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#if I'm ever in the wrong place at the wrong time I hope someone has the kindness to put me in a cup
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Hi
It's been brought to my attention that there are people out there who are sadly plagiarising my work again.
1. This is not okay.
To clarify, while I'm very happy for people to take inspiration from my stories (in the same way you might any book you read from a bookshop), I don't want my work used or reposted without credit.
I'm not going to go into lengths on why it is wrong to plagiarise someone else's writing. I don't think my tumblr post is magically going to change anyone's mind, especially as if you've followed me long enough you know we've done this rodeo before.
So.
2. How to tell when writing is plagiarised
It can be very difficult to tell when something is plagiarised, especially if we have never come across the original work before and have no reason to recognise it.
I don't think it's realistic for everyone to vet everything they come across online for plagiarism, but it's also something I don't see talked about a lot for fiction.
These questions to ask yourself are not foolproof and not applicable to everything. But I think they can be a start.
If the writer has posted more than one story, is there a similarity across them? While writing style can change across an author's different pieces, there is still usually going to be a similar feel across stories if they came from the same person. Writers have voices and quirks and little things that are specific to them. If every piece feels wildly different then it might be coming from different places. This is probably going to come down to gut reaction and instinct in the first instance. But that's okay. Because that gut reaction is just there to make you think twice and maybe investigate more thoroughly.
How much are they posting? Can people churn an extraordinary amount of words out? Yes, sometimes. But...as a general ballpark, no. Writing takes time and effort. If someone is coming out with enormous amounts of writing every day or week or month or whatever, then this can be a hint to look a little closer.
Do you ever see hints of their writing process? Can the writer talk about their characters or what they want out of the story or anything like that? Do they ever post a story organically in response to a request or whatever? Not all writers know in-depth everything about their story or characters or plot, but the main point here is that the finished product is the tip of the iceberg. If someone is a writer than there is more going on beneath the surface of the posted stories.
I hope this helps!
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vodika-vibes · 1 day
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Hi, I’ve been having a really difficult time as of lately. My depression has been hitting really hard which is feeding into my low self esteem then goes to my eating disorder. I’ve almost completely lost my appetite, and haven’t been getting much sleep either. I honestly feel so close to relapsing back into S/H. I’m sorry for dumping all this on you, but I was wondering if you could please write something to help?
Echo is my favorite member of The Bad Batch, and if you could, could you write something where Echo’s S/O (gender neutral please) is going through what I’m feeling, and Echo comforts and helps them the best he can? Could you also write it to have a happy ending please? I know I’m asking for a lot, so I understand if you don’t feel comfortable writing this, but it would be greatly appreciated if you do.
You're Worth It
Summary: When your depression hits you hard, Echo takes care of you.
Pairing: TBB Echo x GN!Reader
Word Count: 861
Warnings: Reader is very depressed
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: I'm sorry that things are so hard for you right now. I hope this little story offers you some comfort. Just please know, there's no shame in reaching out for help if you need it. And know that I truly believe that the world is a better place with you in it.
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Echo’s worried about you.
You’ve been...not ignoring him. Not quite. But you have turned down the last three dates that he’s asked you one.
So he worries.
You can hear it in his voice when he calls, and while you feel guilty about it, it’s a distant kind of guilt. Like it’s happening to someone else.
It’s been ages since your depression has hit you this hard. To where you can barely look at yourself in the mirror. To where you have no appetite.
It’s not healthy, or safe. You know this. You know that you need to eat.
But you’re just not hungry.
At least you’ve managed to pull yourself out of bed. Of course, all you’ve managed to do is move across the room to settle in the alcove in your bedroom. You lean your head against the warm window, looking out the window but not seeing anything on the other side.
There are so many things that you should do.
Laundry that’s piled up. The bedsheets need to be replaced with a clean pair. Not to mention the regular cleaning that you need to catch up on to keep your home habitable.
But you have no strength or, honestly, the will to do any of it.
You pull your head away from the window as you hear your bedroom door creak open and heavy, but familiar, steps on the wooden floor of your bedroom.
“Found you,” Echo’s voice is light, and you turn to look at him as he settles on the cushion near your feet. His gaze is dark as he scans your face, and then he clicks his tongue lightly, before he reaches out and cups your cheek with his warm hand, “Having a rough time, cyare?”
You grimace, “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He rubs soothing circles against your cheek, and you release a quiet sigh as you lean into his touch, your eyes sliding shut.
Echo shifts so that he’s sitting properly in the alcove and gently eases you into his arms.
Your Echo isn’t a gentle man, generally.
Oh, he’d never hurt you, never ever. But he tends to make his touch firm, like he’s trying to remind himself that he’s there and that you’re not going to slip through his fingers like smoke.
But today. Today he’s gentle.
So gentle, as if he is handling already broken glass.
The thought makes you want to cry, so you press your forehead against his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut.
His hand runs down your spine soothingly, “It’s going to be okay.” He says quietly.
Your hands curl into the material of his shirt, “You can’t know that.” You counter.
“I do know that,” He counters as he presses a light kiss to the top of your head, “I know that because you have me, and I’ll make everything better.”
“I don’t think it works that way.” You mumble.
“Maybe not, but I am going to help you through it. That’s what partners are for.”
You sigh softly and rub your forehead against the soft material of his before you pull back and flash him the weakest smile, “I don’t deserve you.”
“That’s not accurate.” Echo says easily, “You deserve everything and then some.” He brushes his thumb across your lips, “This is just your brain lying to you.” Echo’s smile is soft, “I will always choose you. No matter what.”
“You’re going to make me cry.” You mumble as you reach out to press your hands against his cheeks.
Echo chuckles, “Sorry, sorry.” He presses his hand over yours, his smile soft and warm. “I know everything is hard right now, but how do you feel about sitting outside with me?”
You twist your lips at the thought.
“We don’t have to do anything,” He murmurs, “Just sit outside together.”
You consider his words for a long moment, and then you nod slowly, “Yeah,” You finally reply, “I think I can do that.” You pause, “I should probably shower-”
“Only if you want.” Echo reassures.
You stare at him for a moment, “You really are the best, you know that.”
“I try,” He says with a grin. Echo brings your hand to his lips and presses a light kiss against the pads of your fingers, “If I made you something light to eat, will you try and eat it for me?”
“I’m really not hungry.” You admit.
“I know, cyare. It’ll be something really small, really light. Just to get something in your stomach.” Echo offers, “And if you can’t eat it, then I will.”
You sigh one more time, and then nod. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
You know Echo loves you. Even when you’re feeling your lowest, you’ve never doubted how he feels about you. And even now, when you can barely look at yourself, you know that he still adores you.
And while things are rough right now, and you care barely see the light at the end of the tunnel, you’re not worried about losing yourself. Because Echo will be right there to guide you back home.
That’s what it means to love someone, after all.
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fxllfaiiry · 11 months
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❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me
★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.
★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.
★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet
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Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.
You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 
He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 
Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 
“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 
“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 
“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 
“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully
“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 
“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 
This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 
He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.
He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.
He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 
Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 
He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.
Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 
In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.
He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.
But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 
He slept like a baby that night. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 
“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 
“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 
“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 
He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  
Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 
“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 
“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”
“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 
“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”
“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 
You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.
“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 
“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 
“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 
You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  
“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 
You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 
Positive. You were pregnant. 
“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 
“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 
“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 
“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 
“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 
“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 
“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.
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cupid-styles · 6 months
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only angel (tattoo artist/plug harry)
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in which harry owns a tattoo shop, sells weed on the side, and has a big crush on y/n, a shy virgin who's very much enamored by him.
here is part one of tattoo/plug harry!!! I hope you like it :) please lmk if you'd like more from them <3
word count: 10.2k (!!!!)
content warnings: y/n's parents being unkind people, comments and discussions about weight/disordered eating, fainting (caused by a piercing), smut! (y/n's first time being fingered, dirty talk, harry being a soft dom)
masterlist | talk to me
part two
. . .
Y/N doesn't know why she's here.
If the glares from the employees of the tattoo and piercing shop are anything to go off of, they don't know why she's here either. And it all makes this whole thing even more embarrassing.
In reality, she does have a reason to be here. Mai, one of the few friends she's made in her grad school program, asked if she would drive her down to The Village for a tattoo appointment she had.
Y/N's eyes nearly bulged out of her skull when she asked, especially when she pressed for more details about this tattoo she was getting (it was a strawberry just above her hip, which Y/N didn't quite understand considering she thought tattoos were supposed to be meaningful). But, ever the pushover, Mai ended up convincing her, going as far as getting her to come inside — the one boundary she had — and wait while she got it done.
(Thankfully, her parents had some benefit charity thing going on today, so they weren't concerned with Y/N's whereabouts or where she was taking the car they bought her on a Saturday afternoon.)
The shop, called St. Mark's Place Social Club (aptly named, she supposes, considering it's located on St. Mark's Place), is nice. Unlike what she imagined tattoo parlors would look like in her brain, the spot Mai chose to get tattooed at seems sanitary and actually quite trendy.
It's not wildly crowded with customers hustling and bustling around, but there's a few artists at work at their own small stations. The walls are painted a cozy forest green, all donning frames upon frames of, what Y/N assumes are, sheets of tattoo designs. The receptionist who checked Mai in even offered them some water, which Y/N thinks was very nice.
"Are you nervous at all?" Y/N asks quietly as they sit in the rattan chairs in the waiting area. Mai's filling out some questionnaire on an iPad, but she shakes her head at her question, crossing her legs. 
"No, not really," she murmurs nonchalantly, "I have a few tattoos already and I've been here before. The artist that's doing it is really cool and he's so hot."
Y/N's mouth forms around an oh as Mai quickly taps her signature into the tablet. She stands from the rickety chair and walks back over to return it to the front, her heeled boots clacking against the wood floor as she does. 
Y/N has her gaze set low in her lap, eyes passing over her fresh manicure (her mother has a standing weekly appointment for her). She doesn't even notice that someone's standing over her — more so, towering over her — until the figure clears his throat, her head snapping up to address them. Assuming she's done something wrong (what it is, she isn't sure), she goes to apologize immediately, but the long haired man in front of her cuts her off.
"You have an appointment?" 
Instantly, she flounders. Her mouth drops open as she stumbles over an answer: "I— um, no, I'm not— no, no appointment."
"So you're a walk-in, then?"
"N-no," she shakes her head quickly, his all-black outfit forming a blur in front of her eyes, "No, I'm not getting a tattoo."
The man laughs. He actually laughs at her, and Y/N doesn't know whether she should be embarrassed or pleased that she's made this very attractive man smile.
"You're sitting in a tattoo shop. You know that, right?" the stranger crosses his heavily tattooed arms over his chest, and Y/N's eyes fly to the swirls of black ink covering his skin. They're everywhere; all different fonts and images and numbers and... she wonders if he even knows what they all mean or how many he has. 
"Yes," she finally manages out, folding her hands neatly in her lap. It's the default body language she goes to when she's nervous — when she was a teenager, her parents paid for her to go to social etiquette classes, and the instructor told her that this was a good way to show that she was in control of her actions, even if underneath her pastel pink turtleneck, her chest was covered in hives. "No, I'm not getting a tattoo. I'm here with someone getting one."
Thankfully (though Y/N would've preferred it happening about two minutes earlier), Mai walks back over to them, a grin taking over her features when she spots the man talking to her.
"Harry!" she greets excitedly, and Y/N watches as his eyes flicker over to her, flashing a tight smile in her direction.
"Ah. This is who you're here with." he — Harry, apparently — says to Y/N. She doesn't know what she's supposed to say to that (if she's supposed to say anything), but any response is once again cut off. "Hey. You ready?"
She only now notices the gum wedged between his teeth, his jaw moving in a hypnotizing way. His tone appears to be far more clipped with Mai, but Y/N is fast to chalk it up to some fluke. Maybe the other employees mentioned something to Harry and they thought she was in the wrong place or something. That would make sense, she thinks.
"Yeah, all good. I'll see you in a bit, Y/N," Mai nods, swinging her bag over her shoulder, focusing her attention to Harry, "So listen, I'm going to a show in midtown tonight, I was thinking maybe after we finish up here we can—"
"Are you coming back with us?" Harry's eyes fall back onto Y/N, and it's only then that she realizes he's talking to her again.
"Uh... am I allowed to?"
He smirks. Y/N's chest feels like it may concave in simply from the sight.
"I own this place, so yeah, you're allowed to."
Mai's tapping her foot impatiently now, her hip popped out slightly with her arms crossed over her chest. "My appointment started a few minutes ago, Harry—"
"Okay," he says curtly, turning on his heel to face her, "Go in the back and get ready then. You know where my station is."
Both Mai's and Y/N's jaws drop at that, his snappy tone clearly not one to fight back on. Surprisingly, Mai does just that, turning around and walking back to where Harry has his things set up. 
"You coming, then? Y/N, right?" 
The teasing smirk is still painted over his features, as if he finds humor in outwardly rejecting Mai's advances. Y/N doesn't know why her heart beats a little bit faster at that, warmth spreading from her chest to the rest of her body as he continues gazing down at her.
"Y-yeah," she answers, grabbing her purse and standing up. "If it's not too big of a deal."
"Course not. C'mon, you can follow me."
. . .
Mai's tattoo comes out beautiful.
However, Y/N can hardly focus on the artistry and apparent talent because she's far too busy staring at Harry, who also looks beautiful while he works.
It's distracting, embarrassingly so, that she barely even registers when he's finished wrapping her new tattoo in some sort of clear wrap, sending her back up to pay. Quickly, Y/N scrambles to grab her things, realizing that she's once again left alone with Harry.
"What, running away so soon?" He asks as he cleans up his work station, spinning around to face her in his chair. He has that smirk on his face again — the one that simultaneously intimidates her and makes her entire body burst into flames — and anxiety begins to eat away at her, nervous of saying the wrong thing.
"I just— you're done. So I was gonna go."
"How do you know Mai?" 
It bothers her somewhat that he ignores her, but being the subject of his intense glint, she shifts her stance from foot to foot, shrugging her shoulders.
"We're in the same grad program. We've had a few classes together." she answers obediently, clutching the strap of her purse closer to her shoulder. 
"Mm," he hums, tossing some paper towels in the trash, "You sure you didn't want any tattoos today?"
Y/N's face erupts into a hot flush for the thousandth time today and she instantly begins to shake her head. "No. No, thank you, I mean. My parents would kill me."
"Your parents?" Harry asks, a slightly stupefied expression on his face. "You're in grad school. Surely you don't make decisions on your appearance based off of them."
He punctuates his sentence by giving her a once-over and she feels nervous under his gaze. She's never particularly felt good about her appearance. She's always just felt... neutral. She grew up with a mother who was constantly dieting, imparting weight loss tips on her every chance she got. When Y/N hit puberty, her father made comments about how grateful he was to finally see her drop the "baby weight". Even now, her mother critiqued her, making comments about how important it was to maintain a good figure; that she'd never find someone to spend her life with if she didn't take care of her looks.
So, all in all, it was safe to say that tattoos were extremely off the table for Y/N. 
"It's complicated," she finally replies vaguely. She knows that most people in their mid-20s aren't as deep under the thumb of their parents as she is, but she wasn't lying when she said this — the circumstances weren't as black and white as she wished they were.
However, there was something she'd always been curious about, and she had seen the piercing rates out in the front of the shop.
"But, um— do you guys do piercings?" she follows up before Harry has a chance to question her parents any further. 
"We do," he replies slowly, "Well, yeah, I do. Why, are you thinking about getting something pierced?"
She swears his eyes quickly glance to her chest, but just as quickly as she notices it, they're focused back on her face. She clears her throat, willing herself to have an ounce of self-confidence. 
"I was wondering if I could get my ears pierced."
Harry quirks an eyebrow and stands from his chair. Her heart rate speeds up tenfold when he walks over to her, his hand reaching outward. 
"May I?" he asks, pausing before he makes any movements. She nods, hoping he misses the way her throat bobs in nervousness. Gently, he pushes some of her hair behind her ear, taking a look at the lobe. He does it to the other one and she wonders if he can sense that she's holding her breath. 
"Hm, you really don't have them pierced," he mumbles lowly, eyes flitting back to her face. "Yeah, we could do that if you'd like. You sure daddy won't get too pissed?"
He says it with a simper though she's not entirely sure why; she thinks if he understood the dynamic between her and her parents, he'd be more concerned than teasing. Nevertheless, she shakes her head. 
"Like you said," she says softly, blinking as they stare back at one another, "I shouldn't make decisions on my appearance based on what they want."
His smirk breaks into a grin, and for the first time, Y/N feels like she's doing something right.
. . .
Y/N didn't think she would be this nervous to get her first piercing, but between the gorgeous man invading her space with a needle and the fact that Mai definitely won't want to be her friend anymore, she's feeling a little tense.
Before getting situated in the chair, Y/N said that she needed to tell Mai she'd be a bit longer, but Harry waved her off and told her he'd take care of it. Apparently, that just meant peeking his head out from his work station and yelling out to Mai that Y/N was busy and wouldn't be driving her home. (Y/N thinks she heard Mai practically stomp out of the shop.)
So now, she's spending her Saturday the last way she thought she would: With her eyes squeezed shot, anxiety making her heart thump far too fast in her chest, with a long-haired tattoo artist hunched over her body. He's so close that she can smell the woody fragrance of his cologne, and she has to resist breathing it in as she inhales deeply in an effort to calm her heart rate.
"Alright, you ready?" Harry asks lowly, his tone a groveled murmur that sends tingles down her spine. She nods, feeling particularly speechless from his closeness and her nerves. "'kay, I'm gonna count to three. Take a deep breath."
Y/N imagines he looks especially gorgeous right now, but she's too scared to open her eyes and see the needle he's about to puncture her skin with. Instead, she simply nods her head again, mentally preparing herself for the countdown. 
"Breathe, dove," he says calmly. Her stomach jumps at the pet name but does as he says. "Good. Okay... 1, 2, 3."
She jumps from the bite of pain that stings her earlobe, instantly wedging her bottom lip between her teeth as he shushes her. 
"It's alright, that was it," he murmurs, though she can still feel him at her side, carefully wiggling the earring into the newly formed hole. "Y/N? You okay?"
She blinks her teary eyes open and opens her mouth, willing her throat to push out a yes. Instead, Harry's face goes blurry as the images in front of her get hazy. In a panic, she tries to stand, the ringing in her ears sending loud alarms to her brain. She thinks she hears Harry tell her to sit down, his strong arms taking a hold of her own — but that's when everything goes dark. 
. . .
Harry's known this girl for all of two hours, and he's never felt panic ravish his body the way it did when she passed out a few minutes ago. 
Thankfully, she comes to less than two minutes later (he counted), but he remains by her side the entire time, gently stroking her hair back. As a professional tattoo artist and piercer, he's of course had people faint under the needle, but it's never happened from just a standard ear piercing. 
He supposes he maybe should've prepared himself for this. The sweet girl who accompanied Mai didn't look like she belonged at St. Mark's Social Club, but the moment his eyes zeroed in on her, he felt pulled to her. From the pastel pink top that stretched over her chest to the white ribbon tied in her hair, she was the opposite of any girl he's ever been attracted to — and yet, all he wanted was to tuck her under his arm, pull her into his chest, and spend the rest of his life protecting her.
