#its about the ''i failed this one thing early on enough times that i moved on to circle back later''

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Love being given the freedom to do whatever in a game. It means I do shit wildly out of order, massively underleveled, & The Coward's Way™️

In other news, I killed the bosses in the goblin camp by putting out all the lights in their rooms, blocking their undlerlings' paths to the signal drums, & making Astarion hide in the shadows I made to shoot them with his bow before initiative was even rolled

[catscidr]

Hiii I just found your acc and really like your stuff! Can I pls request lazy morning sex with Jing Yuan (and any character you think might fit this prompt) I just looked and there is not one fic like this of this man when he's like... right there. He's like so perfect for this scenario. Thank you sm and have a great day/night! <3

i just finished writing this its 3am i think i blacked out. everybody give it up for my man jing yuan i need himSO BAAAAD AAHHH i hope u like this nonnie ♡♡ cw: nsfw, mdni. semi-clothed sx, soft dom jy, clt stimulation, size kink if you squint, praise, pet names, slight overstimulation, cuddling n fucking face-to-face, riding, creampie. /not proofread ill do that in the morning. dies/ includes: fem reader, jing yuan, fu xuan mentionned wc: 3,2k

You loved and hated waking up next to Jing Yuan in the morning. On one hand, the rhythm of his beating heart lulls you to sleep, and he makes for a wonderful personal heater; but on the other... he’s a little too comfortable. So much so that every time you sleep with him, you, without fail, end up being late for work. That, or you barely make it in time. At times you would point your finger at him and accuse him of being a wholesome, sleepy version of an incubus, and he would laugh in that smooth, baritone voice of his. 

Regardless. 

This morning was one of those mornings, of course. Jing Yuan came back home for the first time in two weeks the night before- being the general of the Luofu means that he would occasionally have to leave for an unknown amount of time to take care of business. Every time he had to leave, you’d linger around him a little longer than usual, wrap your arms around him tighter than you normally would and let your lips linger on his cheek long enough for the sun to rise completely. 

He’d come back so late last night that you were already sleeping in your shared bed, legs haphazardly thrown over the bed sheets in a poor attempt to regulate your body temperature. The button-up shirt you wore made his heart lunge in his throat in the best way, but the last thing he wanted was to wake you. So, he’d carefully remove his armored uniform, take his shirt off and slip into the bed with you with nothing but his briefs on, and pull you into his chest. You had unconsciously nuzzled closer to him, your body craving the warmth of his body you had missed oh so dearly. 

Which explained the situation you were now in. The dilemma you found yourself stuck in. Jing Yuan was back; you had your face mere millimeters away from his plush chest, his arms held you tight against him, and his soft snores almost convinced you to fall back asleep. Keyword; almost. 

As much as you loved him you knew that he’d be here once you came back from work, so with as much resolve as you could muster, you try wriggling your way out of his grip. With him being as big as he was, though, it didn’t surprise you when he tightened his hold on you, treating you as if you were his plushie threatening to fall off his bed and he was a child.

You let out a quiet oof from his strong grip and reevaluate your options. There weren’t many options, but at least you had choices; either you wake him up, convince him to let you go and then get to work early enough that you don’t risk getting written up again, or you let him hold you and... arrive at work late. Again. Which was the last thing you wanted, given the fact that your boss had specifically told you that she couldn’t allow you to miss another meeting. 

Step one was to summon the ability to be even more stubborn than your lover. Step two is to carefully wriggle your arms up, high enough that you can move your hands and you can use them to your advantage against the beast. It took you some time, given the fact that they were stuck between his and your body, but you succeeded, nonetheless. And you only got one displeased grunt from the sleeping general in response. 

As you’re about to proceed with step three, Jing Yuan cracks an eye open and buries his head into the crook of your neck while curling into you, effectively trapping you between his plush muscles and the duvet. 

Could have gone better. 

“Jing Yuan,” you huff, your voice sounding more like a whine than anything. The general doesn’t respond, leading you to believe he fell asleep again, but his morning voice graces your ears before you have the time to curse him out. “Mhm, I’m up,” he hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck in a false apology. 

You wriggle in response, grunting from the sheer effort. One of the downsides that came with cuddling with Jing Yuan was the way he could keep you right there with him as long as he wanted, curse his strength. 

Seeing as he wasn’t going to budge, you decide that two can play that game. You stare into his silky mop of silver hair, pondering whether you should negotiate your freedom or if you should play dirty- but where's the fun in trying to talk your way out of this predicament? You bring a hand up to gently brush his bangs away from his face. He makes a soft noise of contentment at the feeling of your fingers delicately brushing against his face and, before he can grow too comfortable, you lean in and bite his cheek. 

The general makes a noise of surprise, grunting as he pulls away from you to narrow his eyes at his perpetrator. His pout morphs into a lazy smile as he holds your glare. “If you wanted to play you could have just said so, sweetheart,” he says lowly, moving his free hand from your back to letting it rest lazily on your hips, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the exposed skin. 

You stick your tongue out at him stubbornly, “Not now, I have to get up.” Unfazed by your headstrong attitude, Jing Yuan shifts one of his legs to come between yours- his strong thigh sandwiched between your soft ones. A surprised gasp leaves your lips in response to the smooth way he molds his body to yours, but you refuse to allow yourself to be swayed by him. 

“Aeons- ‘Yuan please,” you huff quietly, but he notices the way your voice catches in your throat. His golden eyes briefly shine with what could only be described as mischief and, with a smooth motion, Jing Yuan grabs ahold of your shoulder and swivels you around so that your back is against his chest. A surprised oof rips from your throat as you bounce lightly on the bed from the impact- he lowers his face to yours, a rich, deep chuckle echoing in your ears as your resolve begins to melt away. 

Taking advantage of the new position, Jing Yuan throws a leg over yours to trap you in and, in turn, grinds his growing bulge against your ass. If he wasn’t hard at the sight of your face in the morning when he first woke up, he sure was now; while he slowly ruts against you, he allows his hands to wander down to the hem of your shirt. 

You stifle a moan as the metaphorical dam in your head begins to crumble apart. Sure, you would see him when you would get back home later, but you were with him now. Laying here with your lover, safe and comfortable in his arms while his clothed erection lazily thrusts up into your heat. 

As you let out needy whines that you aren’t even aware you’re voicing, Jing Yuan brings his lips closer to your ear. “Five more minutes?” he asks with a knowing smile, his own breath becoming more and more rugged the more he rubs up against you. Gods, he could feel you throbbing through his sweatpants and your panties. 

You swallow thickly and whine in response, your head already fogging up with desire. Going a whole two weeks without sex wasn’t particularly hard; you had your trusty toy with you and your hands if it happened to run out of battery and you were that desperate. But you weren’t- and during these past two weeks you had felt just fine, totally not pent up or even the slightest bit sexually frustrated. Your job had kept you busy, but when you’re stuck in Jing Yuan’s arms after not feeling him for so long, after not feeling his cock twitching inside you, you felt like something snapped inside you.

Distantly, you think about how pathetic this must look for him; only a few lingering touches and his hips pressing up against yours from the back and that’s all it takes for you to drench your panties. But really, you couldn’t care less. You knew he was just as pent up as you were. 

You bring one of your hands down to fumble with the hem of your panties to quickly take them off, down your legs. Hearing Jing Yuan’s hoarse breathing in your ears only made you even more eager to feel his skin right up against yours. Maybe part of the reason why you were so incredibly turned on was because of how tired you still felt, but either way, you needed him. And he needed you just as badly. 

The general’s hands leave you temporarily to slide his sweatpants down to his thighs, low enough for his cock to leave its confines. Precum builds at the tip, swollen and pulsing with the need to bury itself inside you. He sighs, one of his hands coming up to stroke his length, thumb sliding over the slit every time his fist comes up. You whine at the loss of his hands on you and reach back to take his hand, bringing it between your legs to rub your clit. He laughs at your impatience, shifting his weight on his other arm to lean over you properly. 

“Someone’s impatient and greedy,” he goads. “I thought you wanted to get to work, darling,” he purrs in your ear, his middle and ring finger coming together to tease your bud, riling you up further and making a mess between your legs. A strained fuck leaves your lips as you back your ass up into him, his hard cock tucked between your thighs, rubbing into your arousal. “Please just-” a whimper interrupts you as Jing Yuan increases the pace of his fingers, “-inside. I-I need to feel you,” you huff, feeling too empty. He considers teasing you some more, listening to the wet sounds of your pussy bounce off the walls of your shared bedroom, but his own patience was also waning thin. 

A quiet noise of protest leaves you when the man takes his hand away from your bud. He brings his fingers up to his lips to lick your slick off of them, moaning at the taste. Your thighs clench in response, jerking the general’s cock unintentionally. 

“Fuck,” he growls into your ear, hurriedly taking his length into his hand to guide it into your soaking wet cunt. Your mouth hangs open when you feel his tip slip between your lips, needy noises slipping from your mouth. Inch after inch he sinks into you, slowly letting you accommodate to his girth. He finally bottoms out, stretching your hole as you keen and whine from the satisfaction of feeling so full. 

He waits a few beats to allow you to get used to him, your hoarse breathing matching his own. When he feels you clamping down on him less, he starts to thrust- pulling out slowly and thrusting back in sharply. You moan aloud, mouth agape as his cock bullies your spongy walls relentlessly. 

“Jing Yua-aan,” you whimper, hands gripping onto his forearms weakly, nails forming crescent shapes into his skin. He reduces you to a sleepy, blabbering, moaning mess as the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the bedroom. With one hand splayed across your lower tummy, he presses down, making you arch your back into him from the sudden added pressure and pleasure. 

“Y’ like that? You missed me, huh?” he taunts, though his own voice trails off into a needy moan the more he feels the drag of your walls along his cock. “I know I’ve- fuck, m-missed you,” Jing Yuan stutters, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he feels a familiar coil form in his abdomen. His thigh muscles clench as he wills away his orgasm, needing to feel you all around him for a bit longer. 

