself not to follow after you. He waits until you're busy helping Wrecker dish out the food before moving, and even then, he makes sure to keep his distance.
It's difficult.
The need to be near you is overwhelming, and he can't stand the thought of leaving you for even a moment. But he doesn't want to crowd you, either, and he has to remind himself that you're not going anywhere.
You're here, and he's here, and nothing is going to take him away from you. Not again.
The thought settles over him, calming the ache in his chest, and he finally allows himself to relax, falling into an easy rhythm with the others as the six of you gather around the table. He takes a seat next to you, his leg pressed against yours, and his arm is draped over the back of your chair, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. You lean into his side, your body fitting against his like it was made to, and the warmth of you is enough to ease the last bit of tension that's been lingering beneath the surface.
The rest of the night passes in a blur. Hunter loses track of how many times his hand drifts to your side, or his fingers slip into your own, or his lips press against your temple. Every time he does it, he expects a reaction from you, a protest or an admonishment or a roll of the eyes, but each time, you simply smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and he finds himself doing it again, unable to stop himself.
It’s easy, familiar, like this is how it was always meant to be, and the fact that he can finally hold you without fear of getting caught is a relief that's impossible to put to words. There's no more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more worrying about being seen standing too close together or his hands lingering too long. It's freeing, not having to hide how he feels, not having to pretend like his feelings don't exist.
It's the most natural thing in the world.
And he's going to enjoy every second of it.
Eventually, the meal ends, the food vanishing into Wrecker's stomach, and Hunter helps you clean up while the others disappear outside. The setting sun guides them toward your ship with Tech in the lead, and Hunter watches them go, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment before returning to you. You're scrubbing at a pot, your brow furrowed in concentration, and he can't help the fond smile that spreads across his face. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, content to watch you work.
"You're staring again," you mumble, not bothering to look at him.
"How did you know?"
"I can feel it," you chuckle. You set the pot aside and dry your hands before hanging up the towel. "I always know."
"It's not my fault," he says, pushing off the counter. Hunter closes the distance between the two of you, his hands resting on your hips. "You're hard to resist. And I can't keep my eyes off you."
"You're such a flatterer."
"It's not flattery if it's true."
You shake your head, a smile spreading across your face.
"What?"
"Nothing," you laugh. "Just... the way you're acting. It's kind of cute."
"Cute?" He frowns, his nose wrinkling. "I don't know about that."
"It is." Your arms snake around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, and you tilt your head to the side. "I'm used to the serious, stoic Hunter. I like this one, too."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Mmhmm," you hum. Your lips press against his jaw, a soft kiss that has his eyes fluttering shut, and his hands slide down to grip your thighs. He lifts you onto the counter, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.
"Is that so?"
"Uh-huh," you nod, and you kiss him again. This time, it's lower, right where his pulse is jumping under his skin, and he groans, his eyes falling shut.
"I didn't know you liked him so much," he manages to say, his breath hitching.
"I love him," you murmur. "As much as the other one."
"Well," he chuckles. He pulls away just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face. "I think I can live with that."
You lean forward, and he meets you halfway, his mouth finding yours.
It starts off slow, a lazy kiss, his hands moving from your face to tangle in your hair. But then your lips part, and the soft sound you make is enough to light a fire in his veins, and he's kissing you with everything he has, pouring all his emotion into it. You return it eagerly, matching him stroke for stroke, and when his tongue brushes against yours, the groan he lets out is so loud he can't even hear the others yelling outside.
It doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing does, except the two of you.
"Bedroom," you gasp, breaking the kiss. "Now."
"Yeah," he pants. He grabs your thighs, pulling you off the counter, and you wrap your legs around his waist, his arms hooking under your knees.
He doesn't say anything else. He can't. He just kisses you, his tongue sliding past your parted lips, and your nails dig into his shoulders, a desperate moan spilling from your throat.
He carries you through the house, navigating the halls blindly, too focused on kissing you to care where he's going. He nearly trips over a chair, but he manages to keep his balance, and you laugh, the sound vibrating against his mouth. He breaks the kiss long enough to shoot you a playful glare, and you beam back.
"In a hurry, are we?"
"You have no idea," he mutters. He kicks the door to your bedroom open, shutting it behind him with his foot, and strides across the room. "Been wanting this for too damn long."
"Mm," you sigh. You're kissing his neck now, your tongue lapping at his skin, and his pace quickens. He feels the softness of the mattress hit the back of his legs, and he sits, his hands shifting to cup your thighs.
"Missed you," he rasps as you settle into his lap. You're straddling him now, and the heat of you against him is driving him crazy. "Missed you so much."
"Missed you too," you whisper, and your hands are cupping his face, pulling him towards you. Your fingers trace the outline of his tattoo, your touch gentle, almost reverent. He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling, and his breath hitches as you brush your lips over his temple.
"I can't believe this is real," he admits, his voice low. "I keep thinking it's some kind of dream, that I'm gonna wake up and find myself back on the ship."
"It's not a dream," you promise. You press a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, his nose, and then, finally, his mouth. It's soft, chaste, but no less intense, and Hunter sighs, his hands sliding up to curl around your waist.
"You're really here," he whispers. "I didn't think..."
"I'm not going anywhere," you assure him, and the conviction in your voice makes his heart ache. Your forehead is resting against his, your lips barely an inch apart, and he can feel your breath ghosting across his skin. "I love you."
"I'm sorry," he breathes. "For not coming to you sooner. For not—"
"Hunter, stop," you cut him off, your fingers pressing against his mouth. He quiets instantly, his gaze locked with yours. "It's not your fault. There was nothing you could've done."
"I could've tried harder," he protests. "Could've tried to find you."
"You couldn't," you sigh, shaking your head. "You know that. I didn't want to be found. I'm not even supposed to be here. If anyone finds me, I'm as good as dead."
"I won't let that happen."
"I know," you smile. Your thumbs rub gentle circles against his cheeks, and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "And I love you for it. But we can't change the past. We just have to make the most of the time we have now."
"Right," he nods. He swallows the lump in his throat, trying to push away the guilt, the anger, the regret. "I just..."
"What?"
He lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping. "Do you ever think about what it could've been like? If we hadn't lost each other? If...things had gone differently, and the war had ended the way it was supposed to?"
"Yeah," you admit, and you give him a sad smile, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. "Sometimes."
"Me too," Hunter whispers. He pulls you closer, burying his face in your neck. You hold him there, your arms wrapping around him, and his hands drift up to clutch at the back of your shirt. He inhales deeply, taking in the scent of you, letting it fill him up, ground him.
"Sometimes I wonder," you murmur, your voice low, "what would've happened if we'd met in a different life. If we were just people, with no obligations or duties, no expectations or responsibilities. No wars, no battles, no death. Just us."
"A life together," he mumbles, the words muffled against your skin.
"Yeah," you say, and you sigh, a wistful sound that sends a pang through his chest. "A life together."
"We'd have a place like this," he says. He glances up at you, his chin resting on your chest. "A home."
You hum in agreement, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "We would."
"We'd be happy," he continues. He smiles at you, a small, sad thing, and your fingers trace the curve of his lips. "We'd have a family. Maybe even kids. And we wouldn't have to hide."
"We wouldn't," you agree, a tear slipping down your cheek. He reaches up, catching it before it can fall, and brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the dampness.
"I would've married you," he whispers. His voice breaks on the word, and he has to pause, taking a deep breath before continuing. "If I could. I would've married you, and given you everything I had."
"Hunter," you whisper, your voice breaking.
"I'm sorry," he sighs. "I just—"
"No, no," you cut him off with a shake of your head. You kiss him again, and he melts into it, the feel of your lips against his enough to soothe the ache in his chest.
"We could still have it," he breathes, his mouth moving over your jaw, the skin so soft and warm and inviting. "We could."
"I know," you reply, and you tilt your head back, allowing him access to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin, and you shudder, a whimper falling from your lips.
"Do you want it?" he asks, his voice low. He's not sure why he does, not sure what he wants the answer to be, but the question falls from his mouth without thought.
"More than anything," you admit, and Hunter feels his heart skip a beat.
"Then we'll make it happen," he promises. "If you'll have me."
"I already do," you whisper, and then you're kissing him again, harder this time, with more desperation, like you need to prove how much you mean it.
His hands wander, mapping out every curve, every contour, every inch of your body, and your own exploration isn't far behind, the two of you touching and caressing and stroking in a way that leaves him panting, his heart racing.
"Please," you whimper, and the sound goes straight to his cock.
"Anything," he rasps. "Whatever you want."
"I just want you."
"You have me," he breathes. "You'll always have me."
You're kissing him again, the desperation in your touch increasing with every second that passes. He feels like his entire body is on fire, like the slightest touch could set him off, and he groans into your mouth, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your lips.
He knows what you want, and he gives it to you without hesitation, his mouth opening wide as he dips his tongue inside, his fingers digging into your hips. You gasp, and he swallows the noise, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt.
He pulls it up and over your head, breaking the kiss for only a moment, and he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his gaze sweeping over every inch of exposed skin.
You're so beautiful, it almost hurts to look at you.
You stare back, your chest heaving, your eyes dark with lust. You're biting your lip, and his own mouth falls open, his eyes widening.
He doesn't say a word. He can't. His brain can't seem to form a coherent thought, not when you're looking at him like that, and he swallows, his eyes darting to the swell of your breasts. You're wearing a bra, but it's not much, a scrap of lace and silk that leaves nothing to the imagination. He can see the outline of your nipples, the stiff peaks pressing against the fabric, and he can't help but reach up and run his thumb over one, the contact making him shiver.
"Hunter," you whimper, your eyelids fluttering shut. He repeats the action, watching in fascination as your chest rises and falls, and he does it again, the soft whine that falls from your lips spurring him on.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his hand cupping your breast. "So perfect."
He leans down, his mouth closing over the soft mound, and he sucks gently, his tongue lapping at the hard nub through the fabric. Your back arches, a broken moan escaping your lips, and Hunter feels a rush of heat shoot through him, his cock straining against the confines of his pants.
"Fuck," he curses, his breath hot against your skin, his hands moving to undo his belt. It's a struggle, his fingers shaking, but he manages, tugging it free and tossing it to the side. As soon as it hits the ground, you're pushing his hands away, taking over, and he grins, letting you take the lead.
"Here, let me," you murmur as your fingers work to unclip his armor. He nods, sitting back on his hands and admiring the view as you remove each piece, dropping them to the floor. The way your brow furrows in concentration, the softness of your skin, the swell of your breasts as they rise and fall with every breath, the warmth of your hands, the gentleness of your touch, all of it sends another wave of heat crashing through him.
It's breathtaking, the sight of you, and Hunter can't help the pride that swells in his chest. It’s not the first time he’s felt it, the rush of joy that comes with seeing the woman he loves, but it still catches him off guard.
He wonders, briefly, if he'll ever get used to the feeling. If he ever stops being amazed by how incredible you are, how lucky he is to have found you.
"What are you thinking about?"
You're kneeling in front of him now, your hands resting on his knees, and the question startles him out of his thoughts.
"Nothing," he says, and you tilt your head to the side, giving him a knowing look. He chuckles, reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking along your jaw. "Just admiring the view."
"Oh, really?"
"Really," he replies, his gaze dropping to the exposed flesh of your chest. He can't stop himself from leaning forward, his fingers skimming along the lace, before brushing over the delicate skin of your cleavage.
"Hunter," you whimper, arching into him.
"Beautiful," he says. His eyes meet yours, a wicked grin pulling at his lips. "I can't wait to get my mouth on you."
You blush, the heat creeping up your neck, and Hunter chuckles, pulling you towards him. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your chest.
“But first,” he murmurs against your chest. His lips brush over your sternum, his nose skimming the tops of your breasts, and his hands find the waistband of your pants, tugging the fabric down. “I want to see all of you.”
You moan, letting him pull the material down your thighs, your eyes slipping shut as his hands glide along your legs. You step out of the clothing, them aside, and he takes the opportunity to remove his pants and shirt, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes.
You stand between his legs, staring down at him in nothing but your bra and panties, and Hunter has to take a deep breath. The sight of you is almost too much, the need coiling in his belly threatening to overwhelm him, but he manages to rein himself in.
"Gorgeous," he whispers. His hands are on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into the sensitive flesh. "Come here."
He pulls you into his lap, guiding you to straddle his hips, and you go willingly, settling yourself onto his thighs. He presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the skin, and you sigh, tilting your head to the side, granting him access.
"You smell so good," he murmurs. His nose traces the column of your neck, breathing in the sweet scent. It sends a thrill through him, a wave of desire surging forward, and his hips jerk involuntarily, grinding against yours. His cock is straining against the fabric of his underwear, aching for release, and he can't stop himself from groaning.
"Fuck," he rasps, his teeth scraping against your collarbone as you shift. You're moving against him, a slow roll of your hips, and Hunter can feel his restraint slipping.
"Hunter," you sigh. His mouth moves down, his lips trailing over the swell of your breast, his tongue darting out to lap at the lace covering your nipple.
"You're driving me crazy, sweetheart," he breathes, his breath hot against your skin. "The things I wanna do to you."
"What do you want to do to me?"
He can't stop the groan that escapes him. He grabs your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh, and tugs you down, grinding his clothed erection against you.
"Everything," he growls. His mouth moves along your neck, biting and sucking, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. "Anything you want. I'd do anything for you."
"Anything?"
"Mmhm," he murmurs, nuzzling your chest. He can't stop himself from licking and sucking, the taste of your skin intoxicating. His hands are roaming up and down your sides, squeezing and caressing, and you arch into him, your body reacting to his touch.
He slides a hand down your spine, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. He makes quick work of it, unhooking the latch and pulling the straps down your arms. You sit back, letting the fabric fall away, and he can't help but stare, his mouth hanging open.
Your nipples are hard, pebbled and straining, and he can't resist the urge to flick his tongue across one, teasing the stiff peak. You let out a whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he grins, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.
"Oh," you gasp. Your eyes are closed, your head tipped back, and Hunter smiles against your skin. He continues his assault, licking and sucking, his teeth grazing over the stiff nub.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" he purrs. You nod, a soft moan falling from your lips. He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, and you squirm in his lap, your hips rocking against his.
"Force, yes," you pant, tugging at his hair. "I missed this. Missed you."
"Me too, sweetheart," he murmurs. His hands move to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading, and you let out a shaky breath, rolling your hips against his. "I missed touching you, kissing you, being inside you."
"Yes," you whimper. His fingers are plucking at your nipples, pinching and tugging, and you grind down on his lap, desperate for friction. "Please, Hunter."
"Don't worry," he promises. He kisses his way up your chest, along the curve of your neck, and nips at your earlobe. "I'm gonna take care of you."
"Good," you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I've waited long enough."
"Too long," he agrees. He lifts his head, his gaze meeting yours. "But we've got all the time in the world."
You smile at him, cupping his face. For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other, neither saying a word. He can see the desire in your eyes, the need shining bright, but there's something else, something deeper, and his heart swells, his chest filling with warmth.
Then, without warning, Hunter flips you over, pressing you down into the mattress. He hovers above you, his weight resting on his forearms, and he smirks when you let out a surprised squeal.
"Hunter!"
"Hmm?" he hums, dipping his head to kiss the underside of your jaw. You arch into him, a soft moan escaping you.
"What are you—mm, that feels good," you sigh, tipping your head to the side.
"What's that, sweetheart?"
"Nothing," you murmur. Your arms are draped over his shoulders, your fingers threading through his hair. He presses a kiss to your throat, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin, and you groan. “Keep going.”
Hunter chuckles, his hands sliding up your thighs. He reaches your hips, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear.
"Lift your hips for me," he says, his breath ghosting across your ear. You obey, lifting yourself up off the mattress, and Hunter pulls the fabric down your legs. He tosses it over his shoulder, not bothering to see where it lands, before turning his attention back to you.
"Perfect," he breathes.
You're spread out in front of him, completely naked, your cheeks flushed, chest heaving, and he's mesmerized. It's not the first time he's seen you like this, but it's been too long, and his memory can't compare to the real thing.
He traces a finger along your inner thigh as he settles between your legs, his hand gliding over the soft flesh, and he watches as goosebumps erupt across your skin. You're trembling, the anticipation clear in your eyes, and Hunter grins, enjoying the effect he has on you.
"Tell me what you want," he says, his fingers ghosting along your slit. He's not surprised to find you wet, the scent of your arousal thick in the air, and he inhales deeply, relishing the familiar aroma.
"I want you," you whimper, your hips bucking upwards. He places a hand on your stomach, holding you down.
"How do you want me?"
"I don't care," you pant, reaching for him. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, your nails digging into the skin, and he bites back a groan. "I just need you. Please."
"Soon," he promises. He kisses your thigh, his lips trailing over the smooth flesh. "Let me take care of you first."
"You don't have to," you insist.
"Oh, I want to," he murmurs, his mouth inches from your center. "So badly."
"Oh," you moan, your back arching as his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin. You're trembling beneath him, and Hunter can't help but smile. It's intoxicating, knowing how badly you want him, and he can't stop the pride that swells in his chest.
His tongue flicks out, teasingly brushing against your folds, and you let out a breathy sigh, your body tensing.
"Stop teasing,” you plead.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he says, though he can’t find it in him to sound apologetic. His fingers part your folds, and his tongue slides through your slick heat, circling your entrance before dragging up to flick over your clit.
"Ah, fuck," you moan as your eyes roll back. Your hands are clutching the sheets, and he grins, swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. You gasp, your hips jerking, and he grabs them, holding you in place as he begins to lick and suck.
He wastes no time, his tongue and lips reacquainting themselves with your folds, and the taste of you is enough to make him dizzy. It's sweet and salty, familiar and unfamiliar, and Hunter can't get enough. He buries his face in your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue probes your entrance.
"Oh, Hunter, yes," you pant, your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair. He grins against you at the praise, his tongue plunging inside, and you let out a strangled moan.
He eats you out with enthusiasm, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He's not sure how long he spends there, his face buried between your thighs, his mouth sucking and licking at your cunt. It could be hours, or mere minutes, but he doesn't care. It's perfect, the feeling of you underneath him, the way your body writhes, the noises falling from your lips.
He fucks you with his tongue, his grip on your thighs tightening, and your back arches, a desperate whine escaping you.
"Fuck, yes, Hunter," you cry out, your legs wrapping around his head, locking him in place. He moans, his tongue plunging deeper, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He can't stop himself, his movements becoming frantic, desperate.
He needs more, craves it. Wants to feel you come apart, to know that it's his name on your lips. That it's his touch making you lose your careful composure.
"That's it," he groans, his breath hot against your pussy. "Come on my face, sweetheart."
He's not sure if it's the words or the way he thrusts his tongue inside, curling and stroking, but something sends you over the edge, and he's rewarded with a choked cry and a gush of slick heat as you clamp down around him.
Your toes curl, your back arching off the bed, and Hunter has to hold you down, his grip tightening as his mouth continues its relentless assault. Your walls pulse around him, clenching and releasing, and he lets out a growl, his tongue pushing deeper.
"Kriff," you moan, your hands clutching at his hair, pulling and tugging. He lets out a muffled groan, his eyes slipping shut, and he savors the feeling, the taste, the smell.
The fact that it's you, that he's the one who got you here, who made you come undone, is enough to send a wave of pleasure coursing through him. It's addicting, the feeling of having you like this, and he can't help the surge of satisfaction that comes with the knowledge that no one else has ever seen you this way. And if he has his way, no one ever will.
"Force, I missed that," he says once you finally relax, your legs falling from his shoulders. He licks his lips, grinning, and wipes his chin with the back of his hand.
"Me too," you breathe, propping yourself up on your elbows. "That was incredible."
"Yeah?" he asks, crawling up your body. He plants a kiss on your sternum, moving higher until his mouth finds yours. You return his messy kiss eagerly, moaning when you taste yourself on his tongue, and he chuckles, cupping your cheek.
"Mmhm," you sigh.
"Good," he murmurs, kissing you again. His tongue probes your mouth, searching for every last drop of sweetness. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, and he grunts, his cock twitching at the feeling.
"Need you," you whisper, breaking the kiss. Your hands slip down, coming to rest on his ass. You give him a squeeze, a playful grin on your lips, and Hunter can't stop the smirk that pulls at his mouth.
"Patience, sweetheart," he says. "We've got all the time in the galaxy."
"No," you shake your head, hooking your leg around his waist. You pull him closer, the hard line of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit, and you moan, grinding against him. "I need you now."
"Kriff," he groans, his head falling forward. The heat is radiating off of you, and he can't stop himself from pushing against you, seeking relief. "Yeah, alright. But I wanna take my time with you."
"We can take our time later," you promise. You tug at his underwear, pulling the fabric down his thighs, and he kicks them off, sighing in relief as his cock springs free. A pleased noise escapes you at the sight of him, hard and straining, and your other leg wraps around him, urging him on.
"Sweetheart," he breathes, his hips rolling. His cock is trapped between the two of you, sliding through your slick folds, and the sensation is almost too much.
"Please," you beg, tilting your hips upwards. You're soaking wet, the head of his cock sliding through the mess, and it's all he can do not to sink inside you.
"Fuck," he hisses. His grip on your waist tightens, and he presses a kiss to your neck, his lips tracing a path along the curve. You moan, arching into him, and he takes the opportunity to capture your lips in another messy kiss. He can feel the desire pouring off you, the need coursing through your veins, and it's overwhelming. He doesn’t even notice your legs tightening around him, not until you flip him over, and suddenly you're on top of him, straddling his lap.
"Shit," he gasps, his eyes wide. "That was—"
"Fast?" you finish. He nods, swallowing hard, and you laugh, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. “I think you forgot what I am, Hunter."
"Never," he whispers, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. He takes in the view, his eyes trailing over the length of your body, from the flush on your cheeks to the way your breasts sway with every breath, to the glistening wetness coating your thighs and the base of his cock. "You're incredible."
"Yeah?"
"Mmhm," he hums. His gaze drifts up, meeting yours, and he smiles, the sight of you making his heart swell. "You're perfect."
"I love you," you say, and Hunter can't help the warmth that spreads through him at the words. He's heard them a hundred times before, but each time, it still feels new. Like the first time.
"I love you, too," he replies. His fingers brush over your clit, gathering the wetness, and he slides his hand down, taking himself in his fist. "Ready?"
"Yes," you breathe.
You rise up onto your knees, placing a hand on his chest for balance, and Hunter guides himself to your entrance. His cock slides between your folds, the tip nudging at your entrance, and you both moan, the sound mixing together.
Hunter has to fight to keep his eyes open, to keep his hands steady. He wants to watch as you sink down on his cock, to see the pleasure wash over you as he fills you. He knows what it feels like, to be buried inside you, and it's always been intoxicating, but now? After everything that's happened, after the fear and the pain and the longing, to have you back in his arms?
It's beyond words. Beyond comprehension.
He doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve you.
But he'll never stop trying.
You let out a gasp as he pushes inside, his cock stretching and filling you, and Hunter has to grit his teeth, his hands tightening on your hips. The heat is incredible, the feeling of being buried deep inside, and he groans, the sound coming from deep within his chest.
"Fucking hell, sweetheart," he grunts. His eyes are locked on where the two of you are joined, watching as you slowly slide down the length of his cock. "You're so tight."
"It's been a while," you say, your breath coming in short pants. Your brow is furrowed, your teeth biting into your bottom lip, and Hunter has to bite back a groan.
"I know," he breathes. His hands caress your sides, his fingers skimming over the soft skin, and he feels your body relax. You're fully seated on his cock now, and Hunter can feel the way your cunt flutters around him, squeezing him tight. You tremble, and he reaches up, cupping your face.
"You alright?" he asks, stroking his thumb over your cheek. You nod, the corners of your mouth curling upwards.
"It's been a long time. Need a minute."
"Take all the time you need," he says.
"Thank you," you smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.
You sit there, staring into his eyes, the two of you just existing. He doesn't mind it. Doesn't care about anything other than the feeling of being inside you. He can't believe he forgot what this was like, how perfect it is, how much he loves it. How much he loves you.
The urge to keep you here, to never let you go, to keep you safe and warm and loved and happy is overwhelming, and he can't help but reach out, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. He wonders if this is what it feels like to drown. If this is how people describe being swept away, pulled under the waves by the current, never to surface again.
He wonders if this is what they mean when they talk about being lost in someone.
Because he is. He's completely and utterly lost. Lost in you. Lost in the warmth of your gaze, the softness of your touch, the scent of your skin, the feeling of your body surrounding him, your heart beating in sync with his own.
He knows, in this moment, that he's not just in love with you. That he's not just madly infatuated with the woman in his arms. He's lost, and there's no coming back. He's yours. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that you belong to him. That the two of you are bound together. That there's no one else for him. No one else he wants. Just you.
It's not the first time he's felt it, this overwhelming sense of love. But it's the first time it's hit him so hard. Maybe because it's the first time it's been this intense, this all-consuming. Maybe because it's the first time he's actually understood what it means. What it truly means.
Maybe because it's the first time he's truly believed it.
"Hunter?"
You're staring at him, concern etched across your features, and he realizes, with a start, that tears are rolling down his cheeks. He hadn't noticed.
"Sorry," he mutters, hastily wiping his face.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he says.
"Are you sure?" you ask. "Because I've never seen you cry before."
"I'm okay," he says, smiling softly. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed, I guess."
"You sure?"
"Yeah," he nods. He sits up, bracing his back against the headboard as his hands cup your cheeks. "I'm more than fine."
"Okay," you say, giving him a worried smile. His thumb smooths the crease between your brows, and he presses a gentle kiss in its place.
"I promise," he murmurs as he leans his forehead against yours. "I love you."
"Love you too," you whisper. You place a hand on his chest, just above his heart, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.
"I don't say it enough," he says, his voice hoarse. "But I mean it. Every time."
"I know," you assure him. You kiss his cheek, your lips trailing over the curve. "You don't have to say it. I know. I can feel it. I always have."
"Good," he sighs. His hands move up and down your back, the tips of his fingers gliding over your spine. "Never forget it."
"I won't," you promise.
He holds you there, your foreheads pressed together, your noses touching. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of you wash over him. It calms him, soothes him, and he feels his heart slow, his breathing evening out.
You shift, lifting your hips, and he gasps, the feeling of your cunt gripping his cock sending a jolt of pleasure through him. You smile, kissing the corner of his mouth.
"I'm okay," he whispers, his hands moving to grip your hips.
"Good," you say, your lips brushing over his. You start to move, rising up onto your knees before sinking back down. You both groan, the feeling of being joined sending a surge of warmth through him.
"Kriff," Hunter rasps as your hands find his shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscle, and you lift yourself up again, repeating the motion. His head falls back against the headboard with a dull thump, and you smile, your teeth scraping over the sensitive spot where his neck meets his shoulder.
"How's that feel?"
"So good," he breathes.
"Yeah?" you hum, rocking against him.
You're moving slowly, the pace torturous, and Hunter can't help but grind his hips upwards, trying to speed things along. You're having none of it, placing a hand on his chest, pushing him back against the bed.
"Slow," you order.
"Can't," he groans. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he pulls you down, forcing himself deeper as his hips buck up into you.
"Why not?"
"Need more," he pants.
"Hmm," you murmur, nipping at his throat. "I thought we were going to take our time."
"Changed my mind."
"Too bad," you smirk.
Your lips find his, capturing him in a heated kiss, and Hunter moans, his mouth parting for you. Your tongue sweeps through his mouth, seeking his own, and he can't stop the desperate noise that escapes him as you taste him. He tries to move, to thrust up into you, but a weight presses down on him, holding him in place. He knows without looking that the Force is holding him down, keeping him still, and a thrill runs through him, the realization making him even harder.
"Fuck," he hisses.
"What was that?"
"Kriff, I hate when you do that," he mutters, glaring up at you.
"Do what?" you ask, feigning innocence.
"That." He jerks his chin towards the invisible pressure pinning him to the bed. "You know exactly what."
"No idea what you're talking about," you grin. You're still moving, the movement slow and steady, and Hunter lets out a low whine, his eyes slipping shut.
"You're insufferable," he huffs, his head falling back.
"I think you're the one being insufferable," you tease, placing a hand on his chest. You run your fingers through the coarse hair, dragging them down until they brush over the base of his cock. "If I recall, you were the one who said we should take our time."
"Well, maybe I was wrong."
"Oh, I don't know," you say, your fingers tracing the edge of his hip bone. "I think it's nice."
"It is," he concedes, hissing as you squeeze his balls. "But it's not enough."
"No?"
"No," he says, opening his eyes. He looks up at you, taking in the sight. Your skin is flushed, your lips swollen and parted, your eyes glassy and filled with desire. He swallows hard, his hands tightening on your hips. He knows there will be marks tomorrow, a reminder of what happened tonight, and the thought makes him twitch inside you.