Harry tells himself he's being stupid; some lovesick nerd that just needs to get his cock touched, but as he watches her slowly nurse a cup of water, warmth returning to her complexion, every doubt is thrown out the window. 
"I'm so sorry," Y/N pouts, lifting a hand to run through her hair, "I'm... I feel so stupid, I'm so sorry, Harry."
"Why are you apologizing?" he asks through furrowed brows. "It's not your fault. People pass out all the time here, you have nothing to be sorry about."
"Y-yeah, but this is annoying... you probably have another appointment coming up and—"
"I don't."
"Yeah, but—"
"Y/N?"
"What?"
"Stop it."
She huffs, but the apologies stop after that. With his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the wall, he watches to make sure she finishes her water. He can tell she's still feeling embarrassed and it bothers him that she thinks of herself as something to feel sorry about.
"Y'know, kinda looked like some kind of badass Sleeping Beauty while you were passed out," Harry says with a smirk, making her eyes widen, "Pretty cute, if you ask me."
Y/N's face warms and he chuckles, deciding that making this girl blush is his new favorite past time. 
"You're being silly." she mumbles, finishing off the water with a final swig. He shakes his head and takes the empty cup from her hand, tossing it in the garbage can behind her. 
"Would never lie to you, dove. We're going on what, three hours of knowing each other? I wouldn't even dream of it."
"Harry," she whines and it makes him immediately grin, especially as she pushes her bottom lip out in a slight pout, "Shush, stop it."
"Think I should just call you princess from now on, hm? Such a pretty face coming in here, think I got lucky having you pass out on me."
He laughs loudly when her lips part, her jaw slack from the compliment. She doesn't have a comeback for that one, but he assumed as much. He turns to face the cabinets behind him and grabs a paper towel and a pen, quickly scrawling out his number on it before handing it to her.
"This is my number. I'm not gonna do your second piercing today 'cos that sounds like a recipe for disaster, but I want you to text me when you wanna come in and get it done," he explains, "I only work here on the weekend, but I'll come by any day you're free, princess."
She shuffles her feet before nodding her head, stuffing the paper towel in her bag. "O-okay. That sounds good."
"Good," Harry breathes, reaching out to for her hand to help her up, "Do you need a ride home?"
"No!" her eyes dart away from his face, blinking quickly as she focuses on the dark green walls. "Um, no, thank you. You've done enough for me today. I appreciate it, Harry."
"Sure," he says slowly, narrowing his eyes at her, "Okay, well... get home safe for me, alright?"
"I will." she nods and punctuates her sentence with a harsh swallow. "Can I... is it okay if I text you when I get home?" 
A gentle smile wiggles its way onto Harry's face, warmth filling his body once again. 
"You took the words right out of my mouth, princess."
. . .
To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)
hi, im home!! im so sorry again for what happened but thank you sm for making sure i was okay. hope it wasn't too inconvenient! 
Y/N's never texted a boy she has a crush on (well, except for Jason Saunders in the 8th grade, but her dad found out within the hour and made her delete his number as he watched). She thinks she must still be lightheaded from fainting because there's no way she can seriously have a crush on someone she barely knows, but nonetheless, she pushes herself to message him to at least thank him for everything he did for her. 
She sighs as she throws her phone in her purse and climbs out of her Range Rover. Locking the doors, she crosses her fingers as she walks up the stairs and to the elevator of the luxury garage, pressing the penthouse button on the panel. She hopes her parents are still out — if they're home, she'll be on the receiving end of their badgering for the rest of the evening, and she still wants to work on a paper she has due later next week.
When the sleek elevator doors open, she's met with silence — the only telltale sign that she's alone, with the exception of her parents' private chef and maid. Relief floods her body as she steps out and into the apartment, toeing her shoes off in the entryway and taking quiet steps to her bedroom. 
She's exhausted from the day, flopping down on her bed with a sigh. Mindlessly, she feels for her phone in her bag, pulling it out to scroll through Instagram before she commits to doing work for the rest of the night. Instead, she's met with not one, but two texts from Harry.
Remember what I said about apologizing, princess?
Glad you made it home safely. Don't forget to text me about your second piercing — just name the day and I'm there. xx
She wants to let out a squeal, even if there's a large part of her brain that's constantly reminding her to limit her excitement. He's probably just being polite, she says to herself. 
Still, it doesn't stop her from replying a mere moment later, promising to restrain her apologies and message him when she's ready to get her other ear pierced. 
. . .
"Where were you yesterday?" 
Y/N blinks at her father as she sets down the spatula, shifting her attention from the buckwheat pancakes she's currently cooking. 
"Studying on campus," she replies easily, even if she had to coach herself all night to lie. She's never one to fib, let alone to her parents — she's always felt some type of fear when it comes to her father, but she knows he never would have approved if she gave him some vague answer about taking a friend to an appointment. 
He lets out a noncommittal humph. "You know there's no reason for you to be getting a masters degree when you'll just work at the company when you graduate."
Her stomach tightens. It's a frequent area of contention between she and her parents — their dream for her has always been to work at their jewelry company as soon as she graduated college, but she somehow managed to convince them to entertain her wish to go to graduate school for an English degree. They told her she could do it as long as she starts at their office as soon as graduation comes around.
She hasn't quite yet figured out how she's getting out of that one. If she even can.
"I know, father," Y/N forces out, redirecting her attention to flipping the pancakes on the pan. "It's just important that I get good grades."
"I can't imagine it's very difficult. You speak the language."
She bites her tongue. Her parents have never understood her love for books, always scolding her for having her head in the clouds from a young age. If she's being honest, books have served as a way for her to escape, always wishing she could be the girl getting whisked away by her romantic interest. 
Things always worked out in her books. Potentially having a happy ending like the ones she reads about is the only thing that keeps her going sometimes. 
Her mother, looking pristine as always even at 9 in the morning, enters the kitchen just as Y/N's sitting down to her eat. Turning stiffly, her eyes narrow at her daughter. 
"Those better not be full fat, Y/N." she says, jabbing her pointer finger at her plate. 
"They're not." Y/N says softly.
In response, she simply hums. "I don't understand why you don't just have Freya make you food. She's there for a reason."
Y/N quickly stuffs a bite of pancake into her mouth, shrugging her shoulders as she slowly chews. She's never felt comfortable requesting their chef make her anything to eat when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself. 
"Don't shrug. It's not ladylike," she scolds, Y/N's posture immediately straightening, "We have a lunch meeting with the Franklin family today. If you're available, you should come. You need to start learning the business."
"I have to work on a paper," the lie rolls off her tongue, knowing full well that she nearly finished it last night, "Finals are coming up. School is getting very busy."
"You know, Y/N, you're lucky we grant you all this freedom." her mother spits, the high heels of her Louboutin shoes clacking against the marbled flooring. "One day, you're not going to have this much of a choice in how you spend your time."
Despite only eating half a pancake, Y/N no longer feels hungry. Instead, she just nods her head and rolls her lips into her mouth. 
"You're right. Thank you for everything you do for me." 
She clears her dishes and goes back to her bedroom before her parents have a chance to see the tears streaming down her cheeks.
. . .
Y/N spends the better part of Sunday crying in her bedroom. 
She's so exhausted of this cycle. Her parents work so hard to tear her down all the time, never once taking into account what her dreams and aspirations are. She feels like she can't do anything right, as if nothing she'll do will ever please them. 
In her fit of anger and sadness, she decides she needs to leave Harry behind. He's just a pipe dream, a tiny little sliver of what her life could be if she had less restrictive parents. That night, when she's laying awake in bed, she decides that in the morning, she'll take the fresh piercing out and throw the earring away, delete his number, apologize to Mai, and pretend like this weekend never even happened.
That is the plan, anyway.
Until she wakes up to her alarm at 8 am and she has an unopened text from him, and her heart beats in a way that she's never truly felt before. She doesn't think she's ever smiled this wide after just waking up, the mere appearance of his name on her screen sending waves of hope and happiness throughout her body. 
From: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)
How's the piercing holding up? 
After getting home on Saturday, he texted her a series of care instructions for the piercing, instructing her to clean it twice a day, twist the earring, and let him know if anything felt off. She wasn't sure what it was, but she felt particularly giddy when he told her what to do. 
To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)
good!! no pain or anything and ive been doing what you told me to :)
She has a class at 10 this morning and she knows she should follow her typical routine of a shower, breakfast, and getting ready, but instead, she just lays back in the fluffy tufts of her bedding, smiling to herself as she waits for Harry to text back. A minute or so later, her phone vibrates.
Good girl.
Think you'll come in for your second anytime soon?
Her stomach twists in a delicious way but she's not sure why. There's nothing inherently sexual about what he's messaged her, but it has her craving more, a steady heartbeat forming somewhere deep in her core. 
Her eyes read over his question and she bites her lip. She knows that less than 10 hours ago, she was planning to forget Harry, but the feeling he gives her is addictive. She doesn't want to stay away — so she won't.
yeah, if you don't mind doing it :)) maybe today? 
In reality, she doesn't want to go under the needle again so soon, but she's craving to see him. He did say he'd come in any day for her.
Harry: I'd love to. What time are you free?
Y/N: i have classes from 10 to 1 today.. would 1:30 work? i can come by on my way home from campus
Harry: How about I meet you at your last class and we walk to the shop together?
Y/N swears her heart is going to beat right out of her chest. Her parents have never allowed her to hang out with a guy outside of anyone they approved of — over the years, they've attempted setting her up with other men of their same financial and social stature, but Y/N was never interested. As a result, they all grew bored of her by the second date, and her parents would yell at her for not being appealing enough. 
She doesn't know if Harry will be bothered by the same thing, but she wants — no, she needs — to find out.
Y/N: okay:) 
Harry: Great. Can't wait to see you. x
. . .
Harry knows he's pushing it.
This girl may as well have wealthy virgin tattooed across her forehead, but he just can't get himself to stay away. It doesn't seem like she wants him to either, which just makes it harder. And as he's waiting for her outside of her lecture hall on a campus he's never even step foot on, he realizes that they're from very, very different universes. 
That doesn't really bother him. He can see the obvious differences — he wears all black, has over 70 tattoos (most of which were impulsive or practice while he was apprenticing), and gives people tattoos and piercings for a living. Y/N is smart and soft; an English major in graduate school, lives with her parents, and drives a car that costs more than his yearly rent. 
He's not blind. Although, if he was blind to pretty, innocent girls, he probably could stop walking around with a permanent boner from thinking about how gorgeous she'd look in his bed.
The only thing that can tear him from his thoughts is the sight of her. He watches as she walks through the doors of the building, a slight pep in her step when she notices him, waving her hand with a smile. He licks his lips absently, willing the arousal pooling deep in his stomach to go away. 
"Hi," she greets as she approaches him, "How're you?"
"I'm good." he answers, trying his best not to let his eyes wander over her outfit, "How was class?"
"'s okay. Kind of boring. Almost fell asleep once or twice."
"Yeah?" Harry chuckles as they begin to walk towards the nearest campus exit. "Gotta stay awake in those smarty pants classes of yours, princess."
He already knows she's blushing before he turns his head to see the familiar flush flower over her skin. He points to the bag over her shoulder, pausing his steps. "Lemme carry that for you."
"Oh— no, you don't have to, I don't want to be annoying—"
"Why would that be annoying?" he asks with a quirked brow. She swallows, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."
"N-no, it wouldn't," she shakes her head and he nods, keeping his arm stretched out. She pushes the strap down her shoulder and hands the bag to him. "Thank you. That's very kind of you, Harry."
"What d'you have in here, a ton of bricks?" he asks teasingly as he slips the pink tote over his own shoulder. 
"No! I have to bring books to campus every day so we can discuss certain passages and stuff. I guess I've been doing it for so long I didn't notice how heavy it is."
"It's very heavy, Y/N," Harry says, stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, "No wonder you're falling asleep in class, you're basically doing an upper body workout on your way there."
"It's not that big a deal," she replies nonchalantly. "It's just— it's what my professors want, so."
He continues grumbling, annoyed that anyone would ask this girl to shuttle all this weight to campus every day. 
"Can you start parking closer to your lecture halls, then? I don't wanna find out you dislocated your shoulder one day."
She shakes her head. "I don't drive to campus."
"Oh, is parking that bad?"
Y/N begins to fidget, wringing her hands out in front of her as they walk. Harry glances at her from his peripherals, soaking in the nervousness written all over her face. 
"No... my parents don't let me drive to campus, that's all."
He hums, attempting to stay unbiased, even if everything he's learned about her so-called parents has only made anger rise in his chest. 
"Do they have a lot of limits on things you can and can't do?" 
"Kind of. I don't know."
"Is... is that something that bothers you?"
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. He shifts his body to face her. 
"I've never really told anyone about how they are, but... well, they take care of me. They always have. They just have a very clear vision of what they want for me."
"Right," Harry nods, "Just because they care for you or pay for certain things doesn't mean they're good, though. I'm not saying they aren't— I just don't want you to confuse the two."
"I guess."
He decides to leave it at that, mainly because he can she's growing uncomfortable, but also because they're approaching the shop. He pushes the door open and holds it for Y/N, who sheepishly walks in, Harry close behind. 
He doesn't acknowledge anyone as she follows him to his station, but she supposes it's not out of the ordinary for him to do these things since he's the owner. Once they're safely sheltered by the walls of his space, Y/N lets out a breath, sitting down in the chair she was in on Saturday.
After setting her bag down, he washes his hands at the sink. A long-haired guy pops his head in, grinning when he sees Y/N. 
"Hey, H," he greets, "Didn't know you'd be here today."
Harry's tone is gruffer towards the man, even though he seems friendly. "Yeah. What's up?"
"I need a favor. I have an appointment that looks like it's gonna take a little longer than anticipated — last minute changes and all that to the design, but Jude is coming in to pickup at 2. You mind dealing with him?"
He glares at the man before assuming what Y/N is starting to call his signature pose — arms crossed over his broad chest, leaning back against some surface in his station (today, it's the tattoo bed).
"None of the other idiots can do it? Kinda busy."
"It's your off day, figured you could handle him," he shrugs, "Unless you'd like to introduce me—"
"Shut up." Harry replies, clenching his jaw. A spark zips up Y/N's body, though she's not sure why he seems to take offense to the man's words. "Yeah, I'll deal with it. What does he want?"
"Just some edibles and a few grams of bud. Nothing crazy."
Again, Y/N doesn't miss the way Harry shoots a glare at him, who simply raises his hands in mock defense. As if speaking through some sort of secret language, he backs out of the room, his Adidas sneakers sounding crisply against the wooden floors as he walks away.
"Sorry," Harry mumbles.
"Oh. It's okay."
He turns back around to look at Y/N, who somehow looks even smaller in the chair since they arrived.
"You have no idea what that was about, do you?"
She shrugs, though it's clear that Harry's right. She doesn't often like showcasing her naive nature, like it's some sort of party trick for people to laugh at. It makes her feel sad, a reminder of the "normal" years she could have had if not for her parents.
He sighs and lifts a hand to run through his messy hair. "A few of us sell weed on the side here. It's not really a big deal, but we just do it for some extra cash on the side. I would've rather told you on my own time, though."
Y/N's palms find her thighs, plucking at the hem of her skirt as she swallows, digesting the information. Weed? Her parents had always taught her that all drugs were bad. In their minds, weed was just as bad as heroin, but when Y/N read about states legalizing the former, she didn't quite understand how that made sense. 
"I hope that doesn't make you think any differently of me," he continues. "I'm sorry."
She keeps her eyes set in her lap, "Is weed... bad?"
She's expecting him to laugh at her but instead, when she looks up, she's met with a small, adoring smile on his lips. His eyes twinkle just a bit as he shakes his head.
"No, it's not bad, dove. What do you know about it?"
"Nothing, really. I know it's legal in some places but my parents always told me to stay away from any drugs."
"I think a lot of parents do that," Harry replies with a nod, "But it can actually be really helpful for people. Mentally, physically. And others just like it, they enjoy the feeling of being high."
She swallows before biting her lip. "Do you... do you like it?"
"I do." he says. "Is that okay?"
She thinks he could tell her he's a serial killer and she would be okay with it.
"Yeah. 's okay."
His grin widens. "Alright. Lemme get you settled with this other piercing. I'll have to step out to sell to Jude at 2, but after that, do you wanna grab something to eat?"
She nods so fast she feels like a bobblehead. A chuckle — the warmest, most melodic thing Y/N thinks she's ever heard — sounds from his mouth.
"Just don't pass out again on me, Sleeping Beauty."
. . .
Y/N takes her second piercing much better than her first. 
(And by that, she means she only teared up a little bit, and no fainting occurred.) 
She's actually more nervous about the whole weed... thing. She feels torn. There's a half of her that feels intimidated by it; the part that still has a foot stuck in her parents' world, she supposes, where they taught her to never even look at people like Harry. The other half of her is intrigued to see what happens. Fascinated by him, maybe, and the way she feels when she's around him, and she doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not.
"Harry!" 
Someone calls his name from the main room as he's cleaning up and he peeks his head out. 
"Yeah?"
"Jude's here!"
He looks a lot less flighty about it than she assumes he would. Instead, he simply walks back into his station and unlocks a bottom cabinet to reveal a safe inside. 
"Know you're watching, princess," he says, turning his head to flash a toothy smirk in her direction. She looks away, blinking nervously. "Don't reveal any of my grand weed secrets to anyone, hm?"
"I'm not," she huffs, making him chuckle, "I'm just... curious."
Harry hums, pulling contents out from the safe. When he's done, he doesn't even bother concealing any of the weed he's just taken out, instead just rising to his feet. 
"I'll be right back. We can talk about the curiosity in a second."
Y/N's not snappy enough to come up with a response so she simply watches him walk away. She's only seen drug deals go down in movies and TV shows, where they're dramatic and part of the mob and guns are a necessity. She doesn't think this is one of those drug deals, but who is she to assume?
Surprisingly, Harry returns less than two minutes later with a small wad of cash in his hand. He pockets it, smiling at her when he sees she's still sitting there, the same perplexed look on her face. 
"Steal any of my bud while I was gone?"
"Harry!" 
He cackles and shakes his head. "Alright, dovie, c'mere."
Hesitantly, she stands, shuffling over to where Harry is back to kneeling on the floor. He looks up at her with an expectant expression, a wordless command to do the same. She does.
"Okay. You said you were curious?"
She nods.
"I've always found that the best solution to curiosity is knowledge. This doesn't mean you have to do anything, but it's good to know about things that may intimidate you," he explains. "So, weed can be found in a few different forms. I only sell flower, which are these little buds," he pulls out a container, showing her the small green nuggets. "And edibles, which is just candy or chocolate, stuff like that, with different levels of potency." 
"Oh." Y/N furrows her eyebrows, a small wrinkle forming between them. "That's it?"
He chuckles, "Mhm. That's it."
"And what does it do?"
"Like how does it make me feel?"
She nods.
"It's different for everyone and strains — like, the types of weed — will affect people differently, too. For me, it just makes me a little more relaxed and giggly, more touchy and less in my head. It's nice."
"That does sound nice." she says softly. He hums as he pushes the container back into the safe, locking it back up in the cabinet. "Do you think I would like it?"
It's a question that kind of blurts out without thinking about it. When he turns to look at her, eyes serious and thoughtful, she feels small; the way everyone her age or older has always made her feel. She swallows harshly, immediately regretting it.