Unable to respond you simply nod dumbly, the words leaving your brain as it’s reduced to mush. Your lover hums, a smirk stretching his lips, “Yeah?” He brings his face closer to yours, your breaths tangling with each other before he smashes his lips against yours, the angle awkward and uncomfortable. But you don’t care- the added stimulation makes you melt as you crane your head back to kiss him properly, your lips occasionally leaving his from the force of his thrusts. 

Jing Yuan moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss. He looks at you with pure lust swirling in his golden eyes, your face sinful and needy. An idea pops up in the general’s mind and he smiles down at you, pressing one last chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“Ah, w-what are you-” you slur, your sentence interrupted by the general manhandling you to switch positions. He kicks the sheets off completely and places both of his large hands on your waist, gripping you firmly as he lays on his back, placing you on top him. His cock slips out of your walls with a wet shlick and you whine at the feeling of being so suddenly empty, twisting your body so that your thighs straddle his hips. Jing Yuan looks up at you with a small, cat-like smirk and your breath catches in your throat. 

His silky hair splayed out on the pillows beneath him, cheeks flushed, and eyes piercing into yours made your knees buckle and you suddenly froze in your movements. Feeling your pussy throb against him, Jing Yuan chuckles heartily, one of his hands leaving your waist to stroke his hard cock, your slick dripping down on him. 

“Lift your hips up and sit on my cock, darling,” he orders softly, a stark contrast to the way he looks at you- with pure, unfiltered lust and adoration. Your body moves automatically as you obey, hovering your tight pussy over his swollen tip, and lower yourself down. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, and you feel his girth stretching you out again as you begin to bounce on his hard cock. 

“Yeahh just like that,” he hums, the hand that held his length moving up to rest on your stomach, thumb jutting out to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. You squeak in surprise, your body jolting forward, and place your hands over his plush chest for balance. “Feels good, baby? Feel how deep my cock is?” 

A moan leaves his kiss-bitten lips and you swear you physically felt yourself get pushed closer to your nearing orgasm, the noises leaving his lips amplifying your pleasure tenfold. “Taking me so well, look at that pretty pussy,” he coos, and you keen as his half-lidded eyes burn into yours. He feels your walls clench in response to the praise and flashes you a dangerous smirk; he places his feet flat on the bed and tightens his grip on your waist to buck his hips up, making you topple over him. Your gaze is unfocused and blurry as you look down at him, heavy breaths leaving your lips, tears threatening to roll down your rosy cheeks from the pace he set. 

“And look at you,” he whispers lovingly under his breath. Jing Yuan throws his head back deeper into the pillows, keeping his eyes on you as he watches you lose yourself to the addicting feeling of his cock bullying your sopping cunt. “Y-Yuan,” you whine, your climax threatening to rip through you as you bite your lip to stifle your needy moans. He tuts, leaning up to bite your lip to pull you out of your pleasure-filled daze. 

“Pay attention to me darling. Thaat’s it, let 'em out for me.” The general huffs, brows furrowing in concentration to focus on the feeling of your warm walls surrounding him, sucking him in endlessly. His thumb presses down onto your clit roughly to bring you closer to your orgasm; you whimper in turn, a chorus of oh fuck and please’s leaving your puffy lips. “I-I’m so close,” you whine, eyelids fluttering shut as you feel your control leaving your body, the tight coil of your orgasm threatening to snap. 

Jing Yuan groans, hips bucking up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he keeps up the pace, persistent. “Come on, give it to me, pretty girl.” He coos, voice breaking into a whine, close to climaxing himself. His thrusts become sloppier, and he bites his bottom lip to stifle a string of hearty, needy moans. 

His hips still up into you as he cums, thick ropes of his seed painting your walls white. Jing Yuan’s thumb flicks your puffy clit until you climax as well, your cunt milking his sensitive cock. You whimper, feeling your clit buzz with overstimulation as he keeps rubbing it with purpose. “S-Stop, stooop,” you cry, your eyes burning with tears as the dull pain turns into pleasure, “Aeons you’re so tight.” Your lover slows down his movements, easing the tension in his muscles, until he stops circling your clit and gently places both of his hands on your waist. His hands slide up and down your sweaty skin, soothing the bruises that will inevitably form.

Your body slumps, exhausted and utterly spent, arms caging him as you rest your face in the crook of his neck. You both feel sticky and sweaty, but the warmth you shared made up for the need to jump in the shower to wash yourselves off. Jing Yuan shifts his hips so that his softening cock slips out of you; he inhales sharply, his cock still sensitive. 

“I missed you,” you mumble quietly, voice muffled from the way you're pressed into him and the pillows and press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Yeah? I never would have guessed,” the general chuckles, arms coming up to hug you tightly, one hand placed behind your head to cradle you close to him. You hit him with a huff but then sigh, content. 

“Mmh, but I missed you too, darling,” Jing Yuan replies softly. He holds you as your eyes droop, exhaustion taking ahold of your tired body. His own eyelids droop as he listens to your soft heartbeat, and soon enough, you’re both sleeping, legs tangled together while Jing Yuan’s strong arms keep you laid atop of him. 

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but you hear a phone ringing loudly in your ear, jolting you away from your peaceful dreams. You don’t recognize the tune, and as you’re about to wriggle your way out of the dozing general’s arms, he swings one arm over to the nightstand next to your bed and answers it without looking at the caller ID. “Jing Yuan speaking,” he says in a hoarse voice, eyes still closed. 

Even without his phone on speaker you could make out a very loud, very shrill voice from the other side of the line, yelling out two hours late, a single mission and get your ass over here. Jing Yuan doesn’t react, the same sleepy, cat-like smile on his face as he listens to the person rant. They eventually let up and hang up, saying something you couldn’t quite catch. Your lover haphazardly tosses his phone somewhere on the bed and loops his arm back around you, nuzzling into your neck. 

“Who was that?” you ask, voice cracking from how much you abused your vocal cords (apparently) two hours ago. He scoffs, amused, and pulls away just enough to speak clearly. 

“Lady Fu Xuan,” he says slyly. “I should get dressed before she decides to read into my divination and sees things she probably shouldn’t.”

[like-a-diamondinthesky]

the pepper thing | l.m.h

pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader tags... domestic fluff, established relationship, minho loves kisses so so so much

it's a routine, it's a tradition, it's a lifestyle. it's the pepper thing.

wc... 1.4k words a/n... this is inspired by a little something that @astraystayyh and i rambled about 🫠 i hope you enjoy it because i have not stopped thinking about this since it came into my mind!!! also thank you so much for 400 followers! almost halfway to 1k i'm mindblown tbh!

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Lee Minho is a morning person. He loves waking up early, making breakfast, playing with his sleepy cats, and watching movies. But most importantly, he loves kissing you awake.

Whenever the sunlight makes its way through the curtains and pries his eyelids open, Minho is more than happy to be greeted by your sleeping figure. It's the greatest way to start his day. He still remembers the first time you woke up next to each other—the day your little tradition began.

It was the morning after Minho had finally moved into your apartment. You had fallen asleep in your now shared bed, his arms embracing your body and pulling you to his chest. When he woke up, he had moved further away from you, not so much that you were no longer cuddling, but just enough so that he could see your face. The side of your face was buried into the pillow, squishing your lips into a slight pucker. Your hair was sticking out in multiple directions and your shirt was twisted. He thought it was the cutest sight in the world. Lord, he's whipped.

He watched your sleeping figure with so much love in his gaze, mapping out your entire face to store in his memory forever. As his eyes trailed over your every feature, they halted at your mouth, taking extra time to admire the curve of your cupid's bow.

Slowly, Minho found himself leaning in, pressing a kiss as light as air onto your soft lips. 'More,' he thought, 'I need more.' He moved his lips to the corner of your mouth, then to your cheek, then to your jaw, smothering your entire face in featherlight kisses.

"Baby, what are you doing?" you asked in a soft, sleepy voice. Minho had been pressing kisses to your collarbones at that point, but upon hearing your voice, he stopped and buried his face in your neck. Embarrassed, he mumbled, "Nothing..."

You giggled as he hid away and you teased him more. "Oh, you're just sooo in love with me aren't you?" Minho groaned. "You just have to kiss me 24/7, huh? You love me so much you can't keep your lips off me."

"Shut up, shut uppp," he whined into your neck, making you laugh even more.

"How about you make me?" You pulled him away from your neck, staring into his eyes as if challenging him to do something. He took you up on that challenge, crashing his lips into yours, shutting you up like you asked.

Ever since then, Minho has woken you up by peppering kisses all over you every morning with no fail. Sometimes, when you call him out on it, he'll just ignore you and continue kissing your body, too busy to do anything else.

It was a gloomy morning. In contrast to the bright, shining light that usually woke Minho up, the light pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window forced him out of his slumber. He opened his eyes to your back facing him. Your oversized shirt, which was originally his, was hanging off your shoulder, presenting him with a new opportunity. He pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, slowly trailing up to the back of your neck.

"Mmm, that tickles, baby," you whispered as he kissed the sensitive spot on your nape, but he wasn't paying attention to you, too preoccupied to process the words coming out of your mouth. Only after he was done pressing kisses to your backside did he greet you a good morning, but could you blame him? He just loves giving you kisses!

Every single day, Minho wakes up before you and peppers your face with several kisses like his life depends on it. At this point, it's become a necessity in your daily routine.

One morning, you miraculously woke up before your boyfriend. His hair was disheveled and his lips were parted ever so slightly. As he lay on his side, facing towards you, you couldn't help but notice his eyes. His long, pretty eyelashes were so perfectly scattered among his closed eyelids. You leaned in, your warm breath gently blowing against his lashes. You softly kissed under his eye, your lips tenderly brushing his face. Slowly, you peppered more kisses around his face, starting around his eyelids, then moving to his nose, then to the corner of his mouth. As you were about to connect your lips with his own, Minho opened his eyes, making contact with yours.