"So impatient," you tut.
"Yeah," he agrees. "You're so kriffing gorgeous. And I want you so badly. Always. I can't get enough of you."
"Hunter," you gasp, grinding down on him.
"Yeah," he breathes, his eyes drifting down to where the two of you are joined. Your cunt is stretched tight around his cock, and Hunter lets out a moan, the sight making his mouth water. He's always loved watching you take his cock, loved the way it looked as it slid in and out of your wet heat, loved the way it felt, being inside you. But now, after everything? After almost losing you?
"Force, I can't get over how beautiful you are," he whispers.
You're moving faster now, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease, and the room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing.
"Fuck," you cry out as he hits that spot deep inside, and Hunter lets out a grunt, his hands finding your breasts.
"There you go," he says. He palms the soft flesh, his fingers finding your nipples, and he pinches them, rolling the stiff buds between his thumb and forefinger.
"Oh," you moan, arching into his touch. "Oh, that feels good."
"Yeah?" he breathes.
"Yes," you nod, rocking against him. You're bouncing on his cock, the bed shaking with each thrust, and Hunter can't tear his eyes away. He's transfixed, unable to look anywhere else. You're a vision, sweat beading on your brow, your body trembling as the pleasure builds.
His hands find your ass, pulling you down onto his cock, and he can feel the muscles flexing beneath his fingertips. He can feel his climax approaching, his balls tightening, the pressure building. He's not ready for this to end, not yet, so he grits his teeth, biting the inside of his cheek.
"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he pants, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass, squeezing and groping.
"Mmhm," you nod. You're leaning forward now, your hands braced on his chest as you ride him. Your nails rake across his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake, and his hips twitch, trying to thrust up into you. The weight keeps him in place, and he lets out a frustrated groan.
"That's it," he coos. He can feel the tension in your thighs, the way your legs are shaking, and he knows you're close. He grips your ass tighter, helping you keep pace, and you whimper, your movements becoming erratic.
"Please," you plead, and he can't deny you, not when you're begging.
His fingers find your clit, his thumb rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves. Your head falls forward, your hair falling over your face, and Hunter reaches up, brushing the strands aside.
"Come for me," he says, his voice hoarse. “Come for me, and then I’m gonna fill you up."
"Yes," you gasp.
"You wanna feel it, don't you?" he murmurs. He's barely holding on now, the heat pooling in his belly threatening to overwhelm him. "Want me to fill you up, mark you as mine. Make you mine."
"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, grinding against him. "More, please, please, please, I need—"
He flicks his thumb over your clit, pressing down hard. Your breath hitches, your walls fluttering around his cock, and Hunter watches, mesmerized, as you shudder above him. You're staring at him, your pupils blown wide, your hair a mess, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.
"There it is," he growls. The weight pressing down on him disappears, and he grabs your waist, flipping you over. Your back hits the mattress, your legs wrapped around his hips, and he pounds into you, chasing his own release.
"Yes," you cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your mouth finds his, swallowing his moans, as his cock pistons in and out of your dripping cunt.
He fucks you, hard and fast, the bed creaking underneath the two of you. You're clinging to him, your nails scratching his back, and he knows there will be marks, knows that he's probably hurting you, but he can't stop, can't slow down. He's so close, the pressure building, the pleasure coiling deep inside, and he's desperate for it, his thrusts becoming frantic.
"Gonna fill you up," he gasps.
"Please," you beg, and that's all it takes.
His orgasm hits him hard, and he cries out, his hips jerking erratically as he spills inside you. He buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking, and you whimper, your legs tightening around his waist.
"Fuck, yes," you groan, and Hunter can feel the warmth of his spend leaking out of you, the mess coating his cock, dripping down his thighs. It's intoxicating, and he can't stop himself from thrusting deeper, trying to make sure every drop is buried inside you.
"Oh, Hunter," you moan. Your hands are on his ass, pulling him closer, urging him on. He grinds his hips against you, and you sigh, a lazy smile spreading across your lips.
"Good?" he asks, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
"Perfect," you whisper. You cup his face, and he leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering as he savors the feeling.
He doesn't want to move, doesn't want to let go. He's perfectly content to stay like this, holding you, his cock buried deep inside you, your hands stroking his face. You're watching him, your eyes roaming over his body, and he preens under the attention, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Well," he huffs, "I hope that was worth the wait."
"It was," you nod. You pull him closer, his head resting on your chest, and he lets out a sigh, his body relaxing.
"You alright?" he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the swell of your breast.
"Mmhm," you nod. Your hands are tracing patterns over his skin, fingers trailing across his back, and he can't help but shiver, goosebumps erupting in their wake.
"I'm not too heavy?"
"Not at all," you say. Your fingers move up, combing through his hair, and Hunter practically purrs, a low rumble rising from his chest.
"Good," he sighs. He tilts his head, his nose brushing against the hollow of your throat, and he inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal still thick in the air. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and he shivers, the sensation sending a tingle down his spine.
"Hey," you murmur, and he hums in response. He shifts his weight, settling his elbows on either side of your head, and kisses your cheek.
"Hi," he whispers, his breath ghosting across your skin. He leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. You return the kiss eagerly, a soft moan escaping you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he goes willingly, his hips grinding against you.
"Mm, again?" you giggle, your teeth scraping over his bottom lip.
"If you're up for it," he says, grinning.
"I'm always up for it," you smirk. You roll your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist. He's still half-hard, his cock slowly swelling, and he can't stop the groan that rumbles in his chest.
"Good." Hunter grins, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you."
"Well, we've got plenty of time," you breathe.
"Plenty," he echoes, his hands finding your hips. "Let's make the most of it, then."
And he does.
He spends the rest of the night worshiping you, his mouth and hands mapping every inch of your skin. He leaves no part of you untouched, his lips and tongue and fingers exploring every inch, and you do the same. The two of you take turns, exploring and teasing, pleasuring and loving, until you're both too exhausted to continue.
Afterwards, you lie together, his arm draped over your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck. Hunter inhales deeply, the familiar scent filling his nostrils, and he lets out a content sigh. He can feel the ache in his limbs, and he's suddenly aware of how tired he is. He doesn't remember the last time he slept, and he can't even recall the last time he was able to relax. It feels like forever since he's felt this good, this safe.
This happy.
"I love you,” you murmur as you press a kiss to the top of his head.
"I love you, too," he whispers, his voice thick.
"I know," you chuckle, and he smiles against your neck.
You're both still breathing hard, chests heaving, bodies sticky with sweat, and he revels in the feeling, his arms tightening around you. He can't stop himself from kissing you, peppering your neck with gentle kisses, his lips ghosting over the delicate skin.
He makes his way up to your jaw, then your cheek, before finally meeting your mouth. It's slow, tender, filled with a sense of intimacy he hasn't felt in a long time, and it's enough to make him tear up. His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin, and he closes his eyes, savoring the moment.
He never thought he'd have this. Never thought he'd get a chance.
And now that he does? Now that he's got you here, in his arms, where he's meant to be?
"I'm not letting you go again," he mumbles, his forehead pressed against yours. "I don't care what it takes, I'm not letting anyone or anything take you from me."
"Hunter," you start, but he cuts you off.
"I know. I know, you can handle yourself, you're more than capable. I know all that. But I'm still going to be there. I'm always going to be there."
"I know," you say, your hand cupping his cheek.
"Do you?"
His eyes search yours, searching for any hint of hesitation, any sign of doubt. He finds none. Just warmth. Just love.
"Yes," you whisper.
"Good," he nods. He pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of seeing you like this, bare and vulnerable, looking at him like that. Like he's the only person who matters.
"I meant what I said earlier," he says. "About wanting a family. A future."
"Me too," you smile.
"Really?"
"Yes," you nod, placing a hand on his chest. Your fingertips trace over the curve of his collarbone, and he shivers. "I want that with you. I always have."
"Even after everything?"
"Especially after everything," you assure him. "I've always wanted a future with you, Hunter. Ever since we met. I know you're scared. I am too. But I love you, and I want this. Us. All of it."
"Okay," he says, smiling.
"Okay," you repeat, returning the smile.
He pulls you into another kiss, his hand cradling the back of your neck, and the two of you stay like that, kissing and touching and loving, until exhaustion takes over. You curl up against him, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, and he feels his eyes begin to droop. He can't remember the last time he was this relaxed, the last time he was this comfortable. The last time he felt so safe. So loved.
And for the first time in a long time, Hunter doesn't worry. He doesn't stress. He doesn't plan.
Instead, he closes his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, and he lets the world fade away.
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Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia
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@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams
293 notes · View notes
mmhcs · 2 months
Text
Say It With Your Chest
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Warnings: None, maybe an emotionally constipated Miguel if that's not your thing
"Why don't you just confess?"
Miguel O'Hara shakes his head for the umpteenth time in the past hour.
Ay coño, how did he get here? he silently wonders, looking at Peter B. alongside quite literally the entire Spider Society—save for you—squeezed into his office.
It all started at around noon when Peter B. had walked up into his office both unceremoniously and unannounced. Today, he was without his daughter Mayday, making his steps quieter than they had been in the past few months. Unlike most days when he would call out for his (self-proclaimed) best buddy, this time Peter B. simply waited to be acknowledged, seeing that Miguel was in the middle of a squabble with Lyla.
"...Miguel, why don't you just say something?" she asked rather concerned. "The worst that could happen is that you get shot down. But if that happens then it just means that you're one step closer to finding The One."
The One?
Peter's eyebrow quirked upwards in curiosity and interest.
For as long as he's known Miguel O'Hara, Peter had never heard Miguel discuss dating, marriage, or anything romotely related to the realm of romance for that matter.
But now—now Miguel possibly had a crush? Someone who he was interested in and, judging by Lyla's words, wanted to pursue?
Peter had to know more.
But just as he opened his mouth to chime in, Miguel spoke.
"Lyla, please," he said, waving his hand as if to shoo her away. "We don't need to discuss this."
"But we do!" Lyla exclaimed, throwing her arms up the air. "Miguel, this could be the start of something. Who knows? Maybe one day you two will get married, have some children—"
"Lyla!"
"Sorry, sorry!" Lyla said, this time truly apologetic.
Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please, Lyla, this—whatever this is—" he spread his arms, gesturing to something that wasn't there "—doesn't matter. It will go away in a few weeks, give or take and—"
"But it's been months! Almost a year!"
Almost a year?
Okay, now Peter really had know more about this little crush of Miguel’s.
"Lyla!" Miguel sighed again. "(Y/N)—how am I supposed to talk to someone who barely shows up at HQ? It's not like I have much wiggle room here,"
"But you do have a best friend who is friends with (Y/N) and as of today has a burning desire to see you two together!" Peter finally spoke up.
From there, Miguel’s day went downhill. At first, it was just Peter. Which, though not ideal, was fine. But then Jess came in and after her Ben Reilly, then Miles, Gwen, Hobie, and Pavitr...And then before Miguel knew it, quite literally the entire Spider Society was in his lab, talking over one another as they shouted useless love advice.
Except you.
It always irked Miguel that you preferred to limit your time at HQ as much as possible. But today—today he couldn't be more grateful for your choice.
"Hey, what's going on in here?"
He spoke too soon.
The entire room goes silent and every Spider including Miguel turns to face you.
"Uh...hi?" You give a sheepish wave of your hand.
"(Y/N)!" Peter exclaims. "So great to see you!"
Miguel winces at how overtly friendly Peter is being right now. If he's behaving like this then he can only imagine how the other Spiders will act.
"It's great to see you too, Peter," you say, glancing around. There are so many Spiders in here. Some of them you haven't even spoken to before. "And everybody. I'm sorry if I'm interrupting—or should have been here. I don't know. I just dropped by to ask about my schedule for this week."
"Oh, your schedule?" Peter's mouth shifts to one side of his face as he puts a hand on his chin. "Hmm, well, while I personally don't know anything about that, I think you should ask my pal Miguel."
"Okay..."
All the eyes in the room fell back to Miguel like dominoes. Hums of agreement with Peter's sentiments begin to echo throughout the room.
"So, about my schedule..." you say once you are face-to-face with Miguel.
You glance around between every sentence or two, seemingly painfully aware of how crowded the room is and how many people are eagerly watching your interaction. It causes something to stir within Miguel, seeing you so uncomfortable and nervous.
"...I will email you your schedule again," Miguels explains, trying to act as normal as possible. "I did before but it seems that something hasn't went through properly. For now, you have nothing scheduled, though. You can go home and relax."
Miguel swears that he hears a few awwws from the masses.
"As for the rest of you," he begins, now addressing the hoards of unwelcome visitors. He's let this go on for far longer than it should have. "I am certain that at least two quarters of you have some type of assignment to do. I suggest that you all stop dilly-dallying and get back to work because though you do not have paychecks, you will have to work late tonight if everything isn't finished at the appropriate time."
There is a collective groan amongst all the Spiders as the door opens and they begin to file out of Miguel’s office. You stifle a giggle at the pairs of sad yet uneven eyes you see.
Before Peter leaves, he turns to you two and gives Miguel two thumbs up that you imagine to be directed at Miguel. He is Peter's best buddy after all.
"Was there an impromptu meeting that I wasn't told about?" you ask, turning to face Miguel as soon as you two are alone.
Though this is technically not a job and you do prefer to be in your own universe rather than at HQ, you still wanted to fulfill your duties and be a committed member to the team.
"No, there was no meeting," Miguel reassures you as he turns away and begins walking to his platform. "There was a...matter that the others found particularly interesting. It was all Peter's idea, really."
Judging by the annoyance in his voice, you think that you should be glad that you missed whatever transpired earlier.
"Oh, okay then," You nod. "If I'm not needed then I'll be returning to my universe for the rest of the day. Goodbye, Miguel. Goodbye, Lyla."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next day you and Peter B. are strolling through the cafeteria of the Spider Society, munching on empanadas.
You occasionally glance down at his once again empty baby carrier—Mayday was upstate, attending the birthday party of her maternal cousins, Peter explained earlier—finding it abnormal to see him without the young girl that the entire Spider Society has grown to love.
"So, what was so interesting that everyone had to gather in Miguel's office to discuss yesterday?" you ask.
You often felt like you came in to HQ at the wrong times. Always after something happens. You were rarely ever there to be apart of the moment and often had to resort to asking your friends to fill you in. And normally that sufficed. But this time—whatever it was that had happened yesterday obviously had HQ in a chokehold.
"Oh, what, yesterday?" Peter scoffed, waving a shaky hand. "Oh please, yesterday; who even talks about the past like that? Today is tomorrow's yesterday."
"Come on, Peter!" you whine, slightly nudging him. "I know it has something to do with Miguel. Everyone has been talking about how weird he was acting yesterday before I came in—What was it? Is he okay?"
"Okay? Miguel is more than okay," Peter laughs. "He's fine. Really fine actually, don't you think?"
"Uh-huh..." You nod, not knowing how to respond to that last comment. You've grown to learn that a part of Miguel and Peter's friendship also included not-so-subtle innuendos from Peter.
"Don't worry about him—he's great. Fantastic. Nothing wrong with him. Or nothing more than the usual at least."
You know Peter is lying. But what you don't know is why.
Normally, Peter B. Parker is an open book. He'll tell you about Mayday's gassiness, show you a picture he took of a thing that he thought was cool, tell you about all of his favorite sports teams, or how he and MJ finally got a night to themselves and how amazing it was. Nothing is a secret with this man.
Until now.
It makes your curiosity double.
"Peter..." you start, trying to put on your best set of puppy dog eyes. "Come on, just tell me. You said that Miguel is fine—is it something embarrassing? You don't have to tell me if it is but I just—everyone is talking about it. You can't even get through the coffee line without being asked about 'it'."
Peter's nervous expression softens into a frown for a second.
He feels bad. Really, really bad.
On the one hand, he wants to tell you. He really does. He doesn't like it when others feel left out. Especially you. You're not known to frequent HQ unlike so many other Spiders and he knows how much that affects your social status amongst the rest.
But on the other hand, he can't tell you. Because it's Miguel's secret. Probably one of the deepest, most darkest ones he's had in a long time. What kind of best friend would Peter be if he told you?
It's already bad enough that the rest of the Spider Society knows. They've been teasing the poor guy to no end about his crush on you.
Peter bites down on his lip. Oh, the woes of being so friendly and trusted.
"Hey guys, what’s going on?" Gwen Stacy waves at the two of you.
Behind her is Hobie, Miles, and Pavitr who give you and Peter their own forms of greeting as well.
"Gwen," you say almost desperately and Peter gets nervous. He looks at all four of the kids, silently begging them to keep quiet.
"Do you know what happened yesterday with Miguel? Everyone's been talking about it all day and I feel like if one more person says something about whatever it is, my brain is going to explode."
Now Gwen seems to have been bitten by the same nervous bug that Peter was when you asked him previously.
Her eyes widen and she begins looking at everything but you.
"Oh, that?" she laughs nervously. "That was nothing. You know how everyone likes to rag on Miguel. Right, guys?"
The only one who backs her up is Miles. And his response does more damage as he says, "Who's Miguel?"
You sigh, facepalming.
"Hobie, you'll tell me, right?" you half-ask, half-plea.
"Sorry, mate," Hobie shrugs, a smirk on his face. "Information's kind of classified."
Okay, now you really want to know what happened yesterday. Not even Hobie will tell you? Something monumental must have happened yesterday.
Still desperate, you turn your gaze to Pavitr who immediately tenses.
"Don't look at me!" he says, frantically waving his hands in front of his chest. "I don't know anything!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The day after next, you find yourself standing outside of Miguel’s office.
Though Miguel promised that he would resend you your schedule for the week, you have yet to receive it. And it's already Thursday. You don't even want to think about how many assignments you've missed. You'll probably have to stay late next week, so much so that you may even catch a glimpse of the mythical "zombie Miguel" that spends the night at HQ and only comes out of his office for coffee.
Or so you've heard from other Spiders.
You knock on the door once before entering.
"Miguel?" you say both in greeting and question. "I wanted to talk to you about my schedule; I've still yet to receive it and—"
"Leave."
You stop dead in your tracks. Once again, you've heard about the infamous "moody Miguel" but you've yet to encounter him.
"Did you hear what I said? Leave and I'll make sure that I get to it as soon as I can. I'm busy right now."
You look up and see Miguel focused on his screens, typing away.
A bit of relief flows through your body. Miguel isn't in a bad mood; he's focused. Probably doing something very tedious and imperative to the Multiverse's ensurance—
"(Y/N)?" Now Miguel has looked up from his screen and his eyes are on you, studying you intently. "You still didn't get your schedule yet? I've emailed that to you about a thousand times now."
"You have?" you frown, checking your watch. You haven’t gotten anything from him.
"Yes, is there something wrong with your watch?"
With a wave of Miguel's hand, the screens disappear.
"I don't know," you say, staring down at your wrist. "Maybe there's an update or two that I missed? Whatever it is, don't worry about it. If could please just tell me what I have assigned, I'll be out of your hair in two seconds."
"You can't leave," Miguel tells you with a sterness that makes your heart jump a little. He must see the fear in your eyes because he softens then explains, "I think that there's something wrong with your watch. You can't leave until I at least inspect it. Walking around with a damaged watch could have consequences that I think we would both like to not deal with. You can put on a day pass and chat with Lyla in the meantime."
"Are you sure?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, I'm sure," Miguel says as Lyla silently flickers into existence, a day pass in her hand. "I know I told you to leave earlier but that was just because I thought that you were another Spider. I...I've been trying to avoid them all week."
"Is this about your..." you trail off, not wanting to breach the subject.
Miguel's eyes widen. He feels his heart rate pick up and his limbs freeze in place.
"It's okay, I don't know anything!" you quickly reassure him. "Not a single soul would tell me today! Not Peter, not Hobie—and believe you me, I tried to get them to."
A little smile creeps onto Miguel's face at that. Maybe some people can keep a secret.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter B. Parker is estatic. Proud. Elated. Overjoyed.
Over the past few weeks, you and Miguel have been spending more time together. And that could only mean one thing. That Miguel finally confessed his feelings for you and that you two were dating. Or at least seeing where things go.
And Peter couldn't be happier for the two of you.
Yes, he does miss having his best buddy (you, of course) to sit and devour cafeteria food with but he understands what it's like to be in that honeymoon phase with your partner where all you want to do is be around them.
He sees the way that Miguel smiles at you when you're not looking, how a look of absolute and utter softness overtakes his features each time he glances at you. Peter gets it. And he's happy to see his bestest pal in the whole Multiverse finally get the love that he deserves.
"Hey, Peter!" you call from down the hall.
"Well, well, well, look who it is," Peter crossed his arms and pops a hip to mimic a sassy pose. "You finally got a chance to come and visit me, eh?"
"Peter," you laugh, playfully swatting his shoulder. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about how you suddenly get a tall, handsome boyfriend and abandon me!" Peter huffs. "I haven't seen you in a week! I had to eat empanadas in the cafeteria by myself yesterday morning. Do you know how much of a sad, old lonely fool I looked like!?"
You can't help but giggle at Peter's dramatics.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Peter," you say. "How about we go and get lunch right now? Miguel and I are supposed to head out on a patrol later this afternoon and I need all the fuel that I can get; he goes so fast sometimes,"
"Ugh, you lovebirds sicken me."
You quirk an eyebrow at Peter. Does he actually think that you and Miguel are dating?
"Ha-ha Peter, very funny..." you deadpan. "Miguel and I aren't dating; we're just friends."
"You are!?!"
Why did he seem genuinely upset by that?
"Yes?" You give Peter a look of concern. Has he lost his marbles?
"Uh, (Y/N), you go to the cafeteria and grab us some food and seats. I'll be right back—I have to go do something."
Without further explanation, Peter rushes past you, giving you no time to question him further.
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"Lyla, what time is it?"Miguel asks.
Though he knows that the outing between you and him is not taking place until a couple of hours later, he knows that he has a tendency to get lost in his work and, before he knows it, the hours have slipped away like water.
It's why he normally prefers to go on patrols alone but you had insisted on coming, claiming that you wanted to explore other universes—especially the one that housed the Society—and, well, who was he to deny a Spider the opportunity to learn more? And you—his friend—no less?
Miguel takes in a deep breath, his chest growing tight and fuzzy as memories of you flood his mind.
He moves to go back to work when he hears the door of his laboratory slam open.
"Miguel!" Peter yells.
He sighs. This couldn't be good.
"You didn’t confess!?!"
Miguel freezes.
Mierda.
235 notes · View notes
0nerd-at-heart0 · 8 months
Text
The Case Continues
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A/N: Thank you for ALL the love and support on my latest fic!!!! ♥ After not writing for a year it felt weird to write again but y'all have been so sweet, so truly thank you to all of you. I just finished 2 of midterms and there was this guy behind me on one of my tests coughing like crazy so now I am sick. While I should take this opportunity to study for the LSATS now that I am stuck in bed, I just had to continue writing. As long as you all continue reading I am more than happy to continue writing. If you want to be added or taken out of the taglist please DM me :) 
P.S. : I used the stars to break down the sections for myself as I wrote and kept them in, if they are weird or unhelpful let me know so I can get rid of them and as always feedback is always welcomed
Taglist: @happy74827 @princessvader15 @hashcakes @malfoys-demigod @yiiiikesmish
Word Count: 5.5 k
Warnings: sexual harassment, cursing, pet name like sweetheart, mentions of food and eating (any more warnings that I missed please let me know)
There will be a part 3 after this one, still writing it but if you haven’t please check out the Part 1:  The Stress of a Case
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ
As you finished the last bite of your meal in Rachel’s office, a comfortable silence settled between you and Harvey.  Harvey leaned back in his chair, and a sense of relief seemed to wash over his face, "You did well today, Y/N. We'll get through the Jackson case. I promise. Whatever it takes.”
You offered a small, appreciative smile, acknowledging the sentiment. "Thanks, Harvey. It means a lot."
You stared at the clock and the realization that it was time to head home crept in. Harvey, ever the gentleman, offered you a ride, “Come on, I’ll take you home.” He stood up moving the desk back to how he found it and picked up the trash. 
However, your need for control and familiarity after the recent panic attack made you decline the ride, "Thanks for the offer, Harvey, but I think I'll take my own car tonight."
A small, almost imperceptible frown flashed across Harvey's face, quickly replaced by his usual composed expression. "Alright." was all he could stammer out. 
After parting ways, you walked towards the parking lot, keys in hand. As you drove home alone, a subtle sense of curiosity lingered. What if you had accepted Harvey's offer? What could have unfolded in the confined space of his car, free from the walls of the office? 
The thought nagged at you as you navigated the familiar streets, feeling your head cooling off. Rolling down the window to allow the fresh air to overflow your senses  There was a part of you that wished you knew the answer, a desire to unravel the mysteries that lay hidden beneath the surface of your professional relationship with the Harvey Specter.
The next few days went by pretty fast. All days felt the same . It was a routine of restless nights as your mind was clear yet foggy on your night with Harvey. Nervous yet excited on what the following days would bring. You woke up early every day to go to your favorite coffee spot. But every day you spent it at your desk going through Amir related emails and one day you spent the day researching organic cat food for Louis. You haven't even had the chance to really see or talk to Harvey, not that you were keeping track ( 3 times he has spoken to you). 
But about 10 days after the incident, here you were, standing in the elevator, expecting to be another calm day of going through Amir’s associates emails with Rachel.
But when the elevators dinged,  the beautiful face of  Donna Paulsen appeared as the door opened.  She stood there waiting for you and without saying a word she turned on her heel and gestured for you to follow her. And like a loyal puppy you followed Donna through the corridors, her signature click-clacking heels echoing in the hallways as you tried to keep you.
As you walked, Donna’s voice boomed,  efficiently providing a rundown of the latest developments in the Amir Jackson case. Apparently, Amir had signed a contract with his brother-in-law’s firm, and Harvey was currently breaking it down in his office to find any potential weaknesses or loopholes. You were confused but eager to understand your role in all this, so you did your best to keep up with Donna's brisk pace. The details of the case were important, but the question of why Donna was sharing them with you lingered in the back of your mind.
Donna approached Harvey's office, she shot you a sly smile and motioned for you to enter. The door creaked open, revealing Harvey Specter engrossed in his work. Donna whispered, "You wanted to be in the big leagues; well, here you go."
Harvey was seated at his desk, a stack of papers spread out before him. Mike Ross was leaning against the wall, and both turned their attention to you as you entered.
Donna, standing in the doorway, mouthed, "You got this."
It dawned on you—this wasn't just an update on the case. Donna had orchestrated this moment for a reason. You were being given a seat at the table, an opportunity to contribute to a high-stakes strategy session. The realization sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins. Harvey was keeping his word after all. 
 Harvey and Mike acknowledged your presence, you straightened your posture and mentally prepared to engage in the battle of wits that lay ahead.  You are ready to keep up and prove your worth beyond your typing skills. 
Mike walks up to you handing you a file, and you take a seat. Knowing the breakdown you take out your colorful pack of highlighter ready to color coordinate. Purple for potential loopholes, yellow for things to research, blue for important dates and green for  contacts. 
Harvey couldn't help but notice you being meticulously organized. With a smirk, he quipped, "Really, Y/N? Color-coordinated highlighters? Are we in kindergarten?"
You, shot back with a playful smile, "Well, Harvey, some of us appreciate a little order and aesthetic appeal. It's called professionalism."
Harvey raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the quick retort. "Professionalism, huh? I prefer the classic black and white approach. Simple and effective."
You without looking up from your file said, "Well, Harvey, sometimes a splash of color can make things more interesting. Maybe you should try it sometime.” Reaching down to your highlighter bag you pulled one out handing it to him, “Here, I think pink suits you”
He takes it from your hand, not backing down, “You know if your legal skills were as efficient as your highlighting skills we would be done with these files already”
You retorted, “Well, Harvey, if your people skills were as smooth as your hair, we'd have won the case yesterday."
Mike, who had been silently working, looked up with a bewildered expression, unsure of how the banter had suddenly transformed into a flirtatious exchange. He blinked, processing the unexpected turn of events.
Harvey  leaned against the table and raised an eyebrow. "Smooth hair, huh? You're just jealous, Y/N."
"Oh, please," you replied with a smirk, "I've seen smoother hair on a mannequin."
Mike, now thoroughly confused, looked between Harvey and you, trying to decipher when this banter became a new development. 
Before anything can go any further there is a knock at Harvey’s door, it was Rachel. After hearing from Mike about your little fainting incident, she was kind of overbearingly persistent on making sure you were eating and were okay no matter how much you told her you were fine.  Despite your reassurances that the incident of passing out was a one-time occurrence and that you were doing better, Rachel continued to express her care in thoughtful ways.