"I don't know the answer to that, but if you ever want to try, you can tell me. I'll make sure you have a safe experience."
It's not the answer she's expecting, but instead maybe the one that only exists in her wildest dreams. She looks down to hide her blush and he smiles to himself, ducking down to catch her eyes. 
"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a blushy little thing."
Her jaw snaps closed, wiggling uncomfortably at his blatant call out. Her mother always told her that her emotions were easy to read — she said it made her weak, though. 
"I like it," Harry quickly amends, throat bobbing, "I like it a lot." 
She thinks she notices his eyes zip to her lips, but just as quickly as they dart down, they're back up to her eyes. She swallows when she realizes they've somehow gotten closer, the distance slowly closing between them in millimeters. She doesn't know who's moving in — if it's him or her or both — but suddenly, she's looking up and his face is hovering over hers, blinking in silent permission. When she doesn't grant it because she's too nervous to speak, his tongue peeks out, licking over his raspberry lips. 
"Is this okay?" He asks, minty breath ghosting over her mouth. "Can I do this?"
She nods, because she thinks any noise that would come out of her mouth would be just that — a sad excuse of a squeal. Her heart is pulsing in her ears, her hands trembling over her thighs, and then it happens — he presses his lips to hers, so gently it's almost like they aren't even there. The last time Y/N kissed someone, it was in ninth grade in the locker room after school, and she doubts it even qualified as a real kiss. This is different, though. This is Harry. 
He feels the nervousness radiating off of her so he breaks away, despite the already addictive taste of her mouth. He's gone too quickly and it makes Y/N's heart rate quicken even faster. 
"Need you to relax, princess." He says with his forehead pressed against hers. "Just follow my lead, okay? Promise it's not hard."
Embarrassed, she nods again, willing him to close the gap for a second time. This time, his lips are quick to move against hers, and it initially takes her by surprise. But she does what he told her to, mimicking his movements in tentative paces. With each passing moment, he's kissing her more and more breathless, and she lifts a shaking hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It's a bold move for her and she swears she feels his signature smirk form into their kiss. 
Time doesn't feel like it moves much when Y/N's mouth is on Harry's, but she knows it is because she needs a break to breathe. With panting lungs, she pulls away, watching as Harry's eyes flicker open. His lips are pinker somehow and swollen with spit. The image makes her core throb. 
"Y'okay?" He asks. Y/N notices his pupils are darkened and he shifts from his seat on the floor, adjusting his lower half. 
"Y-yeah," she nods, "Needed to, um, breathe."
He chuckles. "Yeah? Get a little dizzy there?"
"A little bit." 
"Cute," he murmurs, lifting his thumb to swipe a bit of spit away from her bottom lip. Instinctively, her mouth opens, and she watches as his eyes flicker to hers. Through labored breath, he slowly moves his thumb along her plushy lip, resisting the urge to sink it inside. She's not sure why something as small as this is stirring her insides, but her eyes widen when he breaks away, pushing the finger into his own mouth. 
"Oh." She breathes out. 
"I don't wanna scare you," Harry whispers, "But I'm completely fucked when it comes to you, dove. If you don't want this... want me, I need you to go now." 
She swallows. Slowly, she rises to her knees and inches towards him, closing the small gap that formed between their bodies. She's hesitant in her movements but pushes herself to straddle him, gently sinking her ass down into his lap. His eyes widen. 
"I want this. I want you." She says. 
"Good," Harry mumbles, brushing his lips against hers for the third time that afternoon, "Good." 
. . .
Y/N thinks she could go pro at lying to her parents.
A month ago, she had to spend hours preparing the perfect fib, coaching herself on how to articulate it just casually enough so it didn't seem fabricated. These days, they come out like nothing. 
I'll be home late, I have a group project to work on in the library.
I'm going to a tutoring session for one of my classes, I probably won't be home until dinnertime.
I'm spending some extra time on campus today so I can get a head start on a paper.
In all truthfulness, school couldn't be the furthest thing on her mind right now. Harry is.
Ever since that day they kissed at his shop, they haven't been able to spend more than a day apart. Mostly, they follow the same routine from that very afternoon, where he'll pick her up from her last class of the day and they'll walk back to St. Mark's together. Sometimes, Harry will have deals to do so they sit and talk in the downtime. Other days, he'll have actual work to tend to, accounting and whatever it is he does as a business owner, so she'll do some homework, enjoying the silent companionship. Y/N never stays too late into the evening, not wanting to push her luck with her parents, but Harry always sends her off with a kiss that leaves her breathless, making her promise to text him when she gets home.
And the kissing... yeah. 
Y/N likes to think she's gotten better at it from all the practicing they've been doing. She still gets a bit flustered, but it's one of her favorite things to do with him. The second they shuffle into his station, Harry closes the door so they're finally in private, and it's like a switch is turned on. Within seconds, they're wrapped up in each others arms, mouths wet and hot against one another. She's discovered that her favorite place to be is seated in his lap while his tongue explores her mouth, breathy pants parting her lips. He loves to squeeze her ass over the pleats of her skirt, knowing that it riles her up in the smallest forms of contact — tiny rolls of her hips, nails being pressed into his skin, a slight pull of his hair. 
She doesn't think things could get much better with Harry until today, during their typical makeout-and-grinding session, when he ducks beneath her jaw, pressing messy kisses to her soft skin. It's then that the words leave his lips. 
"Can I feel you under here, dove?"
His hand is fisting the hem of her skirt and the low tone of his voice makes lightning zip through her body. She doesn't know how to reply — she wants to say yes, but her mouth is dry from immediate anxiety. 
"N-no one's ever touched me there," she whispers, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry hums, unbothered, kissing her jaw once more before backing away slightly.
"Don't have to do if you don't want to. We can just keep doing what we've been doing if you'd prefer." he replies nonchalantly, his lips swollen. She swallows nervously, perturbed by his frank nature.
"I— I do want you to feel me," Y/N mumbles. It's not a lie — yes, she's a virgin who knows next to nothing about her body besides its reproductive process, but sometimes, when she goes home in the evening, she thinks about what it would like to keep going. She's seen movies and TV shows, but those have only made her even more curious. Sometimes the guy takes it slow and makes it romantic, other times it's painful and uncomfortable. She can only hope Harry would take care of her.
"Where, princess?"
Well, she can only hope that Harry would take care of her in his typical teasing ways.
Huffing, she shakes her head. "I can't say that, H."
"Can't touch you if I don't know where you want it," he murmurs, kissing her cheek lightly. "Wanna hear you say it. Ask me."
"Harry," she whines. "Please? You know... where."
"Here?" he asks, pressing his the warmth of his hand to her thigh. "This where you want me?"
"No."
"Hmm, how about here?" he moves his hand up just a bit further, inching underneath the fabric of her mini skirt to the crease of her thigh. Again, she shakes her head. 
"Dunno where you want me then, dove. Thought you were my good girl."
"H-higher." she mumbles, attempting to push her body closer so he gets the hint.
"Higher?" he echoes with a smirk, "Here?"
This time, his fingertips have found the waistband of her panties. It immediately feels wrong, but not because of who's touching her, but rather the act of it. She takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the voice in her head. Slowly, in an act of false confidence, she bunches the fabric of her skirt up at her hips, watching as Harry's eyes widen. They instantly dart down to the small wet patch between her thighs and it makes him groan softly.
"Jesus," he mutters, forgetting about his little game. He gently thumbs at her clit through the material and she jumps. Using his other hand to squeeze her hip, he tries to keep her steady, mumbling out an apology. "Am I allowed to see this cute little pussy?"
She clenches at his question, surprising herself with how turned on she feels from just a few words. 
"Yes," she nods, "Please."
"'Please'? Aren't you just the sweetest wet dream, hm?" Harry murmurs. He pushes the width of the fabric to the side, making Y/N shiver from the sudden exposure and being under his gaze. "Are you always this polite or is this just for me, princess?"
She licks over her lips when he parts her pussy with his ring and middle fingers. He hums, dipping a fingertip into her crease and lifting it to his mouth. He looks at her expectantly and she realizes she hasn't answered him yet.
"J-just for you." 
"Pretty, swollen pussy just begging for attention. Do you always get this needy when we kiss?" 
She nods, her eyelashes fluttering as he runs the tip of his pointer finger through her wetness. 
A poor excuse for an answer sounds through her lips, the affirmative tone being the only thing that gives him an idea of what she said. He snickers boyishly, Y/N's jaw dropping when they both feel her pussy pulsate. 
"I think my girl is a bit naughtier than I thought," he breathes, moving his finger back up to her clit to form slow, small circles. She gasps from the intensity, a new sensation of overwhelming pleasure that she's never received before. "Is that the truth, dovie? Do you wanna be my naughty girl instead of my polite one? Tell me." 
"Harry," she mewls, arching her back to press deeper into his touch, "P-please— feels really good."
"Yeah?" he smirks, a mocking tone to his voice that makes Y/N squeeze her eyes shut. "Yeah, does it feel really good?"
"You're— you're being mean—"
"Oh, I don't think so, dove. I think I'm letting you use my fingers to get off, petting this pretty little clit until you cum all over my hand. I don't think that's mean, do you?"
He stops stroking at her and her eyes snap open. She can feel how warm her face has gotten under his touch, quiet puffs of breath ghosting over his lips as his eyes twinkle, knowing what he's done.
"Why'd you stop?" she asks in a small voice.
"You said I was being mean," Harry replies with a shrug, "If I were really mean, I'd leave you here high and dry. Do you want to learn about edging today, Y/N?"
She shakes her head, her bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He hums and lifts his hand to his mouth, his pink tongue darting out to swirl around the fingers that were just caressing her. She watches him with wide eyes. She doesn't think she's ever been this turned on in her life.
"Do you like when I tease you?" he asks lowly. They both know the answer — her body couldn't lie even if she wanted to, and Harry noticed it the second he felt her pussy clench against nothing at his mocking tone.
"Y-yes." she whispers.
"Dirty girl," he murmurs, moving both his hands down to her hips to give them a squeeze. He tightens his hold on her and gently moves her up to the tattoo bed, helping her lay down. "We have all the time in the world to learn about what makes your pussy wet, but right now, I wanna make her cum. Can I do that, dovie?"
Y/N nods, allowing him to adjust her body however he wants. He smiles at how pliant she is for him, sticking to her good girl demeanor. 
"Need you to tell me if I go too far or if something doesn't feel right, okay?" he reminds her as he fits himself between her thighs, "At any point, you say stop and we do, no questions asked." 
"Yeah. Okay."
It's apparent to her that Harry is experienced, because it takes no time for him to wiggle his fingers back to their initial position. His thumb is applying the smallest bit of pressure to her clit, still sensitive from when he was playing with it before, but now he's circling over her hole with one of his larger fingers. She gasps at the slight intrusion. 
"Have you ever put your finger in here, princess?" 
She shakes her head. "N-no."
"Do you want me to?" he asks, though he can already feel the way her hole is all but sucking him in, "It won't hurt. Promise."
She trusts him — maybe foolishly, because she knows her parents would disown her if they knew the position she was in right now — but she pushes the thought to the back of her head, instead simply answering his question with a nod. He keeps his eyes on hers as he slowly pushes in, a gasp instantly falling from her plushy lips. Her immediate reaction is discomfort, but as he starts to stroke at something towards the back of her walls, it feels... good. Overwhelmingly good. So good that a loud moan frees itself from deep in her chest and he jumps up, gently pressing his other hand over her mouth. He ducks down and presses a kiss to the shell of her ear.
"Know I'm making your little hole feel so good, but there's other people here. I wanna keep those moans just for myself, okay?" 
Her eyes roll back as he continues to pump his finger inside of her, the assault on the magic little spot never stopping. She can sense the smirk that's likely formed on his face but she can't find it in her to care because she's never, ever felt this good before. She whimpers against his palm and he groans quietly, the sight of his gorgeous girl writhing beneath him nearly too much to handle. He wills his own raging hard-on away, instead focusing on Y/N's need to cum before he can even consider getting himself off. 
"H-harry," she sounds beautiful mewling his name even when it's muffled by his hand, "I feel— I'm—"
"I know, dove, I know," he coos, quickening the loops around her clit. She's growing increasingly sensitive from his touch as her hole throbs around his finger. "Let go for me. Let go for daddy, lemme see that pretty pussy soak me."
Realistically, he would've preferred introducing her to the whole daddy kink thing on different terms, but he's instantly reminded of how insanely lucky he is when those are the words that push her over the edge. His jaw drops as he watches her squirm underneath his hands, riding out her orgasm and squeezing him in the most delicious way. 
"Fuck, you're so fuckin' beautiful," he groans, unable to stop himself from lightly grinding his covered cock against her inner thigh. He can feel the warmth radiating off of her core and his desperation to feel her grows by the second. 
When her orgasm finally subsides, she's panting heavily and he swallows, palming himself over his pants. 
"Is this okay?" he asks breathily. Y/N raises up onto her elbows, her eyes growing a bit wide when she sees what he's doing. Despite how exhausted she is, she still nods, the curiosity of what he looks like when he comes steadily building inside her. "'s not gonna take me long — that was the prettiest thing I've ever fuckin' see. Jesus."
She blushes but he doesn't notice as he pulls his cock out from under his pants and boxers. He spits into his palm and starts to stroke himself, his gaze glued to the swollen mess between her legs. 
In college, Y/N watched porn once. It was with her roommate and her friends, who found out she was a virgin and asked if she knew anything about sex. She didn't, so they had some sort of debauched education night for her, which was really just an excuse to giggle and make fun of the way guys moan in porn. It made her feel weird, watching this couple have sex on camera, but what she does remember is the girl encouraging him to cum. Once she started begging, it pushed him to her orgasm, and Y/N was pretty impressed with that.
So, she swallows her self-conscious nature and gazes up at Harry as the slick pumps over his length grow clumsy. She can see the pre-cum bubbling at the tip and the way he gathers it with each stroke, using it to further lubricate himself. 
"Want you to cum for me," she breathes out, the words sounding foreign when they leave her lungs, "Please. Wanna see it."
Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of his head and she assumes she's done something right by the way he quickly squeezes them shut, a quiet fuck falling from his lips. 
"Please cum for me, daddy."
Much like it was for her, the use of his honorific is what finally pushes him to his finish. His jaw goes slack and his chest vibrates with muffled groans as spurts of cum rain down on Y/N's mound, eliciting a small gasp as the feeling. It's messy, but she's enamored by how gorgeous Harry looks when he comes: swollen lips, clenched abs, flushed cheeks, his large hand fisted around his length. 
"Shit," he mutters, reaching up with his clean hand to push his curls out of his face, "Are you alright? Was that okay?"
She nods far too quickly for her own good. She'd be lying if she says she isn't slightly overwhelmed, but she wouldn't take any of it back. She never wants to forget how good he made her feel, while the knowledge that she's the one that turned him on like that is a boost to her confidence. 
"Lemme clean you up, hold on," he says breathily, reaching over to grab one of the folded hand towels in the cabinet. Gently, he runs the fabric over her sensitive bottom half, shushing her softly. He does the same thing for himself and then helps her shimmy her panties back up. "You sure you feel alright, dove? You're being quiet." 
"'m okay. Just tired." She replies truthfully, sitting up to lean back against the wall. 
"Yeah? One little orgasm and you're ready for a nap?" 
She giggles and buries her head into his shoulder,  her limbs feeling particularly jelly-like. He wraps a loose arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, chuckling as he presses a kiss to her hair. 
"That's alright. I'm happy to take care of you however you need, princess." 
. . .
"When were you planning on telling me the bookstore is hiring?"
Harry's eyes widen at Y/N's unusually bold demeanor. He glances down at her, following her gaze to where she's staring at the small bookstore across the street. Sure enough, there's a help wanted sign in the window. 
"I didn't know you were looking for a job, dove," he replies with a shrug. In all honesty, he's never really paid attention to the business across the street from his own. 
"Well... I'm not really, but I do want to start making my own money." she says softly, biting her lip. 
He raises his eyebrows, "Yeah? You wanna go see if you can fill out an application?"
Despite her nerves, she still nods her head. Harry smiles and intertwines their fingers together, guiding her across the way to the bookstore. He holds the door open for her and she swallows anxiously, stepping inside the quaint store. With his hand pressed to the small of her back, he gently ushers her to the cashier. 
"Hi," she says shakily, "I saw you're hiring people and I was wondering if I could apply." 
The woman at the front grins, immediately launching into a conversation with Y/N about how excited she is that someone's interested in working for them. As she pulls a paper application out from a drawer on the side, Harry smoothes his hand over her back, rubbing it gently. He's so proud of her, his heart feels like it could burst. 
It's only when she's finishing up filling out her information that someone says her name. They both turn, Y/N's eyebrows instantly furrowing in confusion. 
"Y/N," the woman hisses, and Harry glances down to watch his girl's face crumble, "What are you doing?"
"Y/N... who is this?" Harry asks, his possessive instincts immediately taking over. 
She swallows harshly, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater. 
"Um... this is my mom."
read part two here!
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marvelsmylife · 3 months
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The orange peel theory
Pairing: Azriel x reader
A/n requests are open
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The orange peel theory. It was a silly test to see if their mates truly loved them. They passed if they peeled the orange for their mate without complaint. If they question why or refuse, they fail. It’s the test that Rhysand passed and Cassian failed. 
Rhysand was rewarded with a kiss from his mate, while Cassian was met with the orange he refused to peel being chucked at his head. To make up for his mistake, Cassian picked up and peeled it before giving it to Nesta. She begrudgingly accepted the fruit from her mate and offered to share it with him.
Since you didn’t have a mate yet, you were getting ready to peel yours yourself. The second you were about to start peeling your orange, Azriel showed up: “May I?” Azriel extended his hand and caused a confused expression to appear on your face: “Your orange. Let me peel it for you. I know you don’t like the scent of citrus on your hands”.
Smirks appeared on Feyre and Nesta's faces as they watched the shadow singer peel the orange for you. Everyone knew Azriel had feelings towards you and they wanted nothing more than for you to finally realize it: “Thank you so much Az, I really appreciate it”.
“It’s no problem,” Azriel replied and handed you your now peeled orange “Let me know if you need me to peel any more for you”.
You simply nodded and watched as he walked away. The minute he was gone Feyre and Nesta stared at you wildly: “What?” you asked.
“How can you not see that Azriel is in love with you ????” Nesta asked as Feyre nodded in agreement “he peeled your orange without even being asked”.
You let out a nervous laugh before replying: “Azriel isn’t in love with me. He’s still in love with Mor”.
“That is where you are wrong y/n,” Rhysand replied, Cassian nodding in agreement with his brother. “Azriel hasn’t been in love with Mor ever since you came into his life”.
You started replaying all of the interactions you’ve had with Azriel and started wondering when things changed between the two of you: “What if you're wrong? What if he’s just being nice because I'm Nesta and Feyre’s friend?”
“First of all, I’m insulted you don’t think of me as a friend,” Cassian dramatically placed his hands over his chest “Secondly, Rhysand and I have known Azriel for five centuries, I know when our little shadow singer has feelings for someone and that someone is you y/n”.