"Honey?" Your mouths were mere centimeters apart. "This is usually my job." You closed the gap and kissed him. Minho sighed sleepily into the kiss and you could feel a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Pulling away, you returned his smile. "I thought I'd mix things up," you kissed him again. "Why, do you not like it?"

Minho laughed a bit as you continued kissing around his face. "No, I don't like it," he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "I love it, and I love you."

This became your little tradition. Every morning, whoever woke up first would pepper kisses all over the other, starting the day with giddy smiles fixed on your faces. Even if you had fought the night before, it was all forgotten the moment you felt Minho's lips on your forehead, or the moment he felt your lips on his cheek.

Today, however, Minho woke up to your side of the bed empty. He furrowed his brows, disappointed at the unusual absence of the featherlight kisses all over his face. He dragged himself out of your shared bedroom, plodded around the apartment to look for you, and let himself fall back on the couch when he couldn't find you.

After about a half-hour, the front door opened and you entered your home, holding grocery bags in both hands. You set them down on the kitchen counter, peeking into the living room to see Minho watching something on the TV.

"Hi baby, did you sleep well?" You shouted from the kitchen, putting away the groceries. No response.

"Babe? Are you okay?" Nothing.

You walked over to where your boyfriend was sitting. His eyes were glued to the TV, not even sparing you a glance.

"Lee Minho," you said in a half-joking, half-serious voice, "did I do something wrong?"

Finally, he looked at you, lips contracting to a pout. He mumbled something so softly, you couldn't understand what he said. You sat next to him, taking one of his hands in your own. "Could you repeat that, baby? I can't hear you."

Pouting even harder, he repeated louder for you. "You didn't do the pepper thing."

You shot him a confused look, making him roll his eyes playfully. "The pepper my face with kisses thing! I woke up and you were gone, and you didn't give me any kisses at all."

You laughed incredulously. "Seriously, that's all you're sulking about?"

Unimpressed, Minho pulled his hand away from yours and crossed his arms. "It's a very serious matter, actually. You broke our morning tradition! You betrayed me!"

"I'm sorry for leaving without honoring our tradition," you smiled as he continued to pout at you, "but I went out to buy some ingredients so I could make breakfast for you. And, I even bought more of the new pudding you really like."

Though his eyes lit up at the mention of his favorite snack, a pout was still plastered on his face. "Okay, then. But you still have to make it up to me."

"Yeah? And how do you propose I do that?"

Minho looked you dead in the eye. "Do the pepper thing."

Still giggling, you placed your hands on either side of Minho's face, squeezing his cheeks and forcing his lips from a pout to a pucker. You kissed his forehead, then under each of his eyelids, then on the tip of his nose. "Feel better now?"

Shaking his head, Minho replied, "Not quite yet." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He pulled you by your waist, bringing you to his lap. You combed your fingers through his hair, tugging it slightly to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. When he pulled away from you, Minho had a lovesick expression written all over his face. "Now I feel better than ever."

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comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023

[ox1-lovesick]

✶ ─── TOMORROW X TOGETHER AND WHEN YOU LOOK MOST BEAUTIFUL TO THEM

pairing(s). txt x gn reader genre fluff warnings. none(?) wc. 100-200 each

type. headcannon , reaction

a/n. guess who wrote something *everyone applaud* please enjoy this I forced myself to write it because I haven't posted anything since queen elizabeth graduated high school 🥰

★ YEONJUN could already stare at you for hours on end — you always looked so effortlessly beautiful in his eyes, they can't help but wander back to take you in every now and then. You're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, but there's something different about you right now. About your furrowed eyebrows and small pout, about your fleeting gaze, stuck between your laptop screen and notebook as you read over the problem for the nth time hoping it will all magically make sense soon. You look outrageously adorable to him right now, laser focused on solving this equation of letters and numbers so you can move onto your next set of notes. He'd pull out a chair and sit next to you every time, resting his head against the palm of his hand as he watched while you busied yourself with whatever you needed to get done. Sometimes he'd sit and stare in silence, others he'd fondly brush the stray strands of hair away from your eyes so you don't have to, but every time without fail, his eyes would be trained on nothing but you.

★ SOOBIN loved taking care of his skin. It felt like a checkmark in his day, the last task at hand before he could melt into his bed and forget his worries until morning. He instantly felt lighter after taking all his make-up off and gently applying his moisturiser, but doing it with his favourite person makes just that much better. He especially loves when he doesn't have the energy to do it himself, leaving you to do it for him. Fingers gently tapping the products into skin with care, with the occasional kiss on his nose, but what he loves most of all is the sight of you, bare faced and sleepy. Some days he'd feign exhaustion just to stare into your eyes and hold your waist while you massage serum into his skin. He loves you no matter how you look of course, you're always beautiful to him. But being barefaced with each other is intimate, especially when he has to look his best everyday

★ BEOMGYU was never fearful about the sun exploding in 70 something million years, why would he be when he had the replacement right in his arms. Your smile was more than enough to sustain life and light up the solar system. His theory may not be scientifically correct, but in his eyes, it was simply the truth. What a heinous crime it is that you don't own multiple peace prizes for this sight alone—it never failed to make his heart beat out of his chest every time you graced him with its presence. He gets teased to no end by the guys for being horrendously down bad and staring at you with 'goo goo' eyes whenever your lips curl upwards, but how could he help himself? He's sick in the head, mind stuffed full of you and that pretty smile. It's his kryptonite, his one and only weakness, and no one knew it better than you after walking home hand in hand with your brand new jigglypuff plushie and -62837 won in Beomgyu's wallet.

★ TAEHYUN was so weak for things like this. Even under all those muscles he spends hours perfecting at the gym, he's rendered completely and utterly powerless. Weak for holding you closer, weak for pressing a kiss to your forehead, weak for you nuzzling your head further into his chest, weak for falling asleep with the person he adores more than anything next to him, safe and sound in his arms. He always fell asleep much later than you, because he has no self control and can't help but stare. Ever since he'd met you, he's become a morning person. Not because he enjoys starting his day early to be more productive (or to spend another 86 years in the gym) but because he gets to wake up like this. Your limbs tangled in each other, soft breaths against his neck, covered in the warmth of his duvet and comfort of each other. And if you'd allow him to, he'd spend every morning like this for the rest of his life, and die a happy man.

★ HUENINGKAI is a fan-favourite. And while his band mates make it well known who their favourite maknae is, for the sake of their feelings he tells them he loves them all equally, and keeps his favourite a secret. A secret from everyone but you, who just so happens to be said favourite. And his favourite sight on his favourite person? The face you made when he revealed his secret to you. The way your eyes widened, the knowing smile that crept its way onto your face, your nose scrunching in delight, if he could have that moment tattooed on the inside of his eyelids, he'd probably forget what the world looks like from having his eyes closed all the time. He loves this look on you, how excited you get when talking about the drama going on with your classmates or your masterplan to take over the world. Your eyes twinkling and hands flying all over the show because your emotions are just too strong to keep them confined. It might just be his favourite sight of all time, and while he's itching to screech about how adorable you are, he'll keep it his little secret for now

★ OX1-LOVESICK all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, translate, alter or repost my work without my explicit permission.

[tsumtsumrry]

Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry. 

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face. 

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet. 

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips. 

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is. 

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it. 

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back. 

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways. 

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm. 

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple, 

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him. 

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it. 

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff. 

When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact. 

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan. 

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.” 

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more. 

“Show me. Take me home, H.” 

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt. 

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it. 

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips. 

“Whatever you want. Kiss?” 

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle. 

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something. 

“Harry…” 

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter. 

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you. 

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter. 

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly. 

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement. 

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.” 

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie. 

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips. 

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time. 

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly. 

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top. 

“Wanna be my sous chef?” 

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry. 

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.” 

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed. 

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.” 

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–” 

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?” 

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.” 

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you. 

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?” 

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out. 

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly. 

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes. 

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles. 

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there. 

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone. 

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around. 

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes  a mental note to check on you later. 

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer. 

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at. 

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears. 

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers. 

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable. 

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.” 

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.” 

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy. 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end. 

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out. 

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?” 

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response. 

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.” 

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch. 

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him. 

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?” 

“See you soon, petal.” 

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry. 

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs. 

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder. 

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response. 

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that. 

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face. 

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.” 

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth. 

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out. 

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you. 

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group. 

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love. 

Dangerous. 

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.” 

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips. 

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.” 

Ever the flirt, he is. 

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know. 

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.” 

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him. 

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him. 

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches. 

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit. 

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there. 

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess. 

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands. 

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.” 

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.” 

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh. 

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night. 

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are. 

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.” 

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.  

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit. 

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind. 

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for. 

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage. 

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in. 

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner. 

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice. 

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it. 

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger. 

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under. 

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind. 

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.” 

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.  

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. 

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family. 

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times. 

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face. 

Uh oh. You know that expression. 

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?” 

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind. 

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.” 

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

  Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow. 

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face. 

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims. 

Your smile drops. 

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore. 

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date. 

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman. 

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless. 

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone. 

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse. 

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over. 

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break. 

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.” 

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go. 

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,”  you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.” 

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home. 

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes. 

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say. 

“I want you to meet—” 

You can’t do it. 

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up. 

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now. 

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears. 

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt. 

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry. 

December 24, Christmas Eve. 

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside. 

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die. 

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day. 

Harry. 

Over and over again. 

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good? 

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me. 

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please? 

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me. 

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did. 

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried. 

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead. 

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back. 

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me. 

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more. 

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and  go to open it nonetheless. 

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door. 

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here. 

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck. 

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put. 

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―” 

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.” 

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.” 

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―” 

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.” 

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters. 

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face. 

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest. 

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours. 

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips. 

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes. 

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it. 

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t” 

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little. 

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—” 

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression. 

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed. 

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication. 

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–” 

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away. 

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply. 

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs. 

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout. 

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind. 

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time. 

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word. 

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes. 

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels. 

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours. 

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you. 

“I know, I know H.” you nod again. 

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much. 