Today was no exception. Rachel asked to borrow you for a moment. Excusing yourself from your work, you followed Rachel outside the office. She had a warm smile on her face and a bagel in her hand, with your name on it.
"Hey, I know you said you're doing better, but I thought you might need a little pick-me-up," Rachel said, offering you the bagel.
You couldn't help but smile at Rachel's thoughtful gesture. "Thanks, Rachel. You really don't have to keep doing this, but I appreciate it."
Rachel chuckled, "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Consider it my way of making sure you stay fueled and ready to tackle anything."
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While you were outside having that conversation with Rachel, Mike couldn't help but seize the opportunity for a little teasing. Looking at Harvey with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he remarked, "What was that?"
Harvey, ever the master of composure, shot Mike a sharp look. "Shut up and focus, Mike," he retorted, trying to divert attention back to the files.
Mike, undeterred by Harvey's attempt to change the subject, leaned back with a playful grin. "Oh, you're definitely focused on something," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Harvey rolled his eyes, realizing that he might have just opened himself up to a barrage of teasing from Mike. 
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You returned to the office with the bagel in hand, you tucked it away in your bag without giving it much thought. However, Harvey's raised eyebrow didn't go unnoticed. He questioned, "Aren't you going to eat that?"
Unbeknownst to you, the hesitation stemmed from a lingering unease about eating near files, especially in front of Harvey—thanks to the hot Cheeto incident. Harvey, catching on to your reluctance, decided to assertively intervene, "Eat."
You raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Bossy much, Harvey?"
Harvey quickly adds, “Well I am the boss”.
Mike, always quick to jump into the banter, chimed in, "Hey, wait a minute. Rachel didn't get me a bagel."
Harvey, in his usual deadpan manner, responded, "Deal with your relationship drama outside the office”
Mike mumbled to himself though directed at Harvey “you deal with your relationship drama outside the office” as he turned over to the next file. 
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Without hesitation you grabbed another file, opening it  up you saw on one of the clauses of the contract that it said,  “Keep an appropriate reputation”.
You spoke up, “Have we been able to contact his brother in law?”
“Louis is currently on that”, Harvey said nonchalantly.  
“Louis?!?!”, the shock in your voice was not hidden at all as your hand went to cover you mouth,
“See even she is shocked’’, Mike gestured towards you as he closed his file. 
“Mike you are  going to have a deposition with Amir in about an hour and I got to prep you. As much as I'd rather have you do it,” Harvey eyes quickly glance at you before returning to the file in his hand, “I don’t have time to walk you through it, plus Jessica said I have to throw Louis a bone”, Harvey mumbles the last bit. 
You nodded, understanding that you were too green to already start interviewing people without supervision. 
After an hour of underlining and highlighting things they may be able to use against him, Harvey dismissed you and Mike to prepare for meeting Amir. You gave Mike a questioning look as you exited the office.
The door closed and you could have sworn you heard music playing. 
“He has a whole routine when he has a stressful case”, Mike said as he handed Donna a piece of paper to fax. 
“Whoa, you are just going to share Harvey’s secrets like that”, Donna added. 
“She is part of the group now, she deserves, nay she needs to know”, Mike defensively argued
Donna playfully rolled her eyes and all you can do is laugh. 
“Imma go to the conference room and set everything up”, Mike then turned on his heels. 
“Why are you meeting with Amir?”, you couldn't help the question come out of your mouth.
“Jessica and Harvey believe he is trying to get in our heads”, Mike causally stated like this is somehow normal, “anyway see you afterwards”. 
You headed down to the bullpen with a couple of files in hand for you to review. The bullpen was empty, you saw a memo on your desk that Jessica was holding a mock trial for the associates. You believed she was doing this to boost morale. It's been 3 weeks since the Jackson case was first assigned and every day the stress of the case becomes more evident in not only the partners but everyone. 
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All that can be heard was the click-clack of your keyboard as you diligently worked on a memo at your cubicle in. A man walked it, he didn't go unnoticed as he leaned against the wall, a smirk playing on his face.
"Working hard or hardly working, sweetheart?" he said with a smug grin.
Startled by his words, you looked up to fully take in this strange man, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. 
"What can I do for you?", you let out an annoyed breath. 
He wasn't unattractive, tall, seemed to be built, his dark hair slicked back and his tan figure was highlighted with a beautifully tailored suit. 
He ignored your attempt to deflect his trashy pickup line  as he leaned in, invading your  personal space. "You know, I am here to see Mike Ross, but I would rather be seeing you. What do you say we grab a drink sometime?"
You noticed a wedding ring on his hand and that added to your discomfort which was palpable, and  you glanced around, searching for a way out of the situation. Amir Jackson was standing right before you in all his dirty lawyer glory. Before you could respond, the familiar sound of a door swinging opening  caught your attention. Harvey Specter stormed into view, his expression colder than the usual glacial demeanor he reserved. 
"Amir, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Harvey's tone was razor-sharp, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.
Amir straightened up, his confident facade faltering in the face of Harvey's iciness. "Just trying to get to know the beautiful talent that sits before me" he replied, attempting to play it off.
Harvey's jaw clenched, and he stepped forward, his presence dominating the small cubicle. "This is not the time or the place for your personal agenda. We're here to work, not to entertain your attempts at charm.", emphasis on the word attempt. 
Amir chuckled nervously, realizing he had crossed a line. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble, Harvey. Just thought we could all use a break."
Harvey's stare could freeze time itself. "Save your charm for the courtroom, Amir. Now get lost before I decide to make this a legal matter."
Amir hastily retreated, leaving the cubicle, heading upstairs to interview Mike. 
As soon as he was out of earshot, Harvey's gaze softened ever so slightly as he turned to you. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, grateful for Harvey's intervention. "Thanks, Harvey. I didn't know how to get rid of him.” You left a pause before continuing, “Though he was cute”, it was your attempt to lightened the mood
But it seemed that you failed as you could have sworn that Harvey’s eyes darkened. 
“Don't tell me he is your type?” Harvey glares, trying to play it off as a playful intrigue. Though behind those words were sharp undertones of jealousy. 
Was your type arrogant lawyers? Oh god, you thought to yourself. 
“I mean if we are being honest”, you were already regretting the words coming of of your mouth, “I wouldn’t mind drinks with him, if you know he wasn't-”
“A dirty slimeball”, Harvey interrupted.
“I was going to say married but hey your  words not mine”, You shrugged as you smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. 
Like a switch any sign of a normal human being verison of Harvey goes back to a cold exterior Harvey ", Get back to work. We have a case to win."
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the silence. Louis Litt barged into the bullpen, a triumphant expression on his face. "I got it, I got it!" he declared, his voice echoing through the walls.
Harvey shot him a stern look. "What do you mean, Louis?"
Louis beamed, brimming with excitement. "I met with Amir’s brother in law and we have a plan"
"Louis, I don't like that look on your face. Well, actually, I don't like your face, period," Harvey retorted, his patience wearing thin but shot you a mischievous  look as you let out a small laugh. 
Just as Louis was about to unveil his plan, you received a text from Rachel, asking for assistance upstairs. Seizing the opportunity to excuse yourself , you made a quick exit, leaving Harvey to deal with Louis's eager revelation.
As you walked away, you overheard Louis saying, "Can I just tell you my plan?"
You missed Harvey's response that carried a tone of indifference, "Louis, I am a lawyer, not your babysitter. You don't need to run your ideas by me. Just do whatever it takes to win."
"Whatever it takes," Louis echoed, his enthusiasm undeterred as he practically skipped out of the room, eager to set his plan in motion. 
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The next day, as you were on your way to the copy room, Louis Litt beckoned you into his office. The air in the room felt different, an unusual tension hanging in the air. Louis, with a somewhat secretive smile, asked for your help with a deposition. He believed you were the perfect candidate to handle the client interview. He said he will be there to supervise it all. 
Despite the lingering suspicion about Louis's true intentions, you were eager to prove your skills and showcase your capabilities. With determination in your eyes, you took the file full of questions that Louis prepped for you into the conference room, ready to face the challenge. As you were coming round the conference room, Louis excused himself to the bathroom saying he was going to be right back and to start without him.
As you entered the room and set up the camera, you were met with the unexpected sight of Amir Jackson—the person you would be interviewing. Suppressing the internal alarm bells, you maintained a professional demeanor and focused on the task at hand.
"Good morning, Mr. Jackson. My name is Y/N, and I'll be conducting the deposition today. Please make yourself comfortable," you greeted, doing your best to project confidence.
Amir acknowledged you with a nod, “Oh trust me. I remember you.  I can't forget a face like that sweetheart”.
 You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this deposition than met the eye. As you pressed record on the camera, a pit forming in your stomach as you felt that you were part of a bigger scheme that Louis had formed. But you continued on. 
The questions came to an end and Louis was nowhere in sight. You think you did a good job but you really hoped you would have some help guiding you. You were reaching over to turn off the camera when Amir made his way around the table, invading your personal space as he placed his hand on your thigh.  You felt disgusting, but you gritted your teeth and tried to remove his hand. His grip just got tighter. 
“Mister Jackson, you are married and I am not interested so please let go”, you remained calm. 
"This isn't the first time I've given in to another woman's temptation," Amir whispered, his hand slowly making its way up higher. . The situation escalated, and you attempted to stand up, desperate to distance yourself from his unwarranted advances.
Just as the discomfort reached its peak, Louis Litt stepped into the room, 
 "We got you now, Amir," Louis declared, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
Louis revealed  that the entire encounter had been captured on camera, since the little red button was still going and Louis left his dictaphone as well. There was enough proof of the man Amir really was
The revelation startled Amir, who looked like he was ready to erupt in anger at being caught.
But a last Amir stammered trying to get his words together. 
“I think you should make some calls”, Louis said, his smile not faltering. 
Amir, now furious, stormed off, leaving you alone in the aftermath of the orchestrated confrontation. 
Anger boiled within you. You were mad at Amir, you wished you had the strength to have slapped him or yelled at him but you froze, your mind was whirling running 100 mph before you can truly comprehend what was going on. Now that it was over you were a teapot full of steam. Ready to blow. The more you thought about it, the more your frustration became directed at  Louis. 
His dramatic reveal. His smirk. This was the plan all along and you were just his puppet. He knew this was going to happen, he wanted this to happen. 
"Why the hell did you put me in that situation?" you snapped, the intensity of your emotions evident.
Louis, unfazed, responded, "It was Harvey's idea. We had to win the case, and trust me this”, he gestured to you and the empty door, “ sealed the deal”
Your anger shifted, now directed at Harvey Specter, the architect of this manipulative plan. The lines between professional strategy and personal boundaries blurred, they have been blurring. But this, this felt like the lines were being drawn all over again, You took a deep breathe as you were left grappling with the aftermath of an uncomfortable encounter.
You stormed  out of the conference room.You were shaken and in desperate need of someone to confide in. As you walked down the hallway your bubbling emotions made every step a struggle. In your mind, the need to talk this out with Rachel outweighed any confrontation you might have had with Harvey.
Focused on reaching Rachel's office, you were determined to leave the unsettling incident behind. However, Mike Ross, perceptive as ever, intercepted your path, concern shown across his face.
"Hey, are you okay? What happened back there?" Mike inquired, his voice laced with genuine worry.
The overwhelming emotions made it difficult for you to articulate your feelings. When Mike reached out to grab your hand, hoping to offer some comfort, a reflexive flinch escaped you. The subtle gesture spoke volumes about the impact of the encounter.
"Don't ask like you don't know," you managed to utter, your tone heavy with frustration and disappointment.
Mike was left dumbfounded, his attempts to provide support met with an unexpected defensive response. As you stopped in your tracks, you turned to face him, meeting the bewilderment in his eyes.
"I was Louis’s bait but if this was Harvey's idea, lord knows you were right there beside him. Batman and freaking Robin," you added, the accusation hanging in the air.
Mike's expression shifted to curiosity as he raced down the hall to Harvey’s office, needing an explanation. What the hell did you do now Harvey, Mike thought to himself. 
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You sought refuge in Rachel's office. Rachel offered a comforting presence. You recounted the events, finding solace in Rachel's understanding.
"I can't believe he used you like that. I'm so angry on your behalf," Rachel said, her support unwavering.
As Rachel provided a comforting presence for you, on the other side of the office, Mike Ross stormed into Harvey's office, his frustration evident. Ready to give Harvey a piece of his mind for giving Louis the idea to use you as bait, Mike's accusatory words were poised on the tip of his tongue.
But Harvey, surprised by the accusation, defended himself. "What are you talking about, Mike? I didn't allow Louis to do anything."
Before Mike could continue, Harvey's tone softened. "How is she, Mike? Is she okay?"
Mike hesitated, admitting, "She's shaken up, Harvey."
Without sparing another second, Harvey stood up, determination etched on his face. "I need to find her."
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The atmosphere in Rachel's office was heavy as you sat there, still visibly shaken from the encounter with Amir Jackson. You found comfort in spinning your bracelet around your wrist.
Rachel, ever the empathetic friend, suggested a visit to the bakery you both loved, a subtle attempt to bring a touch of sweetness to the somber moment. As she left to fetch the cookies, you stayed seated at her desk chair, staring out of the window. 
Harvey stepped in to check on you. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken tension as you looked up, frustration written  across your face. You turned back to the window refusing to look at him. 
You couldn't hold back the surge of emotions that spilled out. "Fuck you"
You were always so poised, always so put together, Harvey couldnt and wouldnt lie that hearing your curse did something to him. But he scratched that out of his mind, returning to the matter at hand. 
Still taken aback by the force of your words,  he raised his hands defensively. "I had nothing to do with what Louis did. I wouldn't put you in that position."
But you weren't convinced. "Your motto is 'do whatever it takes to win,' right? I was just a pawn in your grand scheme of things. Last week, after the panic attack, I thought we were okay. I thought we were on good terms, but now I don't know what to believe."
Harvey's expression hardened as he tried to find the right words to reassure you. "You weren't a pawn, Y/N. I didn't know about Louis's plan, and I would never intentionally put you in a situation like that."
You scoffed, frustration and hurt evident in your voice. "Your actions speak louder than words, Harvey. I'm tired of being caught in the crossfire of your 'win at all costs' mentality.” 
Harvey, his usual composed demeanor faltering, tried to find the right words to reassure you. The weight of your accusations, was challenging the fragile trust that had started to rebuild between both of you. 
You continued to stare out of the window, refusing to meet Harvey's gaze. He could feel the tension escalating, and he knew he had to address the storm of emotions swirling within you.
"Look at me," Harvey said firmly, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.
You clenched your jaw, still refusing to comply. Unfazed, Harvey moved closer and he bent down  a little so he would be eye level with you and with a gentle touch, guided your head to face him. His touch ignited the fuel of your emotions, whether it be rage or something else entirely. There was a fire burning within you. 
"I don't like to repeat myself," Harvey stated, his eyes locking onto yours.
You met his gaze, still angry, a tempest of emotions brewing within you. He could see the fire in your eyes and sensed the need for an outlet. "Yell at me," he urged, guiding you to stand up.
You were now facing Harvey, an arm's length between both of you. You took this oppurtunity, you took a deep breath as you let it all out. 
"You are insufferably arrogant and stubborn. You're like a shark in a corporate sea, ruthless and cold-hearted. You wield your charisma like a weapon, and everyone else is just a pawn in your game. You  bend the rules until they are ALMOST at a breaking point", you go off on a mini rant. 
Harvey, with a measured tone, responded, "I don't disagree. The fact that I haven't interrupted you should tell you I take pride in who I am. But one thing you didn’t say and one thing I would never do is hurt the people I care about. Maybe I would occasionally push Mike in front of a slow-moving car, but that's as far as I'd go." 
You stifle a small laugh, trying not to give Harvey any satisfaction. But you nodded at him showing that you believed him.
His hand rested on your shoulder as his eyes looked at you with concern. "How are you?" he emphasized.
You shrugged, voicing your discomfort. "I feel kinda disgusting right now."
Harvey's jaw tightened as anger flared in his eyes. "I'm gonna kill Louis," he declared, ready to retaliate.
As he turned to leave you grabbed his arm. "Don't hurt him," you pleaded, your voice holding a mix of anger and compassion. Despite the hurt you felt, you couldn't bear the thought of Louis facing physical harm.
Harvey paused, looking down at your hand on his arm. "I can't promise that I won't give him a piece of my mind, but I won't hurt him physically."
You nodded, acknowledging the compromise.
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The celebratory feeling filled the air in Jessica's office as Harvey stormed in, anger etched across his face. Louis and Jessica stood there, clinking glasses in celebration of what they believed was a triumph in the Amir Jackson case.
"Join us, Harvey! Louis found a way for us to win this case. It's finally over" Jessica exclaimed, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within Harvey.
Harvey's eyes narrowed as he observed Louis making himself small under the intensity of his gaze. Unable to contain his fury any longer, Harvey erupted, "Louis, you pretentious fucker! How dare you do that to her?"
Jessica, puzzled, looked between Harvey and Louis. "Harvey, what happened? Why are you so angry?"
Ignoring Jessica's inquiry, Harvey continued his tirade, directing his fury solely at Louis. "You used Y/N. You put her in a bad situation with Amir. That's a new low, even for you."
Jessica's confusion shifted to anger as she slammed her glass down. "What?"
Louis, feeling the heat of Harvey's wrath, defended himself, "You said to do whatever it takes to win."
" One, you know how I feel about cheating. And two, you know what yeah this is my fault. For half a second there, I thought you would be a lawyer, not try to pimp out my associate," Harvey placing particular emphasis on the word "my."
“Here's the deal," Louis began to explain his plan. "Amir's brother-in-law allowed him to join his firm under one condition: he behaves and doesn't cheat on his sister. Now, Amir signed his contract promising to behave because Amir’s brother in law has a list of evidence that could easily get him disbarred, but his brother-in-law promised not to expose him as long as he kept his promise."
Louis sighed as he continued, "Y/n was the bait, Harvey. She is one of the more attractive associates that Amir couldn't resist. So I  let the pawns fall where they should fall and we got it all on camera. Amir's brother in law is going to the association to get him disbarred as we speak. "
Jessica chimed in, "Louis, why couldn’t you let it so Y/N in on the plan.”
Louis nodded, ‘’ I didn't think it would be a big deal”
The room collectively groaned. 
"The only reason you don't have a broken nose right now is because she asked me not to hurt you...physically," Harvey declared, his rage simmering beneath the surface.
Jessica, ever the professional, butted in, “Harvey the case with Amir is over now, let me handle Louis” giving Louis a dirty glare before opening the door to her office moving Harvey out the door, “Tell everyone to go home for the night”. 
Harvey followed suit, leaving Louis to face the wrath of Jessica. As he closed the door he could hear Jesscia yell, “What were you thinking”
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Harvey's footsteps echoed through the hallway as he made his way to Rachel's office, seeking you out. Upon entering, he found you surrounded by Mike and Rachel, laughing at something as Mike shoved his face with cookies. The look on your face seemed lighter, you appeared more at ease.
Harvey addressed everyone in the room, "Alright, pack it up. Time to go home."
As he spoke, ​​his eyes lingered on you, and he added pointedly, "Especially you. Y/N.  No arguments this time, I am taking you home."
Your colleagues exchanged knowing glances, and Rachel and Mike gathered their things to leave. Harvey's directive made it clear that there was no room for negotiation this time; he was taking you home.
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The plush interior of Harvey's car surrounded you, and you couldn't help but feel a bit out of place in the luxurious vehicle. Harvey, however, seemed at ease as he turned to you and casually asked, "Put your location in the GPS."
You entered your apartment complex as the destination. The ride continued in relative quiet,
You were now three blocks away from your apartment complex, when Harvey abruptly took a sharp left. Confused, you turned to him with a puzzled expression, questioning his unexpected turn.
"Harvey, where the hell are you going?" you asked.
He glanced at you, a twinkle  in his eyes, and replied, "We both deserve to have some fun tonight."
You saw him pulling up to a bar, one that seemed too classy for you. You were too undressed for this. The doubt clouded your mind. 
Your eyebrows furrowed, and you couldn't help but ask, "A bar, Harvey, really?"
He looked over at you, the corner of his lips quirked up. "What do you say?" He was parked but hadn't turned off the engine, giving you an out.
You looked over at him and he had that stupid, handsome smug smirk on his.
Not wanting the "what ifs" to take over, you met his gaze and said, "I'm in."
409 notes · View notes
veilkeeper · 10 months
Text
thoughts on the astarion-halsin polymance
i know some people dont like the halsin polymance specifically if the PC's other partner is astarion but. i want to talk about it. because i think maybe a lot of people have come to conclusions without seeing the scenes in question for themselves. so let me give a different perspective.
disclaimers: *i know a lot of people ship/hc this polymance as a triad, but for the purposes of this post i'm talking specifically about the "hinge" dynamic we see in-game thx. **also i got the halsin romance trigger before completing astarion's personal quest, so this post is talking about that perspective, and all quotes are from those conversations. ***i respect people who dont play this route. you're allowed to play this game however you want. the purpose of this post is to discuss the canon, in-game text and how it supports the astarion-halsin polymance as a viable and healthy path for these relationships, with nuance and respect to astarion's personal issues. this is not meant to convert anyone, but it is meant to clarify and provide additional context that i feel is largely missing from a lot of discussions about how the polymance is "bad", unilaterally.
let's start with halsin, because i think he's the easier perspective to tease out here, given that he really leaves nothing to the imagination. he's incredibly earnest and open, and will happily describe his perspective on non-monogamy right out the gate. as he says...
The wolf mates for life, but the bear roams free and partners as its instinct dictates. I need to stay true to my nature, and you to yours.
now, to get ahead of potential backlash here... if you haven't spent a lot of time with halsin, particularly if you've never flirted with him, that line may imply that he's a "player". he is not. given the context of the PCs interactions with him up to this point (and how he treats the relationship after, if you confirm the romance), halsin is deeply devoted, and has really strong feelings for the PC. it's really sweet, i highly recommend romancing him, either as a polymance or solo.
what he's describing here is a perspective of cultural non-monogamy. that he believes his feelings are not diminished by having multiple relationships at the same time, and he expects that if the PC agrees to a relationship with him that they will respect his freedom to pursue others when/if such feelings arise, just as he will respect the PC's freedom to continue and/or pursue other relationships as well. it's a really succinct and frankly unexpectedly respectful negotiation of the terms of a polyam relationship.
and that respect is evident from the get go. if you've never seen this conversation, it basically opens with him saying "hey, i have these feelings about you, i was wondering if you maybe felt the same," and if the PC says that they do, he immediately acknowledges the existing relationship and tells the PC that they can't move forward without consent. and you cant; speaking to halsin again just has him ask the PC if they've spoken to their other partner yet. at every turn, halsin is incredibly respectful of the PCs other partner, he never diminishes that relationship, nor does he expect the PC to ever place him above that relationship. he even says:
Indeed, I am but one of your lovers. You and I should seek happiness, wherever it lies. You are all I want, but I will not hoard you to myself.
he makes it very clear from the get-go that he has no designs on the PC's other relationship and that he is more than happy to take whatever they want to give him.
which leads me to my overarching point: astarion is consenting to this dynamic specifically because the other person in question is halsin.
and we know this for a few reasons. first, because.... mechanically in game, he's the only person you can romance at the same time as astarion. while astarion mentions at various points that he is fine with "arrangements", generally speaking, every other potential romance partner results in a "you have to choose one of us" conversation. the reason astarion gives for why the PC has to choose varies, i believe, but since i don't have the dialogue on hand (i have been faithful as hell in my playthrough) i won't speculate about those conversations.
however, we also know that astarion is consenting to an arrangement with halsin specifically because of this line:
The druid is unique. He has a lot of experience with this type of arrangement. Thus, I'm sure it would be quite a harmless affair.
which is interesting, isn't it? hold onto this one, we'll circle back to it later. and then of course, the other line we need to discuss from astarion here is the famously controversial...
It's not because… you know… we haven't… in a while?
so this is where i get into the potentially controversial take that i have, because it's more nuanced than arguments i've seen on either side of the pro-/anti- polymance debate. but basically i think that astarion is... insecure. shocker, i know. but unlike some takes i've seen, i dont think this means he can't consent to a polyam relationship, i think it means that he has certain Conditions related to it, that he has decided have been met. and i think those conditions are as follows:
the PC's interest in halsin is not borne out of any deficiency of astarion's.
this is why he asks the famous question. he's insecure, and making sure that the PC's interest in halsin is not because astarion is failing to "satisfy" them, that it's not because he isn't enough. astarion has a lot of self-worth issues that he tries really hard to hide, and i think it would be easy for him to think that the PC starting another relationship could be a result of him being... insufficient.
for people who have never been in a polyam relationship, this is a thing. this is an important thing, and making sure all of your partners feel that they're valued and "enough" is an important part of navigating these relationships. astarion does the right thing here, by expressing his insecurity and asking for reassurance. and when the PC gives it to him, the relief is evident and he gives consent to the dynamic immediately. not because he's been coerced, but because he's been reassured.
PC: Gods, I don't want you to think that for a moment. Astarion: I know I was being foolish. But thank you for saying it.
the second condition is:
that he is still a priority
this is pretty self explanatory but since it's sort of the clincher for my whole argument here, i do have to say the quiet part out loud. i dont think what astarion wants or needs is to be the PC's only partner. he talks about "arrangements" on multiple occasions, i dont think he has a problem with sharing. what i do think he wants is to be the PC's primary partner. what he's consenting to, in my view, is hierarchical polyamory, to use the proper term. as in, the PC can fool around with whoever they want, even have feelings for other people, so long as they always come back to astarion. he needs to feel like he is secure and valued above others as he values them above others. he needs to feel like the PC isn't going anywhere.
and that's why he consents to an arrangement with halsin, but no one else. because all of the other romance options, the origin companions, would want to be equal with astarion, they would want non-hierarchical polyamory. halsin, on the other hand, is all about taking what can be given and having a more fluid understanding of relationships. he doesn't care if he's #1, he cares that the PC cares about him, right now. no formal definitions or obligations required.
that's what astarion means when he says "the druid is unique." that's what he means when he says "he has a lot of experience with this type of arrangement." that's what he means when he says it will be a "harmless affair." because he knows halsin is never going to try to take the PC away from him. he knows halsin isn't going to be a threat to him and his status with his partner. and that's why he's comfortable saying yes, even though he says no to every other possible arrangement.
it's not because he was coerced. it's not because he doesn't know how to say no. it's because he feels safe. and that's what we want.
some additional notes while i'm here...
on jealousy: a lot of people hc astarion as the jealous type, as perhaps a little possessive, and i am also one of those people. it makes sense; he's a guy who hasn't had anything in 200 years, and the PC is the first person he's cared about like this. i can definitely see him being a little possessive and prone to jealousy. but stepping outside of the realm of fiction, jealous/possessive feelings are often the result of insecurity and in real relationships should absolutely not be used as a tool to control the behaviour of another partner. and, crucially, jealous/possessive feelings are a thing to be talked about and worked through, not tip-toed around. the presence of those feelings does not automatically mean that a polyamorous relationship is impossible, it just means there's another thing to talk about, and by astarion consenting to the PC having another relationship, he's pretty clearly saying he's willing to talk through those feelings and work on them.
on the ability to consent: i know that astarion doesn't talk about his feelings enough. but i truly dont think that this is a case of astarion saying yes when he means no. astarion can say no, even in high pressure situations he wasn't expecting. he says no to the astral-touched tadpole (rather firmly, i might add), he says no to sleeping with the drow twins, etc. the scene that most people use as proof that astarion cannot consent happens in a much different emotional context, with a lot of direct coercion, and is followed by astarion taking back personal control and dumping the PC. that is not what happens in this scene, when astarion is consenting to a polyamorous relationship. there is no coercion (in fact the PC can explicitly say "i wouldn't even consider it if it bothered you", and astarion expected the conversation, so he would have been able to prepare his thoughts and feelings ahead of time. at no point does he say no or even imply he's not okay with an arrangement with halsin.
on timing: ive seen some people say that they would be more okay with the astarion-halsin polymance if all of this was not be happening right now. i agree with that. ideally, astarion would have more time to adjust to his relationship before it was opened up at all. but because this is a video game, everything is happening during the events of the game. and because this is a video game, the events of the game are high pressure and wild and everything is happening all at once. i don't blame people who elongate the timeline in fan content, or who turn down halsin because they think its "too soon." thats actually very explicitly something halsin says when he initially propositions the player - that he hopes it isn't "too soon." however, astarion still consents (see point above), and relationships barely ever have good timing. one could argue that even the solomance with astarion does not have good timing, when considering astarion's trauma and recovery. so. we make do. and i think it would be... a disservice? to what is (in my opinion) really good polyam writing to just say "actually it's all terrible and icky because there's a lot going on right now" and dismiss it out of hand.