You wanted to deny it mostly because you didn’t want to get your hopes up. Yet, the more you thought about it the more you couldn’t deny the lingering touches you would share from time to time. How every time you were upset or sad Azriel would miraculously be there to comfort you. 
The more you thought about it, the dumber you felt for ignoring the signs. “Do you think he’s going to confess his feelings for me? Should I confront him about them?” you asked your friends.
Little did any of you know, Azriel was thinking of a way to finally confess that he was your mate.
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yeslordmyking · 1 year
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"Be you, at least for once..."
Like always, it's like he knows exactly what I'm going through and knows all the things I want to hear.
He's been through so much pain...
And now I can't give him my support to make it better anymore.
I wish I'd known you were something I had to lose. To choose to get rid of even though you make me smile 🥺
I feel gutted. But... I can't love anything more than God. No idols before me... May it please the Lord. May all our pain please the Lord. Eventually. Somehow. 💔
#if only i could jackson... 😭😭😭#if only our natural human selves wasn't wired to offend and betray God. if only the things that feel good were right#if only even... things like liking and seeing the good in other people who are just sinners like me wasn't smth i needed to stop#because i will always love you and see something beautiful in you even if i never let myself be a fan of and enjoy anything ever again#everything you're saying about knowing myself and being myself... when i know that God wants us to deny ourselves.... i.... can't#as beautiful and comforting and inspiring those words are i know i have to do what God wants instead of what i want. always#i can't trust that what i want is good for me. i have to let God show me what's actually good for me and my soul#ny 'gut feeling' could be deception of the devil and flesh. my life doesn't matter. just my soul.#i worry that our wants and dreams can replace God. i can't let that be a possibility#i hope that you're chasing things in your life that God has placed in your path. i worry about you just like you worry about your fans#that's why i can't make myself stop praying over you no matter how much i convince myself that it's dumb or a waste of time#because.... because i think i love you too. whether i really do or not who knows. i hope i really do love you jackson#maybe i'm not allowed to love you the way i want. maybe not in the way the world understands love and support. but I'm trying to love you#and I'm trying to let you go and let God do what I'll never even be able to fathom for your life and your soul. i don't want to let go#I've let go of everything about myself. it's all still there but i don't engage in it anymore. you're still there#clearly me posting this is proof that i'm a failure to die for God and give Him full control without involving myself#you helped me believe that i didn't have to do this to myself. to kill my dreams and everything in my heart to be an empty vessel for God#i wish my heart would let itself believe your words again. would let me believe it was ok to love you#if it's wrong to hold you in my heart despite trying to stop then i pray God has mercy on me on the day of judgment#because i still love you. and i don't understand why i should stop loving someone i see pieces of God#i can't stop loving you because i don't have faith that God's got you. I've seen it. maybe. I've convinced myself that God is in your life#I've convinced myself that i care this deeply about a complete celebrity stranger so i could convince myself of anything i want to believe#i wish i could convince myself that.... nevermind. i just had to vent and cry over another beautiful thing that i'm losing#i want to stay. i want to be part of your loved ones that you support. would God ever allow it? would i recognize it if He did?#take care of my beautiful Jackson. Your beautiful creation Jackson. please#no matter if i never know about it. I'm trying to get better so i can get to Heaven. i want to see Jackson there too#jackson wang you are my only true love#my baby boo#super secret fanfirl queue#i'll probably delete this later
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unclewaynemunson · 6 months
Text
Pt1 | Pt2 | this one is the last part!
After Steve has dropped Nancy off at her house – and Nancy has talked some courage into him – he drives to the uglier part of town, over Cornwallis and then into Forest Hills. He can only hope Eddie is home. If not, he'll try Jeff's house, and then Freak's or Gareth's. He had to promise Nancy he'll keep searching even if it has him ending up at Reefer Rick's boathouse again.
Luckily, no such search actions seem necessary when he gets to the trailer park: as soon as Steve opens his car door, he can hear loud music emerging from inside the Munsons' trailer. Even though it isn't exactly Eddie's usual taste, something tells Steve that Wayne definitely isn't the one who put this one on.
Should have known better than to cheat a friend And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you
He knocks on the door, but is not surprised when no one inside seems to hear him, so he pushes it open to let himself in instead.
He finds Eddie sprawled out on the floor in front of the old boombox. His eyes are closed, but even from Steve's place in the doorway he can see how swollen and red the skin underneath them is. His hair is spread out around his head on the floor like a dark halo, and his fingers are restlessly tapping on his own arm to the melody of the saxophone solo.
Steve finds himself frozen in the doorway, captivated by simply watching Eddie lying there in his own bubble while the music slowly fades out. Despite the sadness radiating off him, there's something weirdly beautiful about it, and Steve can't look away, can't move, can't make a sound.
Then, Eddie suddenly sits up; his index finger is already stretched out towards the rewind button when Steve clears his throat to make his presence known. Eddie whips his head towards him with a startled sound.
'Jesus Christ, what the hell?!' he yells out. 'How long have you been standing there? No, you know what, don't answer that, just get the hell out!'
'Eddie, I-'
'I don't wanna hear any of it, man! I thought – no, I'm not talking to you. Fuck you.' Steve knows it's supposed to sound angry, but Eddie's voice starts wobbling dangerously towards the end of his sentence.
'Eddie, please just hear me out,' Steve says, stepping further into the trailer. The end of Careless whisper has left a deafening silence in its wake. He half expects Eddie to cover his ears and start singing loudly, but he's only met with a teary-eyed death stare and crossed arms.
'I'm not seeing any girl, Dustin got it all wrong,' he starts to explain. 'I wanted to tell him who I was really seeing, but I couldn't - not without your permission - so I told him I was seeing someone. Meaning you. I haven't been seeing anyone ever since that first time we kissed. I didn't need to. I've only been thinking about you.' He pauses. It's scary, to let himself be vulnerable like this while Eddie is still looking at him like he despises him. But he takes a deep breath and pushes himself to say it all.
'I don't want to see anyone, boy or girl, ever again, as long as I can have you, Eddie. I promise. I've been falling for months, but I didn't wanna scare you off with any labels you might not want for us – but you're it for me, Eddie, one hundred percent. I never meant to hurt you like this. It's all a big misunderstanding; there's no one else for me.'
Eddie is still sitting on the floor, looking up at Steve with wide, teary eyes. Something in his face has slowly shifted while Steve was talking; the harsh lines around his mouth have turned softer and the betrayal in his eyes has made way for something Steve can only hope to be good.
'You wanted to tell Dustin about us?' is all Eddie says, his voice croaky.
Steve takes another step towards Eddie, then crouches down to the ground until he's sitting right next to him on the worn carpet.
'I mean, I know I don't wanna hide what I'm feeling for you. Especially not when people are thinking I'm going out with some girl when all I want is to be with you.' He reaches out to grab Eddie's hands in his own. 'So yeah, I think I wanna tell Dustin. And everyone else, basically. That is, if we're on the same page about what we are.'
Eddie frees one of his hands from Steve's grip to wipe it over his eyes. His palm is wet when his hand finds Steve's again.
'What about boyfriends?' he says, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face.
Steve squeezes his hands, unable to stop a matching smile of his own appearing. To hear that word falling from Eddie's mouth... He had expected it to feel good, of course, but he had never anticipated it to feel like this: like the whole world suddenly makes sense again.
'Yeah, I can do boyfriends,' he answers, his voice breathy with the multitude of emotions bubbling up inside of him. 'That sounds – sounds good. Great. Perfect.'
Eddie surges forward to catch him in a kiss that's a bit wetter than Steve is used to. Steve happily kisses him back, though, and he can barely suppress a shiver when one of Eddie's hands makes its way upwards over Steve's back and into the hair in his neck. There's a softness to his touch that easily drives Steve crazy with relief.
When they pull back, both of them are smiling dumbly and breathing heavily.
'I'm sorry I had so little trust in you,' Eddie tells him.
'That's okay, I understand,' Steve is quick to answer. 'As long as you leave listening to George Michael to me again from now on.'
Eddie makes a face, causing a big frown to appear between his eyebrows, along with all kinds of wrinkles around his nose.
'God, I can't believe you witnessed that and still wanted to be my boyfriend,' he says, adding an exaggerated shudder for extra dramatics.
Steve clenches his arms tighter around Eddie. 'You won't scare me off that easily,' he murmurs. 'It was kind of adorable.'
'It was pathetic.'
'Yeah, a little bit. But in an adorable way.'
Eddie rolls his eyes. 'You're an idiot, Steve Harrington,' he says. 'But... In an adorable way.'
Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx @candlecatsblog @goodolefashionedloverboi @jojobeaner @pinkdaisies1998 @giverobinagfbrigade @therealscarletpumpernickel @darkwithcoferie @duraffinity @lyriclight @almondflavoredbookworm @kingelyx @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @m-owo-n @altermagic @sirsnacksalot @littlebookworm86 @platinum-sunset @chaosgremlinmunson @morganski-19 @cam-cat-writer @slime-hoe @bat-outta-hel @justsearchingformystory @notfromtwitter @ashwinmeird @marklee-blackmore @warlordess @breealtair @pansexualhousecat @louwilsonscreamingpapa @inikokoru (more tags in the replies bc tumblr is being a dick again)
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that-sarcastic-writer · 7 months
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A Love Game II
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DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader
Summary: You, Leon, in his bedroom. What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children), p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms (f receiving), hair pulling, minor choking, creampie, praising, soft!dom!leon, Leon has kinda of an innocence kink, parent/teacher dynamic, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, foul language
WC: 4.4k
A/N: yay I made it past the 2 part mark for a "series" how exciting. I hope I can post this in peace. For anyone that cared enough to want more parts, here we are. There's some more in the works. What do we say? Do we want to see this second date and leon being dumb and in love? Dunno when those will come out but, for now here's this.
Part I | Universe Masterlist
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Were you really driving halfway across town to get laid?
Absolutely. 
Leon didn't even have to ask you twice. It wasn't like you had much going on anyway. And you really wanted to see him.
You made it three, maybe four feet into his apartment, enough for you to take a look at him. Hair wet like he had just taken a shower, shirtless, and only a pair of pajama pants hung from his hips. That man was without a doubt, trying to drive you insane. Though you had concluded you were in fact insane, the second you said yes to going out with him. 
"Hi." You stood in front of him, the scent of his body wash taking you in. A mixture of light bourbon and vanilla. It wasn't overbearing, but it was definitely intoxicating. That, or you were already drunk on the thought of him.
"Hi." His lips irked up and he leaned down, lips barely brushing over yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "I really wanted to see you again." 
You were in his bedroom in record time. Somehow in between hushed laughs and messy kisses, always doing your best to stay quiet. But ultimately, he closed the door behind you, his body pressing you against it as he kissed you.
His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both. 
"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?" 
Your jaw hung agape, a sharp shudder leaving your lips at his words laced with confidence and dominance. Christ, the things this man made you feel. You felt like you would have slipped right onto the floor had he not been pressing you against the door with his body. It took a long hard look from the ocean of blue that were his eyes for you to even speak. 
"I.. Yeah. I'll be quiet. I just.." You swallowed, lip quivering with anticipation, your hands landing flat against his chest, attempting to grip at something other the hairs across his chest. "I need you, please."
Leon watched you ever so amused, flashes of lust and need overcoming his otherwise stoic eyes. And his lips irked up with malice. 
"You sweet girl," He gripped your chin between two fingers, tilting your head ever so slightly to look over your pretty face. The need to see this face covered in tears as you begged him to come overcame his rational mind. All he could think about was ruining you. "How is it possible for such a pretty and innocent looking thing to ever be so needy?" 
"You. You do this to me. I've never—" You wetted your dry lips, a wave of heat flashing between your thighs as your voice died in your throat. 
I've never wanted to be ruined by someone. 
I've never wanted to be fucked into nothing. 
Until I met you. 
The words never left your lips, though. All you could do was look at him with those pleading eyes of yours, hoping he would understand. 
And fuck, did he understand. 
His mouth was on yours without another word being spoken. You were more than eager to let him take over. His hands guided you carefully through his bedroom as his lips did with yours as he pleased. He sucked, pulled, and bit all he wanted. And the sounds that would sit in your throat every time he did so only made him all the more eager to have you on his bed. 
Your feet were no longer on the floor, and your back hit something soft and warm. With a soft gasp you landed on your back and his body encased you under him. His lips once again found your neck, making work of your skin as his hands fell down your body. He forced your hips off the mattress long enough to push your sweatpants and panties down your hips. You kicked them down the rest of the way with a shiver, watching through half lidded eyes as he lifted his body up enough to settle beside you. Your eyes followed him with confusion, for a moment forgetting about the cold air now settling between your thighs. 
"You, Miss, are going to keep your legs wide open for me, okay?" A large hand fell on your thigh, fingers digging into the tender skin for a second before he pulled your legs as far apart as they went. You gasped, unconsciously flinching at the cold air. Leon slightly narrowed his eyes at you. "I remember you like to squirm, and close your legs. But these better stay open, or I will fingerfuck you until you cry. Understood?" 
Your lips parted, but you simply nodded, not saying any words out loud. 
"Use your words baby, I know you can." 
You breathed out a shudder, "Yes, I.. I understand." 
Leon flashed you a pleased smile as he positioned himself on his side, his chest pressed against your shoulder and he used his legs to trap one of yours, making sure they stayed open. He didn't trust your self-control very much right now. 
"That's a good girl." He leaned down, his lips pulling your own into a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated and it was fucking messy. But it was enough to distract you from where his hand was about to go. 
His lips parted from yours just enough to leave room for him to spit into his fingers, before his lips were back on yours. Your mouth didn't stay open long though, for the second his fingers grazed your already sensitive clit, you gasped. His lips curved up, his nose brushing against yours as he rubbed slow circles around the nub. It was slow, agonizing, but fuck, it felt so good. 
"Oh my—" the words fell from your lips in a quiet whimper, your head falling to the side into Leon's chest as you attempted to quiet yourself, but the longer his fingers worked you the stronger the ache in your stomach became. "Fuck, Leon." 
"I know, sweetheart. You're so wet for me. Is this what you wanted me to do to you earlier? Finger you wide open in your bathtub?" He spoke into your ear, his voice was raspy and so full of arousal with each word he said. 
You tried to respond, but when you felt two long fingers slip into your wet cunt all you could do was scream. You weren't sure just how muffled the sound was but Leon didn't say anything about it. He definitely heard you, but that only made him want to work his fingers harder. He loved the sound of it, too, the lewd sound of his palm slapping against your wet cunt each time he snapped his wrist. It was his favorite sound— after your moans, of course. 
"Shit. Shit. Leon— a-ah—" Your voice was broken as you weakly grinded against his palm, but his fingers were buried so deep already all you could was desperately chase with your hips. Leon only found this all the more arousing. 
"Mhmm, yeah, just like that. Fuck yourself on my hand just like that. You look so goddamn pretty." He spat, watching as he curled his fingers against that one spot that made your squirm. The sight of you, pathetically grinding against his hand as you weakly attempted to stay quiet shot straight to his cock. 
He needed to fuck you so goddamn bad. But he needed to focus. He could be selfish after. 
"Shit, baby, look at yourself. I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect sight." He made you watch, his free hand fisted around the roots of your hair and he held your head in place to watch as he slid his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. His hand as well as your thighs were glistening with your slick.
The sight was absolutely filthy, the sound more so. But fuck that only made you want to come even more. You couldn't help it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mouth fell open in a silent cry, the wind-up in your belly getting tighter and tighter. 
"Please. Please Leon. I'm gonna come. I think I'm gonna come." The words came out in parts, high-pitched and in between pants. 
Leon bit his lip, feeling the tightness of your walls around his fingers and he hummed, letting go of your hair to clasp a large hand over your mouth. He was shifting his weight more on his side, and he slammed his fingers so hard and so deep his palm rutted against your clit. He was a smart man. The cry you would have let out then would have woken up anyone in that apartment, or next to it. 
"Let go for me, pretty, I got you." His fingers left your hole to rub harsh circles on your clit, his fingers so wet he didn't even have to spit on them again. 
Though, he did surprise himself with how fast he had started to learn your body, because the second that wave of blinding heat hit you, you were squirming on that mattress like you wanted to run away. He, admittedly selfishly so, slightly ground his own hips against your leg as he fingered you through your orgasm. He could only handle so much with the sounds you had been making and how you oh so desperately wanted to come. 
He watched your face, teeth digging marks into his bottom lip as his fingers slowly stopped their rhythm. Only when you couldn't take it anymore and you attempted to squirm away from him, that was. 
"You did so good, baby." His lips replaced his hand with a much gentle kiss. He pulled back as he sat up, slipping his coated fingers past his lips in the process. "You taste really fucking good, too." 
This man was going to be the fucking death of you. 
You breathed out long pants, your forearm over your forehead as you tried to bring yourself back down to earth. You watched him shuffle around a bit. Until he was once again above you, his massive arms caging your head. 
"You okay, pretty?" He ran a careful hand over your face, looking you over with tenderness. It warmed your heart just how gentle he could be after absolutely wrecking you. 
"Uh huh. I'm perfect." You gave him a lazy smile, throwing your arms around his neck to hold him closer. "Are you going to fuck me now, handsome?" 
Leon looked at you with surprise at your shot of confidence, but the look in your eyes was of need. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he tugged his pijama pants down his hips, kicking them off the rest of the way somewhere to join yours. Your sweatshirt was next, and Leon was more than pleased to find you bare under it. 
"Just the way you deserve, pretty girl." He pressed a long, hard kiss to your lips before he sat back on his knees. 
Your legs hung lazily over his hips, completely at his mercy as he slowly rubbed himself through your folds, covering himself in your slick. Your lips fell open into a soft whimper. Leon shot you a small grin, his blue eyes filled with a wave of lust not once leaving your face as he slowly slid into you. His own lips parted and a grunt fell from them as your walls took him in. It was intoxicating. He was fucking addicted to it. 
"Goddamn baby, you take me so well." He sighed out, grinding his hips ever so slightly, enough to make you whine. 
"Leon, please. Just take me." You whined, slightly grinding your hips to give yourself some relief. He tilted his head at you, both hands gripping your hips with a tight grip. 
"Why are we so needy today, hm?" He teased, lazily dragging his cock in and out, not stopping but also not giving you what you wanted. 
"Ugh— you! You do this to me." You all but shouted at him, instantly regretting your volume and you swallowed hard at the glare he shot you. 
"I swear to God if you woke up my daughter." He groaned and leaned down, picking up his pace without a warning. "I am so going to fuck this attitude out of you." 
Any and all witty comebacks you could have come up with then were lost the second he started to drill into you, the angle making you feel the little hairs at the base of his cock brush against your clit with each snap of his hips. Your body would have slid back and forth on the mattress had it not been for the tight grip he kept on your hips. You were sure you were going to have his fingers printed on your skin in the morning. But God, you didn't care at all. 
"Shit— shit Leon— you feel so—" You whined into the air, your head falling to the side to muffle your cries on one of his pillows.
"Feels good, baby?" He gave you a particular deep thrust that made you slide up the mattress and you nodded harshly. "Yeah?" 
"More—" You breathed out, mindlessly reaching for him, only finding his wrist. 
Leon bit his already puffy red lip, long strands of hair falling over his forehead as he moved above you, his body now hovering over yours. Your knees were now damn near next to your head as he kept fucking you into the mattress. The new angle made you see fucking heaven now. 