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?” 

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist. 

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies. 

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear. 

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will. 

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks. 

“Do me a favor, honey?” 

You nod eagerly. 

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action. 

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts. 

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting. 

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.” 

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage. 

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased. 

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?” 

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?” 

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are. 

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you. 

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well. 

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.” 

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat. 

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?” 

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking. 

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good. 

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.” 

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you. 

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips. 

“Did such a good job.” 

“M’so proud of you.” 

“You come so pretty.” 

“So beautiful.”  

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come. 

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face. 

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye. 

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is. 

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit. 

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”  

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?” 

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later. 

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.” 

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home. 

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit. 

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop. 

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before. 

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?” 

“Meant what?” 

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.” 

December 31st, New Years Eve. 

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist. 

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried. 

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks. 

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life. 

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him. 

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks. 

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you. 

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look. 

“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb. 

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold. 

9

8

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look. 

6

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?” 

4

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”

[chaoticharrington]

Chapter One: Professor Harrington and Mr. Munson

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not much...YET.. lots of smutty smutt smutt to come. Vague mention of depression/ bad childhood/anxiety , mention of drug use/ cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being hot, Reader is in their mid 20s and Eddie and Steve are early to mid 40s

**THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND PROBABLY BLOCK. DM FOR ANY QUESTIONS**

Summary: Reader moves to the one and only Hawkins, Indiana and meets her sexy new sociology professor and realizes she might have a crush on her best friends dad..oops

Authors Note: Hi folks!!! this is so nerve wracking i've never really properly written for either of these characters before except in my head and reading lots and lots of smut! I really hope you guys like it, i'm really excited for what's to come for this series, I haven't thought of a name for it yet so i'm just going to go chapter by chapter but its gonna be a fucking wild ride so buckle your seat belts :) 4k words (Also older Eddie pic by the lovely @eddiemunsons-missingnipple )

**Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four**

Were you doing the right thing? Could you do this on your own? What if you failed?

Your head filled with doubt now that your dreams you’ve had since you graduated high school were now coming to fruition. You saved up all the money you could, working odd jobs for a few years after high school to have enough money to get out of your hometown and into a good college states away.

You shake away all the negative thoughts, no. This had to work you were going to make sure it worked. This is your new start, to create your own life. It had to be better than back home, where no one gave a shit about you and your own parents didn’t care enough to stick around after you graduated high school, not that they were the most involved parents to begin with anyways. Even the friends you had back home were just party related or friends of friends, you were always on the outside looking in, never properly fitting anywhere. The only reason you decided to move specifically to Hawkins was because your only real friend, Violet, that you’ve had since you were 12 had moved here 10 years ago and you’d made a pact long ago that if you ever got out of that town, you’d follow her here.

You pinch your fingers to the bridge of your nose, willing the thought of your parents and back home to go back into the little dark corner of your brain. You can’t breakdown now, not right before your first class, how pathetic would that be?

“Focus focus focus, come on you got this.” you muttered quietly to yourself over and over until the anxiety subsided. You take a deep breath, willing your lungs to fill with air to cool down your buzzing insides. You look in your car mirror to make sure your makeup still looked good and fidgeted with your clothes.

You were never one to obsess over your appearance by any means, but you really wanted to make a good first impression. You had your hair pulled up into a butterfly clip and had on your favorite dress a pair of black tights and your trusty Dr. Martens. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and grab your bookbag and get out of your car. You look on your phone to triple check that you were in the right place, the last thing you needed was to be lost or even worse late to your first class.

You’d only moved into your apartment off campus the day before so you haven’t had time to look around the town or get used to your surroundings yet. You noted that your car didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Your car was a few years old and was always something of an insecurity for you. But most of the cars that filled the almost completely full parking lot were older or used cars, which put you at ease. You head into the Humanities and Social Sciences building and check for a fourth time, Sociology 101 room E142 Professor Harrington.

The room is much bigger than you thought, chairs and desks circling the podium at the front of the room. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the room was only half full of other stressed out looking students preparing for their day ahead. You decide to pick a seat towards the middle of the room to not look too eager.

As you’re getting your laptop and books out of your bookbag you hear footsteps walking into the room and the girls behind you immediately start giggling and whispering to each other. You look to see where they’re looking hoping they aren’t making fun of you, you see them biting their lips and looking at the front of the class. You follow their eyeline and your breath hitches.

Where your sociology professor should be standing is an Adonis, he has thick honey brown hair, peppered with grey, that frame his handsome face. His skin impossibly sun kissed like he’d just come back from a tropical island and not living in Hawkins, Indiana. He smiles nervously at the class; his smile is warmer than the sun despite his nervousness, warming you from the inside out. He’s wearing a white button down covered by a navy blue sweater, a pair of grey slacks and black high top converse.

“Ahoy folks! Are you guys ready to set sail on this vast ocean called Sociology with me? I’ll be your Captain Professor Harrington!” he claps his hands, his eyes waiting and hoping for a response.

The girls behind you giggle and a few other students around the room follow suit, he sighs contently. He goes onto explaining the syllabus and assignments for this semester. The class flies by, he’s easy to listen and pay attention to, sure his looks help but he seems genuinely interested in what he’s teaching. Which is a breath of fresh air, you diligently take notes, making sure not to miss anything. Before you know it, class is over and people start packing up their things.

“Oh class before I forget, if any of you are commuters, come get a parking pass from me unless you want a ticket.” he announces to the class, most of the class you assume living in the dorms hurry out of the room.

“Because not only are we charging students tuition we are also charging students just to park on campus, capitalism at its finest folks,” he snorts, shakes his head, and walks to his desk leaning against it.

After finally putting all your things away and checking where your next class is you head up to him. Just being near him makes your heart beat a million miles a minute, like your unworthy of being in his presence let alone so close to him.

He smiles warmer and wider as you stand in front of him, “Hey what can I do ya for?” he asks brightly.

“Oh, uh, I just need a parking pass if that’s okay,” you say quietly.

“More than okay my dear!” he declared. You blush at his words while he picks around in his desk drawer for a parking pass. His nose scrunches up in frustration as the digging becomes hastier and more urgent.

“I coulda swore I put em in here… or did I leave them in my office?... shit,” he breathes.

You giggle at his disorganization, and he looks up at you embarrassed, you wondered how a man who looks like how he does could ever be embarrassed about anything. The girls who sit behind you would agree.

“I promise I’m not usually this discombobulated.. just uh first days always come sooner than I think.” he chuckles

You nod knowingly at him “No worries I can always get it tomorrow or something.” you say waving his worries off.

He looks up at you through his glasses relieved “Really? That- that would be amazing. I would go grab them from my office, but I don’t think I have enough time to before my next class.” He studies you for a second like he’s actually looking at you for the first time.

“What’s your name again hun?” he says casually, as he opens his computer and types on his keyboard.

Your heart flutters at the continued use of nicknames, you take a second to study him again before you respond. He’s hunched over his desk, typing and clicking away on his computer like he’s searching for something. His eyes crinkled at the edges with age, memories of many days smiling and being in the sun. You notice his freckles that adorn his face and neck that you couldn’t see during class. If you had it your way, you’d take your time to count them all to try and make sense of his godly beauty. And his hands.. his hands look so strong effortlessly gliding across his keyboard.

You must have taken too long to answer because he looks up at you expectantly and raises his eyebrow and smirks. You shake your head slightly trying to regain your composure.

“S-sorry first day jitters, my heads a bit scrambled,” you confess to him. You tell him your name quickly, you hoped that your cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt.

His eyes softened a bit and nodded and continued to type on his computer for a couple more seconds before turning to you again.

“I emailed campus security to let them know that it’s my fault you don’t have a pass and if they do give you a ticket just bring it to me and I’ll sort it out for you, okay?” he states and steps away from his computer to face you again.

“Oh wow thank you so much Mr. Harrington, I really appreciate it!” you chirp

His face scrunches up at the name, and chuckles, some of his honey brown hair falling in front of his face, his hand ready to catch them and put the strands back in place. You were mesmerized.

“Uh Mr. Harrington is my father, call me Steve er Professor Harrington works to if you don’t want to be on a first name basis.” He says kindly

“Oh well thank you regardless…Steve.” his name sounds foreign but good on your tongue. You stare at your shoes and then realize that you’ve been in here looking at your professor for far too long.

What the fuck were you thinking? He probably thinks you’re insane but is too nice to say so.

“Ya of course,” he dismisses you easily.

“Anyways I don’t wanna keep you, have a good day,” you apologize.

"You too Y/N,” he calls, as you head out the door, glad that your back is to him so he can’t see you blush again just because he said your first name.

“Get it the fuck together.” you mutter to yourself as you walk aimlessly out of his classroom.

The rest of the day goes without a hitch, you find yourself actually excited for the upcoming topics in your classes. You’ve never given yourself the opportunity to properly nerd out about the things you’re interested in.

You finally get back to your car after all your classes and groan at the sight of a ticket stuck onto your windshield.

“Fuck…” you whine

Too tired to get it taken care of today you drive home and plop on your bed. Even though your classes were super interesting, it was very mentally draining. Extra draining because you’ve tried to force your brain to focus on classes and not think about your sexy sociology professor.

Was he this nice to all his students? Did you catch him eyeing you up while you were talking or were your eyes playing tricks on you? You keep trying to reassure yourself he is just really nice. But his hands… his smile…

You groan and rub your hands against your face trying to shake all the whirling thoughts out of your head. You force yourself to think about literally anything else, then your tummy rumbles. You haven’t had time to grocery shop considering you had just moved in yesterday and your fridge was completely empty except for some bottles of water and condiments.

Your phone buzzes next to you on your bed, you open it and smile.

“BITCHHHH I MISS U COME OVER! You’ve been in Hawkins over 24 hours & ive gotten radio silence from u! ur presence is being requested in the munson household immediately!