.......................and i think that's everything. thank you for joining me on this very long (oops) deep dive into this. a double thank you for reading all the way through if you don't like the astarion-halsin polymance. i hope i gave you a different perspective, even if i didn't change your mind. love ya <3
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genshin-impacted · 1 year
Text
so close (yet so far)
[Alhaitham x Reader]
You ask Alhaitham to be friends with benefits with you. (The both of you overestimate your ability to not get your feelings involved.)
word count: 11k* (one-shot)
notes: heavily nsfw**, female reader; "you", inexperienced!reader, friends to fwb to lovers, unrequited to mutual pining, modern au (reader and alhaitham went to hs together), some profanity, brief body insecurity on reader's side
*split into three main parts: one part is Alhaitham's POV btw a speed demon possessed me to write this much (im kidding; my friend put brain worms in me)
**oral sex, brief descriptions of face fucking, 69, car sex, dirty talk, face sitting, thigh fucking
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Dating apps vary in tone and quality, you find out firsthand. Certain ones call for one-night stands and hook ups and others are prone to less of them (but they will always be there). You don't feel like you can make genuine relationships with people without meeting them first, but you figure you should give it a chance at least before giving up.
You are close to doing so when you show up for a date, and he cancels last minute.
"Ugh, man..." You sigh, putting your phone away after seeing the apologetic text. You won't blame your date: it may as well be a real emergency, but if not, he is not beholden to you to show up, though it would have been nice on his end to let you know earlier.
Still, you are here, and you are hungry, so you step into the cafe in hopes of grabbing fresh pastries when a familiar face catches your eye. You almost don't believe it, considering how many years have passed since you've last seen him. But there is no mistaking the silvery hair and the nose still buried in a book; even the green headphones remain the same, a detail that makes you laugh a little when you approach him and hope he isn't too upset at the sudden reunion.
"Alhaitham," you say cheerily, waving at him in case his noise-canceling is on. "It's been a while!"
Alhaitham takes his eyes off his book to look at you, hands raised to take off his headphones. You grin when it seems that he is just as surprised to see you as you are. "It has," he agrees. "More than a few years." He takes a look at you. "You haven't changed a bit."
"How rude!" You say teasingly, "I've changed a little bit in the past few years. Maybe not in appearance, but still. Mind if I sit?"
Alhaitham moves over when you take a chair over to sit in front of him, and it feels like the two of you never left high school-- if not for the stark fact that Alhaitham has changed physically since then. His jaw is more defined, shoulders broader, probably even taller than he was back then. He's handsome, you think, though then again, he always has been.
Wistfully, you think about the years you've lost connection with him and wonder what he has been up to. You've always enjoyed his company, much to some of your other friends' chagrin, and that sentiment has not changed now when the two of you converse easily.
"So," Alhaitham says, "were you on a date with someone?"
You don't even bother asking how he knew, only sighing and waving a hand. "I was going to be. He canceled last minute so I was going to grab something and go." Alhaitham hums noncommittally, and you snort in laughter, reminded of his apathy towards relationships then and, you guess, now.
You remember the times Alhaitham turned down people in high school at a ridiculous rate. "Another one?" You remember someone saying jokingly, seeing Alhaitham simply toss a letter slipped into his locker.
"You won't respond at least?" You asked, sympathetic over the courage it took to confess.
"I don't know them," you recall him saying. "Why should I consider being in a relationship with them when we haven't even spoken to gauge our compatibility?"
Alhaitham ended up not accepting anyone's confessions. You don't remember him dating in high school or during university either in the times you've messaged him just to catch up. Not that you have a stellar record either, having dated only one person your whole life without it going very far. You can't say you haven't tried though.
"So you're not dating anyone?" You ask, taking a sip of your drink.
Alhaitham looks at you briefly; you can never tell what he's thinking. He eventually looks away and says, "No. I'm not interested in dating."
"At all?" You ask again, voice high in genuine disbelief. 'Still?' is the unspoken question. (What a shame, you can't help but think.) When Alhaitham gives a nonchalant shrug, you let yourself sit back, astonished. You think about your (lack of) experience, the fatigue from dating apps, and then look at Alhaitham.
You've always found him attractive; you can't deny this. You trust him as a friend and as a confidant, because in his own words-- what is the use of telling secrets? Alhaitham is as intelligent and rational as ever, something you have always admired in him, which is why you trust him with this question.
"Would you be down for a friends with benefits relationship then?"
Alhaitham raises his brow in question and pauses in thought before responding. "...In general?" He asks, "Or with you?"
You love the way Alhaitham needs no explanation.
"Both," you reply. "Serious inquiry."
Worst case scenario Alhaitham rejects the offer and the two of you move on from this conversation (hopefully). Best case scenario is him saying yes. Last thing you expect is to have Alhaitham look at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him: unadulterated shock. You laugh at his reaction despite the tension that could have been held between the two of you, and you start to wave off the entire ordeal when Alhaitham tells you "sure."
.
It's only Alhaitham, but you show up at his apartment with a nervous flutter in your heart. He opens the door soon after you knock, donned in a regular shirt and sweatpants. You feel your shoulders relax at the casualness of it all and thank him for his hospitality as you enter his home. It does not take much to strike a normal conversation with him, words between the two of you flowing like usual. You are given a tour of the apartment per request, briefly admiring the tiles of the bathroom floor before ending the route in his room. It is minimalistic aside from the usual amenities, and it feels so much like Alhaitham that you smile as he types something on his laptop before turning back to you.
"Is my room that amusing to you?" Alhaitham scoffs, closing his laptop.
"Yeah, it kind of is," you agree easily. "It's better than a man cave, I'll give you that. But the walls are as empty as the day you got this place probably."
"I'll be sure to let you know when inspiration hits for me to decorate," he says sardonically, making you giggle to yourself. "Did you want music?"
The sudden change in topic makes you tilt your head in confusion. "Music?" You echo. "Music for what?"
Without skipping a beat, a song starts playing on low volume, bass steady and clear in his speakers. Alhaitham stands tall then, his headphones off, you note vaguely. He seems a lot taller than you remember, but perhaps it is because he is usually conscious of the difference in height to stand at a distance, so you don't have to crane your neck. This time, when Alhaitham stands right in front of you, close enough to bump chests, you look up and realize it is the first time you've really looked into Alhaitham's eyes.
There are more colors than you thought.
You instinctively want to take a step back, but his hand holding your arm-- firmly, just enough to stop you, but not strong enough to keep you there if you wanted to leave-- keeps you underneath his gaze. You are normally so good at defusing the tension with a few well-placed words of humor, but you aren't quite sure this is a tension that you want to cut through.
Just like that, your heart is at your throat. Alhaitham truly is very handsome, you think, eyes looking at his long lashes, the curve of his nose, and his lips. You can't help but jump when Alhaitham leans down, face closest to yours as it has ever been. You feel ridiculous, being strung taut as a caught fishing line just from being close to Alhaitham. Your cheeks prickle with the speed in which it warms, and just when you begin to wonder what Alhaitham could possibly be waiting for before he kisses you, his lips are on yours.
Your eyes close almost immediately, arms reaching up to hold onto him and finding purchase around his neck as he pulls you close until the two of you are flushed against each other. How long has it been since you've been kissed, let alone been kissed like this? Lips separating from yours only enough to find new ways to kiss you again. You gasp when Alhaitham gently bites and pulls at your lower lips. Feeling emboldened by your reception, Alhaitham swoops in and meets his tongue with yours, and you melt in his embrace.
You are surprised to see that you could probably go on kissing Alhaitham forever if that was all you could do. You only vaguely realize how efficiently you've been breathing through your nose through it all when you separate from him, dazed, and hear him mutter "fuck" under his breath.
A rush of adrenaline. You were already aware that Alhaitham is a willing participant in this newly established situationship, but to hear him being as affected as you do numbers to your rapidly increasing arousal. It's only fun when the both of you are enjoying it, after all.
"Not bad from someone who hasn't smooched anyone in years, huh?" You begin to tease, rightfully earning yourself a dirty look from Alhaitham. His lips are still wet, you think, and heat curls up from your lower abdomen up. The room suddenly feels hot.
"Are we trying to rate every encounter now?" Alhaitham remarks dryly, only to make you laugh at the thought of it.
"Not if it's not at least a 7/10," you say breathlessly. You shake in laughter again when you see him roll his eyes before holding onto his hand and tugging him to the couch. "Here, sit. My neck is starting to get tired. Being shorter is a struggle, you know."
Alhaitham sighs but sits obediently where you take him. "What do you-" He snaps his mouth shut when you swing your legs over his lap and sit yourself on top of him. You quirk a smile at the rare sight of Alhaitham being stunned once again and wonder how easily it seems to have gotten to make him react like that.
His hand easily finds its place at your waist as you curl your hands into the hair at the nape. "Trying to make myself comfortable," you say slyly. "This is much better."
You close the distance and kiss him again. You're a quick learner, so you do what has been done to you: nipping at his lips, tugging and pulling, and licking into his mouth until it makes him as breathless as you are. Is this what it's like to have chemistry? You wonder, feeling Alhaitham's hands dip underneath your top to slide his hand across the expanse of your naked skin. You want him to touch you more.
Alhaitham must have the same ideas because he murmurs at you to take it off, and you raise your arms easily to let him do exactly that. His fingers waste no time in pressing into the softness of your breast, over the white cloth of your bra. He is quick to grow tired of the thin barrier though, pulling it down just so your breasts can pop out into full view. Your cheeks prick in embarrassment at how exposed you feel-- this is the first man to see you like this, after all-- and having Alhaitham look at you with intense focus does not help with it.
Alhaitham's hands are warm when they cup your breasts, gently squeezing them until your nipples perk against his long fingers. You gasp in pleasure when he pinches them and tugs. Your arms reach out and hold onto his shoulders for support. As though on cue, Alhaitham swoops down to capture one of your nubs in his mouth while his hand plays idly with the other. He swirls it with his tongue, leaving a trail of spit when he detaches himself from it to move onto the other one. You hum as your hands card through his hair.
Alhaitham's free hand unhooks your bra, leaving it to hang down your shoulders. You immediately tug it completely off, casting it carelessly elsewhere. He is quick to be on you again, encouraging you to wrap your arms around him as he sucks onto your tits. It feels rather uneven, the way you're half-dressed but he's still fully clothed. You can feel the way his muscles contract underneath your hands, fingers tracing along the exposed skin of his neck that is far from being enough for you.
Just as you decide to ask Alhaitham to return the favor and take his clothes off, your hands spasms in his hair when Alhaitham takes a nipple between his teeth and tugs, hard.
Oh fuck, you think, letting out a long, shaky breath just before Alhaitham does it again, his hands on your back as it arches at his touch. "Fuck," you say aloud this time, and you can feel the way Alhaitham's lips curve up in amusement, the bastard. "Hey, you take your clothes off too," you tell him, tugging up the hem of his shirt.
Alhaitham looks at you steadily. "Why?"
You stare back at him and sputter. "What do you mean 'why?'" You-" You scowl, feeling your cheeks warm as Alhaitham continues to look at you with a smirk. "You just want me to say it, don't you?"
"I'm not a mind reader," he says, lips curving up. "How would I know what you want if you don't tell me?"
"I want to see you," you say, cheeks prickling with an embarrassment that you push through. "I want to touch you too, you know." When Alhaitham smirks at you before sitting up from the couch to take his shirt off, you huff. "Ugh, this is why everyone keeps giving you side eyes," you say, your hands sliding over his open chest with a mild sense of reverence despite your words. You knew Alhaitham was toned to hell, and this is the first time you've been granted the chance to view it in all its glory, your hands brushing over his built abdomen, thumb brushing over his nipples.
Alhaitham jumps slightly when you do so, and you giggle, ignoring the narrowed look you get from him and the way he grips onto your hips just the slightest. You shift in your seat, only to feel Alhaitham's hold you still, face flushed despite the impartial expression on his face. "What, what's up-" You feel it then, the hardness underneath your thighs, and you know Alhaitham sees the realization dawn on you because his blush travels down his neck.
He's embarrassed, you think gleefully. After initiating the hottest make out session you've ever had and easily pulling taut your strings, Alhaitham is embarrassed that he's hard? If anything, he should be-- better be! And you're a little flattered, you tell him just as much teasingly, and you can't help but hug him when he scowls at you.
Ah, you feel your heart flutter, knowing the effect you have on the immovable Alhaitham. But he is far from it now, chest heaving under your palm, cock hard as you press down onto it despite his modest resistance. You won't say it to him out loud, knowing he wouldn't like it, but you think Alhaitham is adorable as he is now. (You imagine people would say you're the only one who would think that.)
You rock your hips, eyes not straying from Alhaitham's as he stubbornly meets your gaze. His thighs are tense underneath you as you line yourself up to press your pussy lips against his clothed cock. A skirt was a good choice, you think dreamily; it lets you grind on him with aching accuracy and lets Alhaitham slide his hands across your legs and reach behind to squeeze your ass. You hum again in appreciation, kissing Alhaitham again as he generously cups your behind, making you moan, which he easily swallows up.
"Take your pants off too," you say, sitting back onto his legs. Before he can ask, you press your palm down on his bulge and quip a smile at him. "I want to try sucking you off."
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You tie your hair up before kneeling down between Alhaitham's knees. His cock sits erect on his stomach, head flush with arousal. It should feel intimidating the way Alhaitham watches you, but you know Alhaitham, and you figure if there is anyone that you can be comfortable doing this with, it would be him.
"Tell me what to do," you say, hands softly trailing up and down his thighs. "I've never done this before."
"You've watched porn, haven't you?" Alhaitham replies dryly, making you roll your eyes good naturedly.
"It's not the same thing as doing, and you know it." You look over at the nearby table he has kindly set up for you in advance and take the bottle of lotion to pour some onto your hand. Alhaitham jolts slightly at the coldness of the lotion, hissing in a breath, though with the way you are steadily pumping his cock, you aren't quite certain the sound wasn't at least partially from pleasure. "Alhaitham," you begin, a whining lilt to your voice. "Come on. Teach me?"
"Alright, alright, fine," Alhaitham says, his hand covering his face. "Just- just stop for a second."
You let go of his cock, beaming up at him as he shifts so that he's sitting more comfortably. "Here," he says, almost boredly. He gestures for you to take him in hand again, and your heart skips when you feel his hand over yours, squeezing it as he guides it up and down again in a steady rhythm. "Tighten your grip like this. A little harder is fine. There are more nerve endings at the tip, but there's nothing wrong with covering the base as well." You can only nod in acknowledgement, a lump in the back of your throat as you emulate exactly what Alhaitham has shown you.
Is this how he normally gets himself off? The same strength, the same motion-- maybe a little extra attention at the tip where it is more sensitive? You feel your face warm and hope it does not show as you watch Alhaitham's face for approval or for any signs of pleasure.
Alhaitham has always been intense despite his neutral face. But you know him well enough to recognize the minute changes that occur. The tense jaw, partially open mouth, half-lidded gaze is enough to light a fire in your stomach. But you wonder how he would look if he were completely drowned in pleasure, if you could be the one that makes him look like that.
You speak before you can lose the courage to. "Can I use my mouth?" You say, "I want to use my mouth."
Alhaitham's cock twitches in your hand.
"Then put it in your mouth then," Alhaitham says, "and avoid teeth. It hurts."
Obediently, you nod and sit up on your knees, puppy licking the tip to test the waters before opening your mouth to put it in. You had thought this when your hand could not completely wrap around his cock, but Alhaitham is big, enough to make your jaw ache when you try to fit more of his member in. You make a sound of discontent when the cock head hits the back of your throat and you aren't even halfway down. You let your tongue rest on the bottom of his cock, saliva pooling underneath with a mouth so full.
It doesn't fit, you think somewhat dejectedly. You swallow around his cock, making a discontented noise when you feel Alhaitham's thigh clench as he bucks up into your mouth. "Sorry," he says, and you tell him an incomprehensible 'it's okay' around his cock. His thigh tenses up again.
You tentatively raise your head, lips wrapped around his member for a moment before pulling yourself off, ready to ask for guidance when Alhaitham offers it to you. "You can use your hand to cover the rest of it," he says. "A wringing motion like this. It'll feel better if you suck while you're doing it too. Use lotion or spit if it's too dry."
You nod and follow his words step by step, swallowing his cock again and hollowing your cheeks. The other hand pumps his cock as you slowly bob your head up and down. You lift yourself up with a breath and let saliva spill from your lips to ease the motion, your eyes glancing up to meet Alhaitham's eyes.
You don't think he has taken his eyes off of you for even a second.
It's a little addicting to know that his attention is all yours. What does he like best about this whole situation, you muse. The fact that he's your first? The eager way in which you are trying to please him? Or is it the look of you drooling over his cock, getting off just from sucking it?
You hum in pleasure around his cock and he throws his head back, hips jilting up only slightly.
You pop yourself off of him again, hand pumping the entire expanse of his cock as you tilt your head to lick at his balls. "Fuck," Alhaitham mutters, hands clenched into the couch. You watch as his eyes flutter open before looking at you again, chest rising and falling. Not one to give neither you nor him reprieve, you are sucking him off again, and then off, and then on. It's a little fun watching him writhe, and you slowly begin to realize the power you seem to have over him.
You are so grateful to Alhaitham for saying 'yes.' The feeling of being wanted, of being desired, of being empowered is intoxicating. Watching Alhaitham fall apart before your eyes because of you is even more so.
He says your name, strained, "I'm close."
Alhaitham lets out an involuntary groan when you pop off again. "Does cum taste bad?" You ask. "It's a lot neater if I swallow, unless you want it somewhere else?" The thought of Alhaitham finishing on your chest or face is somewhat appealing, though you worry about the mess.
It doesn't seem like Alhaitham particularly cares, because he grits out, "Your choice." He muffles a grunt of pleasure that you wish you could hear at full volume. "Just-"
The key to success is consistency, you think. You bob your head up and down in tandem with your hand, licking the head and swirling your tongue around his shaft until Alhaitham lets out a strained, "I'm coming-"
Despite the warning, the warmth that spurts in your mouth is still surprising. You slow your pace as Alhaitham cums, all pretty gasps and grunts that makes your head spin as you take all he is giving and swallowing. It's a lot more than you think too, your hand daintily at your mouth as you swallow as though it were the last bite of a meal. You look at Alhaitham, skin glistening with sweat, breathing hard after his climax, eyes slightly wide as he watches you lick your lips.
Before you can ask for it, Alhaitham shifts just enough to reach for a towel-- he really is prepared for everything-- for you to wipe your hand with. You hear him let out a long breath before you return the towel to him for his own uses. You stand up, wincing at the marks on your knees from kneeling for so long before grinning at him.
"So, what's the verdict?" You ask jokingly, making him scoff and roll his eyes as you had predicted.
"I'm not answering that," he says. He stands up and picks his sweatpants from the ground to make himself more modest. "You can extrapolate for that type of answer yourself."
You expected as much, but you still pout and sigh. You sit on the couch next to him. "Aw, boo, well I guess I'll just give myself an 8/10 then." You stop when you feel Alhaitham's gaze on you, calculating. "What, what is it? Am I lowballing it or what-"
"I think it's your turn," Alhaitham says simply.
"Oh, uh..." You honestly didn't come to his house expecting anything, so this comes as a surprise to you. That and a few certain parts of you makes that bit of insecurity flare up the moment Alhaitham mentions reciprocation. "It's fine," you say, "we don't have to-" You snap your mouth shut when Alhaitham parts your legs to put his knees between, his hand lifting your chin so he can kiss you. You vaguely think about the fact that he can probably taste himself on your tongue.
"I insist," Alhaitham murmurs against your lips.
"What do you suggest then?" You stammer, and Alhaitham pushes himself off just enough to look at you directly.
"We could try fingering. See if that's to your taste and then move on." He gauges you carefully. "We could stop if you truly wanted to, but don't make that decision on my behalf."
"Well, we could try," you say, lowering your gaze, feeling your heart pick up in anticipation.
"Alright," Alhaitham replies softly. "You can stop me at any time."
This is why you trust Alhaitham. This is why you asked Alhaitham to do this with you, to-- for a lack of better, less dramatic phrases-- be your first. It was made as a casual request but Alhaitham knew to take it seriously for you anyways. You aren't sure how much he knows how his words make you feel at ease.
The sense of ease is immediately replaced with nervous anticipation when Alhaitham parts your legs, pooling your skirt at your stomach, and slips his hand underneath your panties. You hear him let out a sharp breath, and before you can ask what's wrong, he says, almost in awe, "You're so wet."
You understand Alhaitham's feelings earlier now when you had felt his bulge; your arousal on full blast is nothing short of mortifying even though the situation calls for it. You hadn't even noticed, so focused on the task at hand, but when Alhaitham pulls back with glistening lines of slick between his fingers, you don't doubt his observation.
"W-Well, you know," you mumble, your hand grasping onto his supporting arm. Your eyes flutter when Alhaitham cups your sex, fingers sliding a line down the middle. Your hand spasms when his thumb hits your clit on the way down, and Alhaitham does not miss it. "Wait, Alhaitham-" You squeal when he presses onto your clit, swirling around it with persistent pressure that makes it hard to say anything coherent. You wouldn't have wanted to tell him to stop anyways, but you have a feeling he just wanted to tease you.
"Sensitive?" He says almost smugly.
"Not usually no," you choke out, breathing out a sigh of relief when Alhaitham lets off.
"Interesting," he says, and it's only now you realize how quiet Alhaitham was before when you were on your knees. Now with him at the upper hand, he can speak all he wants, and you're the one left catching your breath. It really is different when it's someone else doing it. "I'm putting one in to start, okay?"
You nod, but when you feel the first intrusion prod in, you reach out to seek out Alhaitham for support. "Relax," he tells you. "Your muscles are too tense for anything."
"Sorry," you say, taking a deep breath. He pulls you closer, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You hot breath hits his neck when you turn to him. "Make sure you really lube that up, Haitham." You breathe again when his finger enters, and when it curls up onto the spongey part of your cunt, you feel it. It's nothing of import yet, but Alhaitham seems patient enough to build up to it.
One finger barely fits, but even with time, the second finger enters too. "You're tight," Alhaitham grunts, and you feel yourself redden as your only response. "I think you're stretched out. Any pain?" When you shake your head on his shoulders, you feel his fingers slowly pump in and out of you.
It picks up in pace and intensity, and then when he curves up this time- oh, you aren't sure you've ever felt this sensation before. Alhaitham's fingers are so much longer than yours, so it makes sense he can reach the places you can't, knuckles deep in you. Your breathing quickens and with it, Alhaitham's speed, his fingers pounding at that same spot over and over. You're at a daze, not any closer to a climax but not bored without pleasure. You aren't sure how long Alhaitham goes at it until he slows down, and the fog clears up.
"You okay?"
You hum, turning your head to face Alhaitham when he peers over to you. "Yeah," you mumble, "I feel good, just can't come from this."
"Hm."
You miss Alhaitham's warmth when he pulls away, fingers grasping at him. The haze that you feel quickly blows away when Alhaitham gets on his knees and pries your legs apart. "Whoa, um-"
"Most cannot finish with vaginal stimulation alone," Alhaitham says factually. "Hence, I'll be focusing my efforts on other areas."
"Yeah, I get that," you say, blinking with embarrassment. "It's just, um..."
Without your understanding, Alhaitham gives you a deeply unimpressed look. "Hair is a natural phenomenon. It doesn't matter to me in the slightest."
You would find it hard to believe, an insecure part of you convinced that it must be polite niceties. But this is Alhaitham, and he is never one for false platitudes and social norms with strangers or friends or you. When he says he does not care, you believe him.
"If you're sure," you tell him, and you let out a small squeak when he tugs your panties down, not even bothering to take it off completely before you feel his fingers pry your leaking lips apart. A lick up your clit has your legs closing on his head, but Alhaitham's hands easily pry you apart and keep you that way, your pussy open to be eaten.
You want to look away when Alhaitham's meets your eyes, and then his lips press to your folds and he begins to gorge himself on you.
It's impossible to keep your eyes open then when you're too distracted by how Alhaitham's tongue swirls around your clit, the muscle pressing into the bud of nerves with a dogged persistence. Even the noises you have kept to a minimum spill from your lips involuntarily. You can only breathe in hiccups, Alhaitham relentless in his pursuit of your climax as he sucks on your clit and begins to press his fingers against the zone of pleasure inside you as well.
'It feels good' sounds like an understatement at this point. You climb the precipice at an alarming speed, and you cannot help but grasp onto the hand keeping your thighs apart to ground yourself. It's almost overwhelming, but then you feel Alhaitham unfurl his grip onto your leg to grasp onto your hand.
It must be the endorphins, but you feel a warm ooze of affection for Alhaitham pool in your chest.
Logical, calm, and reasonable Alhaitham. Arrogant, antisocial, abrasive Alhaitham. Observant, considerate, and kind Alhaitham. You've known this man for so many years, and you are reminded in this instance that in all the times you have trusted him, he has never failed you once.
"Alhaitham-" You cry out. Your head feels hot as you curl your toes, your heels at his shoulders. When he hums in response, you feel the build up towards the beginning of the end. "I'm- I'm coming-"
You throw your head back, gasping in pleasure as your body jerks with waves of pleasure. Hazily, you feel Alhaitham lap at your hole at a slow but steady pace, his mouth never leaving you even as you buck against him.
Alhaitham only lets you go when your body slackens, legs limp in his arm as he gently sets it down in a comfortable position for you. You watch him, dazed, as he quietly grabs the towel to wipe his face and hands. He must see you look because he turns to you and offers you the towel too, though the mess between your legs is one of the last things you care about at the moment.
"C'mere," you say, arms reaching out for him. When he doesn't immediately come to you, you wave your hands insistently. "Plea-a-ase come here? I wanna cuddle."
A flicker of emotion comes and goes on Alhaitham's face before he replaces it with exasperation. "I didn't realize the benefits portion of friends with benefits included cuddles," he says, but he walks to you anyways, huffing in laughter at the small 'yay!' from you. Alhaitham settles in the space you moved over for him on the couch, and you immediately latch yourself onto him, head fitting easily at the crook of his neck. As his arms wrap around you, you heave a content sigh.
"You should have read the fine print, Alhaitham," you drawl, cheek pressed against his naked skin. "It was right there on page 562, 9th clause, addendum number four." You close your eyes, smiling at the sound of Alhaitham's little huff.
"Out of the two of us, I'm the one more likely to read a written agreement in full," he says. His voice reverberates in your ears, low and comforting.
You always thought he had a nice voice, reading out texts in class and reciting lines without effort. The two of you are a long way off from high school, but thinking back at the Alhaitham back then brings you good memories. It's even more so when you compare it to the Alhaitham now of whom reconnecting with was happenstance.
Alhaitham has changed a little in the years you have not seen him, with what you know now includes a fallout with Kaveh and an early college graduation. He's a little softer, you think, edges more blunt but still just as deadly when wielded with a sharp wit. It is to your comfort that most parts of him remain the same. A little smug, a little snark.
You're glad; you've always liked him just the way he is.
You feel his hand absently rub circles into your shoulders and feel as though that sentiment has only grown stronger.
"...You're hard again?" You ask after a moment, muffling your laughter into his skin when he clicks his tongue and shifts his legs so the offending body part in question is no longer touching you.
"A normal physical reaction," Alhaitham says, miffed.
You pause. "You want me to do it again?" You ask.
Alhaitham shifts so he can look down at you as you give him a grin, reaching down to grasp at his shaft and watching that moment when you catch him off guard, eyes fluttering in pleasure. Oh, yes, you think, heat pooling into your abdomen, you can certainly go for another round.
.
.
.
You tell him that you are tired of dating around with men you have no connection with, afraid to build intimacy when you are still inexperienced, and trust him enough to put up the offer to be friends with benefits. Alhaitham knows he is in love with you, but he says yes anyways. He does not make miscalculations often, but he acknowledges that he is only human, so he is prone to them occasionally. He thinks this decision to be friends with benefits with you may be one of them.
He has always had a hard time featuring his own feelings in the equation, surprisingly volatile in its unchanging affection for you even after all these years. (How long has it been since high school?) Anyone with a brain not controlled by their libido knows entering a purely sexual relationship with someone you’ve never quite stopped having feelings for is a recipe for disaster. But just maybe, being aware of that much will let Alhaitham avoid ruin.
It doesn't stop the way something in his chest twists painfully at the thought of holding you close even though you could not be more further away. After all, in initiating this relationship with him, you must have seen him as only a friend. You seem excited at the prospect of starting this type of relationship with him, and he is not one to deny you something if he believes it is something in his power to give.