"Like that?" 
You barely missed his words entirely, you were so drunk on the feeling of his cock, on his scent now mixed with your own. You didn't know many things, but of one thing you were certain, you could never get enough of this man. 
"Yes, yes, yes." You chanted into the air, almost delirious, like a praise only meant for his ears. 
Leon grunted softly, leaning down to brush hid nose against yours. He spoke words of praise so quiet you would have missed them had he not been so close. Your hands were on his face, barely holding on to him for dear life. His lips found your wrist, then your palm and in an instant one of his hands gathered both of yours, pinning them both above your head. You were absolutely helpless and at his mercy. And you wouldn't want it any other way. 
"Are you gonna come for me, pretty girl?" He slurred the words against your cheek, his cock buried so deep it was only a matter of time before you fell apart. You gave him a half nod, mouth agape as quiet moans fell on his ears. "Yeah, you are. I want to feel you come on my cock, c'mon. Fuck— I need to feel you come on my cock again." 
"God Leon— fuck— I'm gonna—" Your back arched against his chest, toes curling as wave of pleasure overcame your body. And it only took the feeling of his thumb on your swollen clit to fall apart completely. 
His mouth covered yours as your body convulsed under his, your orgasm hitting you so hard you were squeezing the shit out of Leon's hand above you. He happily swallowed the cries from your mouth as he continued to drill into you, rutting himself against you. He could only control himself for so long. 
"Fuck me— Goddamn baby, you drive me crazy. You take me so fucking well." He grunted against your cheek, his free hand now sprawled across your neck. He didn't squeeze this time, he only held you as he gave you one, two more thrusts of his hips before he was spilling himself inside you. "Atta girl. Atta girl." 
His lips were lazy on your cheek, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. A drunken giggle left your lips at the slight tickle his stubble left on your skin. His hands were now beside your head and he lifted his head enough to look at you. 
"Doing okay, pretty?" He asked with this pussy-drunk smile on his face, one of his fingers brushing the side of your face, "hm?" 
"Yeah, I'm living my best life." You giggled softly, opening your eyes to find his sapphire ones staring sweetly at you. 
"Sure you are, with my dick deep enough to feel me in your stomach, what more could you ask?" He teased, his lips curved up into a smug grin. You widened your eyes at him and smacked his shoulder. 
"You're insufferable." You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to move from under him but he was a brick wall above you, he refused to move a muscle. 
"You adore me. Wouldn't be here otherwise." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and removed himself from you. His words lingered on your mind. You weren't sure what the fuck it was that you felt for this man, other than the utter need to be fucked by him. But outside of the obvious chemistry, you wanted to be around him, to be around Isabella. You couldn't help it. You were catching feelings for him and his little girl.
You watched with big eyes as he stood up and walked around the bed, you couldn't help but giggle a bit. He turned to shoot you a questioning glance. 
"You actually took your pants off today." 
Leon furrowed his eyebrows even more confused and looked down, in fact very naked, "Yeah?"
"You didn't last time," You laughed softly, sitting up, amused by the way his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. 
"How would you know that? You were on your stomach, then on your back the whole night." He teased you back, making big eyes at you. 
"I heard your belt rattle the whole time.'" You rolled your eyes, now sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed to meet where he stood. He narrowed his eyes at you as he leaned down to meet your lips. 
"Guess I was that eager to fuck your brains out." He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he nudged to his bathroom. "Clean you up, then maybe, stay the night?" 
"Really? You scrunched up your face at him, eyes slightly widening at the idea of being in his bedroom while Izzy was down the hall. But you had to admit you couldn't say no to this man. "I mean, that'd be nice but—"
"Hey, don't worry. She doesn't have to know you're here if that's what's on your mind. We'll get there when we have to." 
We'll get there when we have to. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren't sure exactly when morning came. Leon had closed the blinds before getting into bed with you last night. Tiredly so, after he decided taking you one last time would be ideal. You had decided to spend the night with him. What was the worst that could happen, right? 
An embracing warmth surrounded your body, and it wasn't exactly the thick soft duvets that covered you. When sleep slowly slipped from you, your eyes fluttered open to find Leon. Your face was snuggled deep into his chest as his arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, keeping you warm. The bourbon and vanilla lingered on his skin and took you in like the sweetest of greetings. You smiled softly, snuggling further into him. Leon had been awake for a little while. But he refused to get up so as not to wake you, he simply held you, his fingers resting on your scalp soothingly. Only when he felt you stir awake did he move. 
"Morning, pretty." His low raspy voice filled your ears and you felt a pair of cold lips on your forehead. You hummed softly, lifting your head to find him already looking at you with those eyes. 
"Morning, handsome." You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone as you laid your head on his chest. 
"You sleep okay?" You heard him mumble above you. You nodded.
"Slept nice and warm." You smiled, running your fingers over the prominent patch of hair on his chest. 
"I'm good at something after all." He snorted. 
You were about to respond with one of your witty comments when you heard a few rapid but soft knocks on the door. The doorknob turned a couple of times with no result since it was locked. You and Leon jumped into a sitting position at the sound. Leon in particular had a 'oh uh' look on his face. 
"Daddyyyyyy! Why is your door locked?" You heard Isabella on the other side of the door. 
You looked at Leon who was frantically looking on the nightstand for his phone. 
"Fuck. Goddammit." You heard him curse under his breath as he harshly stood up, shuffling around the nightstand. 
When the fuck did he leave his gun out last night? He groaned to himself. Walking across the room with his handgun in one hand and his phone in the other. Which you clearly didn't miss. 
"Leon, why do you have a gun right now?" You asked, anxiously holding the covers up to your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. 
"Government issue. Forgot to put it in my safe last night." He answered over his shoulder as he went into his walk-in closet, he came out a minute later. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I completely forgot she had to get up early today. Let me get her in the shower then I'll be back, okay?" 
You pursed your lips softly, a bit disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend the morning with him. But it was understandable, his daughter was first, and it certainly wasn't time to introduce, well whatever the two of you were. He leaned down to capture your lips into an apologetic kiss. 
"'S okay. Go, take care of Izzy, I'll be here." 
He shot you a smile and nodded. He found his pants from the night prior and slipped on a random sweatshirt he found sitting on his dresser. He shot you a wink before he slipped out the door, closing it behind him. 
"Daddy." 
Leon was met with a very grumpy and frowny little girl as soon as he closed his bedroom door. His eyes widened at the sight of her with her arms crossed. 
"Yes, bee?" Play dumb. Why not? 
"Why was your door locked?" She repeated her question from earlier, sapphire eyes intensely staring him down. Like he was a suspect that needed intimidation and she was the agent doing the intimidating.
"'Cause I'm an adult and I can lock my door. What did I tell you about minding your business?" He gave her a look, but he wasn't being serious, not really. Her face didn't otherwise change, though. 
"I'm going to be late, daddy." 
"No, you're not. Isn't your ballet lesson at 9:00 a.m? It's 7:00 a.m." Leon rolled his eyes at his little girl and picked her up. She, of course, didn't protest at all. 
"Well, yeah, but I want breakfast." She rebutted. Leon couldn't help but chuckle at her. 
He took her to her bedroom, setting her on her bed before he walked to her closet. 
"Yeah, well, you're taking a shower first, bee, you stink." He snorted when she very loudly disagreed, that she did not, in fact, stink. 
"I do not! You do!" 
"I showered last night. I can't stink. Your nose doesn't work." He kept annoying her until he found her ballet clothes. He walked back to her bed, handing her the folded clothes. "Go on, go shower. Just don't get your hair wet, remember I have to put it up, okay?" 
"Okay daddy." Izzy happily took her clothes and skipped out of her bedroom, but not before popping her head back in to say, "Can I have waffles for breakfast please? With lots of syrup and bacon?" 
Leon looked at Izzy with soft eyes, his heart warming ever so slightly at his little girl, and he nodded. 
"Of course, Izzy. Whatever you want." He waved her away and she happily skipped, going on about her daddy being the best daddy in the world. He couldn't help but laugh to himself and at the wonderful daughter life decided to give him. 
When Leon returned to his bedroom he watched you hurry back to his bed like a child that just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to. He raised an amused eyebrow at you when you slightly bounced on his bed, eyes big as you tried to hide the smile on your lips. 
"You're so nosy." He chuckled, rolling his eyes at you. 
"What? I wasn't doing anything.." You bit your lip softly, holding back a giggle. "Just that your little girl has you wrapped around her finger."
If he had rolled his eyes any harder, they would have gotten stuck there. But the tiny curve on his lips told you he was more than happy about it. He shrugged as he stood in front of you, leaning down to your eye level. 
"She's not the only one." He grinned softly at the confused look you gave him. "I know it's soon but I can't stop thinking about you. You're sweet, absolutely gorgeous and you're kind to my little girl. So, maybe you'd like to try something with me?" 
"If you wanted to ask me on another date you could just say so, you know my answer." There was a playful smile on your lips as he leaned down to kiss you. 
"After I drop Izzy off at ballet? We could grab brunch, and, I don't know, let's do something you like. How does that sound, Miss?" 
Christ, you felt so stupid, so naive, like this could go all kinds of wrong but, what's the worst that could happen? 
“Sounds like a start, Mr. Kennedy.”
1K notes · View notes
neverinadream · 3 months
Text
Let Them Hear You, Princess
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Summary: Seeing your ex-boyfriend leaves you itching to do something that could potentially get you and Nico kicked out of the bar.
Pairing: Nico Hischer x Fem!Reader
Requested: Nope
Song Inspo: When You Need A Man - The Driver Era
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, nsfw, fwb!nico, mentions of an ex-boyfriend, dom!nico x sub!reader, hints of a brat!reader but not really, bathroom sex, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), praise, some hair pulling, handjob, oral (male & female receiving), fingering, nico gets a little possessive, not edited
Notes: uh...hi! once again, i am writing for someone new. to my existing followers who don't follow the nhl you don't have to read this, it's okay to skip this one. some parts of this is a little off with the phrasing, at least to me they are, so just try to ignore it, and yes, the ending might feel a little rushed or unfinished but i was losing focus so...yeah, enjoy whores 🫶🏻 feedback is always appreciated
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"And I'm finally back," Nico slides the drink across the table, the red and white striped straw taking centre stage in the glass, "only took me nineteen hours." He rakes his fingers through his hair as he slides into the booth, tucking a few strands behind his ear. "Next time," he hooks his arm around your shoulders, "you can go up to the bar."
You scoop up your glass, your lipstick-stained lips wrapping innocently around the straw, but the act momentarily draws in his gaze, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
"And what makes you think I'll get served any quicker than you?" You take a quick sip, the taste of vodka mixed into the fruity concoction burning the back of your throat. "The place is packed."
You look out to the rest of the bar, your usual spot for a night out overcrowded with others who were looking to knock back a few drinks. No one could move without accidentally tripping over someone's foot, or bumping elbows with another. At a pool table, you spot his teammate gaining the attention of a small brunette.
"Timo has a better chance of getting her number than I do getting served at that bar."
The corners of his mouth pull up into a grin. "I don't know," he sets his drink down, condensation already forming on the outside of the bottle, "I think you'd get served pretty quickly."
You pull the straw to the corner of your mouth, matching his grin. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he shuffles closer, the rough texture of his denim jeans brushing against your bare leg. He dips his eyes, watching you adjust your skirt, a small comment about wishing you had worn something else filling his ears. "There's nothing wrong with what you're wearing," he reassures you, liking the way the dress hugged your body, "it would definitely catch the eye of a bartender." He tilts his head, letting his gaze wash over your body, absently licking his lips. "Perhaps even get you served quicker at a crowded bar," he trails off.
You rolled your eyes and take another sip, hoping the coldness of your drink might cool the heat that rocketed up your neck as you swallowed it down. "You're not even-" You fall silent, your skin growing cold when your eyes land on someone you had hoped not to see tonight.
Nico chuckles, going for his beer. "Not what, cutie?"
"Connor's here," you whisper, caging your drink closer to your chest.
He sighs. "I know." Your eyes snap to him. "I saw him when I was at the bar, okay," he explains, pulling his arm from around you, dropping his hand to give your knee a soft squeeze, "he tried to talk to me, so I told him to fuck off."
"Nico-"
"The guy's a dick, Y/N," he cuts you off, bringing his hand higher up your leg. Your gaze is dragged down to the hand that burned your thigh, the roughness of his calloused hands leaving behind a dull ache. "And it's not like we were ever buddies when you were together." Your eyes snap back up when he takes his hand away. "Come on," he suggests, nodding over to a few of his teammates, "let's go have some fun."
Your eyes drop to your lap. "I don't know," you mumble, shrugging. Seeing Conor had left you with a sour taste and a desire to hide. "I think I wanna go home."
Nico slides the bottle over the edge, swallowing the sigh that wants to escape. "Look at me," he cups your face, tilting your head back, smiling when your eyes finally reach him, whispering, "Hi." You try to match his smile but it's weak. "Don't let him ruin your night, okay?"
"That's easy for you to say," you chew your bottom lip.
"Maybe," he brings his thumb against your bottom lip, gently prying it from between your teeth, "but you're my friend and I like you better when you're smiling."
You perk your eyebrows. "I thought you liked me better when I'm on my knees?"
"That too," he agrees, a chuckle ripping through his chest.
Sitting back, he reaches for his beer, catching the attention of your ex as he tips his head back and takes a long sip. Connor's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Nico, a scowl pinching at the corners of his mouth when Nico wrapped his arm over your shoulders. He quirks his eyebrow, his own lips curling into a smirk, like he was silently saying you lost.
"You know what," Nico swings his head in your direction, "let's get out of here."
"You sure?"
Nico nods. "Timo looks like he'll be leaving soon," he takes another sip, "and I'm sure the others won't mind us leaving early."
He slides out the booth, grabbing his jacket off the seat, but you stay seated. He glances back over his shoulder, turning quickly on his heels when you hadn't followed him. "I thought you wanted to stay and have some fun?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest, the action subtly spilling the tops of your boobs over your dress.
He lifts his foot up onto the booth step, his hand reaching out to rest on the seat. "And I thought you wanted to leave?" He fires back, matching your tone. He looks into your eyes like he was trying to bore his way into your brain. To find the thing that had made you change your mind. "You know, since Connor is here?"
"And then I'll get home and just feel stupid for letting him get to me," you tell him, reaching for your glass, draining the rest of your drink at an impressive speed. Setting the glass down, your eyes flick to the bar where Connor crowded the end with his usual group of slimy friends. One look at him had you remembering the cold way he had broken things off with you. It made you angry. Angry enough to do something worthy of getting you and Nico potentially kicked out of the bar. "I want to piss him off."
Nico doesn't stop the smile that stretches across his face. "That's my girl," he cheers, putting his jacket back on the seats, like he was staking a claim on the booth. He wasn't going to miss a chance to help you. "What you got in mind?"
You shuffle out of the booth, Nico moving back to leave you enough space to step out. "Come here." You beckon him closer with your finger, excitement thrilling your body as he steps towards you, his large hands moulding to the shape of your hips. He lowers his mouth but you place your finger against his lips, barring him from the pleasure of kissing you. "I want you to fuck me, Nico," you whisper, sliding your hand down his broad chest, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans, "I want him to hear me scream your name as you make me come."
A lump the size of New Jersey lodges itself inside his throat, but he swallows it down, grinning as you hook your finger under his chin and pull him in for a kiss. He groans, tasting the fruitiness of the cocktail you had been drinking, fisting his fingers into your hair and pulling your head back to deepen the kiss. He sucks on your tongue, his cock growing hard from your taste, and he nips at your bottom lip as he pulls away.
"Does he look pissed?" He asks into your ear, lining your jaw with quick kisses.
"Like he could throw a chair," you reply, biting your bottom lip and whimpering as Nico sucks on your neck.
"Good," he pulls back to look at you, "now let's go really piss him off."
Nico pulls you quickly into the bathroom, his hand blindly searching behind him until he hears something click.
"The door-"
"Already locked," Nico cuts you off, wrapping his arms firmly around your waist, and burying his face into your neck. The smell of your perfume was intoxicating, leaving his cock at half-mast and twitching in his jeans. "I don't want anyone disturbing us," he adds, kissing and nipping at your skin, making his way up the column of your throat. You feel his smug grin pressing into the side of your neck. "I bet he's just counting down the minutes until we come back."
His calloused thumb presses against your mouth and he watches it open with little resistance, doing nothing to stop the memories of you taking his cock, your lips stretched around his girth, from flashing behind his eyes.
You flick your tongue over the pad of his thumb, grinning when he responds with a low groan. "Whatcha thinking about?" You giggle, looking up to meet his eyes.
"You," he simply answers, "on your knees."
You wiggle out of his arms, sinking to your knees before him. "Like this?" You encourage his fantasy, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper down. He nods, tucking his hair back and rutting his hips as you pull his jeans down just low enough to untuck him. "So fucking pretty," you whimper, wrapping your hand around the base and flicking your tongue over the crown of his cock.
He snorts. "Did you just call it pretty?"
"You call my pussy pretty, don't you?" You ask, spitting onto his head and pumping it up and down in languid strokes.
"Because it is, princess."
"Exactly!"
"Oh, fuck-!" You lower your mouth onto him, Nico tipping his head back as your warmth surrounds his tip. His precum sits on your tongue, a moan rattling along his shaft, and pulsating his balls. "Yeah, that's it." He feels your tongue run along the underside, licking along the sensitive strip, and swirl around his tip. "Don't be a tease-," he props his hand on the back of your head and nudges his hips forward, encouraging you to take more, "-and pretend like you can't take any more."
"Perhaps I need a little assistance," you goad, pulling off him with a pop and breaking a string of spit with your tongue. His cock slides in and out of your closed fist lubricated, albeit messily, with your spit. "Fuck my throat, baby," you whisper, before lazily kissing his tip.
"Up," he gives the one-worded demand, ignoring your protest as he hoists you to your feet.
You watch with disappointment hanging in your eyes as he tucks himself away, your feet stumbling back until you feel the counter pressed against you. "No fair," you mumble, grabbing a handful of his shirt, tugging him forwards, "I was having fun."
"You were being a brat," he disagrees, curling his hand around your neck and licking at the seem of your mouth, before crashing his lips against it. You willingly part your lips and let his tongue in, swallowing up his groans as you rub him through his jeans. "Stop it," he grumbles against you, grabbing your wrist and pinning it at your side.
You trail your mouth lazily down his neck, dragging your teeth over his Adam's apple. "Let me have my fun," you beg, sucking hard on the bottom of his neck.
"Oh, you'll have your fun, princess."
He lifts you onto the counter, the top cold against you, making you shiver. He bunches the end of your dress around your waist and pulls your panties to the side, chuckling like he knew you'd be soaked from sucking his cock. Another shiver licks up your spine as he runs his fingers gingerly against you, rubbing your clit in slow circles.
Taking two fingers, he pops them into his mouth and groans, tasting you as he sucks them clean.
"You'll have your fun coming for me," he insists, hooking his fingers under your panties, tearing them down as he sinks to his knees. He tucks them into his pocket and looks up at you with a grin. "And I want you to be loud," he lifts one leg over his shoulder, grazing his mouth along the inner of your thigh, "I want to make sure that pathetic excuse for an ex hears you."