P.S Bring food my dad is starving me over here”

“At your service m’lady, cheeseburgers good?” you respond quickly

“ur a life saver babe<3”

Your mind drifts away from your professor and the ticket that is burning a hole in your bookbag. This place already feels more like home than any time you’ve ever spent where you were born. You missed your best friend so much. Violet Munson has been your ride or die best friend for as long as you can remember. You two became friends when you were sitting alone in the lunch room one day and she came and sat right down next to you and you two have been inseparable ever since… that is until her dad decided to move her back to Hawkins to be closer to family after the divorce right before freshman year. You had been crushed getting your best friend ripped away from you like that, but then you guys made the pack to get out of dodge when you could, and now you’re here… in Hawkins,Indiana.

You change into comfy clothes and grab some cheeseburgers, fries, and onion rings from the only burger joint in town and headed over to the Munson residence. You’ve never actually been to her house before because your parents never allowed you to visit after she moved away, so you two mostly kept in contact over constant texts and lots of facetiming.

Pulling up to her house you were more nervous than you thought, you hadn’t seen her in so long and hoped things wouldn’t be awkward. You turned off the ignition, grabbed the food, and went to open your door when you heard a scream come from the front of the house. You lift your eyes to see your best friend jumping up and down on the front porch in her pajamas. Violet had long bright purple hair and thick black eyeliner, kind eyes, a wide smile, and an infectious laugh.

“YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE REALLY FUCKING HERE HOLY SHIT!”

You laughed and dropped all the food in the front seat of your car and ran to meet her in the middle of her lawn and tackled her to the ground. You hugged her tight, squeezing your eyes together wishing the tears at the corner of your eyes to go away.

“Vi I missed you so fucking much.” you whisper

“Awe babe I missed you too.” she shares

You both get up off the grass and you grab the food and head inside. You set the food down in front of the tv like you used to do when she lived closer to you. You sit down on the couch and while she grabs plates. You sigh deeper into the couch, everything was just picking up exactly where you two had left off, you were gonna be okay. You smile quietly to yourself and then head to the kitchen to help her bring everything into the living room. You decide to watch a new horror movie that just came out, the two of you always bonding over everything creepy and spooky. You let Violet tell you about her partner Quinn, who she met a few years ago and was head over heels in love with.

Then the front doorknob jingled, and you heard the familiar thud of heavy boots.

“Ho- holy shit is that Y/N?!”

You turn to face the familiar voice at the door. “Hey Mr. Munson, long time no see!” you breathe.

Fuckk… when did Vi’s dad get so... hot?... what the hell is wrong with you today? First your sociology professor and now your best friends DAD?!

He grins widely at you just like his daughter, he shrugs out of his boots and walks into the living room.

“I got you a cheeseburger on my way over, still like double meat and cheese on your burger?” you question.

Mr. Munson puts a hand over his heart and falls into the love seat next to the tv.

“You remembered, I’m touched sweetheart.” he beamed.

“oh yeah no problem at all!” you blush.

“Well I’ll let you guys catchup, don’t need me harshing the vibes, Vi’s been nonstop talking about you coming to Hawkins  a month!” he chattered

Out of the corner of your eye you see Violet roll her eyes at her father.

“Dad no one fucking says “harshing the vibes” anymore or at all, you’re aging yourself old man,” she chortles

Mr. Munson chuckles and puts his hands up in the air in surrender “Alright alright I’m leaving, if you guys need anything I’ll be in the garage. Thanks again for the burger Y/N!” he says kindly holding up the burger in one of his large tattooed hands.

You beam up at him happy to help, and this time you get a good look at your best friends dad. He’s aged so much better than you could ever imagine a man with Mr. Munsons lifestyle to ever age, the expression aged like fine wine captures it perfectly.

His brown hair still wild and curly as its always been but tied up into a low bun at the base of his neck. Only difference is the now visible little grey streaks that run through random curls. He has more laugh lines at the side of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Still wearing his normal garb, black jeans with loads of rips, a band tee with a leather jacket. His chocolate brown eyes still full of mischief and debauchery. His nose ring ever present but you spy a few more additions to his tattoo collection, specifically a new neck tattoo and a few more on his hands.

Fuck his hands… wait you have to answer him. Answer him before it’s weird that you’ve been staring at him so long.. you’re really on a fucking roll today.

“It was my pleasure Mr. Munson really,” you gush.

He gives you a wink that goes straight to your core and vibrates in your bones and heads to the garage.

Violet didn’t seem to notice how flushed you were, eyes still on the screen, interjecting at random times when a scene looks to fake or when the blood splattering doesn’t look real enough.

After the movie the two of you head upstairs to Vi’s room, she wanted to show you her new additions to her every growing crystal collection and a few polaroid pictures of her and her partner.

“They literally make me feel like a princess I feel so lucky, for our 3 year anniversary they gave me these black tourmaline pentagram earrings, aren’t they so cute?!”

Your heart fills with warmth, Violet has always been loud and unique, you are so happy for her that she found someone who accepts her for who she is and loves her for it.

“That’s really sweet Vi, i'm so happy you have them, and that they treat you so well,” you grin.

“Thanks… what about you though? You’ve always been very singular… looking to change that any time soon? You deserve to be happy babe, even if it just means getting laid you deserve to get some. You’re a fucking catch dude” ,she compliments

“I mean you know I had a thing with Dylan for awhile before he got back with his girlfriend...” you murmur

“Oh COME ON, you know that’s not what I mean, not some assholes rebound!” she insists

“Vi I don’t have a line down the block like you used to have, you’ve got that whole hot sexy goth girl shit going on, I’m just me.” you babble and point to your gorgeous best friend

“What about Tom? You were with Tom for a long time what happened with him?” she asks obliviously.

“Fuckin cheated on me,” you sigh. Re-living your lack of romantic endeavors to your very not single best friend being up there in the top 10 most pathetic things to date.

“Oh fuck that guy, how fucking dare he!” she sneers while she tries to light the perfectly wrapped blunt in her hand.

“Shit I think my lighters dead, can you go ask my dad if he has an extra?”

You nod and head downstairs and search for the door that leads to the garage, finally you find the door you’re looking for and the image in front of you almost makes you audibly gasp.

Mr. Munson has a cigarette between his lips hes strumming along to some metal song that he’s humming the tune to, occasionally sucking in smoke and blowing out the side of his mouth. His head bobbing to the tune of the song completely in his own world. He’s beautiful.

You look at the way his fingers move to the beat and strum the strings on his guitar, mesmerized by how pretty they are. You can see all the calloses on his hands from all of the years of playing.

Your hand moves without thinking and knocks on the side of the garage door, getting Mr. Munsons attention.

“Oh shit, hey honey, ya need something?" He questions

“oh yeah sorry, Vi’s lighter ran out, and we were trying to light a blunt, you got an extra?” You ask.

Growing up, Mr. Munson had always been the more laid back between Violets two parents, letting her test the waters herself allowing more than the normal parent would. But as long as she was being safe and not doing any hard drugs he was mostly lenient with her. Not that it mattered much now that she’s grown.

“Uh yeah I probably got one around here somewhere, come pop a squat while I look.” he gestures to the chair beside him.

Your legs wobble while you move into the garage, it smelled so uniquely of him. His leather jacket draped over the back of his chair, smoke in the air, and metal music playing lowly in the background.

His space made you feel at home, the garage door was open so you could see the sun setting in the sky, and the metal music is weirdly comforting. You find yourself tapping your feet to the beat.

Eddie went to his truck looking for an extra lighter and your eyes wander to his guitar. You can tell he really cares about it, its clean, the strings look freshly changed, and recently polished.

“Oh yeah she’s a beaut isn’t she?" He observes proudly, leaning against his car with a new found lighter in hand.

“Yeah really pretty Mr. Munson,” you remark.

He smiles at you, “Here ya go, I don’t know how much juice is left in it.” He hands you the lighter, for the few seconds your hands connect you see how much bigger his hands are than yours, it almost makes you topple over in your chair.

“Thanks,” you reply. You grab the lighter with your hand and put it in your pocket and push out of the chair headed back into the house.

“Were you always this shy?” he asks inquisitively.

You turn around to face him confused by his question, you never really considered yourself shy, it just takes some time for you to come out of your shell.

“Shy?” you reply. fidgeting with a loose string on your sweatpants, your lips in a fine line.

“Yeah..you just seem.. shy or sad maybe, you doin okay?” he presses

You sigh hard trying to find the right words to explain the last few years and what would be appropriate to share with your best friends dad. “I’m fine really, just a long few days.” you share and smile to try and make it convincing.

He clicks his tongue and you know that he doesn’t believe you, your heart sinks. You never want to put your sadness or hurt onto anyone else, you’re a big girl and you can handle it on your own. You change the subject to the empty beer glass on the table in front of him, “Need another beer?” you ask

“Read my mind darlin, thanks,” he replies.

You head to the kitchen to grab him his beer and head back to the garage to bring it to him. When you get back he’s back at it strumming on his guitar in his own world, you wish for a second maybe you could just sit in his little world with him, it’s quiet and peaceful, no thinking required. You set the beer on the table and turn to head back upstairs.

“Hey Y/N, if you need anything or even just to talk I’m around, I know I’m not Violet, but if you need another friendly face, I’m here.” he smiles warmly at you.

Your heart melts, of course he’s the sweetest man in the whole world. “Thank you Mr. Munson that really means a lot,” you blush. Thankful to have one more person in this town on your side.

You close the door behind you and rush back upstairs hoping Violet doesn’t notice how long you’ve been gone. You hear voices and giggling on the other side of the door,

She’s on the phone with Quinn.

“She’s returned! Come here I want you to meet Quinn!” she exclaims. You breathe out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, no excuse necessary. Your friendship with Violet has always easier than breathing. You spend the rest of the night smoking weed and talking on the phone with her partner, glad to have the distraction from your recent interaction with her dad.

Did he really mean what he said? Or was he also just being nice? I guess he kind of has to be nice to me, being his daughters best friend. Plus he’s so out of my league, a man like him would never go for a girl like me, right?

Only time will tell.