On that note, he is surprised when he hears you have no experience being in a physical relationship with a man. Alhaitham does admit the idea of being your 'first' appeals to him, and because of that he thinks maybe he isn't so infallible to the whims of desire.
He's liked you for ages. He isn't sure even the best of men can refuse when the object of his affection asks him to treat them gently. (Or so he thinks. You may be more of his weak spot than he ever anticipated.)
You show up on his doorstep a week later, beaming at him when he lets you into his apartment. In the days leading up to this meeting, Alhaitham has prepped the environment with necessary amenities. You didn't specify what was to happen today, so he prepares everything to the lube to the condoms to the towels. Music, too, is something he did extensive research in, having learned that it can often set the mood.
Alhaitham isn't necessarily the most experienced person, but for the sake of knowing, he has slept with people and learned about his own preferences. He is more curious than he admits to finding out more about your preferences.
Still, when you look up at him doe-eyed and cheeks warm in anticipation, he is taken aback by the idea that he'll be the one to guide you today. He remembers when you were the one to direct him to class when he was lost as a transfer sophomore in high school. You were so assure of yourself, confident-- he never would have anticipated that you would have a shy side to you.
Perhaps that is what makes it all the more endearing, you all the more desirable, his chest searing with want as he closes the gap to finally feel your lips on his.
He really likes you, he's reminded, heart beating hard in his chest he thinks you might be able to hear it. And though you do not kiss him with the same feelings he holds for you, when you look up at him like that, he can almost imagine that you do.
Lips are one of the erogenous zones outside of sexual organs, filled with sensitive nerves that can sense even the slightest difference in temperature. The auditory sense is powerful too when it comes to stimulating the libido. It's why Alhaitham wants to devour you when he hears your small gasps as he pulls at your lips.
"Come sit," you murmur to him, and he can only acquiesce without a word. Good thing, because he would have been made speechless the way you boldly swing your legs over to sit on his lap. Alhaitham is acutely aware that his cock has begun to fill, straining against sweatpants that shows no effort to hide his arousal.
Your kisses sear his lips, your hands welcoming his to explore your body which he does with little hesitation. Alhaitham wants to see you in full, your breasts spilling out and nipples hard being irresistible that he cannot do anything but put his mouth to use again.
Your skin is smooth against his palm, your sounds of pleasure almost like music to his ears he almost wishes it weren't buffeted by the sensual base notes of a playlist he searched up last night. "I want to touch you too," you tell him breathlessly, and who is he to deny you that?
When you take a moment to admire his body, he takes this moment to look at you-- an overview, one might say. You are breathtaking in his perspective, lips slightly swollen, breasts bouncing when you adjust yourself. Alhaitham feels his cheeks warm when you innocuously grind yourself onto him (that damned skirt), and he only grows hotter when you do it again with purpose.
He should have known you would be able to flip the tables on him like that, inexperience be damned. You've always had a way to do that.
And then you are on your knees, hair up and ready to pleasure him, and he almost doesn't know what to do. Except he must-- you want him to guide you, to teach you how to make him feel good, and the way you easily do that forces him to do his best not to buck up into your touch. He must be more sensitive because it's you, or maybe you really are that fast of a learner, even when it comes to sucking cock.
Would you like dirty talk? He wonders, praise or degradation? You seem to like it a little rough, though you seem receptive to his gentleness too. Not that he can think it thoroughly with the way you are hallowing your cheeks, tongue swirling around his cock. Seeing you swallow his cum-- all of it-- is almost enough to revive his softening member, the way you look at him coyly an attractive look on your face.
He thinks the way your face contorts in pleasure is also an attractive look for him too. Alhaitham looks up from his position between your legs and watches you with hazy desire as you close your eyes, hand at your mouth to muffle your gasps. Alhaitham thinks of telling you to stop covering yourself, but he thinks that just this one time, his mouth has better things to do.
His name on your lips as you reach your high makes him close his eyes and hum in pleasure, tongue delving into you again as your slick gushes from your hole. Alhaitham is a man of pride, and watching your body slacken, spent on pleasure that he wrought from you makes his chest burn with satisfaction.
He wipes himself and sees you look up at him almost sleepily, and the satisfaction quickly morphs into gentle affection. He wants to kiss your forehead, clean you up himself and hold you. But is that too revealing? Too much emotion for a relationship like this? And Alhaitham is brought back to the reality that you are only his friends with benefits. (He is well aware of the concept of 'post-nut clarity' but finds it loathsome at the moment.)
Just as he begins to formulate words to wrap this scene in a pretty bow, you wave him over with an endearingly whining croon, and he comes to you without thinking otherwise. He is yours to hold-- always has been.
Alhaitham cannot control how you feel (would never want to), but he can control the way he will not fall apart even as you lay down with him, tracing shapes into his hand in a way he's never allowed himself to dream of. So close yet so far, he thinks, trying not to smile when you whinge at him at pushing you off the couch until you go to the bathroom. He'll take care of you as long as you'll have him.
.
.
.
You go over to Alhaitham's when you can. You try not to treat him like a booty call--though, as he has told you before, that is simply the nature of the relationship. But you are his friend before it comes with the benefits, so you try not to treat him any less. After all, you like spending time with Alhaitham, sex or not, though for some reason he seems almost bewildered when you come over his house and want to take him out for a taco truck you've been craving to eat.
"Isn't this what friends with benefits do?" You point out, biting into your taco. "Being friends with some extra stuff attached?"
Alhaitham looks at you for a moment. You take this time to squeeze some lemon onto his uneaten tacos for him.
"I suppose so," Alhaitham says noncommitally. "I was under the slightest impression you also wanted to use me for experimentation, considering your lack of experience. So you would want to take every opportunity we get to do something."
You scrunch your nose. "I don't like the word 'use.' It’s not like I talked to you and asked you this just for that reason." You frown, and the thought settles in you uncomfortably. "Please don't say that I'm using you. I'm not. I care about you," you say firmly. "I don't want you to feel that type of way, so if you do, we can stop being friends with benefits and just go back to-"
Alhaitham raises his hands in surrender. "No need," he says." I apologize. I wasn't being careful with my choice of words."
The discontent dissipates almost immediately with his words. You can't help but feel pleased. "And aren't you the one with a linguistics degree?" You tease, making him roll his eyes as he takes a bite of his food.
You imagine his eyes are rolled back again if he were to open them now on the ride back to his place as you give him a hand job. Only on the red lights, you vow; you wouldn't want to cause an accident on the road if he were to close his eyes while driving, though the unamused look he gives you has you biting the inside of your cheek to stop smiling.
The two of you end up parked at a neighborhood street when you unclip your seatbelt to finish him off with your mouth. You think his cum tastes a little better than before, and you tell him just as much when Alhaitham tucks himself back in. He only shrugs nonchalantly, but when you look into his fridge later after another session for refreshments you find freshly cut pineapple wrapped in a plate.
You wonder if you would taste better if you started eating them too.
And a month passes with the same routine: you ask if you can come over, the two of you go out to eat or go for an outing before inevitably ending up back at his place for some stress relief. You don't mean to do it every time you go to his place, but it ends up happening anyways. You ask if he wants to try something and then he says yes.
69-ing ends up being a lot more difficult than you anticipated, mainly because you keep getting distracted by things other than the pleasure itself. No matter how many times Alhaitham insists you're not too heavy, and no, you cannot break his neck (his confidence extends in all spheres), you can never get yourself comfortable.
And then there's the alignment issues. You may as well just take turns; it makes it easier for the both of you.
Some things he suggests too, such as face sitting. Alhaitham seems adamant on proving you wrong when he settles underneath you, your thighs on either side of his head as he serves as your seat until your legs are shaking in pleasure.
Alhaitham, you find out, is as good at dirty talk as you imagined. It's the linguistics degree in him, you always joke, but then you're always put in your place when he makes you beg for him to continue eating you out. He is smug as always after these sessions and you can only jab at him to no effect when you see it.
Leaving your jaw slack as he fucks your face, groaning about how good you're taking him, how good you look taking in his cock like you'd like nothing but to take his load down your throat- well. If it was possible for you to finish with just his words, you gladly would have. You are certainly close enough afterwards that Alhaitham only needs his hand on you for a minute before you're creaming onto his fingers, words murmured into your ears like soft feathers.
You voice does end up a little hoarse afterwards, throat sore, but Alhaitham is quick to bring you warm ginger tea to soothe it.
"Go to the bathroom," he tells you sternly. "I won't be responsible for any UTIs."
And when you come back from the bathroom, stark naked (you've instigated round two with this before by accident), your clothes are always ready and folded at the coach with Alhaitham in the kitchen getting you refreshments. It's times like these that make you forced to acknowledge the pink elephant in the room: the more you try not to think about it, the more you feel like Alhaitham would be a really great boyfriend.
Clearly, you overestimated your ability to not catch feelings for a long-time friend whom you trust and has told you straight up he is not interested in dating. You've put yourself in a bit of a sticky situation because you find yourself wanting to abide by the boundaries set by being friends with benefits, but also barely holding back from kissing Alhaitham on the cheek goodbye or asking if you can stay the night. Or taking him on real dates. Or holding his hand when you go out.
You think Alhaitham might not like the hassles that come along with being in a relationship. It's definitely got obligations that he may not be interested in fulfilling-- at least until he finds the right person. The fact he has not said a word to you about it only tells you that you are not that person. (Your heart hopes and yearns though, and you think it needs to shut up.)
Luckily or not, you end up being busy with work and family matters, so you don't get to see Alhaitham for a while. You still message him often, if only to talk about random things or complain about so-and-so. You think you should be more disciplined; perhaps the distance will keep your feelings at bay, but then the moment you find a reprieve in work you're immediately texting Alhaitham to meet up for coffee.
The feelings aren't going away, you think with mild exasperation when you find yourself nodding and hanging onto his every word as he talks about something stupid his coworker has done (and always does). All things come to an end, but you think you like to hang onto Alhaitham like this just a little while longer. Eventually you'll have to broach the dreaded but much needed subject of 'what are we?' but until then, you are more than content being with Alhaitham like this even if you wish you were officially together.
But you can't blame the way things have turned out. After all, if this never happened, would you ever have gotten close to Alhaitham like this?
You check the time on your watch and sigh. "Ugh, I promised I'd run errands for my mom so I gotta go," you say, standing up from the coffee table. You grab your empty cup and toss it in the trash. When you look at Alhaitham, he seems unsure. "Uh, what's up?"
"...I assumed we were going back to my place afterwards," he says carefully. "I thought that was why you called me."
"Oh, no," you say, mouth open with words at the tip of your tongue. You feel your heart rise to your throat as your cheeks grow hot at the honesty of your next words. "I just wanted to see you. Sorry. I should have said something."
"No, it's fine." Alhaitham pushes his seat back to stand too. "You did say we were friends first before the benefits."
You did say that, you remember, but now you can't help but wish the two of you were more than friends. You bite your tongue from blurting those words, but you end up staring at him for a moment too long to not be awkward. "Yeah," you end up saying, "I think I'll be able to see you again next week? I'm less busy, if that's okay?"
"Sure," he says, and you can't help but feel he is so far from you even though he is in arm's reach. "See you then."
It is settled in your heart and head (both in agreement this time) that your friends with benefits relationship with Alhaitham has an expiration date that is coming soon. You like Alhaitham too much to keep pretending that you don't, so it is only a matter of time you end up being just his friend again or begin something anew as a couple. The probability of Alhaitham also catching feelings for you the same time as you is basically zero, you think miserably, so you can only bite the bullet when the time comes.
"I think next time," you say after another session, "I want to have you fuck me."
You hear Alhaitham stop rummaging into his fridge to look at you. His face betrays no emotion and for a frustrating moment, you wish it did just so you can see if he is affected as you are. But this is Alhaitham, and you know better than to expect as much.
"Alright," Alhaitham says. "I can bring the lube and the condoms-"
"No condom," you find yourself saying, "I can take birth control." You look at him, gauging his reaction. "Is that okay with you?"
Alhaitham meets your gaze steadily. "If you are."
"You'll take responsibility, won't you?" You say with a light lilt to your voice, though you trust Alhaitham to take your words seriously. "I'll see you next week?"
He nods. "Next week."
.
The expiration date comes more quickly than you hoped. You shake your head and the negative thoughts away at his front door before you knock. You care for Alhaitham and you like him as more than a friend: these truths are unchanging for you now, so there is no point in despairing about what is not to be. Besides, you don't want your first time-- with someone, with Alhaitham-- to be marred with angst. You want to enjoy it with him to the last minute.
You ring his doorbell and hear his footsteps approach the front door, your heart beating fast in nervous anticipation.
Alhaitham looks normal, which is to say, as calm as ever when he lets you into his apartment. You put your bag down in your usual spot and amble to the kitchen take a sip of water. Alhaitham walks to his room first to wait for you, and with a deep breath in, you follow after him.
You are reminded of the first time you came over to his house, standing there as you wait for Alhaitham to make the first move. Alhaitham does the usual routine: putting the music on, setting out the equipment, and laying down the towel. He turns to you as you quietly watch him and bends down enough to press a kiss to your cheek.
You feel the tension melt away.
You raise your hand to brush his hair from his eyes before cupping his cheeks to bring him closer to kiss. They are gentle ones though still full of feeling, heat thrumming behind every touch and warm breath shared. "Alhaitham," you murmur, his hands sliding your shirt over your head and guiding you toward the couch.
It is almost rehearsed the way Alhaitham's fingers nimbly remove your bra, his knees between your legs as he helps you out of your bottoms. You sit waiting and watching as Alhaitham removes his own clothes--a personal show-- before he is back on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses along the same spots he knows can make you tremble.
And Alhaitham knows you quite well now, you think, beyond the bedroom. He knows how you take your coffee (not black), how you like to order your food (spicy), the way you can get carsick so he drives smoother, the nasty habit of staying up late so he messages you at 11 pm to tell you to sleep. You trust him so terribly much, and he knows you terribly well-- it is no wonder that you fall apart under his touch in no time at all.
"Alhaitham," you breathe out, holding onto his wrist before he overstimulates your clit. "I want you inside of me. Please?"
You let out a surprised gasp when Alhaitham turns you, so he is facing your front. Your heart is beating so loudly underneath your hands where you've rested them on your chest. You think maybe you would have cold feet but instead you are surer than ever that Alhaitham is someone you want to be your first. You gasp in pleasure when Alhaitham's cock clips onto your clit as he glides it forward and back along your sex. You don't think you've ever wanted someone as you wanted Alhaitham.
But you like to think you know Alhaitham well, now better than ever. So when you look up at him as a flicker of emotion flashes across his face, you can identify it. Alhaitham stays in that position between your legs, conflicted, and that is enough to ebb away the waves of desire to ask him if he's okay.
His expression freezes then, his grip on your legs tightening just a little before releasing them again. "What do you mean?" He asks, and you have half a mind to not laugh at the fact he thinks he can fool you.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," you say. "Not right now and maybe not ever if that's not something you want-"
"I-" Alhaitham snaps his mouth shut, lips twisting as he tries to say words that, for once, do not come easily to him. "That's not entirely true."
"What's not true?" You prompt.
"That this isn't something I want." Alhaitham looks steadily at you then. "Nothing could be more true."
"...Then how about you fuck something else?" You say, closing your legs and letting the plush of your thighs envelop his cock instead. Alhaitham swallows thickly, though his face is as impartial as ever (but you know better). "Pretend it's the real thing. For practice," you say coyly.
Alhaitham curses under his breath, closing his eyes at the sensation of his cock locked between your thighs.
You breathe out slowly, eyes mesmerized by the slant of his brows from concentration, mouths parted, and eyes closed in pleasure. You find that you don't mind this type of view at all, especially not for the finale. You watch every minute detail of Alhaitham chasing his bliss and ingrain it into your memory to keep.
You breathe out through your nose roughly when Alhaitham's cock hits your clit, his pace quickening as he slickens your thighs with a mix of your arousal and his. You moan at the thought of it, the sounds emanating from it a joint effort between your two bodies.
Alhaitham says your name then, making your heart skip a beat as your focus is back onto him. His eyes don't leave yours as he brings himself close to the climax. "Come for me, Haitham," you say, "come for me, baby."
Almost obediently, Alhaitham does as you say, cum staining your chest as though someone made your body a canvas. You watch him come back from his high, taking a finger to swipe some of it from your chest to taste. You smile at his coyly when you see Alhaitham watch you.
It's been fun, you think, as Alhaitham stands up to grab a towel to clean up. You sit up, combing a hand through your hair, working up the courage to say what needs to be said. You're jolted from your thoughts when you feel Alhaitham wipe a towel across your chest, cleaning up the mess the two of you made.
"Oh, thanks!" You say, laughing, "I almost forgot that was there."
"Your mind works in strange ways," Alhaitham says, and you think you are more compromised than you think when you hear the way his voice seems to dip lower, softer when he speaks to you. He pauses in his movement. "Sorry about earlier," he tells you. "Did you have another idea in mind?"
"It's fine, Haitham." You wave his concerns away. "And, um, sorta? It's nothing sexual actually, I just think I need to talk to you about something."
To his credit, Alhaitham only takes a moment to process your words. "Alright," he says. He takes a towel to wrap around your shoulders before putting his pants back on just for modesty. You watch him fondly as he sits next to you.
"I wanted to say thanks," you begin, "for doing this with me. I trust you to treat me right and you've never proven me wrong."
"No thanks needed," Alhaitham trails off, "is what I normally say but I don't mind a word of gratitude when it comes from you." He lets out a huff of laughter when you knock shoulders with him; yours is the only one that ends up a little sore.
"And I know we started this out as friends with benefits, but, um..." You breathe out. "I think... I've started to catch feelings for you." Not honest enough, you think, and add on, wincing, "A lot, actually. I like you as more than a friend." You turn away from him then, focusing on your hands as they fidget in your lap. "I don't think I can keep on doing this and pretend like I don't, so I think we should stop being friends with benefits."
You stammer, heart fluttering with anxiety, "A-And I know you said you didn't want to be in a relationship anyone, but I was wondering if you were interested in doing that with me...? If not, it's okay, I'm honestly really okay if we stayed as friends. I just wanted to be transparent with you because I think you deserve-"
"Why do you assume I wouldn't like you back?" Alhaitham cuts through. You turn to stare at him, and he meets your eyes and keeps them there. "I never said I didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone."
You stare. "What are you talking about? You're literally the one who told me you were never interested in dating."
"I'm not," Alhaitham says slowly. "I'm not interested in dating, but that doesn't mean I'm not open to being in a relationship with someone."
"Huh?" You blurt out. "But how are you supposed to be in a relationship with someone if you don't meet someone to date them first?"
Alhaitham is patient with you despite your growing frustration. It is so obvious he has connected the dots and is waiting for you to catch up. "I don't need to date," he says, "because I already met someone I'm interested in being with. I don't need to meet new people."
"Wait, what?" You gape. "Who?"
The face that Alhaitham gives you is by far the most unimpressed he has ever looked. You feel like punching it a little. You cross your arms, huffing.
"Give me hints or something," you say, clicking your tongue in annoyance. "Do I know them?"
"Very well," Alhaitham replies, sidling close to you that your arm can feel his body heat.
"Are they from our high school?"
"Yes."
"Really?" You gasp. "Well, we have your friends-"
"They are also your friends."
"-and my friends, which are yours..." You trail off, feeling your face warm and your heart rise to your throat. You can't be hopeful, you think. It is such a dangerous thing when you assume, but you think about who Alhaitham has befriended, who he is still friends with, and who he is closest to. The best answer you keep arriving to is yourself.
Is it too arrogant of you to think that it's you that Alhaitham wants to be with?
"No, it's not prideful to think it's you if it's true," Alhaitham says, and you wonder if you said it aloud. That thought is quickly discarded in favor of thinking over Alhaitham's words. Your heart feels fit to burst, lips wobbly without your permission. His eyes soften when he looks at you then, hand raising to cup your cheek.
"I like you," Alhaitham tells you. "I want to be more than friends."
"More than friends with benefits?" You can't help but ask, and you laugh through the sudden tears when Alhaitham scoffs before pressing his forehead against yours.
"Yeah, way more than that," he says quietly. He presses a gentle kiss to your temple. "I've always wanted more with you."
You sniffle, grinning. "Good thing I asked you then, huh?" You let put a shriek of laughter when Alhaitham pins you down, arms caging you in and making you feel nothing but safe. He looks at you then, eyes full of affection that you wonder how you could have ever missed that before.
"You want to retry from earlier?" Alhaitham asks, pulling your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.
"I won't lie," you say, laughing when Alhaitham nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. "That talk took a chunk of my energy. I kind of want to nap and cuddle. With you! Besides," you say, shifting so that Alhaitham can join you on the coach, the two of you as close as you can be, "we have all the time in the world to do new things together." You turn to look him in the eyes and hopes he sees how much you adore him in equal amounts.
"I can wait," you say, and Alhaitham leans to kiss you.
It is not the last time he does so.
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neptuneiris · 6 months
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could you pretend to be in love? (07/10)
To Dragonstone / Lovers
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: the trip to Dragonstone arrives and things between you and Aemond may remain distant or may take a big turn. you are sure of your feelings but does he feel the same way?
word count: 8.4k
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hello!
even i'm surprised that i updated and it didn't take me two or almost three weeks, but here it is!
i'm so happy for the recognition the story is getting, truly, thank you so much beautiful people, i hope you like this chapter a lot too. i'm looking forward to your comments!
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After what happened… there was a total change of behavior between you and Aemond.
Even that same day after he didn't drop you off at your house because you told him that Alysanne would be the one to drive you, that night he texted you that there was a party at one of his friend's house.
You didn't reply right away, you just watched the message appear on the top of your screen silently and did nothing.
And after a few minutes he texted you again telling you that if you didn't want to go with him, he was fine with it. And you just texted him back a short; have fun!
But still, you couldn't help but feel completely different, with this strange feeling and a knot in your stomach at having this distance with him.
But he didn't text you again for anything else.
Even also on that same day you saw Helaena, who told you again how sorry she and her mother were still. You also saw Aegon, but he just kept walking, acting completely unconcerned and as if the dinner had never happened.
And now, with things weird and distant with Aemond, today is the trip to Dragonstone.
You assume that you and Aemond will continue to pretend, since there was never a definitive statement where both he and you said you would no longer pretend. But since that night he told you about the party, he and you haven't spoken again.
There's really no plan for the trip. You don't even know if he and you will do this together, as a couple. You just don't know anything.
But you recognize that the two of you made a contract that includes the Dragonstone trip and also ending the fake relationship until graduation. So you prepare yourself despite the circumstances.
Besides you won't be alone, as Alysanne has also signed up for the trip, who just now is keeping you updated on all the things going on in her life as you both drag your respective suitcases along.
"But I don't know if I should say yes to him yet."
You let out a sigh, already feeling tired as you feel the weight of everything in your suitcase. But you can't really blame yourself because it's an all-weekend trip to the beach, so you should have brought everything you needed.
"To who?" you ask with the breath you're gathering, as you tighten your grip on your suitcase.
"Didn't you hear everything I said?" she inquires, "To Cregan."
"Ah… and why don't you know?"
"Well, you know…" she gives you a knowing look, "I don't know, he seems too perfect to me and there must be something wrong with him," she raises her index finger at you, "And he's too popular for my liking."
You frown, still walking as she does, heading toward the buses in the school parking lot that will take you all to Kings Landing port.
"Wait," you say confused, "So he already asked you out?" you look at her slightly surprised, struggling to keep up.
"Yeah," she says casually, "But I don't know."
"Oh come on," you look at her serious, "He's very nice, handsome, funny and a gentleman."
But she grimaces, showing her skepticism.
"Not exactly my type."
You roll your eyes, amused.
Then you both stop behind a line of people waiting to board one of the buses while one of the teachers notes on a list the students' attendance by asking for first and last name, so you have to wait.
"I think you should go out with him," you say, turning to look at her.
"Uhh…" she stares into the void, thoughtfully and doubtfully, "I don't know, bestie."
"He's a good match," you try to convince her, encouraged, "Besides he's already completely crazy about you."
"That's the problem," she sentences, "I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now. It seems better to me that we both just go out, have fun together and nothing else, no strings attached."
"He probably won't refuse the idea," you shrug, "But tell him and don't leave him waiting with his hopes high."
She snorts, gesturing with her hand.
"He's a man. I'm sure he can handle me never giving him an answer."
You let out a laugh.
"Don't be mean, Alysanne."
"What?" she looks at you innocently.
"Come on, you can do better than that."
"No, I don't think so."
You both let out a laugh now and are about to say something else to him, when a third voice interrupts you in conversation.
"Y/N?"
The two turn their heads and walking towards you, it's Aemond, with a somewhat unsure and nervous posture, which is totally unusual for him, but he's still watching you completely attentively.
He's wearing a white t-shirt and a black jacket over it, which makes him look ridiculously good for a common outfit. But what also catches your attention is how he has a silver chain sticking out from around his neck.
And God… why are you suddenly so nervous about being in front of him?
"Do you have a minute?"
You look uncertainly at him and then at Alysanne, having no idea what to say, further increasing your nerves.
"Hum—
"Go," Alysanne says to you, "I'll wait in line for both of us."
"Oh… all right."
You reply, smiling a little in her direction, only to walk over to Aemond and both of you step back a little so you can talk more privately.
And it's at that moment that your heart starts beating like crazy and you bite your lips, crossing your arms over your chest, nervous and a little… embarrassed.
"Listen," he starts to say, in a low and soft voice, "I just want to say that I'm really sorry for the way I reacted the other day," he tells you sincerely, "I'm sure I made you feel uncomfortable and to some extent trapped but believe me that was never my intention. Nor was it my intention for things to get weird between us."
"Yeah, yeah, I understand, don't worry," you nod, trying to hide your nerves and trying to look unconcerned, you too wanting to put this behind you, "I'm sorry too for trying to end it all that way."
"No, it's not okay," he assures you, "I just didn't understand anything and got frustrated," he admits to you gently, "And that wasn't right of me. Now I know how overwhelmed you must have felt with everything that happened."
"I-I guess I got scared and that was the easiest way I could think of to end it all when that wasn't right on my part either. After all… we have a contract—
"The contract thing doesn't matter," he interrupts you with a nonchalant gesture, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "The important thing is that we're both okay and that we don't distance ourselves from each other."
You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of relief at hearing his words.
"Yeah, you're right."
"So… everything good?" he asks you completely attentively.
"Yes, all good," you assure, wanting to put any misunderstandings behind you.
He is about to say something when one of his friends calls out to him from the line to board the bus.
"Aemond!"
You both turn your heads and his friend along with the teacher in charge watch him intently from the bus doors.
"I need to see your signed permission form, son," the teacher tells him.
He nods and goes back to watching you.
"I'll see you inside," he says before walking away towards his friend and you nod.
You walk back with Alysanne to the line and watch Aemond just a few feet in front of you, talking to the professor, and then he and his friend carry their bags up to the bottom compartments of the bus, eventually moving up the line.
And God… this is the sense of relief you so desperately needed to finally feel. Knowing that you're going to do this with Aemond, all about Dragonstone, relieves and excites you.
However, you should have assumed that even then things would get weird, because the feeling doesn't last long when you see Floris approach Aemond and the two of them start talking.
At first you don't think anything of it, but then, you see the way Floris approaches and behaves towards him.
A tingle of jealousy begins to bubble deep in your stomach as you watch the two of them talk. You also watch as some students watch the two of them and then you, standing apart, with curious and mischievous looks, surely waiting for the drama.
It's as if everyone knows what Aemond and Floris once were, only to then watch you, the new girlfriend, fade into the background after Floris has returned to school.
And Aemond's behavior towards you comes back to your mind.
He himself told you that he did not expect to see her again, so on another plane and in other circumstances, if Floris had not left the school, you are absolutely sure that Aemond would have required her help, totally.
And this between him and you would never have happened.
And maybe… Aemond is still interested in Floris, just as she seems to be still interested in him. But he can't do anything about it because he already has an agreement with you, he's stuck with you.
This relationship is fake, remember?
Your mind tells you, since for Aemond it's not real, but rather pure convenience, just an act, but for you… it's getting harder and harder to ignore the feelings that arise inside you.
Is it possible that your feelings are more real than you have allowed yourself to believe?
You watch as Aemond seems to want to subtly pull away from her to have his own space, but Floris moves closer again, as if they both share something that only the two of them know and that's why she has the confidence, even though he has a girlfriend, to act that way with him.
Which only makes you more annoyed and jealous.
But finally the line starts to move forward and you decide you won't give it any more thought. What's the point of worrying about something that, in theory, isn't real?
You board the bus behind Alysanne, where everything inside is full of excitement and energy, with students talking and laughing as they settle into their seats.