A noise somewhere between a moan and a strangled gargling sound rockets up your throat as Nico latches his mouth around your pussy. Your fingers, itching to grab onto anything, fist their way into his hair, the soft strands slipping through them like strands of fine silk, and tug at them every time he does something you like. You moan his name loud and proudly, the excitement and the rush of your ex hearing you floods you with more arousal.
He switches between long, languid flicks of his tongue, the kind that teases out your desperate whimpers for more, licking you from bottom to top and sucking on your clit until you nearly squirm off the counter. "God-!" You tip your head back and tug on his hair. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."
He grunts in agreement, licking his lips as pulls away, liking the way the taste of you coats every inch of his mouth. His hand slides up your thigh and teases your clit with his thumb. "He never treated you like this, did he?" He spreads you apart with his fingers, drool pooling in his mouth from how pretty you looked. "Couldn't fuck you the way a princess deserves to be fucked." He dips his head and flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit. "That's okay," he mumbles against you, "you've got me now."
You whimper, feeling the tip of his finger nudge against you. "Please," you nod, moaning and biting your lip, feeling your pussy clench around nothing when you look down to see him already staring up at you. He retracts his finger, earning himself a unhappy scowl. "Nico-"
"Louder," he cuts in, silencing your protest, "make sure he hears you." He rises to his feet, wiping his mouth and chin with his hand, before pressing it against the mirror, forcing you to lean back as he towers over you. "Let 'em all hear you," he corrects himself, possessiveness lacing his tone, "make sure every fucker who has looked at you tonight hears you beg for it." It was Nico's idea for you both to have a casual arrangement - someone to have a bit of fun with without the commitment that came with a relationship - but he sure hated the way this dress made people stare at you. You were his, not theirs. He was the one making you come most nights, not them. "Let 'em all know who you belong to."
"Nico-"
"Louder!"
You guide his hand between your thighs, bringing his fingers against your cunt, teasing your hole that was desperate for any attention. "Please," you whimper, bucking your hips, trying to push onto his fingers. He grunts but doesn't oblige. "Nico!" You whine, dragging his name out. It only earns you another chuckle. "Stop teasing me!"
He crashes his mouth down against yours, swallowing your moans as he finally pushes his finger inside. "Nice and warm for me," he mumbles, his tongue splitting your mouth open, tangling with your own. Little whimpers fill the bathroom as you taste yourself, the corners of his lips twitching upwards into half-smile. "Taste good, don't you, baby?"
You nod, raking your fingers through his hair and dragging his mouth back down for a second taste.
He withdraws his finger and adds a second, feeling you stretch to fit the girth of both. "So fucking tight," he breathes against you, pinching your bottom lip between his teeth.
"I guess you're just gonna have to stretch me out," you reply, sneaking your hand down the front of his jeans.
"Who knew a pretty mouth could say such filthy things?"
"It's all your doing," you giggle, kissing the underside of his stubbled jaw, "I was all sweet and innocent until you came along." He moans as you grab and untuck his cock, dipping to kiss down your neck to hide the pink flush of his cheeks. It sits thick and heavy inside your palm, the tip red and sensitive, dripping more pre-cum. You squeeze the head, feeling his hips rut up to find more friction, and run your thumb gingerly through the pearly beads. "You corrupted me."
"Corrupted?" He brings his thumb down against your clit, brushing it in circles, working it in tandem with his fingers. "No, baby," he tuts, resting his mouth against the shell of your ear. His breath on your skin makes you shiver, your cunt clenching hard around his fingers. "I cured your blindness, allowed you to see just how good sex could truly be."
You snort. "I never said the sex with him was bad." It was.
"You didn't need to," Nico says, withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean. Just as you were about to whine, he dips, sinking onto one knee, and latches his mouth around your clit, sucking the nub between his lips. "God, I'll never get over how good you taste," he moans around you. Hooking his hands under your bum, he presses you firmly against his mouth, drilling his tongue deep inside. "That's it," he mumbles as you loudly for him, "atta girl! Let 'em hear you."
Reaching for him, you hold onto the back of his head, your fingers curling through his hair, keeping you upright as you rock your hips. "Jesus, Nico!" You moan his name, falling into the same rhythm as his tongue laps against your cunt. His nose bumps against your clit and your body jerks. "Fuck-!" You breathe out, the knot in your stomach tightening - you were so close to coming. "Don't stop!"
"Gonna come for me?" He peeks up at you, grinning into you as you dig your nails into his head, holding him still as you buck your hips wildly against him. "Yeah?" He chuckles, the vibrations rushing through you. "You are? Come on, princess, use your words."
"Yes, Nico!" Your face flushes with a searing heat as you cry out. "Fuck-! I'm coming!"
A light laugh emits from the back of his throat, drowned out by your loud cries. "That's it, buck into my face," he drags his tongue over your cunt, "give it to me - all of it; make a fucking mess." He pushes his tongue deeper inside, feeling a rush of warmth gush over him, and circles his arm around your thigh to brush his thumb over your clit. "That's it," he encourages, rubbing your clit in fast circles, trying to hold you in place as you thrash about, "good girl, so fucking good for me!"
Your body withers and shakes, hips trying to jerk away from his mouth as he brings you down from your high.
"I definitely think he heard you," Nico says, withdrawing himself from between your thighs, his mouth wet and his hair a complete mess. He rakes his hand over his hair, quickly fixing it. "I hope he did," he murmurs, hooking his fingers under your chin and drawing you close. The kiss is short and he pulls away licking his lips. "Come on, let's get out of here," he mumbles, fixing his jeans and helping you back onto your feet, "I'm not finished with you yet."
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NHL Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @chilwellspulisic @lovelynikol16 @love4lando
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741 notes · View notes
qqueenofhades · 1 year
Note
I understand how important it is to be able to criticize the President, and am not at all of the belief he should be beyond critique, but the critiquing of Biden makes me so nervous. (That's not to say I agree with every decision he's made - I absolutely do not). But I feel like people see things he's done wrong and decide they won't vote for him because of it. I'm not sure if enough people have the ability to see that he's done things wrong but also is our only hope of staving off literal fascism.
So many people talk about how sick they are of it constantly being a lesser of two evils situation, constantly having to vote for a candidate they hate because the other side is worse (I heard it in 2020, 2022, etc), and I guess I just- I don't really get it? We're here because they didn't do that in 2016. All of this could've been avoided had the result been different then. I just feel like people don't comprehend how different of a place we'd be in if Hillary won and engage in all this cognitive dissonance to make themselves feel better about being part of the reason she didn't.
Like.... this has been a long-running topic of discussion on my blog, not least because it is so inexplicable and maddening. It also shows how terribly shallow most people's understanding of the American political process is, and how toxic the "I can only vote for a candidate if every single personal belief/position of theirs matches mine" belief is, as well as how much damage it has done to American democracy even (and indeed, especially) by people who technically don't identify as right-wing. Yell at Republicans all you like (God knows I do, because they're the worst people on earth) but they vote. Every time. Every election. Every candidate. Whereas the Democratic electorate still holds out for Mister Perfect, and it very definitely is Mister Perfect. The amount of "evil HRC!!!" Republican-poisoned Kool-Aid that so-called progressives drank in 2016, and then afterward when they insisted they could have voted for someone like Elizabeth Warren and then didn't do that in 2020, is... baffing.
Frankly, I don't care if Hillary Clinton's personal positions on XYZ issue were the most Neoliberal Corporate Centrist Shill to Ever Shill (and Online Leftists' intellectual skills being what they are, I seriously doubt that they were using any of those words correctly and/or accurately). American policy is not made by "personal dictate of the ruler," or at least it shouldn't be, because we are not an absolute monarchy. We rely on the operation of a system with input from many people. As such, if Hillary had been elected, we would have 2-3 new liberal justices on SCOTUS and have secured civil and environmental rights for the next generation. Roe would be intact, and all the other terrible rulings that SCOTUS has recently handed down wouldn't have happened. We wouldn't have had January 6th, the attempt to stage a coup, all the tawdry scandals, our national security being at risk because of Trump stealing classified documents and probably selling them to Russia and/or Saudi Arabia, etc etc. If you think that's in any way an equivalent amount of evil to what would have happened if Hillary was elected, or if she was "still evil!!!," then I honestly don't know what to tell you. She could fucking murder puppies in her spare time if she had preserved SCOTUS for us, WHICH SHE WOULD HAVE, BECAUSE SHE WARNED US EXACTLY WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.
(Hoo. Sorry. Still steamed. 2016 war flashbacks, again.)
In short, Hillary would have been a solid continuity Democrat and she would have signed whatever legislation a Democratic House and Senate passed, not to mention been hugely inspiring as the first female president. But because it's so important to the Online Leftists' moral sense of themselves that BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME!!!, they can't possibly acknowledge that ever being a factor, and/or admit that they have any culpability in not voting for her in 2016. It's like when you read the British press about any of the UK's equally numerous problems, and they BEND OVER BACKWARD to avoid mentioning that Brexit might be a factor. They just can't mention it, because then that means they might have made the wrong choice in pulling for it as hard as they did, and blah blah Sovereignty.
Basically, if HRC had been elected president, everything would be so much less terrible and terrifying all the time, we would be talking about her successor in 2024 as someone else who could be the "first," we could explore handing the reins over to Kamala as a Black/Asian woman, we could promote Buttigieg as the first gay president, etc etc. But because 2016 was so catastrophically fucked up, we are in damage control mode for the immediate future and every election is just as pivotal. And yet, because people think that the only thing that matters is a presidential candidate's personal views, we're stuck having the same old arguments and desperately begging people over and over to please vote against fascism, since that somehow isn't self-evident enough on its own. Yikes on Bikes.
5K notes · View notes
gasstationlady · 7 months
Text
tom holland’s school of manifestation | a charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x supermodel!reader
charles has a big crush on world renowned supermodel, y/n l/n. who would’ve thought she’d return the feelings.
notes: very much travis kelce x taylor swift inspired. faceclaim is yasmin wijnaldum! btw i try to improve with each post (like how i write/pace the story) so if you have any suggestions, pls (veryvery kindly) tell me!! :))
disclaimer: SORRY FOR TYPOS. GOOGLE TRANSLATE (and from american high school lol) FRENCH. KYM ILLMAN MENTIONED LOL. none of the information in this social media au is factual. i do use old photos of charlotte and charles, and usually i don't like to include pictures of their ex or current gfs in these fics (only bc i want to keep it as imaginative as possible and i feel like adding them kinda gives you a reality check while reading LOL) so lmk your opinions on that!
masterlist
voguemagazine
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 854,487 others
voguemagazine Since beginning modeling at the age of 14, Y/N L/N has cemented herself as the most influential supermodel of all time. As of 2023, she is now the world’s highest paid model surpassing Kendall Jenner who previously led the list. Throughout her career, she has made 39 appearances on international Vogue covers.
Tap the link in our bio to read the full profile. Photographed by @/leannafitz, Written by Phil Stevenson, Styled by @/sheri_simmons, Vogue, February 2023.
View all 942 comments
user MOTHER IS MOTHERING
user omg as someone who has been a fan since she began in 2011, i’m so proud of her 😭
user she's the definition of perfection
user LOL ariana (charles), what are you doing here
↳ user his little crush on her is soo cute 😩
↳ user he’s just like us fr lmaoo
user her walk is legendary like it reminds me so much of naomi
user i was gonna say she’s the model of our generation but that’s wrong. she’s actually the top model of all time 😩😩😩
user i’m glad to see a non-nepo baby be on top of the list
↳ user no literally like no shade to bella, kendall, and them but y/n had to fight tooth and nail to be here
↳ user frrr bc most of the nepo baby models are great, don’t get me wrong. however, they were allowed to make mistakes during their career in order to improve. y/n was not privileged enough to have that. like ppl don’t understand the insane expectations that were placed on her ever since she entered the industry, but she exceeded those expectations every. single. time. and that’s why she deserves this title
user she’s so beautiful
user i would die for y/n
user nothing could describe the amount of affection i have for this woman omfg
charleslc_updates
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42,077 likes
charleslc_updates Charles and Arthur talking about Y/N L/N (again lol) in a recent interview 👀
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user lmaoooooo relatable
user omg i'm new to f1 but i've always been a y/n stan i'm freaakkkinng out but wdym again??
↳ user lmaooo charles is always trying to bring up y/n
user the leclerc brothers 🥰🥰
user it was so cute to see the both of them in one video
user this man fr blushed AHAH cute
user i get it charles i too have the biggest crush on y/n
↳ user lol literally like get in line dude
↳ user back of the line bucko
user i've never seen a man so down bad for someone he's never met
user y/n what are you doing girl if you don't want him ILL DO IT
user @/yourusername
↳ user LMAO YESSS @/yourusername
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ynupdates
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239,095 likes
ynupdates Y/N opening the 2023 Chanel by Karl Lagerfeld show during Paris Fashion Week.
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user omg she absolutely killed it
user god does she need a dog? i can bark
user i love seeing her thrive
user quick charles this is your chance!!! she’s in paris 😭😭😭 @/charles_leclerc
↳ user lmaooooo not you tagging him but literally though
↳ user no srsly please mr. "i hope our paths cross soon" you don't understand i need this to happen
user yall saw that walk??? ugh y/n the woman that you are
user i don’t get the hype. all she does is walk.
user NAHHHH SHE ATEEE THAT
user i’m so happyyyy 🥺 y/n is so booked and busy she’s really out here doing multiple back to back shows for paris fashion week
↳ user same! it’s crazy that she gets to open and close multiple shows, especially ones like chanel!
user i love that so many people are going to these shows just to see y/n
user i could make this exact dress with my curtains
user if i ever meet her in real life i would die happily
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 5,490,124 others
yourusername rien de mieux que d'etre a la maison [no place like home]
View all 12,658 comments
gigihadid sexy lady
↳ yourusername already missing you
user i keep forgetting she's part french
user you absolutely KILLED those shows
voguemagazine iconic ⭐️
alexademie 🔥🔥
user beautiful girl!!
user omggg charles liking this LOL
↳ user it's actually frustrating me that this man has no game like i'm rooting for you cmon
↳ user lmaooo literally though i'm just hoping he's pulling some strings behind the scenes
anokyai 😍😍😍
user la plus belle fille [the most beautiful girl] *liked by charles_leclerc
↳ user if this is him shooting his shot 😭😭
↳ user lol charles is down so bad he's even going through the comments
user am i just crazy but why are there two drinks in the second post? like is this supposed to be a very soft launch
↳ user it's probably gigi 😭😭 she did comment saying that they were hanging out with each other
↳ user but why not just take a pic of her tho
deuxmoi
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31,844 likes
deuxmoi Y/N L/N & Charles Leclerc spotted hanging out with each other in Paris
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user NO WAY OMG
user i'm actually in disbelief how tf did charles get here
user i knew you could do it charles!!
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE
user so are they dating???
user CHARLES FR WINNING RN AHAH
↳ user NO LITERALLYYY HES BEEN DREAMING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES
↳ user he manifested this 😭
user they look sooo good together
user why does he look so srs
↳ user give my man a break 😩
↳ user well it looks like he’s not your man anymore 😭😭
user omgg this is like a fairytale
user wait i'm kinda obsessed with this
user i’m so invested
kymillman
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201,885 likes
kymillman Y/N AND CHARLES
Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is joined at the track today by top supermodel, Y/N L/N. This is the first time Y/N is with him and she clearly shines in front of the camera.
Her debut at the grid has quickly become a popular topic as fans and drivers alike are intrigued by the presence of one of the most famous women in the world.
For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com #f1 #formula1 #signedprints #japanesegp #CharlesLeclerc #Y/NL/N
View all 971 comments
user SHDJEJ IM ACTUALLY GOING FERAL
user mom and dad 😩
user so it’s official???
↳ user i mean this is the hardest launch they could have done other than posting 😭
user i’m a charles fan and even i’m surprised he got her to date him
user i’m rooting for them so much 🥺🥺
user she’s serving though
user i’m watching the race rn and they literally keep talking about y/n being there AHH
↳ user i always forget she’s kind of a big deal
user kym gets on my nerves but this picture is actual gold
user it's so obvious that this is a publicity stunt
↳ user nah but for who? bc i know damn well that neither charles nor y/n need it
↳ user obviously not for them but maybe it's to gather more attention for f1
↳ user girl i need u to listen to urself rn 😭 bc that makes no sense
user idk who charles is and idk what the hell f1 is but best believe i’m tuning in next race just to see y/n
↳ user literally me girl i can’t believe i’m watching cars drive in a circle rn
yn_updates
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91,922 likes
yn_updates Some moments of Y/N being mentioned by drivers during the Formula 1 race
View all 1,061 comments
user i swear it was like every minute i'd hear y/n's name
user the way that all the drivers are aware of charles's long time obsession with y/n LOL
↳ user i just know charles is the type to never shut up about her ahaha
user she's literally THE y/n l/n. i mean if viewers are sky rocketing just by her being there, imagine her impact if she had actively promoted it
↳ user she's so iconic
↳ user no bc i love y/n so much that i just forced myself to watch rich grown men vroom vroom in circles for almost 2 hrs just to catch a glimpse of her
user i'm in love with her life
user LMAOOO THE DRIVERS TEASING CHARLES
user lando's so funny 😭😭
user y/n and f1 stans are being FED today wow
user is it just me or am i kinda annoyed about how often they're bringing her up like my girl can't even support her bf in peace
↳ user yea i'm eating it up but also feeling bad for y/n at the same time. the attention is definitely a double edge sword.
user apparently she was with joris most of the time 🥺
user this is literally straight from a fairy tale i can't
user didn't they just meet like a week ago
↳ user as far as we know they were first spotted together about a month ago by that deuxmoi post. but assuming from y/n and charles's past relationships, i don't think they'd be this comfortable going public without being together for a while
↳ user yea this has definitely been going on longer than we think/have been seeing
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, gigihadid, landonorris and 7,712,083 others
charles_leclerc J'ai toujours su que c'était toi. Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour ❤️ [I've always known it was you. Happy birthday, my love]
View all 34,511 comments
yourusername merci, mon cœur ❤️ [thank you, my heart]
yourusername je suis raide dingue de toi [i'm madly in love with you]
↳ charles_leclerc l'amour de ma vie [the love of my life]
user are we interrupting something...
user i can’t believe it’s already been 6 months since they first went public
user throwing myself down the stairs as we speak
user they don't know it yet but we're actually a throuple
user happy birthday y/n!!!
user in love with their love 🥺
user lmfaoooo i just know charles is on cloud 9 this man literally sees y/n and is blind to everything else
↳ user he's sooo cute, he's like a love sick puppy
user i still think this is a pr relationship
user god i'd die for someone to look at me the way charles looks at y/n in that second pic
user this is my roman empire
user i'm so obsessed with them it's insane
user our generation's brad and angelina
↳ user don't say that wtf my parents are never separating
user pls don't ever breakup 😭😭
2K notes · View notes
ur-local-anti-hero · 29 days
Text
Back to december
Remus Lupin x reader
Summary: Remus feels like he will regret that night the rest of his life, the marauders convince him to do something about it.
Genre: Hurt/comfort, Second chance romance
CW: Remus being self-destructive and questioning his worth.
Word count: 1.8K
This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' Version) collection.