***Reblogs/comments are appreciated***

No Pressure Tags!: (Just tagging some mutuals I thought might enjoy!) ** If you wanna be tagged in the next fic lemme know**

@untitled74745 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @munsonology @lesservillain @tlclick73 @dukesmebby @cozyquinn @rowanswriting @succubusmunson @teddyeyeseddie @lofaewrites @chaoticmunsons @ryan-waddell11

[504py]

Its me again (i hope you don't mind i am in you ask again 😅)

So uh do you have headcanon for yandere russia and canada with their s/o?

Thx 🌻

holy SHIT i got carried away 😭😭😭 this was supposed to be a short post, but i got too deep into their characterization. and don't worry!! i appreciate your asks! anyways, here we go guys... please heed the warnings!

Yandere Russia and Yandere Canada Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, domestic violence, implied NSFW, self-harm, manipulation, forced feminization, dubious consent, stalking, long post ahead!

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

Russia

How the relationship started

Your relationship with Ivan first started with you doing some mundane thing, but he was there at the right place and the right time, and something about you intrigued him. Be it at a restaurant eating a strange food combination, seeing you early in the morning with your hair wet and rushing to get somewhere, or even getting a glimpse of your mismatched socks when you walked past him and didn't even pay him any mind. That was enough to seal your fate as his property. His mind can't seem to stop running with thoughts of you, how are you, why are you, and he needs to scratch that itch.

Ivan sends out a private investigator to stalk you basically, and provide him with your daily schedule. Once Ivan has your schedule, he dismisses the investigator, and takes matters into his own hands by stalking you himself, and trying to insert himself into your daily life.

Then, it was just a matter of getting to know you, courting you with expensive gifts and dates, then fully dooming yourself when you accepted him as your boyfriend.

Expectations

Ivan is very blunt with what he wants. Not very long into your relationship, around a month or so, he asks you to move in with him. Any sort of opposition or protest will be stonewalled by this; "We will be married and living together someday anyways. Why fight it? Don't you love me?"

So, whether you like it or not, you move in with him in his giant, lonely house.

There are no maids and none of the Baltic states to be seen, and this is because Ivan expects you to fulfill the role of a housewife, regardless of your gender. So he'd like for you to do chores yourself and to clean up around the house while he's gone. He doesn't expect perfection from your cleaning, in fact, he finds it a little charming when some areas aren't clean or spotless. His house was huge and you were only so small.

On the topic of fulfilling the role of his housewife, he expects you to do other things that make you fit the role even more, such as giving him affection, cooking for him, and keeping up a good front when guests are around. He wants the two of you to evoke the image of a traditional married couple so badly, and if you fail to meet those requirements...

Punishments

Ivan can be cruel. He doesn't tolerate rebellion very well, and his punishments are always physical.

He is a very touchy man, and if you fail to reciprocate his touch, or actively shy away from it, he'll only get more aggressive. His hugs will feel more suffocating, his grip on your jaw while he kisses you will feel bruising, and you swear, it feels like he's trying to crush your hand while he holds it, despite the sweet smile on his face..

If you continue to refuse him, he'll be much less subtle with his harm. One day, when you try to shove him away from you, his grip on your arm tightens to the point it feels like he might just snap it, and he pulls you close to whisper a threat into your ear; "Will you continue to be like this?"

If you say no and apologize, which would be your best option, he'll let out a strained breath and try to relax his clenched jaw, before letting up his grip on your arm and muttering an apology under his breath himself.

If you say yes... His jaw will tense up, and the look he gives you is bone-chilling. "Alright." He says, and doesn't give you much time to think before he drags you to the front door, and throws you out into the harsh cold, with only the clothes on your back.

You can cry and scream apologies and bang on the door all you want, but he's already walked away and drinking a bit of vodka to soothe his own nerves.

He'll keep you outside till you are on the brink of getting mild hypothermia. He waits there, thinking of how long it'd take for the cold to get to someone of your size and shape. He knows everything about snow, and he knows everything about you.

Right before you start to ebb in and out of consciousness, he opens the door, and drags you back inside, wiping the snow off of you and taking your weak, shivering body in his arms.

You cling to him, wanting to live in his house, his coat, and in his arms forever after experiencing the unforgiving hellscape that is the Russian winter.

Ivan mutters sweet nothings, the alcohol in his breath and the powdery smell of his clothing enveloping all your senses. He says that he wouldn't have to do this if you would've just obeyed him, that this is all your fault, and that he didn't want to do this and that he just loves you too much.

If you had any sense of self-preservation, you'll listen to him from now on, and if not... He wouldn't be above breaking a few bones. But you won't disobey him again, right? It's for your own good.

"I'm sorry, моя любовь.."

Rewards

Ivan is a very affectionate man, but he isn't the best at showing it vocally. He shows it in the lavish gifts and dates he goes on with you— Yes, he takes you out on dates. Only for special events or when he's feeling particularly affectionate, but he does it too because he feels he also has a role to fulfill as a doting, providing husband. He'd feel too bad if he just kept you locked up your whole life as his wife (and, also, he wants to test you.. He wants to see if you'll act up in public, and to see if he can trust you). Ivan feels it adds to the aesthetic of a married couple, too.

Besides that, he is INCREDIBLY physically affectionate. He has no sense of personal space at all, which may or may not be a bad thing to you, but regardless, what you think doesn't really matter, and he'll continue to invade it anyways.

He always calls you over to sit on his lap, he sleeps way too close to you, and he's always looming over your shoulder no matter where and what you're doing. As long as he's home, it's GUARANTEED he will be touching you in some way, shape or form.

Because of such things, Ivan is.. prone to getting intimate with you.

Unlike everything else, he actually sort of values your consent when it comes to the bedroom. Yes, he will make advances and be very touchy-feely, and maybe intimidate you a bit, but at the end of the day, if you keep refusing it, he'll let up, but his mood will noticeably be more tense.

Ivan is especially prone to this because clothing is one of his favorite things to gift you, he enjoys dressing you up in things he finds cute. And I mean literally. Whatever he buys for you, be it dresses, coats, or underwear, Ivan will want to be there to undress you and then dress you up in the things he bought himself. You're like his own cute little doll.

Regardless of your gender, Ivan will buy you feminine clothing and accessories. He may even be inclined to forcing you to grow out your hair.

He likes sniffing you. He rests his nose atop your scalp while hugging you, just to breathe in your scent. It calms him like nothing else in the world, and he feels alive again.

And during not-so-often times like these, he'll speak and voice his affections.

"I love you.. We are going to have a great life together."

࿐°*˖✧┊͙✧˖*°࿐

Canada

How the relationship started

Matthew would be completely enamored by you just.. noticing him on a regular basis. Nodding your head at him whenever you two walked by each other in the hallway, mumbling a hello whenever you two sat next to each other, and the mere act of your eyes meeting his. Fully looking at him, and not just straight through him. It always left him red and unable to calm his heart for the rest of the day, so it was only natural he'd fall head over heels for you.

His crush on you kept festering day by day, with him being too shy to continue the little interactions you have, and having such little experience with socializing that he wouldn't even know how to continue furthering this "relationship."

Matthew is rather delusional. He spends his days fantasizing about talking to you, hanging out with you, being with you romantically, and, more often than he'd like to admit, rather impure things... all while you're seated next to him, or while you're across from him, a heady stare through his foggy glasses.

Eventually, Matthew starts to believe that you two were already in a romantic relationship, despite being acquaintances at best, and he starts to get really insecure. What if you forget about him someday? What if you stop noticing him, and you just disappear from his life? He believes that other people you notice, any other person you notice, will jeopardize that oh so special relationship you and Matthew clearly have.

So, Matthew bites the bullet, and asks you out for lunch one day. You smiled and blushed at him so brightly as you accepted, and at that moment, he knew he'd dedicate everything he had in his life to worshipping you.

Expectations

Matthew still puts in an effort to appear like a normal boyfriend, unlike Ivan, so your relationship with him would progress much more naturally.

That doesn't mean he hasn't been doing anything weird, though.

Matthew's already been envisioning what it'd be like to have a family and grow old with you the first moment he heard your voice. All you said was, "Good morning." So what more now that you two are in a real, established, romantic relationship?

He fantasizes constantly about clinging to you like a lifeline and crying about how much he loves you, and to hear you feel the same way he does. He wants to pin you beneath him, letting him do all the work, and showing you just how much he loves you, while whispering praises and prayers to you with a crazed, devoted look in his violet eyes.

You two have only been together for three weeks.

...If it wasn't apparent, all he wants is for you to always, always be by his side.

He doesn't care much for appearances or services like Ivan does. If anything, Matthew wants to be the one to do nice things for you, though he would like it too if you did nice stuff for him once in a while. Though, just kissing him on the cheek is enough to keep him overjoyed for like a week straight.

He spends a lot of time doting on you and trying to prolong the time you guys have together for as much as he can. Honestly, for the most part, Matthew would play the role of a normal boyfriend rather well, and your relationship wouldn't be really turbulent, except for, well...

Punishments

Matthew hates it when you have to go. Usually, he very reluctantly drives you back home after a bit of a fight, but he's just so pitiful you could never find it in yourself to be mad at him. I think he'd be the type to cry whenever you two had any sort of disagreement.

When he's lucky, he can get you to stay the night, which absolutely sends him on cloud nine, but it's not often enough for his liking...

Things would boil over, though, when you had to leave earlier than usual because you had to go to do something, like hang out with a friend, visit your mother, anything of the sort, and Matthew gets really upset.

He starts this whole thing of begging you to stay, that "Aren't I more important than them? Please don't leave." and he's tearing up, his shaky fingers holding onto your sleeve.

"Matthew, please, just for tonight."

"I-I don't want you to go, though."

Then he's crying. Harder than he usually does, and he's looking at you like a kicked puppy.

How could you still go after seeing him like that?

Matthew then learns that he can win you over with his tears. If he just cries for you, you'll stay, won't you?

He'd never lay his hands on you, but he'd constantly guilt-trip you and manipulate you for things to go in his favor.