Then your gaze almost instantly meets Aemond's as you look at the seats, sitting in one of the first seats with the seat next to him empty, watching you intently and with a small smile on his lips, clearly waiting for you.
The temptation to go sit next to him is strong, but you decide to ignore it and keep walking behind Alysanne, passing him. And that instantly makes him react.
"Hey, hey," he quickly stands up and gently takes you by the arm, watching you with his soft gaze reflecting bewilderment, "Where are you going?"
Your nerves dissipate and you try to come up with a good excuse.
"Hum… you know, to sit with Alysanne," you point to your friend.
He follows your gaze but frowns, confused.
"But don't you think we should sit together?"
You stay silent for a few seconds, watching him intently and nervous, trying to come up with a better excuse. But he speaks again, trying to convince you.
"I packed snacks for both of us on the way and thought maybe we could watch a movie or something."
"Maybe on the way back," you say with an apologetic look, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.
And he frowns slightly, his gaze reflecting a mixture of disappointment and confusion as he tries to understand your behavior.
The two of you a few moments ago spoke, the two of you apologized to each other and you especially said that everything was okay or not? That's what keeps him confused, not understanding why the two of you are suddenly continuing this distancing, noticing your efforts to pull away from him.
"Come on," he insists, "Let Cregan sit with her."
"I'm sorry, Aemond," you say, "But I promised her I'd sit with her."
He seems to want to argue back, but you waste no more time and finally walk past him, moving away from him straight toward Alysanne in one of the seats almost at the back.
Aemond with a serious look sighs resignedly, feeling the disappointment inside, confused and with disillusion, not really understanding anything.
And when you arrive together with Alysanne, just as you take your seat, you look back to where Aemond is with a worried look and at that moment Floris appears, stopping in front of him with a small sweet smile on her lips.
"Will someone sit here?" she asks politely even though she already knows the answer, her tone with a familiarity that makes you stir in your seat.
Aemond turns his gaze back to you with a mixed expression of seriousness and disappointment before answering Floris.
"No," he replies with some annoyance, dropping back into his seat with a droopy attitude.
Floris complacently takes a seat next to him and you watch everything from afar, telling yourself that this is all a bad idea, with a swirl of emotions all over you.
So all the way to King's Landing port begins, where you distract yourself listening to music and avoid looking towards the seats where Aemond is with Floris.
At all times you feel this uncertainty and this unpleasant feeling that does not leave you in peace, even makes you feel sad, but Alysanne by your side manages to distract you in some moments.
Until you finally arrive at the port and in organized groups, the teachers make sure that all the students board the ferry that goes directly to Dragonstone.
Everyone around you starts taking pictures and videos of the wonderful view the ferry offers of Blackwater Bay, excited to get to Dragonstone.
And you start looking for Aemond with your eyes, finding him leaning on the ferry's railing with one of his friends next to him, both talking, but he has a more thoughtful expression as he gazes out at the ocean.
Despite being surrounded by people and his friends especially, he is distant. And you know he's like this because of you.
For one reason he asked to talk to you and clear up what happened between the two of you. You assured him that everything was fine and then pushed him away.
But can you really blame yourself?
You're fucking scared.
And for a reason Floris acts that way with him, because whatever there once was between the two of them, it's not over yet, you can feel it. And you have no right to reproach him for that because this is not real.
Still… it's better for you to start slowly pulling away from him and put on a show when it's really necessary. But how will you be able to do this together when things are like this?
That's why the uncomfortable feeling on the bus persists and Alysanne tries to distract you by taking pictures of the view, a selfie of the two of you together or by herself.
But despite these efforts, you can't stop thinking about Aemond and watching him from time to time.
Until the ferry finally docks at Dragonstone Island and the students begin to walk ashore with their suitcases in hand, full of excitement and high expectations for what awaits them this year on site.
And since you have never visited Dragonstone before, you watch in complete awe and amazement as the majestic and imposing modern castle stands before you almost on the water's edge.
It looks like a living museum, offering the relics of Old Valyria and its history, paying homage to the ancient house Valyria, a royal family that once ruled Westeros with the legend of having tamed dragons in their Reign.
The entire castle is made of stone, as well as its surroundings and all it has to offer.
And once inside, everything is majestically structured and spacious, with architecture of royalty, preserving that touch and the one that many decades ago a royal and powerful family lived here.
With a male guide, who is also chaperon of this 'excursion', he welcomes all the students and begins to guide them through the main corridors of the castle.
You are amazed to see the numerous display cases with ancient swords that had forged the history of the Valyrian house, as well as other possessions, be they wardrobes or jewelry of gold, silver and other precious stones.
There are also portraits of the ancient Kings and Queens who had ruled, as well as portraits of princes and princesses with the name, date of birth and date of death.
Being your first time in this place, it is obvious that you are excited compared to other students who have come here before and just want to have fun.
But you sense how the atmosphere is steeped in history and mystery. So you can't wait to learn more about this history that was in an ancient and legendary world.
"For those who don't already know, there are various activities you can do during your stay on the island," says the guide man, "You can enjoy the beach and swim in our crystal clear waters, but you can also dive with professional instructors to explore the coral reefs and marine life, as well as we also offer surfing lessons for beginners."
"I want to try surfing," Alysanne says next to you, without both of them letting up, and you watch her in surprise.
"Really?"
"I don't plan to dive, I feel like I'll go crazy with claustrophobia with so much suit and gear on me, not to mention you can't talk," she tells you with a grimace, "And swimming is so boring. I want something more exciting."
"And you can handle that?"
"Please, I can handle anything," she says with a certain superiority, making you laugh, "And what do you plan to do? Obviously not surf but then what?"
"Hum…" you think about it for a moment, "I don't know, maybe I'll visit the huge library and learn more about the history of this place and the whole Valyrian family."
Alysanne looks at you completely expectantly and showing you how much your answers have bored her.
"Are you serious?"
"We also offer a tour of our small aquarium located in the depths of the castle, where you can see a variety of fish and sea creatures," he man goes on to mention, "And lastly, we offer rides on our yachts and scooters along the coast, there are also paddle boarding lessons along our peaceful canals that meander through the island."
You look back at Alysanne beside you.
"Or maybe I'll join the paddling classes," you say with a shrug.
But that only makes Alysanne look at you like you're a hopeless case, sigh, and continue moving on, not telling you any more about your plans or she's afraid it will make you feel bad.
And you let out a little laugh, since of course you also want to enjoy the beach and also want a yacht ride.
And as all the students continue to move forward and you along with them, you still feel the tension between you and Aemond, who is moving a few meters ahead of you with his friends.
Despite the beauty and excitement of Dragonstone, still this uneasiness continues to weigh on your being.
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First night at Dragonstone and you've already been left alone.
Alysanne stated that she wanted to enjoy the luxurious bathtub in the room to immerse herself in a relaxing spa experience, so that's what she's doing now before starting the rough activities tomorrow.
And meanwhile you're stealing snacks from the huge kitchen since you've prepared one night of movies for yourself, which isn't a bad plan.
So with your pajamas on, you go back to the room, thankful that you didn't have any awkward encounters with anyone. In fact you were hoping to run into him, but that hasn't happened and you have no idea where he must be.
So with your snacks in hand and in the huge hallway where your room is located, you struggle a bit to open your door with your hands full, when someone enters the same hallway where you are.
"Hey Y/N."
You turn your head and meet Cregan, causing you to place a smile on your face in his direction.
"Hey Cregan."
He watches you with a small amused smile.
"Do you need help?"
"Well, I-I…" you try one more time, but everything is about to fall out of your hands, "Yeah," you finally agree.
He helps you with your snacks and also opens the door for you, then watches you curiously.
"Are you preparing one night of snacks and probably watching movies with Alysanne?"
"No," you reply laughing softly, "No, I—
"Ah, so you're going with Aemond to the hot tub," he interrupts you in a casual tone, assuming.
Confused by that revelation, you try to process the information, but before you can even pretend and react, which you really don't and remain silent like a fool, he notices and looks at you slightly confused.
"Oh, well... on my way here saw him alone in the hot tub and thought you were going with him."
And just then it happens.
Something snaps inside you.
An overwhelming sense of need overwhelms you from head to toe, you can't help it and you can't take it anymore.
You need to talk to someone about the truth and release everything you've been accumulating these past few days. But you know that if you do that, you would be breaking a contract rule.
But the thought of still holding all this in and not being able to talk to anyone about what's really going on is unbearable.
Alysanne would freak out and you have no one else to talk to. It's not like you have a lot of friends. So thinking hard, you quickly map out a plan in your mind and decide to confide in Cregan.
"Do you have a moment?" you ask with a lump in your throat.
Cregan gets confused and looks hesitant.
"Well, I—
"Alysanne is relaxing in the tub, she won't be out of there for a while and I really need to talk to someone about this," you plead.
And that's enough for Cregan to walk into the room behind you as he sees your face like you're about to explode and you tell him everything.
And God, it's a complete relief to be able to speak freely, without the pressure of keeping up the farce.
And you start by explaining to him why you decided to fake a relationship, and then tell him these feelings that you can't ignore anymore, as well as explaining everything you're feeling about Floris and how things are between you and Aemond.
And by this point, Cregan is very comfortable sitting on your bed, eating from your snacks while you wander around your room talking freely about everything that comes to your mind and he listens attentively.
"I'm completely crazy, aren't I?"
You watch him completely frustrated and looking for support, as the ideas and thoughts keep coming uncontrollably into your mind.
"I mean, this is fake," you clarify, waving your hands as you speak, "This wasn't supposed to happen, he just asked me for help and I asked for something in return to accept. And he clearly doesn't feel the same way I do."
You look at him in exasperation, worried.
"And I know I acted wrong with him this morning on the bus but—" you sigh, "You should have seen how he reacted when he saw Floris at school again. This whole thing with Aemond probably wouldn't have happened if Floris hadn't left school, it's obvious there's still something between the two of them and that makes me feel… so upset and so jealous when I shouldn't!" you exclaim frustrated, "And I find it best to just stay away from him so I can stop feeling all this and my big mouth won't even think of telling him how I really feel."
"Y/N—
"I'm right, right?" you don't let him speak, watching him completely intently and worriedly, "I'm crazy."
Cregan smiles softly in your direction in an attempt to comfort you and shakes his head, as he takes another bite of a chocolate bread.
"No, not at all," he replies sincerely, "You're just being honest with yourself and me."
You stop in front of him, fiddling nervously with the fingers of your hands.
"I had to blurt it out," you say dejectedly, "I'm so confused. And you have to promise not to tell anyone," you tell him instantly.
"I promise," he tells you instantly too, nodding.
"So what do you think?"
He lets out a long breath before answering, watching you calmly and quietly, preparing in his mind what he will tell you next, while you wait desperately and anxiously.
"Listen, I think it doesn't matter that the two of you have been pretending all this time, but Aemond likes you, a lot."
He assures you and your heart leaps, parting your lips and watching him completely intently.
"I've seen the way he stares at you—
"Have you already forgotten that all this time we've been pretending?" you interrupt him in exasperation.
"And you think you can fake a look of love if he's not really in love?" he asks you, expectantly.
You let out a sigh, bringing a hand to your forehead, massaging your temples.
"That doesn't matter, I feel he still has feelings for Floris and I'm just another fool who fell in love with Aemond Targaryen," you look at him hopelessly, "And if you think about it, it's embarrassing."
"Okay, let's analyze the facts," he says confidently, incorporating himself better on the bed, "The fake relationship was his idea, you set most of the important rules and you're the one who wants to end the relationship, but you're here locked in your room preparing a movie night for yourself alone while he's waiting for you in the hot tub," he tells you condescendingly while pointing at the door with his thumb.
You watch him completely attentively, almost hesitant and unsure, thinking about it.
"And if you think about it precisely, yes, Aemond and Floris had something but it was nothing serious, he later went back to Alys and now that he erased Alys from his life, there is you and no one else," he explains to you, "Floris' return means nothing because he could have told you that it was better to end the fake relationship when he saw her again, but he didn't tell you anything, it was you," he assures you, "And yes, maybe you fell in love first, but eventually he also fell in love with you and harder."
Cregan's every word hits you like a wave of revelation, making you rethink your perceptions and doubts.
Maybe, in the midst of all this confusion, conflict and your doubts, Cregan is right.
Maybe Aemond really is in love with you, despite the fake relationship, Alys and Floris… maybe he is and the thought is as overwhelming as it is comforting.
If so… then what will happen?
You don't know but wanting to find out excites and scares you at the same time.
"Do you think he's waiting for me in the hot tub?" is the only question you can utter out of the thousands in your mind, watching him hopefully.
"Of course," he gives you an obvious look.
So you waste no time.
You leave on your pajamas of silk shorts with a tank top of the same fabric and throw a coat on over them. It's not really cold but the air here on the island is frosty enough for you.
And as you step outside a part of the castle where the hot tub is located, with your heartbeat echoing in your ears, you are greeted by a cool, salty breeze that caresses your skin.
The hot tub area is illuminated by a series of lights hanging from the ends of the trees, creating a calm and relaxing atmosphere. But what stands out the most is the blue light of the hot tub.
And there you see him.
You focus on the lone figure of Aemond as you move forward, who has his back to you, gazing off into the horizon, thoughtful while also distracted by the bubbles the hot tub is making around him.
You pause for a moment, watching him from a distance, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your chest.
The silver chain around his neck shines with a soft glow from the blue light, adding a touch of mystery to his profile, just as his white skin glows slightly from the glint of water on his skin.
The sound of the hot tub echoes in place, as well as the ocean waves outside and with nerves blocking your mind, you finally approach him, with quiet determination.
"Mind if I join you?"
You say to him with some insecurity and in a soft tone, hugging yourself, nervous and attentive.
Aemond turns his head towards you and his eye meets yours.
And if his gaze reflected surprise, he quickly turns back to an unexpressive face and without saying absolutely nothing to you, where you also tried to smile a little at him, he turns his gaze back to the front.
And you don't let it get to you, at least not yet.
"What? Now you're going to ignore me?"
And thankfully that's enough to make him talk to you. At least a little bit.
"Oh now I'm the one ignoring you?" he retorts bitterly, without even looking at you, "That's funny."
And he continues to turn his back on you, without saying anything else, to which you let out a long breath and without giving up yet, thinking about what Cregan told you and also considering your feelings, you approach him.
With hesitant steps, you climb the steps leading to the entrance of the hot tub and approach the edge, feeling the warmth of the water and the gentle steam rising in the air.
Feeling Aemond's gaze on you, you take a seat on the edge and dip your feet into the water as you return his gaze, which makes your heart pound in your chest again.
He is completely beautiful.
And the words don't come out of your mouth as you are hypnotized for a moment watching the flashes of light on his serene face with his flawless skin and those features that make him look so handsome.
But you finally focus.
"Well, I'm sorry this is my first trip here and I have no idea how to do the activities when you didn't even offer to guide me," you foolishly try to justify yourself.
"Oh and now I'm supposed to guide you after you ignored me on the bus?" he inquires.
You feel the blood rise to your cheeks and look away for a moment, embarrassed.
"Well, I thought I should do you a favor," you admit sheepishly, not really knowing what to say.
And you just had to say that?
Your mind reproaches you.
"Favor?" he repeats in confusion, "What favor?"
"It's obvious Floris is still interested in you," you explain, "And you and she had a thing in the past so was it better for her to sit down with you or not?"
Fucking fool.
Your mind keeps reproaching you, but you don't know why you had to say that either!
And you know it was really bad as Aemond makes a gesture of exasperation on his face and shakes his head as he averts his gaze from you and stretches out both arms to the edge of the hot tub.
"You know?" he starts to say in a frustration-laden tone of voice, watching you "For being such a good student… you can be really dumb sometimes."
You frown, bewildered by his words.
"What?"
"I wanted to sit with you, Y/N," he tells you in exasperation, wanting to make you understand, "Not with Floris or anyone else, just you," he says, his tone softening as he looks at you intently.
Oh.
Yes, oh.
Now you feel stupid and of course you should feel exactly that way.
And as Aemond's words echo in your mind, you feel a mixture of emotions inside you.
On the one hand, a sense of relief and joy finds its way into your chest as you hear his sincere words and know that he wanted to be with you. But you are also overcome with a slight embarrassment at your initial lack of understanding.
And because of the same nerves and how stupid you still feel, a soft laugh escapes your lips at his confession.
"So, Floris…
You let the words float in the air, as you watch him with that insecurity in your gaze.
"Floris was just a one time thing in the past. She doesn't interest me anymore," he assures you gently and firmly, completely honest.
You both remain silent for a moment, only hearing the bubbling of the hot tub, where you mostly admire how the blue light reflects all over his body and face, looking so fucking good.
Not to mention he has no shirt on.
You can feel the electricity in the air as he watches you with his face softer compared to a few moments ago, there's also almost adoration and hope, all just the same way you're watching him.
Then you break the silence.
"I'm sorry I didn't sit with you on the bus," you say sincerely.
And he makes a nonchalant gesture with his hand.
"It's all right."
And once again, silence envelops you as you both sink into the intimate and complicit atmosphere that surrounds you.
Then once everything has been 'cleared up' somehow, you sit up and take off your coat, to begin soaking in the hot tub along with him, causing him to watch you attentively and in confusion.
"You're going in your sleeping clothes?" he asks in a doubtful tone.
"I didn't bring a swimsuit," you reply, stopping in front of him and allowing yourself to enjoy the shared quiet and intimacy along with the warmth of the water.
You watch as his gaze sweeps over your body, mostly focused on watching the way the water envelops you in just the same way he does and you don't stop, as you position yourself right in front of him, your face inches from his.
And already starting to feel a little embarrassed by his burning gaze on you, you say the first thing that comes to mind.
"You know, I've never seen you without that chain," you say, feeling your knees bump against his thighs.
He smiles slowly, showing off his perfect aligned white teeth, marking each cheek with his beautiful dimples, having a knowing glint in his eye that is reflected as he inspects your face.
"It's part of me," he replies, in a soft, deep, husky voice than usual that sends shivers down your spine, "But I think I might make an exception tonight."
And before you can fully comprehend his words, you feel Aemond's hand on your thigh from under the water, sending a surge of electricity through your body.
Surprised, he makes you sit on his lap, while his other hand rests on your waist, drawing you to him gently but with remarkable determination, surprising you and making you feel instantly nervous.
You place your hands on his shoulders, seeking stability, as you watch him with your parted lips, seeing that the space between the two of you no longer exists.
The intensity of his gaze and the softness of his face take your breath away for an instant, reminding you why you are drawn to him in the first place. And a mix of emotions overwhelm you as you realize how much you've been longing for this moment.
Then you both shorten the little distance that separates you and finally you feel the sweet contact.
With no one around, no one else's eyes on you, just the two of you alone here, you kiss.
A slow and deep kiss, where you feel Aemond's lips soft and warm against yours, making you let yourself go and move closer to him if possible, taking one of your hands to caress his cheek.
And his body responds to your caresses, pulling you closer towards him as if he can't get enough, settling better into his lap and tilting his head to the side, deepening the kiss, where his hands run down your back, causing his touch to cause electric currents through your body.
Then you both pull away a little with a wet sound from their lips and you watch him directly into his eye, unable to believe this is actually happening, where Aemond breathes through his mouth and brings one of his hands up to your cheek, watching you intently and with that lazy smile.
"What?
With a small smile on your lips, you shake your head.
"Nothing," you reply in a soft tone and that makes him smile a little more, starting to trace your cheek with his fingers and your face with his gaze.
"You don't know what you're doing to me, love," he murmurs against your lips, his voice hoarse, "The way you make me feel… it's indescribable."
His words wash over you like a comforting warm wave, spreading throughout your chest and causing a sensation to settle in your lower abdomen.
His hand on your thigh slides all over your skin, producing shivers as he pulls you even closer and your whole body trembles slightly from the intensity in his desire as he shortens the distance again and his lips seek yours with a hunger that matches what you are feeling.
And in that moment there is no doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming certainty of the connection that exists between the two of you. And just like him, you let your actions speak for you and everything you are feeling right now.
You deepen the kiss, as you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses and your fingers gently glide over the skin of his face and run along the contours of his jaw.
"This wasn't in the contract," you murmur against his lips, agitated.
"No, it wasn't," he tells you just as agitated as you are, catching your lips with his again.
Then your other hand comes down on his bare chest, tracing his muscles and feeling the heat of his skin against yours, sending an electric shock that ignites a burning, fierce fire throughout his body.
Aemond moans against your lips and brings one of his hands to the back of your neck, tilting his head and holding you exactly where he wants you, while his other hand travels between the skin of your thighs and your lower back.
Then you decide to move on top of him and his breath hitches as he feels your movement and you too feel a tingle in your crotch.
Both he and you can feel the tension grow between the two of you and suddenly it is as if the world has vanished, existing only him and you with this moment of pure connection and desire.
And with each caress, you feel yourself falling more and more under the spell, lost in the intoxicating, indulgent pleasure you begin to experience. And with his heart beginning to pound, his caresses become more daring and urgent.
You too move with more purpose on top of him, beginning to feel a bulge grow just below your nerve center that caresses him and makes you feel so good.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks against your lips.
"Please don't," you sentence, kissing him again.
You gasp against his lips and you both begin to gasp, feeling Aemond's chest rise and fall every instant, just like yours. And with the warm, comforting water enveloping you both it only makes it feel better.
You run your hands through his hair, pulling it away from his forehead to lean into him and continue kissing him as you continue to roll your hips on top of him, when he pulls away from you and begins to leave a trail of wet kisses from your cheek and down to your neck.
All your skin bristles and you let your head fall back, giving him more accessibility.
"Fuck," he murmurs hoarsely into the side of your neck.
And you lean into him again, kissing him, wanting to feel the caress of his lips on top of yours.
But then when the need and desire begins to build to a pace where Aemond thinks he won't be able to stop afterward, he decides to stop right there, pulling away from your lips and making you stop moving.
"Wait," he says to you in a low, husky tone, breathing through his mouth.
You look at him slightly confused, just as agitated as he is.
"What's wrong?" you say with your heart pounding in your chest as you take a deep breath.
He tries to catch his breath, closing his eye and resting his forehead against yours, still holding you above him.
"We can't," he says with some frustration.
You force yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to feel confusion and uncertainty invade you, watching him intently.
"Why not?" you ask in a whisper, still leaning into him.
He lets out a long breath through his nostrils, clearly fighting against the hardness beneath his shorts and keeping you on top of him in a way where you don't touch him or he'll go completely insane.
But his silence only makes you worry and think things that really aren't.
"Or is it that you don't want to do it with me?" you ask fearfully and with embarrassment starting to creep up on you.
"What?" he quickly looks at you, "No, no, that's not what I mean, of course I want to do it with you," he answers you quickly and completely honest, "But we can't do it here."
He points his gaze around you, to again look only at you with that intensity, revealing a mixture of his desires and his inner conflicts.
Oh.
A sense of relief washes over you as you realize it's not rejection, but concern for the circumstances.
"Ah… right," you say with a mixture of embarrassment and relief, also briefly glancing around you, "Sorry, I hadn't thought of that."
Aemond looks at you tenderly, his gaze softening with a mixture of desire, vulnerability, and what you think is love reflecting in its depths, then pulling your face towards him again.
"It's okay, we'll find another time," he assures you, his tone comforting.
You smile softly as you place your hands on both of his cheeks and he kisses you deeply again, causing you to melt into his arms and let yourself be completely carried away.
You feel embarrassed by your misunderstanding, but also grateful for his concern and consideration.
And you don't know exactly how long you both lasted inside the hot tub, just kissing and nothing more, occasionally playing with the bubbles, sharing an intimate and special moment together.
"I missed you," he murmurs against your lips, leaving a soft kiss that makes you smile.
"Me too," you confess, kissing him again.
And though desire still burns between the two of you, you both know it's best to wait and save that moment for a more private and suitable place.
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You still don't know what the fuck happened.
But what you do know is that you went to sleep with a silly smile on your lips and at dawn, you put the same silly smile back on your lips as you remembered everything that happened.
However, surprise and fear also flooded you after remembering exactly everything you and Aemond did.
The two of you were going to have sex.
You were going to have sex with him in a hot tub.
You didn't even care about anything, the fact that they were out in the open, the fact that you weren't physically or mentally ready or even the fact that you and he weren't even real boyfriend and girlfriend.
But you wanted to do it, God, you wanted it and badly.
He was even the one who had to stop everything when on another plane, you probably would have done it, but no. You weren't thinking, you were completely drunk with pleasure and now shame is the only thing you feel all over your body.
You can't even tell Alysanne because of the shame and because you know she won't stop laughing at you. You even plan not to leave the room to avoid running into him. But Alysanne makes you go with her to her first surfing lesson.
And ready for the day as you walk with her down the stairs to the main lobby, you think about how if things with Aemond were already weird and awkward before that moment, now the two of you won't even be able to see each other's eyes.
But to your surprise, that's not what happens.
There are several students and teachers already in the lobby when you see his characteristic silver hair, but before you can react and even think, Aemond walks towards you with a small smile as soon as he sees you and kisses you, surprising you since you definitely didn't expect that.
And of course you noticed the look Cregan gave you both, but more to you specifically, but you just told him with your look that you will talk to him about everything later.
And so you start your activities in Dragonstone, with Aemond.
Of course you first keep Alysanne company in her surfing lessons and after she is totally focused on that, you and Aemond spend time together.
Under the golden sun, painting the horizon with warm hues and golden sparkles on the ocean waves, you both enjoy a walk along the shore of the beach, enjoying the salty air and the sea breeze that envelops you.
You talk about everything and about almost nothing at the same time, him being the first one to dare to hold your hand while you enjoy your little walk, making the blood rise to your cheeks and you enjoy like every teenage girl in love these little moments.
Then you both play a game of volleyball, where you both laugh and have fun as you immerse yourselves in the game.
And clearly from running around so much in the intense sun and getting almost sweaty, you get the idea that you both should swim a bit and surprisingly Aemond doesn't refuse the idea, even though he doesn't know how to swim, but you offer to teach him.
In a gray two-piece bikini, you lead him out into the waves, explaining how to move in the water and breathe properly, causing him to begin to gain confidence and enjoy the sensation of being carried by the waves.
But of course after that would come the laughter and playfulness, both laughing and talking while enjoying the sun and the salt water.
And in that moment, the fun turned into an intimate moment as Aemond holds you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. There is a silent intention in his gaze as he touches your skin with his burning hand and you don't pull away, on the contrary, you lean towards him.
You wrap your legs around his torso and his lips press against yours in a deep kiss, losing themselves to each other in the middle of the sea.
And when you both separate, you look at each other with a mixture of shyness and affection, while Aemond places a damp lock behind your ear, feeling a pleasant sensation that he can't quite describe envelop him, especially at the moment when you again leave a soft, tender kiss on his lips.
And with beaming smiles on your faces, you both get out of the water and go upstairs to your rooms to bathe and change your clothes.
But then the two of you meet again and he accompanies you to explore the castle together, marveling at the ancient relics and all the history that surrounds the place.
He also accompanies you to the library to take some photos and to the roof terraces where you get magnificent views of the whole island.
And in the castle's aquarium, you both find yourselves surrounded by fascinating sea creatures, sharing tender moments together as you watch the fish swim around.
The sea creatures seem to dance in the water, their bright colors and movements mesmerizing you as you walk among the tanks.
And as you both move through the exhibits, Aemond more than anything couldn't resist hugging and kissing you, expressing his affection in every gesture and you of course didn't mind.
"You are beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, watching you with that bright glint in his eye as he watches the reflection of the sun and water on your face, creating an aura of serenity and beauty around him.
The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you smile shyly, feeling so silly.
"You are beautiful too, Aemond Targaryen."
You lean towards him and leave another soft kiss on his lips that he reciprocates instantly, taking you by the waist and bringing you completely closer to him, wanting to keep touching and kissing you.
But you both continue the little tour holding hands, where you also take pictures together and of everything you see around you, wanting to capture these moments.
And even though he and you haven't really talked about anything, this doesn't feel like you're both pretending. This feels real and you like the way it feels when you are with him, being completely honest and genuine with your feelings.
Then the day goes on as normal and as expected, after doing all the educational activities in a certain way, it's time for the party.
"There will be my friends, Cregan, my sister and well, Alysanne if she wants to come too," Aemond tells you as you both head towards your rooms.
"I'll convince her to go," you assure him.
"Okay, I'll see you in fifteen minutes then."
"All right," you smile at him.
He leaves down a different hallway from the one you're heading down since each of your rooms are separate and you're focused on getting ready for this party.
You don't know how, but he and his friends have arranged to take a yacht for the night. Obviously they are not going to ride around in it with the night sky, but apparently they have everything ready for everyone to drink and enjoy a while.
Fortunately you convince Alysanne and the three of you soon arrive at the yacht that is stranded in the west harbor of the island, where Aemond's friends are already there, getting everything ready.