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“So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you, Saying I'm sorry for that night. And I'd go back to December all the time
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine”
Remus sighed, his eyes were fixed into someone across the great hall. He was sitting with the marauders at their usual place, his fork was playing with the food in front of him, he hadn’t been able to eat ever since that night. 
“Come on mate, tell us what’s wrong. You’ve been sighing the whole dinner.” Sirius’ voice made him turn to him, seeing his three friends looking at him with worry written in their faces. 
“Nothing is wrong, I’ve already told you” Remus replied with the same excuse he had been using for days.
“Yeah and that’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N like a kicked puppy for the last week” James retored. “Tell me again, why did you two break up?” 
“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Remus sighed, tired of repeating the same conversation over and over with his friends. 
“Until you tell us the truth” Peter urged. 
“I’ve been telling you the truth, we wanted different things, the relationship wasn’t working” 
“Remus” Sirius’ voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname while referring to his best friend was jarring. “You two were the epitome of love, I had never seen you smile as much as you did with her, like, never.” 
“It’s hard to believe you, not even a day before you broke it off you were looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Your words, not mine.” James insisted. 
And he was right, Remus had never been as happy as he had been while dating you. The choice of breaking things off had been all his. He loved you so much it was terrifying, at some point all he could think about was how long he had left before you realised what he really was and you left him for someone better. You deserved someone better. 
“I really hope this has nothing to do with your monthly problem.” Peter’s voice was low, only for the four of them to hear. 
Remus couldn’t help it, he stiffened. Peter had nailed it and he wasn’t ready to let his friends know about how deep his insecurities really run. But, they noticed his frame changing from exhausted to on guard, Remus didn’t even say anything before the rest of the marauders understood what had happened. 
“Is that true Remus, did you break up with her because of that? I thought she already knew?” Sirius asked quietly, his previous anger now replaced with symphaty.  
“She knows now, and it doesn’t matter, just drop it. I’m done with the interrogation” Remus snapped at them before getting up and leaving the great hall, leaving his friends with dumbfounded expressions behind. 
───✥───
Lily meant well and you knew it, but if she kept asking you if you were okay you might explode. 
“How are you, Y/N?” Lily asked you, for the fourth time in the last hour. 
Ever since Remus had broken up with you Lily had been sitting next to you through all the meals, leaving her boyfriend's side, and afterwards she would walk you to your dorm. You appreciated her company and her friendship, but she was also a constant reminder that things were not as they were before, and therefore she was a constant reminder of your heartbreak. 
“I’ll be fine” was the answer you settled for every time she asked.
“I talked to James.” Lily hesitated before speaking “Are you really okay? He told me why you and Remus broke up…” 
Your eyes widened at that, if James had really told Lily about your break up that meant Lily knew about Remus being a werewolf, and as far as you were concerned he had never pushed her out of his life as he had done when you had been the one to bring it up. 
“You knew about…that?” you decided to keep it as vague as possible in case James had made something up to stop Lily from asking more details. 
She nodded “Ever since fourth year” 
“Did he tell you?” You needed to know, your hands were now shaking and your heart was racing. 
“No, I figured it out. Just like you did '' Lily's words calmed you down a little, if he had been able to confide in Lily but had never felt safe enough to tell you it would’ve made you feel awful. 
“The moment I brought it up he cut me off, we didn’t even have the chance to discuss it. He just broke up with me.” It was the first time you were being honest about it, and it just made everything hurt like if Remus was breaking up with you all over again. 
Lily stepped closer to you before wrapping you in a tight hug, her arms stroking your back in an attemp to comfort you. 
“I think you should talk to him, try to make things right again.” she whispered. 
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 
“Somehow I doubt that.” 
Maybe Lily was right, but you would never be brave enough to even try to prove her right.
───✥───
After storming out of the great hall Remus had locked himself in his dorm, he didn’t want any of the marauders to give him a speech about how he couldn’t let his lycanthopy affect his relationships. Because it had already affected the most important one he had. 
But of course his friends wouldn’t grant his wishes. 
“Remus, let me in, I want to talk with you. Please” Sirius was nothing but persistent. “Come on Moony, you know I’m not leaving.” 
Remus sighed, he’d been doing that a tad lately, but decided to let Sirius in. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, and he preferred to talk with him alone and not wait for James and Peter to join Sirius. 
When he opened the door Sirius didn’t waste a second and barged in, going directly to sit on Remus’ bed. 
“Oh, yes of course, make yourself at home on my bed.” Remus scoffed at him. 
“Come sit, Moony” 
Remus didn’t have the strenght to fight him, so he walked towards his bed and sat next to Sirius.
“What happened when she found out?” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. 
“She confronted me about it, asked me why I hadn’t told her.” Remus said sadly 
“Was she judgemental, was she scared or disgusted?” Sirius inquired, he knew you well, and you weren’t anything but lovely and understanding, being disgusted by Remus’ lycanthropy was not something he pegged you to be. 
“I didn’t give her the chance to really express what she thought of it” Sirius gave him a look of encouragement for him to continue. “I broke up with her before she could say something.” 
“Why?” 
“I think that if she had rejected me at that moment I would have never recovered from it, I was terrified.” He said, his words showing a rare vulnerability. 
“Do you regret it? Not giving her a chance. Do you really think she would’ve hated you?” 
“I regretted it the moment she walked out of the door, but I couldn’t risk it” 
“I think you should give her the chance, talk with her.” Sirius patted his shoulder
“If she didn’t hate me then, she defintely does now. She deserves better.” 
“I believe it’s not your call to choose what she does or does not deserve, give her the chance.” 
Maybe Sirius was right. 
───✥───
The Gryffindor common room was not very crowded after curfew, usually only a few seventh year students were spotted working on their class work after being kicked out of the library. 
But these days you would only find comfort on the couch in front of the fireplace, even if it was not a substitute for Remus’ warmth during the cold nights of december, it was the best you found. 
The quiet crack of the wood being burned and the weight of your blankets lulled you to sleep, your eyes were closed and your breathing slow, you were finally falling asleep when the weight of another body made the couch shift. 
“Y/N '' your name was called very quietly, barely above a whisper, but you could recognise the voice anywhere. 
“Remus” your eyes opened and you sat up, straightening yourself
Remus was sitting right next to you, far enough for his thighs to not touch you, but close enough for you to be able to read his expression in the dark room .
“Can we please talk?” He was fidgeting with his hands, clearly nervous of how this conversation was going to go. 
You hugged yourself before nodding. Then a beat of silence 
“I’m sorry.” you both said at the same time. Another silence took over the room before you both chuckled awkwardly. 
“I’m really sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared and I was impulsive, I know I can’t excuse my behaviour, and you don’t have to forgive me but I needed you to know.” He took a deep breath before continuing 
“I have never felt what I feel for you before, and only the thought of you leaving because of my lycanthropy terrified me. And the moment you confronted me about it I thought it was better if I was the one leaving. But I regretted it the moment I saw the tears in your eyes, and when you walked out of the door all I wanted was to take my words back. And I regret it every time I see you across the great hall instead of next to me. Words can’t begin to show how sorry I am.” 
Remus was now crying, he wasn’t the only one, your eyes had started to water the moment he started talking. You took his hand on yours before speaking. 
“It’s okay Rem, I forgive you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I would hate you for being you” you said sincerely. 
There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked each other in the eyes, they were filled with tears, but also love. You swore no one had ever looked at you like that before.
"Can we try again, please?" He asked 
You didn't even answer, throwing yourself at his arms, which embraced you with the familiar warmth you desperately craved. 
"I've missed you so much, please never leave again" you sobbed into his chest 
"I won't, I promise" he said, placing a kiss on your temple. 
Maybe Remus should listen to Sirius' advice more often if they were going to help him get the love of his life back. 
Author's note: I'm so proud of this one I think it's super duper cute. I'm also dying with uni work at the moment, wish me luck, love u all <33 Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Series' taglist: @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsimp @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 
501 notes · View notes
erideights · 8 months
Text
Little pieces here and there (2)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, three, four, five
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Flirting, suggestive flirting, heavy pinning
A/N: GUYS THIS CHAPTER HAS ME ON THE FLOOR, I HOPE YOU ENJOY, THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE and if you like it let me know to start preparing part 3 ♡ (sorry for any grammatical mistake!)
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"The One Piece will never be yours!" He shouted angrily, that -now- dwarf with a red nose, giant hands and feet, when he was defeated. Just like in a cartoon for kids.
"You're just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man's hat!" She could not understand how it was possible that this intimidating, psychopathic, eccentric clown had turn around so quickly into this little thing that was so... dare she say pathetic, but she didn't wanna be too cruel to him.
The moment Luffy declared his intentions again, Buggy began to look around him, desperate for a way to escape, maybe one of his crew members who would miraculously come to the rescue, or an unexpected ally.  Like (Y/N).
"Wo wo wo wo, no no no no, wait wait!"
He opened his mouth and begged, probably to suggest some kind of pact, to promise (Y/N) a place among his crew like he did with Luffy before, but before he could say anything else, the rubber boy already threw him into the sky.
And that was the last time she thought she would see Buggy The Clown. Little did she know, she was wrong.
Oh, so wrong.
Let's say that the days to come were anything but calm. From the Kuro Incident™, at least they won Usopp's friendship and the Going Merry, one of the cutest ships she has ever seen, to be fair.
And then they arrived at the Baratie, where they met the oh, so attentive Sanji, Zoro was about to die, and Nami... Nami left with the fishmen. Although (Y/N) was on Luffy and Sanji's side when they claimed something bad was actually happening, because she wouldn't have chosen to leave with them just like that, without a hidden, ugly reason behind. Didn't fit in with the idea she had of the ginger.
"I know someone who knows where to find her," says her "captain" when they all discuss their next step.
"Hello boys!" Buggy's head coughs and exclaims in the most forced, sarcastic way possible. Imagine threatening to kill those people after kidnapping them less than a week ago, and now your life depends on them. Low blow, if someone asked her. "Sweetheart." He then smirked devilishly when he saw (Y/N) a little further back, resting her side on the kitchen counter. Surprised to see him and the way he calls her, she raises an eyebrow and gives a small, amused smile. "Hello Buggy."
"Arg, Doll! I'm so happy to see a beautiful face like yours around here." The clown shouts when (Y/N) comes out on deck after several hours organizing the pantries with Sanji. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye with a little smile on her lips when she leaves a snack for Usopp and goes towards the bow of the ship or, in fewer words = in the opposite direction to where her mere existence is spiritually needed. The clown is already tired of giving Usopp directions after all morning arguing where to go, so infatuated and hypnotized by the mysterious aura that surrounds the woman, he doesn’t give up, and his head floats in the direction of the girl, following her, resting right by her side as she sits on the ground, legs falling over the ship's railing and out to the sea.
"Pretty sure you didn't hear me back there" because the idea of someone ignoring him was unthinkable. A war crime. An insult to God itself. He was still Buggy The Clown, The Flashy Fool, even without his crew. Or his ship. Or his body. Fucking hell, what did he have left apart from the head? "I was saying I'm glad I'm not only surrounded by idiots. Having your beautiful face around here makes standing them much easier." He flirts, winking an eye, which (Y/N) doesn't fully get but finds kinda interesting. "We had a moment the other day, right? It wasn't just my imagination, I know it."
"Yeah, we totally had a moment" She agrees, clearly being sarcastic to everyone but him.  "You kidnapped us, you called me pretty, you searched me, I threatened you, you liked it..." she lists, lying her back on the deck, arms raised, own head resting on her hands, enjoying the breeze, the sun, and the smell of the salty water. 
"I loved it," he corrects her after emitting a little grunt of satisfaction, vividly remembering that scene. What would he not give to go back and enjoy it a little bit more before the rest of her crew ruined his entire day -week- so blatantly and unnecessarily over the top.
"You're welcome. Any time." She answers after an amused giggle, eyes closed.
"Don't tempt me."
"Now tell me," Buggy resumes the conversation after about 30 seconds of silence. He clearly doesn't know how to enjoy it. He is that type of person for whom silence not only makes him uncomfortable, but also terrifies him. Theatre kid. "What's a woman like you doing with a bunch of insufferable kids like them? I know they're trying to organize their boy band and go on adventures around the world, but you... you should look for someone more suitable to your needs, capable of giving you different stimuli. More mature." He adds in the end with a low, seductive tone of voice, shamelessly feeding on the image of the curve of her body now that she's not paying visual attention to him.
"Hmhm. Maybe I'll look for them." She answers nonchalantly, just because. She finds really entertaining this type of tug-flirting-war. Even if he's the only one that flirts and she just gives him opportunities to do so.
"You don't have to look too far." He was so cliché, how cute.
"You talk too much to be no more than a floating head."
"I could always put my tongue to better use." Snapping her eyes open, (Y/N) holds her breath for a second, taking in what she just heard = what he just offered. That would be, literally, giving head. In all the glorious sense of the expression. Raising both eyebrows, she turns her face on the ground to observe him, nibbling at her lower lip. She seems to consider it for a few seconds, because no, she cannot deny how interesting and, at the same time, weird, degenerate, the idea is. But before he has the opportunity to keep talking his way into convincing her, she breaks into a cruel smile and decides to cut his mood "You mean like guiding us to the Konomi islands instead of talking with me? You're right, you should get back to work."
He looks at her like he was just betrayed by his second in command, hoping she would agree by the expression on her face seconds ago, the way she looked at him and how she was biting her own lip in that tortuous way that pushed him to want -need- to do it by himself.
"Wait, no need to play difficult with me sweetheart, I--" But it's too late, (Y/N) is already standing, grabbing Buggy's head between her hands, and before he could add anything else, she winks at him, kiss one of his cheeks, screams at the top of his lungs "USOPP!! CATCH HIM!" and throws his head like she was playing volleyball, Usopp jumping to be able to reach him, both of them celebrating the pass like children, ignoring Buggy's complaints.
The third time he flirts -tries to- with her, she's back on the deck, helping Zoro and Sanji moving some things around. He begins to scream desperately, and knowing damn well that if no one pays attention to him he won't stop even if that means losing his voice, she approaches, hands on her hips, sighing as she looks at him like someone that is about to regret getting close to a crying, annoying child. "What's wrong with you?" she asks dryly, pressing her lips together. "Ah, my guardian angel. Could you do me the favor of scratching me behind my ear?" Oh. A waaay more harmless request than she expected. Of course, she relents, because she sees nothing wrong with this small favor; she’s quite the empathetic, and in his place she would surely prefer to jump headfirst -ba dum tss- into the sea rather than suffer that itch and not be able to scratch it. After granting his wish, just as she is about to leave, Buggy moves his head much faster than anyone would predict, to catch one of the girl's fingers in his mouth and suck and lick and nibble, in a… God, a sample of what he could do with his tongue somewhere else.
A shiver runs down (Y/N)'s spine, and it reaches a pleasurable end between her legs, causing her to press them together as she inhales deeply.
"Wanna see what else I can do?" He whispers as he releases her. She can hear him over the crash of the waves against the hull of the boat, eyes fixed on his face, will to complain nowhere to be seen. Bold, not in a hundred years she would have expected that. And for a moment, she is tempted. That has been undeniably attractive. And it had a really strong effect on her. "I would gladly show you if you let me, you just have to ask, sugar lips. I bet it's been a damn long time you don't treat yourself--"
"(Y/N)!!" Zoro calls her, instantly exploding the bubble between Buggy and her.
She sighs in relief because only God knows she was close to give up. Then swallows, shakes her head exaggeratedly to shake herself out of his spell, and, licking her lips, gives the clown a mischievous smile, recomposing herself. "Nice try"
"Stop trying to deny the obvious" He tried again for the... 5th time? She /really/ lost count during their journey. Appearing from nowhere, he startled her in the process. He was now in a shelf of the kitchen, at the same height as the girl's face. "The chemistry between us is unbearable, you can see it from miles away." Jumping to approach the edge of the shelf, his eyes look her up and down. "Turns me on how you play hard to get because I don't like easy things either, so I respect your game," he nods, raising an eyebrow "But come on... I know you like me. I've seen how you look at me or bite your lip when I flirt with you, you have nothing to be ashamed of."
This whole thing was really trying her patience. Not because she wanted to fuck him off, but because she knows that all that flirting would end with her giving in and doing something she certainly shouldn't. As of for now, he had gotten her to vaguely consider it, and she had to admit, she was growing some kind of attraction slash fondness slash crush for him, but it wasn't enough to fall to her knees.
He wanted war, tho? He would have it.
"You're right, I like you, but you know, I like my men body and all, capable of grabbing me by the hips and pushing me on theirs, to fuck me and make me scream their name until I lose my voice. To make it difficult for me to walk straight the day after." she whispers, approaching him slowly until they share the same air, her nose touching his red one. (Y/N) closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as her tongue caresses her own lips, almost touching the clown’s ones too. Yes, she likes him, she has some sort of twisted soft spot for men who ranged from intimidating psychopath to the most pathetic human being depending on the day, and Buggy was the perfect example for that. "And you..." she tilts her head to the side, attempting to close the distance between each other and kiss him, but at the last second she withdraws, leaving the poor clown with his eyes closed, waiting for the touch of her dreamy lips. "Unfortunately you're just a head."
"Try again when you get your whole body back!"
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luveline · 8 months
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can I request aaron with younger!reader who isn't really an affectionate pet names type and she just ends up calling him bro out of habit and he's just,,, so perplexed and sometimes a bit annoyed like 'im not your bro I'm your boyfriend'
thank you for requesting ♡
You thought that having a boyfriend would be fun (true) but that the pet names were a bit much (kind of). No matter how hard you try, you've never been the type to call a partner baby. Sweetheart, handsome, lover, none of it calls to you. It's not that there's anything wrong with sincerity nor showing someone you love them, but pet names are clunky in your mouth. 
Sometimes you have to say something, though. "Dude! What is this? Are you serious?" 
Aaron has presented you with a box of pyjamas. Some people might think pyjamas are a bad gift as an adult, but you're genuinely thrilled. They're a present for nothing, I was thinking of you. I thought you'd like them. 
Not everything expensive is good, but some stuff clearly is. "They feel amazing. What kind of material is this?" you ask, running your hand up and down the shirt. 
"I'm not sure. If you like them I can't get you more. I can get you a pair for every day of the week, if that suits you." 
Is he joking? "Aw, dude…" 
"Not sure I like that." 
You lift your head from the boxed pyjamas and smile at him with gratitude coming out the ears. He's really quite handsome, emphasised when he frowns as much as he might think otherwise, the longer strands of his hair curled gently over his crinkled forehead. 
"Thank you! Can I kiss you?" you ask.
His hand is warm on your cheek as you stand on tiptoes for a kiss. He's not that tall, and your weight has him bending backward, frowning into a short kiss. You dodge back to investigate. 
"Everything okay?" you ask. 
"Fine. They had different colours if you want something brighter, but you liked the lavender underwear–" 
"Bro," you say with a laugh. "Don't say it like that." 
"What is that?" he asks, his teeth not gritted but clearly visible, his frown bordering frantic. "I feel like I'm going insane." 
"What are you going insane over? I'm confused." 
"I'm confused. We are dating, aren't we?" Aaron asks. 
You grip the back of a dining room chair, fingernails rapping against the wood. "Um. I definitely thought so, but is that not what you think?" 
"And you're not angry with me?" 