Violence is something he'd see as a last resort, but it's still something he'd use against everyone else and himself, but never you. He hates to hurt others, but if they get in the way of him and you, he'll do it. I feel like people forget that, while nowhere as strong as Alfred is, Matthew is still a pretty strong guy. He wouldn't ever kill anyone, but he'd severely hurt them, and he'd be hiding his face the whole time.

And yes, he'd hurt himself for you. Those crocodile tears are bound to stop working on you someday, and when that time comes, he'll harm himself and say that he'll just keep hurting himself if you aren't with him.

Then you'll just have to run back to him, tend to his wounds, and reassure him that you still love him and that you'll stay.

...But if you keep trying to run, he'll have to just lock you up so you won't look at anyone else ever again.

Rewards

Matthew is affectionate in every sense, though he tends to show it through the way he wants to do anything and everything with you.

He's always holding onto your hands, massaging little circles into it, getting your favorite snacks when he does his groceries, drying your hair after showers, arranging dates and cooking and cleaning for you as much as he can. He's naturally very doting.

He does his best for you, he really does.

Besides acts of service, Matthew just likes to spend time with you. Lazing around with you on the couch, playing with your hair, and gazing right into your eyes like you were heaven-sent. He always has the most lovestruck expression on his face whenever he's with you.

"...You're the only one for me, you know that?" He mumbles, almost as if he doesn't know he's even talking.

And he says this next line with such devotion dripping from his voice that it makes your blood run a little cold.

"...I love you so much. Never leave me.."

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

(....guys was that decent. anyways! all art used is mine so if you're reading this, go give the original posts some love on my blog!)

[leggerefiore]

Hi! I would i like ask how would evil leaders act if your pokemon dislikes them? Partly cuz of. Knowing they are an evil team leader, but Mostly just cuz of the competition for their trainers attention. (If one of the pokemon could be pawnuard that would be great!)

cw: jealous pokemon

characters: Lysandre, Maxie, Archie, Cyrus, Guzma

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ He hissed as your Pawniard tries to drive one of its blades into his leg. His Pyroar awkwardly holds it back as he debates the situation once more. This was one of many times that your pokemon had clearly expressed a certain distaste towards him, but he had not expected that it would try to stab him for merely attempting to greet you with a kiss. He stared at the pokemon that stood under a meter. Why did it dislike him? Lysandre desperately set out to appease it with both gifts and space. Whetstones were given to the pokemon alongside some of the finest poffins and pokepuffs he could find. The Pawniard had hardly been moved by the acts.

☕️ It had begun subtly. A harsh glare when he pulled you into his side on the couch. While he had not felt too comforted by the harsh expression, it could be easily ignored. Jealousy was the likely culprit then. Your attention was elsewhere, much to the annoyance of the pokemon. This had been somewhat early on into your relationship, so he expected some adjustment. His Pyroar had been quite jealous at first, too. It was expected to pass, surely.

☕️ It, however, did not. Rather, it progressed. Glaring became letting out annoyed cries which turned into wedging itself in between you and him and finally ended up with the Sharp Blade pokemon stabbing him. There was usually not any blood drawn, but he could only wonder why it had clearly come to shown disdain towards him. Dates were interrupted by clothing being slashed or your Pawniard clinging to your leg and nearly begging you not to leave. Affection was difficult due to it placing itself between you both.

☕️ Eventually, he stared down at the pokemon with a sigh. It had been discussed between you both. You had no idea what to do, though. Discouraging the behaviour did not work, nor did allowing for some consequences. Pawniard just seemed determined to be a wedge between you and him, both physically and mentally. In his beautiful world, he supposed this would matter little, but currently it was something Lysandre needed to face. Jealousy was such an ugly thing.

☕️ Somehow, hopefully, he manages to win over Pawniard or better control situations in which its jealousy is expressed. It seems to be going well enough, as he finally can be intimate with you once more without worrying about a possible injury. Of course, a new situation arises when he finds the steel-type offering you a document related to Team Flare. What a mess.

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 How could such a tiny pokemon be so harsh? Your Banette glared at Maxie as it blocked his entry into your home. His visit was interrupted by the ghost-type. Its eerie eyes pierced his soul as he swallowed. He felt fairly certain he had not tossed away any plush toys that were currently seeking vengeance towards him, but it certainly had felt like it with your Banette. The pokemon had made no attempts to disguise its dislike of him and took every chance to try to scare him off from your relationship. Maxie did not succumb to its whims, but that had not been an easy task. He had tried to make nice with the pokemon plenty yet had failed to meet whatever it wanted.

🪨 At first, Maxie had been a little on edge of the glaring Banette that seemed to dislike whenever he decided to display any kind of affection towards you, but had written it off. Ghost-types were just usually possessive over their trainers. This was nothing odd. Mildly annoying, sure, but no worse than his Camerupt attempting to press its way between you both to get his attention back on it. It was just a bit more scary, what with its curse energy. How had you ended up with such a pokemon? He decided to focus on gaining the Banette's trust.

🪨 That proved impossible. No matter how desperately he tried to wager the pokemon's favour towards him, he failed. Banette's behaviour had only become more noticeable, too. Dates were seemingly ruined because you were too exhausted to go or your Banette showing up to scare anyone else involved and therefore end the date early. Any kind of affection left a cold presence heavy in the air or was met by your Banette demanding to sit in your lap or get carried by you. It was endlessly annoying how jealous the pokemon was. He almost tried to carry on through its attempts at ruining dates to spite it.

🪨 You, however, seemingly caught on to the tension rising between him and your pokemon. This led to a discussion in which he finally felt able to voice his concerns about the impact it was having on your relationship. You began to work on Banette's behaviour following this, much to his relief. Finally, he felt able to just enter your home without worrying about leaving with a curse. Being able to sit on your couch and cuddle with you without a certain pokemon interrupting was lovely. Maxie truly felt contented again.

🪨 And, naturally, he tried to the ghost type in the middle. The Magma Leader understood jealousy was innate to the pokemon, but did not like the effects it had. He tried to prove that Banette could still have its time with you, while Maxie claimed his own. Banette seemed to slowly come to understand that and move away from its more possessive actions. Well, until it floated him out of your bed to claim its time. The ghost type understood schedules, as it turned out.

🌧Archie🌊

💧 Frustration swelled in his chest as he stared at your Electrike. It growled at him as he just tried to give you a hug. Archie was not overly fond of electric-types, but he at least set out to befriend the lightning pokemon quite a few times. Treats and time alone to play with his Mightyena were obviously enjoyed, yet the Electrike refused to budge on its obvious dislike of him. He had done just about everything to get on its good side, and all had failed. The Aqua Leader felt at the end of his rope with everything. He could not even cuddle his Luvdisc after a long day before their pet pokemon had decided that it was not allowed. Even his Mightyena had got over its initial hesitance towards you! Hell, even his Sharpedo let you pet it.

💧 At first, he thought nothing of it. Your Eelctrike barking and glaring at him? Perfectly understable! He was not well known to it yet, so an adjustment period was more than expected. Archie went out of his way to make a good impression on it, even if he was not a big fan of electric types. After all, he was happy that you were happy. It then tried to bite him after he pressed a kiss to your cheek. A chuckle was his only reply. Well, jealousy was also understandable. He was not going to blame a pokemon for its reaction.

💧 Until it got worse and worse. Suddenly, before any kind of outing he wanted to do with you, Electrike would develop a limp or suddenly be too needy and try to herd you away from him. Any kind of affection was met with growing and barking, if not a few daring bites. He mostly grumbled at it. Jealous pokemon? Well, whatever. He had dealt with Maxie's weird girl admin before, and she was honestly comparable to your Electrike. It was annoying, but Archie would power through. He was not going to let the canine think it had won. It was just an unfortunate addition to dating you.

💧 A talk was definitely had about Electrike's behaviour, though. You had noticed it, too, and became concerned. After all, you did not want your boyfriend getting attacked every time you were both cuddled up on the couch. Archie felt grateful and there was some slight improvement. Obviously, Electrike did not want to upset you, and it was just jealous of your attention being on Archie instead of it. He understood that, he supposed. He definitely had probably snarled a bit at Maxie when he tried to hog your attention.

💧 Ultimately, he tries really hard to befriend your Electrike. He wants to believe that he can manage to get on good terms with the pokemon. Treats are common gifts, and he attempts to play with it, too. Everything does seem to get to a more reasonable point with Electrike choosing to ignore the time you both are affectionate or just making one of those sighs canines do. He feels glad that the madness is over. Then, Electrike is seen running off with his anchor one morning after he stayed over at your place, and he feels it has begun anew.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ There was some form of deep hurt that came from the rejection of your Rotom. A Cleanse Tag sat on his laptop, having just forced out the electrical ghost. He was fully aware it was inside due to his… history with the pokemon. He was hesitant to become close to your pokemon for many reasons, but the Rotom itself had already seemed to have grown some form of dislike for him. It was not some grandiose mystery to him. After all, he was fully aware that spirit was the main problem of this world, and your Rotom most certainly possessed one. The two were quite awkward. Cyrus was caught between desperately wanting to befriend the pokemon and wanting it gone from his sight.

☄️ The Rotom seemed to have developed its distaste quite early on. It let out a cry as you clung to him and possessed your phone to play a loud sound and scare you away from him. Cyrus had not assumed the behaviour odd, aware that Rotoms were quite fond of pranks. It likely was just some playful manner by the electric-type to brighten both you and him. The upper expression on its face, however, told another story. Had he ever seen a Rotom make that face? He did not think so. It was honestly a bit terrifying.

☄️ The reason for its mannerisms became quite obvious as time progressed. Whenever a date was scheduled with you, it decided that was the perfect time to sabotage something by possessing an appliance and breaking it. How many times had the washing machine been tortured by your Rotom was unknown. A strange behaviour also developed when any intimacy was shown between you both. It let out a cry and randomly started buzzing around you both, trying to draw your attention onto it. That or it possessed the television and neatly give you both tinnitus. Its jealousy was confusing and apparent, ultimately.