Then the music plays, the LED lights turn on and the drinks begin to be served.
Sitting on Aemond's lap, you didn't think you'd have as good a time as you're having now, laughing and talking to everyone, occasionally hugging and kissing him.
And fortunately nothing unfortunate or unpleasant happens, there is only the company of your friends and you enjoy Aemond's presence, clinging to him at every opportunity, hugging him and singing some songs with him like everyone else, having a good time.
And fortunately in the following days there is no activity you don't do with Aemond, even now if you go for a yacht ride, where you can perfectly see some students and also Alysanne practicing surfing.
You also cheer up with the scooter ride, just like him, completely enjoying the moment and the experience.
And you honestly don't want any of it to end.
You want everything to continue to be perfect.
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general taglist:
@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys
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starlightazriel · 3 months
Text
bee 1
series general psa: this series is not for everyone proceed with caution and check warnings before indulging I love you all<3
desc: (fem reader) modern au best friends to lovers, roommate az, angsty + smutty, multiple parts (not sure how many yet at least 5)
warnings: 18+ , light smut, light angst?, pining, vibrator, self stimulation, drug/alcohol abuse/addiction, platonic childhood fluff, childhood trauma cus its az helloo, readers a lil insecure, cancer minor character
wc: 2.7k
a/n: I'm salivating
other parts will be found on my azriel masterlist
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one
"Get it offff!" I screamed to absolutely no one in particular. My mother was inside cooking, my father still at work, so they clearly wouldn't hear me. My arms flailed wildly around my head. "It's going to sting me!" I scream again, going cross eyed as I looked at the bee perched on my nose, the bee buzzed, sharp pain shot through my nose, my eyes welled up with tears, too frantic to notice the boy across the street, watching me from his own front yard.
"Are you okay?" my eyes drift to the boy who had just moved in across the street, he was eating a lollipop, now standing on the sidewalk in front of my front yard. I had stopped flailing, but I was still crying, tears rolling down my cheeks as I held my hand to my nose. I haven't spoken yet, and the boy shrugs, about to turn around and retreat back to his own house. His skin was tan, hair black, short, but shaggy with a slight wave to it, there were two small purple bruises underlining each of his hazel eyes, I also noticed the scars covering his hands, almost looking like a thousand tiny cuts that had healed over, he was taller than me, and maybe just about the cutest boy I had ever seen in my nine years of life.
"It stung me," I say, watching him, he stops again, a half smile on his face, cheek popped out from the candy he was eating.
"That's because youre supposed to stay still," he informs me, matter of factly, my face scrunches up, eyes squinting at him, he laughs, pulling the candy from his mouth again. "Im Az, I just moved in yesterday, over there," he turns and points back toward his house before turning to me again. "What's your name?" he asks, his head cocking to the side slightly, it reminded me of when my parents brought my golden retriever home on my fifth birthday, I had named him Boots.
"Y/n," I inform him matter of factly, eyeing the candy that he had. A blow pop, my favorite, "do you have any more of those?" I ask, he looks at his candy, smirking and then looking back at me. "Specifically green apple," I add, it was my favorite flavor.
"Yeah, but I'm saving the green apple," he shrugs, still smirking. I purse my lips slightly, eyeing the bruises again.
"What happened to your eyes?" I ask, my own meeting his and he shrugs again.
"Got caught stealing and my step mom made my brothers pop me," he responds, my eyes widen in surprise.
"What did you steal?" I ask, my eye brows raising slightly, I couldn't imagine the trouble I would be in for stealing, but it wouldn't have been that.
"Blow pops from the corner store," he smirks and I shake my head in surprise, I would never think to steal anything in my life. "You look like Pennywise, you should put something on that," he points to my nose, I reach my hand up to touch it again, the sting aching.
"You stole them, and you can't give me even one? And who is Pennywise?"
"The clown? Your parents don't let you watch scary movies?" He asks and I shake my head, eyeing the lollipop again. "Fine, I'll go get you one but only because I feel bad for you cus your parents are strict. And only if you go fix your clown nose, Bee."
"I told you, my names y/n."
"Not anymore."
-
"Hey," I smiled softly as Azriel entered the kitchen in our shared apartment. I was perched on my stool, laptop on the counter in front of me with my most recent homework assignment open. I was pretty much glued to my computer these days, trying to become a nurse while also working a full time bartending shift at Murphys didnt leave me with much extra time. Our eyes met for a brief moment and mine narrowed at his slightly dilated pupils, his eyes quickly darted from mine as he poured himself a drink. "It's early," I commented, and he glanced back at me for a second before shrugging his shoulders and chugging the drink in a few gulps.
"What do they say Bee? It's 5 somewhere, yeah?" he smirked, his eyes finding mine again, I swallowed, feeling my cheeks heat slightly. I averted my gaze, my eyes landing back on my laptop screen, "you working tonight?" he asked, walking past me to the living room, I swiveled around on my stool, facing him now, my back to the counter.
"Yeah, nine to three," I said as I watched him ruffling through the files of drawings that were on his desk. He had a nice little home set up for drawing, an optional backlight built into the desk with an additional overhead lamp, a comfortable chair, an array of drawing utensils and unlimited transfer paper for tattooing.
There were dozens of Azriels drawings all around the apartment, even a few of me.
"If youre up for it we're all supposed to go to the beach tomorrow, Rhys' parents went home so the beach house is empty again," Azriel said, and I find my eyes drifting to his lips while he spoke, I quickly snap my eyes back up.
"Yeah maybe, I'll see how dead I am tomorrow after working all night. I have a paper due Monday too," I bit my lip, my eyes fixing on his jawline, the way it flexed just a little each time he swallowed.
"Just let me know, you know youre always welcome," he shrugged, checked his phone again and then started toward the door. "See you later, Bee, I got clients back to back the rest of the day."
Before I could even get any more words out he was out the door. "Bye Az," I said softly to the empty apartment, rising to my feet.
Azriel had always been there for me. Since the day after he moved across the street and we'd met and bonded over green apple blow pops, we had been near inseparable since. So naturally, when I got into college, he offered that I move in to his place, since it was closer to the city, 'I'm barely home, you'll have all the silence to study,' I recalled him saying when I had been hesitant about it. After high school, I had taken four years off to help my mother tend to my grandmother while she battled cancer, so even with my reservations about the idea I had ended up taking Azriel up on his offer... The alternative would have been dorming with fresh out of high school freshmen at twenty two years old.
The only reason why I had been hesitant really is because I had been completely and hopelessly in love with Azriel since I was fifteen years old.
I knew it was stupid. If it was going to happen, it would have happened already. He liked older women first of all, and I was two years younger. Plus, I was just Bee to him, just his friend, just the girl that had lived across the street. And that's all he would ever see me as, just his younger best friend that he had to look out for.
Azriels routine was always the same, he'd come back for his lunch break around the same time every day, whether it was to actually eat lunch, get something for work, or have a drink or two, he wouldn't be home again until usually the evening or late at night. Until whenever he was done either tattooing, or drinking with his friends from the shop after they had all finished.
So any time he left after his lunch break, I knew I had the house to myself for a while.
I put music on first, turning the volume almost all the way up before I retrieved my rose vibrator from my room and I crossed the hall to Azriels room. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, I knew it was wrong, some might even say a little bit creepy. But the rush... It was well worth it.
His bed wasnt made, there was clothes scattered, a few more folders on the small coffee table were stacked next to his bong and a small tray with powder residue, a twenty dollar bill curled next to it, unraveled after having been rolled up. "Messy," I mumbled to myself before I climbed into his bed.
I bit my lip slightly in anticipation, and slid my t shirt over my head, I tossed it to the floor, my shorts next, leaving me naked on Azriels bed. I leaned back onto his pillows, relaxing slightly, tipping my head back against them. His scent filled my nostrils, my toes curled, heat seeming to spread over my skin.
I closed my eyes and ran my fingers over my skin, Azriel consumed my mind, my senses as I slowly slid a finger over my opening gently dipping into the wetness that had gathered there.
I moaned softly, imagining the way his rough fingers would feel on my skin. I imagined his naked body, imagined how big he would be, imagined the way he would kiss me, the way he would suck on my skin.
-
"Dammit," Azriel muttered to himself, searching through the folder of drawings again and again. His next appointment was in only twenty minutes, and he had of course, grabbed the wrong folder. He rose to his feet quickly, informing Kat, the shops receptionist, that he would be right back and to let his client know when they got there.
When he reached the apartment he could hear music before he even unlocked the door, he chuckled softly, figuring that Bee was cleaning the apartment. She would blast music every time.
He entered into the living room and headed to his desk, scrambling through the folders looking for the right piece. "Fuck," he said quietly to himself, realizing that the drawing wasnt there. It had to be in his room.
His eyebrows drew together when he noticed his door open, and when he reached the doorway he halted, his lips parting in surprise.
It was Bee.
In his room.
Touching herself.
He knew he should go, he knew he should forget the drawing, cancel his appointment, and turn right back around and leave before she saw him. He would have to make something up for his client, but it would save Bee the embarrassment of the sight before him.
He couldn't move though. His mouth went dry, his cheeks reddened as he watched, his cock twitched in his pants.
Her head was turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut, face half buried in his pillow, her back was arched, legs spread wide open on his bed. Her pink nipples were adorned with small rhinestone nipple rings, her breasts were peaked in the air, chest shuddering with her ragged heavy breaths. And her moans. The sound had his gut churning and his ears hot, he couldn't move, he couldn't stop looking.
His eyes landed between her legs next, his mouth watered at the sight of her puffy pink lips. Her pussy throbbed, her juices glistening in the rather bright light of his bedroom, she held a toy to her clit, grinding against it as her other hand flew up, rubbing and squeezing at her breast. She turned her head then, her eyes opening to look down at herself but they landed on Azriel instead, her eyes widened and her face went from shocked, to horrified, to ashamed. She almost choked, chucking her toy across the room and scrambling too her feet, it buzzed a little louder now that it wasnt suctioned to her clit. Azriel watched dumbfounded from his place in the doorway, his cheeks red, his whole body feeling hot.
"Turn around!" she shrieked, trying to cover her most intimate parts with her clothes she had retrieved off of the floor and he whirled instantly, putting his back to her now.
"Y/n, fuck, Im sorry, I forgot something," he swallowed, his voice sounded slightly strained, his mouth almost too dry to speak. He never really used her name, she was always just Bee. He didnt know why he was apologizing even, it was his room after all. He'd have to ask her about that later though.
"Im sorry, I- Your bed is comfortable," was all she managed to get out.
He couldn't help but turn his head slightly when she pushed passed him to the hallway toward her room, and he noticed he small tattoo of a bee at the top of her left cheek, a lump formed in his throat at the view of her backside, her door slammed behind her and he was left stunned. Her vibrator was still buzzing on the floor and he picked it up, turning it off and he tossed it on the bed next to the wet spot that was there now, he didnt know what else he was supposed to do with it. He figured shed come back for it later.
He was trying to process what had just happened but his phone rang, it was Kat, informing him that his client had been there for fifteen minutes already so she hoped he was on his way.
Azriel snapped out of it, finding the folder he needed on the coffee table and he tucked it tightly under his arm pit. His cock ached in his pants and he didnt know how to feel about it. This was Bee. His best friend Bee, he hadn't ever looked at her in any other light than that. She was beautiful, sure, but she was Bee. His silly, goofy, younger childhood friend. They had practically grown up together.
Azriel reached into his pocket, pulling out a small round tin, the folder still neatly tucked under his arm as he used his car key to give himself a little bump. He rubbed his nose free of any powder, before he shoved the tin back into his pocket, he had to get back to the shop. He wasnt even on his way yet and his client was waiting already, he couldn't remember the last time he felt so flustered.
Azriel found the rest of his day to be extremely hard to focus. He thought about texting Bee, trying to make her feel better in some way because he knew she must be going absolutely out of her mind with embarrassment. He just didnt know what to say.
He did know that he couldn't get the image of her splayed out on his bed out of his head though. It was like torture, he was aching for release, shifting uncomfortably in his seat while he tried to focus on tattooing. He couldn't stop wondering what she would taste like, what it would feel like to have her underneath him.
She had gone to work when he got back, even though he had tried to finish a little early, hoping he could at least have a conversation with her. It wasnt just that he couldn't stop thinking about what she looked like naked, he was also slightly concerned about the awkwardness of the situation. The fact they lived together and saw each other every day. Was she going to avoid him now? Did he want her to avoid him for a while?
Azriel groaned quietly to himself, kicking his jeans off of his body when he was finally in bed.
Usually with this much of a pent up sexual frustration, he would have called one of his hook ups. Let them take care of it for him. But he couldn't get Bee out of his head. He was battling himself internally.
Something felt morally wrong about looking at Bee like that. It had always been his job since they'd met to look out for her. He felt like this was the opposite of looking out for her, like he was becoming the problem that he was supposed to be protecting her from. It felt like dangerous territory, but it was her lips he thought about wrapped around his cock when he pleasured himself that night.
-
a/n: hope there's no mistakes lmk i proof read this very quickly because i have to be up in 3 hours but im literally frothing at the mouth hehehe
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iamthat-iam · 7 months
Text
"Ego", The Final Boss
Olivia (she prefers to be called Liv) has been on quite the spiritual journey for a couple of years. She was born and raised Catholic, then as a teen she decided to leave the church because it didn't resonate with her. She went through a law of attraction phase, followed by law of assumption, and finally, she found non dualism from a few Twitter and Tumblr accounts.
The message, from what she gathered, was that she needed to fully drop the ego in order to realize her true self/true nature and to experience whatever she wanted. She even read a few books where realized masters have spoken about their own personal journeys of dropping ego and how life is generally more peaceful for them now that they've done so.
Now, Liv is one with a troubled past. She would give anything to become an entirely different person with no childhood trauma, and just a happy life all around. She meditated every single day, practiced "sitting in silence", and tried her hardest to detach from her "ego."
She stopped enjoying her usual hobbies out of fear of identifying too much with the character. She would go out of her way to correct thoughts that she felt were "too related to being the person." Needless to say, her mental health began to go downhill very fast.
One of her best friends, Marcus, decided to check up on her one day through face-time. "Hey sis! How have you been?! Haven't seen you in a while."
"Hey..." Liv answered. "I'm not doing all that great to be honest."
"Yeah I figured that. That's why I reached out to you," Marcus stated. "I'm worried about you. It seems like you barely leave the house. Everytime myself or anyone else tries to make plans with you, you either cancel last minute or come up with some bogus excuse as to why you can't come out."
Liv had to laugh because everything he said was true. "So I'm guessing you didn't believe the story about my pet rabbit dying."
Marcus cackled. "GIRL. I've known you for years and not once have you ever had a pet rabbit. Stop playing."
"Okay let me tell you what's really going on with me," Liv began, "So a few months ago I found this 'spiritual practice' called Non Dualism, and the premise of it is you need to 'let go of ego' in order to realize your true nature as God, or Awareness, whatever you want to call it. Also you get to experience whatever you want."
"So this is the reason why you've stopped enjoying your usual hobbies, and why you've stopped having a social life?" Marcus inquired. "I'm going to be honest here. As your friend, I feel like I owe it to you to tell you the Truth even if it isn't what you want to hear. I don't think that this 'practice' has helped you one bit. Either you have misinterpreted the message, or these people are spreading misinformation. Never at any point should you sacrifice your mental health for the sake of 'becoming enlightened.'"
"I don't know what else to do," Liv started to cry a little. "I just want to become a different person living a life full of happiness, one without trauma and constant reminders of my horrible past. I hate being this broken person!"
"It's okay hun, I totally understand," Marcus consoled her. "I can help you. You remember my family guru right? She hates being called that, but I don't know how else to refer to her. Her name is Sage. My family has gone to her for spiritual advice and healing for years."
"Yes, I remember her! Didn't she help your mom heal her lower back pain?" Liv asked excitedly.
"She sure did. I can give you her number if you want!"
After Liv ended her face-time call with Marcus, he gave her Sage's number. She immediately reached out to her to schedule a day where they can meet up.
- -
One day, Liv arrived at a beautiful park to discover Sage already sitting on one of the benches waiting. "Hi! I don't know if you remember me, I'm Marcus' friend Liv."
"Yes! Hi Liv, it's nice to see you again," Sage reached out and gave Liv a warm hug. "Now what can I help you with?"
Liv sat down next to Sage. "Well, I discovered Non dualism a few months ago, and I'm not sure if I misunderstood the message or not, but I thought you had to let go of ego in order to realize your true nature as awareness. And after you realize this, you can experience whatever you want. So long story short, I stopped enjoying life because I thought I had to do that in order to be enlightened."
Sage hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. "Think about it this way.. if it's true that our true nature is awareness, or God, whatever label you put on it, why would you have to go through these unnecessary steps in order to 'become' it? If that's what you already are in the first place?"
Liv opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Maybe Sage had a point.
"Here are my thoughts. If anyone is telling you to 'drop the ego', it's bullshit," Sage chuckled. "The point of Non Dualism is realizing that you were always awareness. You were always the awareness behind everything that seems to appear. The ever-stretching, limitless silence that can take on the form of anything. The ego is just a thought. The idea that you are not already fully realized is also just a thought. In reality, there's no ego or person here to let go of. No person here who needs to become 'fully realized.' Just drop the idea that you are a limited human that has to become something, and you'll be golden."
Liv's jaw dropped to the ground. "You're telling me it was THAT SIMPLE THIS ENTIRE TIME?"
Sage laughed heartily. "Yes it is. Why do you think it took masters like Lester or Sri Nisgardatta months or YEARS to 'realize Self?' because they spent so much time trying to get rid of an ego that doesn't exist!"
Liv let out a sigh of relief. "So there really is nothing to do. I can't believe I exerted all that effort for nothing. I do have one more question, how can I experience whatever I want knowing I'm awareness? I want to be a completely different person with a different past."
"The person you think you are now, and the one you want to be are both illusions. You, as awareness, can 'choose' either one like a costume. Everytime you think about this ideal version of you, you've already experienced it," Sage grinned.
Suddenly a wave of emotions flooded through Liv, a mixture of relief and happiness. She felt the urge to give Sage a tight hug. "Thank you so much for helping me today."
"You're so welcome, sweetie."
Good for Liv, she has finally accepted her omnipotence and freedom to experience anything!
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v3x-y0urs3lf · 2 months
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Our life N&F Soft moments with Step 3 Tamarack and Qiu
For anyone wondering before they read, There's:
one (1) Tamarack headcanons
one (1) Tamarack (short) scenario
one (1) Qiu headcanons
one (1) Qiu (short) scenario
one (1) headcanon with BOTH Qiu and Tamarack
one (1) SHORT scenario with BOTH Qiu and Tamarack.
This is me trying to makeup for the fact I haven't posted in a while and I STILL don't have my boundaries/request list uploaded and ready yet (I SWEAR I ACCEPT REQUESTS.)
This is before step 3 has been published so I'm just going off my own headcanons and theories on the characters.
Also, Qiu uses They/Them in this post BECAUSE both them (and reader) are painting nails.
You should be able to read this as either platonic or romantic, I didn’t mention ‘dates’ or any genuine romance - So knock yourselves out while reading this.
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Braiding hair!!
Whether you're a friend or a lover, I think she'd allow those close with her to braid her hair or at least use her hair as an example when braiding it. No matter how hard you accidentally pull it or if you stuff up and end up having to do it again, she just chuckles and reminds you that patience is key and that 'slow and steady win the race'.
With Miss Tamarack Baumann, time almost stops. Whether you're deep in thought and trying to keep total concentration whilst braiding her orange strands of hair or if there's light chatter amongst the two of you, Tamarack doesn't mind. It's just like how her Omi always says, "Sometimes everyone needs 5 minutes."
Maybe you have long-ish hair too? Great! Tamarack (With your permission) will braid your hair after you finish with hers! She doesn't mind French Braids, Box braids, Dutch, Micro, Cornrow, She may need a bit of assistance to learn, but better late than never!
No matter how short your hair is or what texture your hair is, her fingers work her magic and it genuinely feels like a fairytale when Tamarack is able to produce some of the best braids you’ve ever SEEN.
Miss Tamarack is just so, so sweet and gentle about it all. The moment feels so tender, with her hands gently running through your hair, complete silence for a moment before she speaks in that soft and comforting tone you've practically memorized by this point.
"Ah, Sorry." You wince as you accidentally tug a little to harshly on Tamaracks hair, gently rubbing her scalp as to (hopefully) relieve some of the pain you may have accidentally caused. The only response you get is a soft chuckle being elicited from the girl in front of you. "Good lord, MC, I'm fine. You didn't pull that hard..." Tamarack smiled, barely looking over her shoulder to look at you as you unraveled her strands of hair and started again. The two of you had been at this for a bit now, about 15 minutes or so. You both had made plans to go to the knew crepe shop opened in town and offered to help Tamarack get ready.
Tamarack tilted her head slightly and made eye contact with you from the mirror at her vanity. "I'm not fragile, y'know?" Whilst Tamarack was soft, nurturing, soft-spoken, She was anything BUT fragile.
Tamarack Baumann? The same Tamarack Baumann who used to run around and hide in piles of leaves in the woods? The SAME Tamarack Baumann who didn't mind when batter or such got on her clothes when she was baking? The same Tamarack Baumann who would just say 'they're just clothes.' when doing arts and crafts? THAT Tamarack Baumann?
"I know." You could only whisper in a quiet tone as her soft eyes met yours. She gently turned around, taking your hands into hers with a sweet smile. She no longer had her braces from when she was 14, no longer had her overwhelming insecurities or big anxieties about the world. Tamarack was content and this was enough for her to be able to live her days without too much stress.
“I’m not made of glass. I don’t need you to treat me like I’m my Omi’s fine China.” Tamarack snickered. She couldn’t help but tease you over this. Tamarack was no longer the small child or young teen with terrible insecurities. She had grown into a fine young woman and was ready to live her own life.
Whether her relationship with you was romantic or platonic, she knew she’d want you to be with her every step of the way. After all, You were her first friend in Golden Grove, She’d hate for you to not be there until the end.
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Painting nails!!
I've just had this idea in my head for so long - Painting nails with each other.
Even if you aren't trans or don't follow Qiu's whole thing with 'Pronouns correspond with nail polish', Either you can paint their nails or they'll paint your nails- Or you can do your own nails while they do their nails. It's up to you!
For anyone who doesn’t have much experience with painting nails, Qiu might give you some tips or show an example or two, but after that? They’re just going to make you eye ball it. You may not have very good hand-eye coordination, You may have shaky hands or struggle to keep attention- That doesn’t matter to Qiu!
They might tease a bit, but if you’re truly bothered or embarrassed with it all then they’ll stop. Qiu just wants to spend some time with each other, a soft moment for the two of you to bond. They don’t want to lose you because of some insensitive comment.
If you really want as well, Qiu offers to paint your nails as well. (I’m pretty sure In-game Qiu always has black nail polish… but that’s okay.) They’ll let you choose the colour and they’ll begin with what looks like innate expertise.
Genuinely. Qiu looks like a BOSS with how focused they are for this entire moment.
“And the award for best nail-painter goes to…” Qiu starts, a smile on their face as you look up from their nails to see them. They had taken off their green coat, but left everything else on, their white jumper, navy pants, and had left their bag just beside them. “Not you.” Qiu ends with a Cheshire smirk.
You can’t help but groan and sigh softly at that, taking a break to let Qiu’s nails dry for a moment. You aren’t able to tell if you groaned because you were annoyed by Qiu’s comment.. or if you secretly knew that they were right. After barely a moment of looking down at their hands again, You easily could tell that they were right.
“I know.. I’m sorry.” You sigh again, putting the brush back into the nail polish and looking at the remnants of black nail polish on the edges of Qiu’s fingertips.
Always the observant one, Qiu looks at you and immediately notices your disappointment. The habits you made when you were upset or frustrated were crystal clear to them, even if anyone else couldn’t tell. “Hey, Hey. It’s alright. I was kidding.” They immediately backpedal, trying to avoid a total meltdown.
Qiu’s eyes scan the table for something they could do, looking at the bottle of nail polish again before taking the brush and painting one of your nails. Due to the quick reaction and lack of concentration, some of the polish got onto the edges of your skin as well.
By the looks of things, they hadn’t truly thought that through and just looked at you with a softer, genuine grin. “I’m not perfect either.. So let’s just be imperfect together, okay?”
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Having a picnic!!
After talking it over, the three of you had decided a picnic would be a great idea to spend your time before summer break ended and school started up again.
Tamarack had agreed to make some food, Qiu brought some drinks and a few games for you all to play, You just had to bring the blanket and pick a spot in the park.
Luckily for you all, the weather was great. The sun was shining, a few kids were playing around in the playground, there weren’t a few clouds in the sky but they just provided some nice shade, and it was surprisingly warm for an autumn’s day, not too cold but not scolding hot either. In Tamaracks words, ‘it’s just right.’
The day didn’t seem like it could get better by this point. Tamarack had made some delicious desserts in an adorable picnic basket and Qiu had brought some delicious tea and board games for you all to play. What could possibly go wrong?
You all had been sitting there, resting on the checkered picnic blanket you and your mom had in the closet for years now. She was glad the old thing was finally getting some use.
Tamarack had her braid you had been kind enough to help her do just a few hours ago, and Qiu still had the splotchy nail polish on their fingers you had helped with a few days ago.
The sun was shining, laughter and joy shared amongst the three of you, the food Tamarack had kindly decided to bake was absolutely delicious, Qiu’s tea being a perfect mix of sweet and bitter. It felt like nothin could go wrong in this situation.
.
..
Well, apparently the small clouds in the sky has deceived you all and decided at that very moment, the clouds had decided to rain down on the three of you and cause you all to practically sprint to the all-familiar restaurant, The Diner Table.
Yusuf had graciously let you three in, despite the fact you all were practically soaked from the rain. You were given a seat at the usual booth you all used to get throughout your childhoods of coming down here together either after school or after your after-school curriculums. Even after 8 years, The Diner Table still held that ‘comfortable’ feel you had gotten when you came in as a kid.
By now, most of the food had been rained on and the tea had metaphorically and literally been spilt before the three of you had arrived at the diner.
Tamarack and Qiu were sitting in the same row, all of you glancing at each other awkwardly to just silently communicate that that was all a total fail. Though, in reality, Tamarack was the one to speak up first.
“So… Uh, good thing we’re warm now, right?” Tamarack smiled optimistically, trying to find a ‘bright side’ to look at here.
“Sure, yeah. Getting rained on, food ruined and drink gone— Oh, but at least we’re warm!” Qiu said sarcastically, it had meant to be a joke to lighten the mood.. but it seemed to have just been a bit too soon for the three of you to joke about.
Was there really a bright side to look at here? The entire day felt ruined now just because no one managed to check the weather forecast! Nothing could possibly fix this situation—
“Could I get anything started for you three?” Yusuf’s calming and gentle voice cut through the jelly-thick atmosphere, causing you all to jump slightly at the suddenness.
You all shared a glance before coming to a collective realisation. It was never about having a ‘perfect picnic’— It wasn’t about having a picnic in general! You three had just wanted to have a good time with each other, and what better place for familiarity and fun times than The Diner Table?
With a collective smile and a silent nod, you three agreed this was no better place to have a good time. You turned to Yusuf, ready to order a meal and some food. The board games were just a little damp, but they were still playable if you all were gentle enough.
Maybe this wasn’t the picnic you three had in mind.
Maybe you were all a bit silly to not check the weather forecast before going out.
.. Or maybe you were all just destined to inevitably end up in the all-familiar diner one more time.
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comma-tose · 25 days
Text
Something I noticed that I REALLY don't like is just how much current borderlands seems to be trying to diminish Rhys and Fiona's personalities and achievements.
It started out with Rhys in Borderlands 3, where Vaughn implied he was fake and that they haven't spoken in years for some reason??? Then it happened again in New Tales, where Rhys was written as incompetent, and an awful boss that fires his employees for having ONE bad idea.
It also essentially calls him a warmonger that's focused entirely on profits, and has no moral compass beyond "the almighty dollar". Going as far as to explicitly state that that is literally Atlas's motto.
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Aside from all that it also says that Atlas is essentially failing and that Rhys has absolutely no idea what he's doing, which is especially weird considering how in Borderlands 3 it's stated that Promethea is finally starting to do well for itself again, and through Echo logs you hear that even Marcus is impressed with how well Rhys is doing.
So for Rhys we have him losing connection with his best friend and being called an idiot, fake, being mischaracterised as a terrible person that apparently learnt nothing and has regressed as a person to a borderline unrecognisable state.
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And now we get to Fiona. Since borderlands 3 treats the female protagonist of Tales as if she just doesn't exist, Fiona's story continues in Debt or Alive so...