"Angry? Aaron, I'm really sorry, can you just ask me what you want to ask?" You talk with absolute sincerity, perplexed, a smidge worried. 
"Why are you calling me 'bro'? And 'dude'? I'm not your bro, I'm your boyfriend." 
Agitation tinges his voice. It's clear that he's asking out of frustration rather than confusion; a man at the end of his rope. 
You hold your hands behind your back. "I'm sorry," you say sheepishly, "it's a bad habit. I do want to– I mean, I've thought about calling you nice stuff like you call me, but I've never done it before. It feels weird when I say it, like I'm playing dress up." 
A familiar hand in a familiar place, Aaron's palm tender against your cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm not mad," he says quietly. "I was hoping some new clothes might inspire some affection, but I shouldn't force it. You can call me 'bro'. It's weird," —he laughs, meeting your eyes with a tentative smile— "but you can call me anything. Maybe less 'bro'. 'Dude' is manageable." 
"It does inspire affection. You know. For the record." 
His laughter turns knowing. "I'll remember that." 
You lean in for another kiss. He's smiling this time, his lips parted ever so slightly. 
"What do you want me to call you?" you ask, your breath fanning against his mouth. 
"I'd say whatever feels right, but you might start calling me 'man', or 'my guy'." He chuckles at his own joke, hand needling behind your back to grab big handfuls of you almost greedily. 
It's going to feel awkward. Now or never, you think. "Thank you for the pyjamas, handsome," you murmur, spreading your hand against his chest. 
It's worth it to feel him take in a pleased breath. And it really, really suits him. 
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your geto fic is super cute 🥰 if you're taking more requests, may I request a sukuna fic please? maybe in an au where he's a gangster and reader is of a classy, rich family so reader's parents don't agree, but then sukuna appears in one of their events in a suit and looking dashing as ever!
ooooooooo it's 3 am but i have to write this down!!!!!!!!!
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shadows and silk.
summary: sukuna shows you and your parents that he is absolutely the right and the only man for you (whether they agree or not) genre: angst/fluff pairing: gangster!sukuna x female reader warnings: cursing, modern day au, not a great parent-child relationship, ooc sukuna
Masterlist
-----
your father doesn't even bother to hide his disapproval. "he has tattoos on his face. what if he's in the mafia- what have you brought our family into?!"
"father-"
"i am," sukuna clarifies, "in the mafia. my father is the leader. and one day, it'll be my time to lead."
your parents gasp in shock, surprised by sukuna's brashness.
"that wasn't a threat," he clarifies again, holding your hand. "i love your daughter, and i'd like to have a good relationship with you both. because it's important to her."
you smile appreciatively and grasp his hand, looking at your parents with hope.
"you're fucking insane."
-----
it was probably not the wisest decision to ask for your parents' approval, knowing what kind of people they are. being one of the richest families in the country, it's hard to have... any kind of life outside of what they had planned for you. like a pawn in their game of chess, your choices have been made for you since the very beginning.
unlike sukuna, you grew up "perfect". you aced your piano lessons, easily graduated from your violin school, and got straight As in all your grades. every day was the same for you; wake up, school, extra lessons, homework, sleep, and repeat.
that's actually how you met sukuna. one day, there was something wrong with the traffic so your driver was late. you'd been waiting for an hour, and sukuna just happened to finish his detention.
"hm?" his eyes caught you standing by the gate. "aren't you that rich kid?"
you looked up at him and analyzed his face -- high school student with face tattoos, you don't see that very often. "who's asking?"
"tsk, tsk." he chuckled, "so much attitude for a little person." he ruffled your hair before walking in the other direction. "wanna come? i'm gonna go have some fun."
fun... the word was so unfamiliar to you. you'd never talked to him before, and though it really was probably dangerous to just go with someone whose name you didn't even know, you couldn't help yourself. especially not when he turned around with a smile, urging you to come with him.
he took you to places you've never been before and made you feel things you've never felt. you felt free from your parents' chains, for once you felt like you could do whatever you wanted.
and sukuna was glad he could make you smile. you, the girl who always kept to herself in class, quiet, polite, almost scared. you made him feel things, too.
you got an earful from your parents that day, but the cute keychain sukuna won you from the night market was worth it.
now, the keychain hangs on your favorite bag, one that he also got you a few weeks ago. though you already have multiple designer bags that are much more expensive, the bag sukuna gave you was priceless.
"morning, baby." sukuna greets you, kissing your cheek.
"morning," you smile at him. "i'm sorry for how yesterday went. my father, he's-"
"let him be," he says. "nothing can keep me away from you, understand?"
you smile at his words and nod, "you better keep it as a promise."
sukuna smiles and kisses you, "i swear it."
he wonders what he could've possibly done to deserve someone like you.
-----
"what do you mean i'm getting married?"
your father sighs. "don't be difficult. the gojo clan is the most powerful, you should be thankful they're letting you marry their son."
"but father, i have a boyfriend, and i just graduated college! i- i can't marry, i still have so much i want to-"
"enough!" he yells, "you're marrying gojo satoru by the end of next month and that's final."
you're lucky that you have your own apartment. dialing sukuna's number, you get into your car and drive home where sukuna says he's waiting for you.
"ugh, unbelievable!" you throw your keys on the table, letting it slide off and annoying you even more.
he grimaces and sits you down, handing over a glass of water. "so it didn't go well..."
you sigh, "...they're arranging a marriage. with the gojo clan."
sukuna's jaw clenches, anger evident, but then it disappears. "that makes sense. they are the strongest and the richest."
"they're not giving me an option, like always-"
"gojo satoru is pretty handsome," he continues, "blue eyes, tall, quite built.. he's not a bad bachelor."
you squint your eyes at your boyfriend who seems like he's talking nonsense... or not really. "what are you trying to say?"
sukuna sighs. "we should break up."
the words that come out of his mouth after that are all blurry to you. something along the lines of...
"we've been together for years."
"it's time to get a fresh start."
"aren't you curious what it's like to date other people?"
"i'm getting bored to be honest."
and it all just seems like bullshit. bullshit because why is he looking at you like that when he's breaking up with you? why does he look like he's still madly in love with you and saying all that stuff is killing him?
why does he look like he's lying?
"tell me you're joking."
sukuna, unfortunately, doesn't humor you and leaves you alone in your apartment without saying anything else.
the rest of the month feels like hell. you tried running away from your parents, the guards they sent after you, but to no avail. somehow, they've repurchased your apartment and now you're back to living with them.
you met gojo satoru once throughout the entire month. he's decent, and actually a good guy like sukuna said, but he's not sukuna. he doesn't leave a random flower he picked up on the way to your place, he doesn't shower your hands with kisses when he sees you, and that's all expected -- because it's not supposed to be a loving relationship. it's a contract. once you marry him, your parents' company will merge with the gojos and become even richer.
today's the engagement party. your mother has chosen the perfect red gown for good luck, and she's made all the preparations for the party -- you, like always, never had a say in anything.
you feel like an object for them to trade with. compared to the gold bars sitting in their safe, you're probably worth less.
"i know you also didn't agree to this," gojo satoru whispers as you're both sat down in the middle of the ballroom while everyone else enjoys their meal. "but you look beautiful."
you offer him a polite smile, which turns rather sad. hidden in your sleeve is the keychain sukuna got you. your mother managed to throw away every cherished memory you had of him except for the keychain.
you wonder what sukuna is doing right now... if he's enjoying his life, if he maybe has a new girl by his side...
"sorry to shit on your party," your head snaps up the moment you hear that familiar voice, and a gasp escapes when you see the even more familiar tattooed face with pink hair. "but i'm going to have to kidnap your fiancee for a bit. maybe forever."
"..ryo." you stand up abruptly, letting your chair fall and hit the ground. he's dressed in a white suit, black vest, black shirt, and a matching black tie. he looks like he's ready to be your groom.
giving you the smile you miss most, sukuna stands in front of you and grabs your hand. "hi, princess."
"what are you doing here?" you whisper, tears about to fall from your eyes.
"saving my damsel in distress." he softens when he sees your lip tremble, kissing you gently. "i told you nothing can keep me away from you."
"but you-"
behind you, gojo satoru clears his throat, motioning to the many guards surrounding both of you, ready to pull you two apart by force.
"let my daughter go right now." your father demands.
you grasp sukuna's arm tightly, not planning on letting him go any time soon. in return, he has his arm around your waist, pulling you to him gently before he snaps his fingers, revealing rows and rows of armed men ready to fire.
the guards immediately stand down, obviously outnumbered. they let you and sukuna leave without a fight, and you stop for a second to spare a glance at your parents, looking at you disapprovingly.
-----
you're sitting on sukuna's bed. you've only been to this place a few times, considering he moves around a lot. he's helping you with the infinity amount of hairpins you have stuck in your hair while you take off the red gown you're wearing.
"ryo," you call him.
he hums to acknowledge you, mouth full of hairpins.
"...why did you break up with me?"
taking out the last piece of hairpin (he thinks it's the last), he throws them away before sitting behind you, arms snaked around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.
"i... i thought i was doing you a favor," he admits, "with my job... it's not easy being with me, you know? i'm scared you'll think i'm a monster for what i do - it still terrifies me."
"so i thought if i just pushed you away, it'll make things easier for both of us," his grip on you tightens, "but it didn't. at least not for me. and i know i'm being selfish here by wanting you back, i know i don't deserve it, but i just... i can't imagine living without you. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."
you turn around to face him, straddling his thighs and kissing him softly. "if being selfish means i'm stuck with you, then you need to be more selfish."
he grins, arms wrapping around you. "i love you."
"i love you more, ryo."
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al1fers-haven · 2 months
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I got a request that I think is pure evil
Alastor x Fem!Reader | Angst
Alastor has spent all his time in hell focused on himself and his power, but in the back of his mind, he always was on the lookout for his wife that he had when he was alive.
He tells himself that he hasn't found he because she's in heaven with his momma until she shows up at the hotel, but she has no memory of him (but it is her, Alastor can tell)
So he tries subtly reminding her, but she doesn't quite understand what he's doing.
If she falls in love again or if she does manage to remember is up to you ❤️
I RAISE YOU ON THIS HEADCANNON AND LABEL THE READER AS A FALLEN ANGEL!
"I KNOW YOU"
Alastor x wife!Reader
Prompt: For as long as Alastor has been in hell he didn't look for you. He assumed that you had gone to the pearly gates of heaven with his mother with the way you acted when you were married in your lives. He had tried to forget about it, no longer seeking you but still needing you one way or another. What will he do when you show up at the hotel with no memory of you two ever being married?
After everything Alastor had done in his life, he was sure he deserved hell. The moment he got there he knew that, and there was no way he wanted to redeem himself. In his own eyes, he didn't particularly do anything wrong, he got rid of of those pesky and awful men who thought with the wrong head or were horrible people. And there was nothing wrong with that.
The only regret he had was leaving you and his mother up there all alone to figure out his true hobbies, and while he was hoping he could see you down here in hell. He knew damn well that a sweetheart like you was never going to be in the place for the damned. As his time went on in the pits of hell, the less hope he had for seeing you again. There was no sign of you and thank the gods for that. He couldn't bear to see you in a place like this.
He let out a small hum, blinking a couple times as he was brought back to his current state, looking down at the vegetables he was cutting. His hands shook slightly as he put down the knife and leaned against the counter. That harsh feeling swirled in his chest once again at the thought of you, despite him knowing this was for the absolute best. He couldn't help but grieve your touch. Wanting to hold you one more time in his lifetime.
Maybe that was the purpose of his hell. Having to live without you? "Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" Alastor tilted his head, walking out of the kitchen and retying the back of his apron. His eyes squinted a little bit as Charlie brought you into the lobby, a small hurt smile brought to her face as she explained why she was there. "I- I fell...I know that there's a chance you won't even accept me but I had nowhere else to do!" A sob wracked your frame, your hands covering your face as the pale-skinned woman patted your back. "I heard you were Lucifer's daughter- so I thought maybe you guys would help me...?" Charlie nodded, a loud sigh leaving her as she looked around for someone to look after you for a bit while she grabbed Vaggie. "Alastor! Would you mind looking after her for a moment while I go find my dad and Vaggie?" He nodded, quickly being dragged over to you. His eyes continued to widen as he got closer and closer. "Uhm...Hello!" You waved to the deer man and smiled. His body ridged as he looked at you.
You looked almost the same as you did the day he died. "Y/n..?" You blinked a couple of times, folding your hands in front of you, and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, do I know you...?"
He never thought four words could hurt that much, his smile tightening as Charlie left the two of you there. A huff left his lips. "Oh...Uhm. Do you remember me?" You shook your head, brows furrowing in confusion as you took a closer look at him. "No...I'm afraid not. After I died I don't have much recollection of my life...I'm sorry." His shadow formed behind him, a small frown on it's face before it zoomed away to somewhere else. "Oh, it's uhm- fine. My name is Alastor dear! It's a pleasure to see you again!"
Alastors ears pinned to the back of his head as you shook his hand. His body wanted to lean into the warmth you emitted.
~!~
You were sitting down in the lobby, eyes scanning the book in your hands. Reading more about hell and what it was like before going out into the world.
Alastor stared from the bar, ears pinned against his head in a mopey way. "C'mon dude, you're practically undressing her with her eyes," Husk growls a little bit, staring at Alastor with a scowl. "Oh- Forgive me she just...She doesn't remember me." Husk raised a brow. "Remember you? Did you know her?" Alastor nodded, a huff leaving his figure as he took a sip of his Rye. "She was my wife- She was in heaven after I died she just...doesn't remember me." Husk nodded. Huffing and actually feeling a bit bad for the awful man in front of him. "Maybe remind her? Recreate scenarios you two experiences..it works in the movies and books." Alastor's ears perked up as he listened, looking around for any sign of a radio. "That's actually quite smart for you Husker." The cat-man growls a little bit. The radio on the table in front of you started to play the song, the upbeat jazz in the background bringing you small memories of when you'd dance with your friends at the old speakeasies, spending most of your time dancing and singing on stage with the rest of the ladies you worked with. "Hello dear!" Alastor appeared in front of you, a smile on his face like always, a small giggle leaving you at the sight of his dressed-down state. Just wearing a red and black turtleneck and some dress pants. "Care for a dance? My dear?" You nodded, standing up and patting down your dress before he quickly took your hand and spun you around. A loud genuine laugh left you as you danced with the man.
Laughter filled the room, the music in the background blaring as the saxophone filled it. "Oh! Oh my!" You placed a hand against his chest and you two danced. His tail moving behind him as he listened to you enjoy yourself. "Aren't you a smooth dancer!" he laughed a little bit himself, twirling you once again. Charlie watched from afar, a small smile on her face as she stopped angel from talking about the sight. "My dear it's not rocket science to dance, just to learn it!" You couldn't help but hum, the music coming to an end as you tried to keep dancing. Your hands rested on your head, the small headache you had from the dancing getting worse and worse. "Are you alright my dear?" You reached out for youas you sat down, eyes closed due to the pain. "My love?" "It's nothing...just a bit of a headache, don't fret too much over it." You smiled up at him, trying to keep a cool head. "I think I'm going to go back to reading, if you don't mind." He nodded with a sigh. Trying not to overthink it.
~!~ "Oh Alastor! you shouldn't of!" Alastor stood in your doorway with a nice plate of beignets. His ears pinning to the back of his head as you took the plate from his hands and swiftly invited him in to share them. "Oh how did you know! I haven't had any since I was alive, oh!" You placed them down on the little table you had, clapping as you sat down. "oh?" Alastor sat down across from you, his ear twitching a little bit. "Who was the last person who made them for you, love?" You thought for a moment, just remembering how they were placed in front of you. "I believe....my husband?" You looked down at your dress, trying to remember. "I didn't...know I had a husband.." He blinked a couple times, his heart speeding up more and more. "Well- don't think too hard about it little lady! Just eat up!" You nodded carefully and took a bite. Absolutely stunned at how delishes the sweets were. ~!~ " would you mind grabbing me a tea dear?"
Alastor nodded, the tea appearing on the table in front of you. "oh! Thank you!" "Anything for my dear!"
"Why, *****. Would you mind getting me the cinnamon? " You turned around, looking at the man behind you with a bright smile. His apron red with the words 'kiss the chef on it'. "Anything for you my dear!" He kissed your cheek and you giggled.
"You...did i know you when i was alive, alastor?" He stood still, charlie looked over and raised a brow. "What?" You blinked a couple times.
"I'm so sorry, i shouldn't ask. Uhm- you just remind me of someone...but I can't remember who that someone is.." You shook your head. Laughing a bit as you grabbed the tea and walked away.
Alastor stood in his place, a small twitch in his smile as his ears pushed against his head. A small hum leaving angels mouth as alastor grabbed his coat where his heart should be. ~!~
You looked around everywhere, trying to find the book you were reading and asking almost everyone if they had seen in. It was a little cookbook about new orleans' finest dishes. "Alastor- Dear, have you seen my cookbook?" You walked into the kitchen and hummed, looking up towards the red demon. He was standing over the stove. Some jazz playing from his staff in the corner of the room next to the fridge. He looked back at you and laughed a bit. "Oh! Sorry dear! I found it by the stove and decided to try out a new recipe of deer meat I had found! Do forgive me." You grabbed your head, letting out a small groan and stepping back. Looking at him still.
"Are you alright?" "Honey! Have you seen my gardening apron?!" You walked into the kitchen, a small frown on your face as you looked around for that as well before your husband turned around. A guilty look on his face. "I may or may have not mistaken it for my hunting apron! Please forgive me..." You laughed a bit, huffing and walking up to him with a loving smile. His hands covered in blood from the deer meat he had been making. "I forgive you of course...but my dear red suits you well." You untied the back of the apron and retired it for him.
"Mm, how are you feeling love? Not throwing up anymore?" You shook your head no. Leaning your head against your husbands shoulder as you watched him work away on dinner. "I think it's the Jambalayah love, maybe it is too spicey for me this time..."
"Alastor...do- do you happen to make jambalayah?" He nodded happily, clapping his hands together. "Yes! My mothers recipe of course, it's truly delicious!" You walked up to him and huffed. Standing in front of him with tears in her eyes. "And...you lived in a nice cottage...right? Next to lake....on the edge of town." His smiled dropped a little bit. His ears flattening against his head. "Did you shoot any dear tonight love?" Alastor walked through the door and hung up his jacket, a bright smile on his face as he nodded. "A big one! it's in the back of the truck love." You reached up and ruffled his hair. A laugh leaving his seemingly always smiley face. "Oh my dear you look so tired...why don't I run a shower for you?" Alastor hummed and wrapped an arm around your waist. "Only If you join meee..." You laughed and gently hit his chest. Shaking your head no as he pouted and followed you up.
"Just far enough from the town and just close enough to the stores..." He looked down at her with a soft look. "And just a drive away from the forest..." "Oh Alastor!" You hugged him, tears in your eyes as you held onto him for dear life. "Oh how I missed you my love!" Alastor hugged you back, nearly suffocating you with how tight it was. Laughter filling up the room as he picked you up and spun you around. "Oh my!" "Me and your mother were so worried after you had died- i moved in with her to take care of her but sooner or later i had died from-" You stopped that sentence. Sniffling a little bit and looking up at him. "well that doesn't matter..." You hugged him tightly again.
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