SPOILER WARNING FOR DEBT OR ALIVE.
Not only is Fiona characterised VERY strangely in the book but they also just give Sasha credit for some of what Fiona does, and Fiona alone tends to be the target of blame in the book. Oh and she gets compared to Handsome Jack for good measure.
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To start off with, Fiona doesn't even get her wish from the Vault of the Traveller. She gives it to Sasha, and Sasha wishes for a rare Vaultlander figurine of Typhon DeLeon which is destroyed a couple of chapters later. So not only does Fiona not even get to use her wish but the product of the wish gets destroyed anyway so it's entirely pointless.
Fiona also just decides to not be a vault hunter. That conversation she can have with Rhys SECONDS before this happens, about how it suits her, about how she's sad the adventure is over? It's just ignored. She immediately gives it up because she doesn't want Sasha vault hunting and getting put in danger again. Sure she still likes vault hunting but it is immediately given up. (I could write a whole other post about why this bugs me and I probably will).
Fiona has flaws that are addressed in the books, as they should be, all characters have to have flaws, but she is the only one out of the sisters to have flaws addressed. Sasha's are treated as if they don't exist, even when they're very apparent. Fiona learns to not be overprotective, and that she can't stop Sasha from doing things she wants to BUT Sasha doesn't learn anything. She does impulsive things that endanger both her and Fiona, and her risking their safety for fun or on a whim is just never mentioned. (Again something else I'll definitely talk about in another post).
Fiona is also consistently the one who comes up with the plans in the book, while Sasha is either not doing anything or suggesting they take the easy way out. Fiona is the one to start removing the debt cuffs from people while Sasha stands there bewildered, asking what she's doing. Fiona is the one to come up with the plan to scam the billionaires so that they can use the money to free everyone from debt while Sasha suggests just funding Gaige's revenge scheme (and assumedly just abandoning the people in debt??). And Fiona is the one to figure out how to get into Holloway's panic room and save everyone.
Fiona having her moments to shine would be great if they consistently didn't end with her being called an idiot, getting badly hurt, failing, or at one point being compared to Handsome Jack of all people. (Additional point: Sasha doesn't even defend her when she's compared to Jack, which is weird and very out of character.)
This might be petty but the book also gives credit to Sasha for Fiona surviving Bossanova's murder rally in Tales. Which is really weird considering Sasha and Fiona were separated during the entirety of that event. So instead of mentioning a time where Sasha actually helped save Fiona, like in the bio-dome when she was caught by Finch and Kroger, I guess they're actively retconning an event to give Sasha the credit. For some reason.
Fiona also has to confront Sasha about how she's treating Rhys, but then like a chapter later she literally apologises for all that, despite having every right to call Sasha out for that. So again Sasha's flaws are not being recognised as actual flaws and instead it's Fiona who's somehow in the wrong and Sasha learns nothing. Sure by the end of the book she considers Rhys her boyfriend but she is never the one to tell him. Fiona is, because Sasha just doesn't bother to, because it never treats her as someone who has to grow as a person. Sasha is usually either just used as a plot device to progress things or just doing almost nothing while being given credit, instead of being developed like a proper character. I'd call her a shell of what Tales Sasha was but even that feels too generous.
I used to really want to see the Tales characters in other borderlands media, but at this point I just dread it. Because why would I want to see my favourite characters being wildly mischaracterised and mistreated by the franchise?
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aesthetictarlos · 4 months
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not sure if you’re still open for little prompts but i’ve been thinking about buck and tommy having a little argument about something inconsequential before they go off to work, but then one of them gets (mildly) injured on the job. and when they get home the other helps tend to their (little) cuts and bruises. and idk there’s lots of softness and little i’m sorries and we’ll try not to leave mad again because you never know what can happen in their line of work and now we have something important to come home to, etc. 🥹
Thank you for the prompt, it took me a while but here we go ❤️ I'm not sure about this one because angst is not my thing but they're so cute together so I hope it's good enough!
Buck nearly jumps out of his skin as he hears the key turn into the lock. He's been staring at the ceiling for the past two hours or so, losing track of the time and missing the fact that Tommy's shift ended twenty minutes ago.
His stomach churns at the unfamiliarity of all this; he'd normally stand up real quick to go greet his boyfriend with a hug and a soft kiss, but today he remains on the couch, silent and tense. Waiting.
"Evan?" Tommy calls from the hallway, and Buck can picture him toeing off his shoes and throwing the keys in the bowl on the small cabinet near the door. There's a bit of uncertainty laced to his voice, and Buck hates it.
"I'm on the couch!" He says, clearing his throat, and braces himself for– he doesn't even know what.
"Hey," Tommy murmurs, padding into the living room. "Wait, why are you home already?"
Home. They've been living together for a month now, but he's still not used to hearing Tommy say it.
Buck cautiously lifts his head up to meet Tommy's eyes and something breaks in his chest as he notices how Tommy's face crumples in worry as soon as he spots the purplish bruise adorning his cheekbone and the nasty scrapes along his arm.
"What the hell happened? Fuck, Evan, are you okay?" He asks, and instantly sits next to him on the couch, reaching out to grab his chin and angle his face towards him. "And why didn't you call me?"
Tears prickle Buck's eyes as he stares at him, mouth suddenly dry. "I– I tackled a man on the asphalt. I'm fine, just a bruise and some scratches, nothing broken even if my ribs hurt a bit. That's why Bobby sent me home."
Tommy caresses his cheekbone and his gentle touch feels so good that Buck might cry. "You don't look fine. Your face is swelling, and– Why didn't you call me?"
Buck ducks his gaze and shrugs. "I didn't– I didn't know if I could call you. We– We argued this morning and we haven't spoken all day long and–"
"Oh, Evan," Tommy sighs, shaking his head. "Of course you could've called. You should have," he cuts him off softly, cupping the side of his face that's not bruised. "I don't even remember why we argued but having an argument doesn't mean that I don't care about you. Evan, I wasn't avoiding you, I had a gruelling shift and I thought you wanted some space. You– You told me–"
"That I was glad we were both on shift so we wouldn't see each other for a while," Buck supplies, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, I– I was mad. I didn't mean it. I missed you."
"Me too," Tommy whispers, bringing their foreheads together. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."
Buck collapses against him, curling his arms around his neck to pull him close. "I love you. And I'm sorry," he repeats, voice raspy.
"We can't let this happen again," Tommy says, brushing a hand up and down his back.
Buck pulls back to glance at him. "We can't," he agrees. "What about we promise each other to never leave mad again? We don't argue that much, but we both know it will happen again and–"
"And when it happens, we will find a way to clear the air before one of us has to leave for work. And I also don't want us to go to bed angry with each other," Tommy says, reaching for his hand and squeezing.
"Neither do I," Buck admits, and smiles as he holds out his pinky. "Pinky promise?"
Tommy chuckles, hooking his finger to Buck's. "Pinky promise."
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yxngbxkkie · 10 months
Text
my favorite boy (l.y.f)
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hello, hello! i'm back with the skz street racing series 🫢 they're recent dance practice video has sparked the motivation so i must thank them! i hope you like this!! 🩷
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
“Yeji, what are you doing here?” You ask her with furrowed brows, opening your apartment door wider.
She gives you a pout and crosses her arms over her chest. “You haven't been answering my messages.”
“I'm sorry,” you apologize, dropping your gaze to the carpet. A sigh leaves your lips, and you invite your friend into the apartment. “It's been a little bit of a wild ride.”
You close the door after Yeji walks in, turning to face her. “What's been going on? I tried calling Eun-woo, but he's not answering me either,” she mentions, taking a step forward to grab your hand.
“He won't answer you because he dumped me,” you say after a minute of silence. You clear your throat afterward, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling.
“What!?” Yeji practically yells, causing you to jump. She quickly apologizes and brings you into a hug. “I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me?”
You keep quiet, trying not to let yourself think about how it went down again. You rest your forehead on her shoulder, taking deep breaths as she rubs your back.
“It was pretty messy,” you mumble while pulling back from her. “So, I've been distracting myself from thinking about it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I haven't really spoken to anyone since it happened.”
Yeji frowns at you, wiping the stray tears off your cheeks. “Well, I'm here now,” she tries to get you to smile, gently pinching your cheek. “Come with me tonight.”
“Yeji,” you sigh, not really in the mood to go out. “I don't want to go out to some bar.”
She chuckles, and she shakes her head at you. “I'm not going to a bar! I'm meeting Chan and one of his friends. You should come,” she nudges your arm.
“Oh, I don't know. I'm kind of a hot mess currently,” you mention while rubbing the back of your neck.
“You look beautiful, honey,” she reassures you before swiftly moving further into your apartment.
You watch as she heads into your room, grabbing a hoodie from your bed. She tosses the article of clothing at you before ushering you towards your shoe closet.
“We won't be out for too long. Come and relax with us,” she pets your hair, wanting you to get out of your apartment.
You fumble with the hoodie in your hands, thinking over her offer. I guess it'd be wise to get some air. You think to yourself and throw the hoodie on.
“I'll go,” you give in, slipping your arms into the hoodie sleeves. The warmth of it makes you smile a little before you move to get a pair of shoes.
Yeji squeals and claps her hands. A giggle leaves your lips as you quickly slip on the shoes you chose. The two of you walk out of your apartment building together, arms linked.
The car ride lasts almost half an hour, and you furrow your brows as Yeji pulls into a parking lot loaded with cars. “Where are we?” You ask her, glancing towards the younger girl.
“Chan's racing tonight. Come on,” she mentions, parking the vehicle before getting out.
You're so confused as you slowly unbuckle your seatbelt. You open the passenger door, watching Yejj run up to Chan. You look away from them, still feeling burned from your failed relationship.
You shut the door and begin to aimlessly walk around. You didn't know people were street racing here. “Isn't it illegal?” You ask yourself quietly, not wanting others to hear.
Your eyes come across a navy blue sports car, finding so much beauty in the color. You find yourself walking towards the vehicle, not noticing the blonde sitting on the hood of it.
“Wow,” you mumble to yourself, admiring the bodywork. The light blue neon underneath makes it look prettier, too.
“She's a beauty, right?” A deep voice startles you, snapping you from your thoughts.
You stand up straight and glance towards the voice. You blush at the man's beauty, noticing the freckles decorating his cheeks. “Y-Yeah, she is,” you stumble over your words, tearing your gaze away.
The blonde holds his hand out and introduces himself to you. “I'm Felix,” he says with a smile.
“Hi, Felix,” you giggle, shaking his hand. “I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you.”
“Do you race?” He asks you while leaning against his vehicle again.
Your eyes widen, and you start shaking your head. “Oh, no, no. I came with a friend of mine,” you tell him shyly, tucking some hair behind your ear.
Felix lets out a quiet, “ah,” while nodding his head. “Who's your friend?” He questions while looking around the group of people.
You follow his gaze to the semi-large crows, seeing Yeji and Chan cuddled with one another on the hood of his vehicle. You provide a bittersweet smile and point in their direction.
“I came with Yeji. She's with her boyfriend over there,” you inform him.
“Oh! You're the friend she's mentioned?!” He asks you, a large grin on his plump lips. Your eyes widen, not realizing that Yeji's talked about you to this gorgeous gorgeous man.
You look away from him, feeling shy under his gaze. “I-I guess so, yeah,” you chuckle nervously.
He smiles at you and motions for you to follow him, leading you towards your friend. “She never mentioned that you're so pretty,” Felix giggles, bringing a hand to his neck.
“Me? Felix, you're so breathtaking compared to me,” you let the compliment slip, keeping your eyes on the ground.
His cheeks blush at your words, shoving both of his hands into his pockets. “Breathtaking? I wouldn't go that far,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear.
You lift your head and stop moving. Felix notices instantly and stops as well, moving to stand directly in front of you. “You don't think you're breathtaking?” You ask him in disbelief.
“Uh, n-no, I don't,” he says shyly, and you watch him press two fingers against his pulse point.
You reach into the pocket of your hoodie and take your phone out. You open your camera app and take a photo of him. Felix doesn't have time to question you as you immediately show him the result of it.
“Look at yourself. You're so fucking gorgeous that I find it hard to believe you're real,” you begin to ramble, turning the phone back to you and admire his features.
“I- Uhm, th-thank you. I still think you're really pretty,” he shifts the compliment back to you, smiling softly.
You gently bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling wide. “Y/N!” Yeji calls out your name, causing you to whip your head towards her. She and Chan both walk over to the two of you, a smirk on her lips. “I see you've already met Felix.”
“Yeah,” you clear your throat, taking a quick glance towards the blonde. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Yeji nods her head, mumbling something to Chan before kissing his cheek. You grab her wrist afterward, dragging her away from the two men.
“So, what do we think of Felix?” Your friend asks, wiggling her brows.
You stand about fifteen feet away from them before meeting her eyes. “What are you doing exactly? Felix mentioned that you've told him about me,” you question her, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I just want you to be happy! Plus, I didn't tell him about you to hook the two of you up,” she explains, glancing over her shoulder. “You were still with… at the time I told him about you.”
You press your lips together, feeling a lump forming in your throat. Memories of your relationship start playing in your mind, and you can feel the tears beginning to build up.
“I want to go home,” you whisper to her, not feeling like being out anymore.
Yeji frowns, reaching out to grab ahold of your hands. “I'm sorry for bringing it up. I just wanted to reassure you that I wasn't trying to hook you up,” she apologizes, shaking your conjoined hands.
“It's fine,” you mumble, releasing one of her hands to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I'd still like to go home.”
She releases a sigh and nods her head. “I'll bring you home. Let's just say goodbye first, okay?” She offers, starting to walk back towards her boyfriend and his friend.
You re-cross your arms, trying to distract yourself from your mind. “Everything okay?” Chan asks as soon as the two of you reach them.
“Yeah. Y/N's not feeling well, so I'm going to bring them home. I should be back in time for the race,” Yeji mentions, standing on her toes to quickly kiss his lips.
You can feel Felix's eyes on you as you stand in silence, afraid your voice might show the emotion you're feeling.
“It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” Felix says with a kind smile.
Your heart flutters in your chest at the softness in his voice. You nod your head, giving him a fake smile. “It was nice meeting you too, Felix,” you whisper to him.
“You're gonna be okay?” He asks, noticing the change in your mood.
“I'll be okay,” you reassure him.
He smiles at you, reaching into his pocket. Felix pulls his phone out and quickly hands it to you. Your lips part in surprise as you slowly take the device. You didn't expect him to want your number, and you can't help but blush.
You input your number, giving yourself a cute name before handing it back to him. He smiles upon reading it, flicking his eyes towards you.
“I'll text you right now so you have my number,” he says while typing out a message.
You feel your phone vibrate inside your pocket, pulling it out before tapping his notification. You giggle at his message and save his number, setting the photo you took of him as well.
“Ready, Y/N?” Yeji asks you, gently resting her hand on your forearm.
You nod your head yes and wave goodbye to Chan, then Felix. Both of them bid the two of you goodbye before you walk back towards Yeji's vehicle.
Once you're in the vehicle, Yeji decides to speak up. “You looked really happy talking to Felix,” she points out, causing you to groan. She raises her hands in defense for a few seconds before turning on her vehicle. “I'm just saying.”
She starts to drive back to your apartment building as you think about what she said. It's been a couple of weeks since you've smiled, and he seemed to make you smile so easily.
“He's really nice,” you tell her while fiddling with your fingers.
“He is,” she agrees, patting your leg.
You look out the window of her car, playing your interaction with him over and over. The smile on your lips widens, and you release a deep breath through your nose.
He's really cute…
You and Felix have been texting one another for a few weeks. You've met up for coffee a few times, and you finally found the courage to tell him the reason you left when you first met.
He's been really sweet to you, causing you to fall for him pretty quickly. You also think he's falling for you, too. The two of you have been flirting more and more, and a part of you hopes he asks you out soon.
You swiftly make your way down the street, hearing the loud sounds of people's sports cars. It's your first time attending a street race without Yeji, especially since Chan isn't racing tonight. But Felix is, and he cutely asked you to come support him. How could you say no.
You shove your hands into your pockets, shivering a bit as the weather starts to get cold. You finally reach the parking lot everyone's parked in, immediately looking around for Felix.
“Y/N!” Felix calls out your name, making you halt your steps. You turn around to see the blonde running up to you, a bright smile on his pink lips. “Hey! I'm glad you made it.”
He wraps you in a hug, one of his hands rubbing your back. You wrap your arms around his neck, dipping your fingers into his hair. “Of course I made it. Gotta support my favorite boy,” you giggle while pulling back.
Felix's cheeks blush as he drapes an arm over your shoulder. You wrap your arm around his waist, the two of you walking over to his vehicle. “I'm your favorite boy?” He asks, giggling.
“Yes, of course,” you chuckle, leaning into his side.
As soon as you make it to his car, you find yourself sitting on the hood. Felix stands in between your legs, his small hands finding a place on your hips.
“Well, you're my favorite girl,” he grins, tilting his head a bit.
“Oh, I am?” You ask him, gently biting your lip.
Felix nods his head while rubbing your hips. You smile at him as his gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. Your heart starts to pound against your chest.
“I really want to kiss you,” he whispers before releasing a sigh.
Your breath hitches in your throat, and you move your hands up his torso. “Good luck kiss?” You mention after hearing someone announce that the race will start in five minutes.
The blonde's eyes widen at your words, his hands squeezing your hips. “Please?” Felix silently pleads, his face getting closer and closer to yours.
You bring your hands to his cheeks, slowly stroking them before closing the space between you. Your eyes flutter shut when his lips connect with yours. Wow, they're so soft.
Felix deepens the kiss quickly, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer. A quiet moan slips past your lips as you tilt your head to the side.
“I like you so much,” he sighs after pulling away, resting his forehead on yours.
Your thumbs stroke his freckled cheeks as you keep your eyes closed. “I like you too, Felix. You've… you've made me so happy the past few weeks,” you confess to him, nudging your nose with his.
Felix pulls back and drags his thumb along your lower lip. “After I win the race, would you want to grab a midnight snack with me?” He asks you out, removing his thumb to land a quick kiss on your lips.
“After you win, hm?” You ask with a chuckle, smirking at the man. “Someone's a little cocky.”
“Well, you just gave me some good luck kisses,” he mentions with a smirk.
You lick your lips and look away from him, giggles coming from you. “You're lucky you're cute, Felix,” you tell him, your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much. “But, I'd love to grab a midnight snack after you win.”
He squeezes your hip in excitement, kissing you once more before helping you off of the hood. “Wait for me at the finish line. I'll see you there!”
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @luckieleaf @stayconnecteed @tiaxa @yoonrimin @sunny-future @daysofskz-ateez @endzii23 @sweetbutpsychovalkyrie @bunnies-only @sleepyleeji @hhwangsmoon @emily505 @backintomykpopphaseagain
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college!ari + elevator
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Want you to want me
Pairing: college!Ari Levinson x female!reader
Summary: Ari really likes you but doesn't know how to ask you out.
Warnings: super fluffy, Ari is a shy beefy boy and should be protected always! This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.
Authors note: feels like I haven't written in soooo long! I've had this in the pipeline for a while but just needed the muse to cooperate ✨ this sits in the same universe as our lovely college!Andy and will most likely have more parts 🩷 (word count: 1.2k)
"Just ask her out."
Ari turns his gaze at the sound of his friends voice, already missing having you in his line of sight.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ari grumbles, fiddling with the pages of the book he's been pretending to study from for the past hour. If only he could pull his gaze away from you.
Andy let's out a chuckle, "she's cool, she's nice and she likes you, just go over there and ask her out."
Ari sighs as he looks over to you again. You're talking animatedly to someone from your class and Ari can't help the soft smile that graces his face as he watches you.
It's not like he hasn't spoken to you before, you both had a similar group of friends and you shared a couple of classes. It was the fact that every time he spoke to you he'd get all flustered and tongue-tied and you'd give him a smile that both calmed and tortured him.
"It's not that simple, man," Ari huffs, pulling his eyes away from you again.
"Sure it is, just go over there and ask her out."
Ari stares at him, "I can't just go over there and ask her out."
"Sure you can!"
Ari sighs, dropping his head as he thinks it over. He wants to ask you out, god he really wants to. But what if you say no? It's not like you'd laugh in his face or anything, you're not like that. But you're friends and what if that's all you see him as?
"Is that how you got your girl? You just asked her out and it all worked out fine?"
Andy smiles as he looks at his friend, his dumb, clueless friend.
"Well I tutored her for a while and then we fucked in that room over there," Andy grins, gesturing to one of the study rooms.
Ari stares at him wide eyed, "so you didn't even take her on a date?!"
"Christ you're old fashioned," Andy laughs, "I took her on a date after. When two people want each other you don't have to stick to a timeline, dude."
Ari can feel his cheeks warm up, he wasn't a prude or anything but he was raised by a single mother who instilled chivalry in him. And he liked you too much to risk doing anything stupid. He wanted, no needed, you to like him - in whatever capacity you were willing to give.
"I just want her to like me," he mumbles quietly, almost hoping Andy doesn't hear.
"Pretty sure she already does, man. And right now she's coming over here and I would put money on it being to talk to you and not me."
Ari's head whips up and he catches your eye as you reach their table. You flash him a sweet smile and Ari swears he loses the ability to think.
"Hey beefcake," you grin as you come to stand in front of him.
Beefcake.
That name, and the way you say it, has lived rent free in his head ever since the first time you called him it.
You'd been drunk at one of Andy's parties and to say you had two left feet would be an understatement. Ari had arrived late after working a double shift at the garage and honestly all he wanted to do was go to bed, but as soon as he saw you dancing and stumbling he knew he could stay for just one.
You caught his eye from across the room and he swears the smile you sent him could light up a whole town. He didn't know why you were so happy to see him but in your excitement and inebriated state you tripped over the leg of a table. You would have fallen flat on your face if it wasn't for Ari's quick reactions and strong arms.
He caught you with ease. His arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you up like you weighed nothing.
The giggle you let out has played on repeat in Ari's mind ever since. Your small hands resting over his biceps, giving them a squeeze and giggling even more.
"So strong," you giggled, "so beefy."
"How much have you had to drink?" Ari mused, unable to hold back the smile as he looked down at you.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest as you peered up at him pouring, "only a little. Thank you for catching me, beefcake."
Ari's brows lift as you descend into another fit of giggles. With your chin against his chest he just prays that you can't hear his heart thudding.
"Beefcake, really?"
"I think it suits you," you beamed.
And well, who was Ari to disagree.
Andy's voice snaps Ari back to the present.
"So, are you coming to the Halloween party on Friday?"
Ari feels his cheeks heating up, wondering how long he was staring at you before his friend jumped in. Looking anywhere but you, Ari just wishes the ground would swallow him whole.
"I don't know yet," you say, Ari's eyes flicking to you at the sound of your voice, surprised to see you're already looking at him, "are you going, beefcake?"
Ari stutters as he tries to form a coherent thought, "me? I, um, yeah I think so, maybe?"
Ari can see Andy smirking out the corner of his eye and wishes he could whack him in the face with his text book.
"Well I hope you decide to," you smile, biting your lip slightly and Ari feels his chest constrict, "who's going to catch me when I fall otherwise?"
Ari laughs and he swears your eyes get brighter, "well in that case I might make an appearance."
"Look forward to it," you wink, "well it was lovely seeing you boys. I'll see you in class Ari."
You send them a final smile before turning and heading to the elevator.
Ari's eyes remain on you until Andy throws a pen at his head.
"Dude, what the hell?"
"Ari, seriously go fucking ask her to the party! She clearly wants you to go."
"What? No, she was just being nice, making conversation," Ari tries to brush off, his eyes connecting with yours before you quickly turn away and step into the elevator.
"I swear to god, go ask her now or I will set her up with Steve!"
Ari shoots daggers at Andy before he's up and out of his chair and rushing towards the elevator. His brain doesn't catch up with his body until he's squeezed himself through the closing doors and is stood face to face with you.
"You okay there, beefcake?" You chuckle, taking in his rosy cheeks and the way his huge chest heaves under his shirt.
"Um, about Friday, err Halloween, I um, was wondering..." He trails off, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but your eyes.
"I'd love to go with you," you smile softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
Ari's face splits into the widest grin as he breathes out, "really?"
You let out a soft laugh as the elevator doors open on your floor, "really."
Leaning up onto your tip toes you place a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning on your heel and walking away.
"Make sure you wear something pretty, beefcake," you sing over your shoulder. Sneaking a quick glance back at your favourite shy, beefy boy before the doors close. You see him smiling and touching his cheek and you know you're already in too deep.
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Aw I'm so happy to finally share this! My college boy universe is expanding and we have Ari in the club! As always comments and reblogs are super appreciated 🩷 also please send me thots for more college!Ari ✨
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pablitogavii · 1 year
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HII I love your writing can i pls request that they had an argument and reader is giving him silent treatment while he just kept saying ssry
Sorry
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"Amor please talk to me again.." Pablo was nuzzling his face into your neck but you were still focusing on your book ignoring anything he was saying.
He promised to come home early tonight because you wanted to make dinner and tell him happy news about getting accepted into medical school of your dreams but he went with his friends instead.
"I know I messed up amorcito..they wanted me to drive them and I should have said no" Pablo tried explaining himself but to you it all sounded like excuses. You just got up and walked away to the kitchen heating yourself a meal while he followed you like a lost puppy.
Pablo didn't even wanted to go but since younger players were begging him for a ride, he didn't know how to say 'no' which he really needs to work on.
He sighed grabbing his keys and driving to the nearby florist really wanting to properly apologize for canceling on you last minute. He bought the biggest bouquet that was left and came back home to you.
"Amor? Can I come in??" he knocked on the bathroom door peeking through where you stood brushing your hair in front of the mirror. You turned around to face him doing your best not to smile and blush to his little attempts to apologize.
"These are for you..I'm really sorry princesa" he gave you the bouquet which you took without a word smelling it and walking towards the kitchen. He followed after you again glad that you were at least taking his gift and putting it into the vase on the table.
"Do you like them? They only had roses, and I know you like orchids more..but um..I can get them in the morning" he was mumbling really not knowing what else to do to make you talk to him again.
'They're pretty. " you said simply walking into the bedroom without a smile or anything else but he was glad that you were at least talking to him again. He knew he needs to work for it when he messed up badly.
He came into the room getting dressed for bed and joining you sad that you were laying all the way on your side of the bed. Book was in your hands again and he desperately wanted to toss it to the side and pull you on top of himself.
"Can we cuddle amor? I missed you.." he said but you were in no mood for his sweet talking right now. It wasn't just that he canceled but you wanted to tell him this badly. It made you so proud to have been accepted on the first try.
"I wanted to cuddle three hours ago.." you said flipping the page even though you haven't read a single word acting like you didn't care at all which was obviously a lie.
"I know I'm a cabrón, amor! I said I'm sorry..can we just be okay now??" he moved closer nuzzling his head into your neck and leaving wet kisses all over your skin.
"Stop! I'm reading Pablo" you acted all annoyed with his behavior although feeling his kisses and touches was all you wanted right now.
Pablo had enough grabbing you book despite your whining and putting it onto his own night table so you can reach it again. You crossed your hands in front of your chest which he found adorable while moving closer to you on the bed.
"Oh come on preciosa..come give your Pablito a kiss..he's really sorry for making you mad at him, you know? Really..really..sorry..princesa" he left a small kiss on your cheeks after every word spoken.
It was so hard for you not to kiss him right now but you were still obviously mad at him. Struggle was deifiantelly real right now.
"It's just one kiss..nothing else vale?" you look at him and he smiled nodding his head as you moved closer pecking his lips about to move away but he grabbed your face deepening the kiss.
"You're not playing fair.." you sigh when you pulled away from each other and he smirks playing with your hair and pulling you closer to himself as you laid on his strong and fit naked chest.
"I'm really sorry amore mio..you're my priority, siempre. I never wanted to make you feel like any less" he spoke sincerely and you stopped being mad anymore realizing that he was truly sorry about what happened tonight.
"Hm..the roses were so pretty..cariño. Thank..you" you whispered blushing a little that he would go out in the middle of the night to buy you roses just to have you talk to him again.
"You're welcome mi amor. Anything for mi princesa linda." he said and you raised your head from his chest smiling and leaning in to kiss his lips again which he gladly welcomed.
"What is it you wanted to tell me huh? You have my undying attention right now" he said holding your chin after you pulled away from the kiss and you smiled wide.
"I got into medical school cariño!!" you said and his eyes went wide as he flipped you over getting on top of you in excitement.
"I knew it princesa! You're the smartest girl I know and I am so proud of you mi doctora!!" he was kissing you all over while you giggled in his arms feeling the happiest right now.
Short but sweet! I Hope you like it :))
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