☄️ Discussions on how to better manage the Rotom were had but often led to nothing. It was not an easy pokemon to control, and its nature lended itself to mischief much too often. Cyrus did not blame you, as your attempts were plain to see. He did, however, not appreciate the Rotom possessing his laptop and tablet and trying to delete anything Galactic related while also sending it to you. It suddenly began to feel as if the plasma pokemon was attempting to spite him. How had he upset it? Questions ran through his mind, as the possibility that a Rotom truly disliked him made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

☄️ He sighed as he offered the end of a charger to the pokemon. The Rotom quietly took the offer and eagerly began to drain electricity. Cyrus had racked his brain for a solution to how to befriend the Rotom. A toy robot was nervously sat on the table. He had a sneaking suspicion about something with this particular Rotom. It stared over at the toy with big eyes before floating over and possessing it. He pet the toy's head as the Rotom let out a happy cry. For now, at least, he felt he managed a truce.

🕶Guzma💀

□ The Team Skull Boss felt like he was going insane. How could this happen to him? He should be getting intimated by something so small. Yet, here he was trapped in the bathroom with your Meowth puffed up like a Mareep and hissing at him. It was somehow more terrifying than how Nanu's Meowths might have reacted. He was standing on the side of the tub and debating why the damn feline disliked him so much. Guzma played nice with the Meowth and offered treats and pets. It still clearly hated him. Why? He could only debate.

□ It had not been this bad at the beginning. Yeah, it hissed at him and swiped at him, but that was just the nature of Meowths. Guzma was used to them. It did not even occur to him that there had been anything more to its behaviour, as it hissed at the sight of him kissing you. He just assumed it was annoyed that he was in its space and taking up your attention. Your Meowth clearly lavished in everything you gave it, so it probably just was not used to sharing you. His Golisopod was a bit hesitant towards you at first, too, but it got over it eventually. Your Meowth would as well.

□ … Or not. The feline only got worse. Hissing whenever he sat with you on the couch and swiping at his legs when it felt appropriate. Dates were interrupted by it suddenly escaping and needing to be found. He seriously began debating swapping it out with one of Nanu's own and wondering if either of you would notice. He did not, and instead was met with any cuddling being ruined by a Meowth wedging its way between you both and hissing and growling at him. It felt like he was on an episode of that pokemon from hell show. Its jealousy was intense.

□ Of course, Guzma spoke with you about it. You noticed, too. It was kind of impossible not to. Efforts were made in getting Meowth more acclimated to him and it accepting him into what it deemed its space. He hoped the madness would all spiral into its end. These attempts lessened its obvious distaste to more of a relaxed ignorance. He would rather it just ignore him than attack his legs every time he wanted to take a nap with you, however. Everything was better, he thought.

□ Somehow, though, he felt mortified when the Meowth led you to him meeting with an Aether Foundation employee. The contents of the conversation he could only hope were not heard by you. Somehow, Gumza felt a knowing glare in the eyes of the feline. It knew fully well what it was doing, and it was to spite him. Whatever peace had been achieved was gone. Your Meowth wanted war.

[ghouljams]

How would fae!Ghost react if Darling somehow got away? Like once in a million chance and left. How would Ghost react? What would he do? How would he feel?

Darling likes leaves the town and moves like to the other side of the world because of how frightened Darling is.

This is extra but how would Ghost react if he knew Darling left him for another human friend/almost boyfriend of Darlings? Same thing, Darling left to the other side of the world to be away from Ghost and to see their boyfriend.

Oh! How would he feel if Darling left him for another fae, possibly one as old or more powerful than Ghost? I'm thinking Price maybe! Oh, course, it's up to you for whatever you want to do with this, but the main thing is Darling leaves/escapes Ghost.

Lovely writing and I can't wait to see more! Good wishes <3

You are trying to get this woman killed...

It would be incredibly hard to get away from Ghost in the early days of the relationship but where Love and Ghost are with their relationship now it would be impossible. Love can run but she can't hide. But let's say she did run in the early days, before she was love. If she decided that Ghost was too much for her to handle and she needed an out I think she could find one but it would hurt a lot.

I do not consider this to be a Love story, it is pure x reader because I trust you all are smart enough to run from the fae...

The fae that burns Simon's mark off of you and rips half the tangled tethers from you is not what you would describe as kind. He seems angry, it feels personal. It hurts more than you expected. You think he hopes it kills you when he rips them out. You certainly feel like you're dying.

It happens quickly. The burn and then the tear. He says it has to happen like this so Simon can't get to you in time, you don't know enough to say he's wrong, but the way he looks at you draws you back to thinking this is a personal pain for him.

"I have a friend," he tells you, "She'll get you somewhere safe." But what you think he means is that she'll keep tabs on you. Ensure that you're somewhere this fae can reach you for payment. This is a serious debt you've incurred and if there's anything you've learned about names its that "Price" must be a threat as well as a nickname.

You think of Ghost, of the mask and the insidious magic he worked on you without regard for your feelings. The ways he kept you docile and stupid, never knowing whether it was him making you forget or if you were truly losing it. The thought that it might be your mind failing you still hadn't left.

He was always so kind, but it was an act, specialized to trap you. Whatever he wanted with you, he'd shown himself one too many times, chased you too hard, tapped you until you felt like you were losing yourself to him.

Your skin is quiet as you follow Price through his home, through the strange door that leads to a silent snowy landscape. The warmth of summer is long gone here. Harsh reality has taken its place. It's strange how you can feel disquieted by normal. Ghost's shadow had never truly settled in you. You'd been holding on too tightly to your freedom you suppose.

You have your name back, at least, as you trudge through the snow, following your silent companion. Well, you suppose Price has your name now too, debts and all that. He turns a hard right and the trees start to slowly regain their color, the snow giving way to green grass and clover.

"Any life you create with the freedom I've given you is mine." Price explains, you nod like you understand. It sounds like a big ask, you don't really have the wiggle room to haggle. You don't really understand how all these debts work, which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.

"Who's your friend?" You switch topics, not wanting to discuss the finer details of your deal with the devil.

"You can trust her." That isn't what you asked, but you suppose it's as good as you'll get.

"She got a name?"

"Laswell."

"Is it her name?"

"Is now." Price hums, his hand slides along your back and guides you forward. You haven't been walking long but your feet feel like they're starting to blister as you hit some perimeter and pass through.

You're steered towards another door, a small fenced garden with a gate overgrown with vines. Price raps his knuckles against the wall and waits.

You don't know this man well enough to make conversation, and he doesn't seem to like you besides, so silence lapses. You both watch the wooden door in the other side of the garden, the one attached to the neat brick house. It opens after what feels like a long moment, a woman in a sleek ponytail stares at the two of you before crossing the distance.

"What's this?" She asks Price, all but ignoring you.

"Ghost's new ex."

-

Laswell is nice. Nice enough at least. You think she sort of... resents having to look after you. The check-ins feel forced, cold, they're a chore that you don't think either of you want to deal with.

For freedom from one fae you sure feel imprisoned by another. How you're supposed to build a life out of this you don't know. It doesn't feel like anything anyone would want as payment, fae or no. Your world consists of your work and your home. Your isolation follows you like a specter of your relationship with Ghost. The tethers that are left make you feel cold, there's deep empty hole in your soul where the tethers were ripped free and you hope every day to find something to fill it. You feel hollow. You thought you'd feel better, you have your freedom, Price hasn't come looking for payment, what more could you want?

You find yourself thinking of your boogeyman. The way he touched you, the way he talked to you, you think of the fear as often as you think of the infatuation. You hesitate to call it love. You don't know if Ghost knows how to love someone. You think about it though, in the wee hours of the morning. You think about how badly you both wanted it to be love.

Price assured you, you'd be safe. Laswell assured you, you are safe. Even the tethers still tying you to Ghost have no pull if he doesn't know where you are. But you'd know Simon blind.

You know as soon as he sets foot in the little Cafe, you don't even have to look up from filling the order. His presence in the doorway draws stares from the other custoners, something you never saw him deal with when you were together. When you look at him it's like you never left. His eyes burn into yours, and your heart clenches, the pathetic leftover tethers giving their best effort at lighting up. He looks bad, worn, like he's been wrung out and left to dry.

You tell your coworker you're taking a break and go to call Laswell. It's all you can think to do. You already know the room when you open the back room door. The hard wood floors and velvet drapes so out of place. An invitation. You close the door, and Ghost's hand closes over yours on the handle. His forehead drops against your shoulder, you wonder when the last time he slept was.

"You left," he tells you, as if you don't already know. He doesn't sound anything, you'd almost hoped he'd be angry if he ever found you. This is so much worse.

"I had to," you whisper, "you would've killed me."

"I'll get it right this time," you press your forehead to the backroom door, and squeeze your eyes shut, "I promise."

[stellar-skyy]

Hellooo!! May I please request Зима as a lover? Just sweet fluff with how he caught feelings, how he expresses his love, silly things about him, headcanons, etc. I hope this wasn't too confusing and I'm super sorry if I broke one of the rules, you can just ignore this if I did. Thank you so much nevertheless!!

WINTER ADRIFT — Zima x reader.

i. SUMMARY: Zima as a lover. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: Fluff, so fluffy, headcanons, gn!reader, 0.7k words. iv. A/N: Hiii anon!! I was really happy to write this, I love this silly little man. Thank you for the request! ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ

Zima is a very serious looking person. He doesn’t smile often, his words are few and far between, and when he does speak it is quiet and under his breath.

Despite this somewhat intimidating appearance, Zima is a very soft person at heart. He adores his little bird, his notebooks filled with scribbled poetry and other writings, and of course you. 

You, who appeared in his life as quickly as rainfall, bringing a certain light that he’d never experienced before. You, who split his life into two: the Before, and the After.

Before, he was a lonely poet wandering the Far East, with no one but wild animals to keep him from complete isolation. There was only his bird, his poems. It was a quiet life, one that let loneliness seep in far too quickly for his liking, but it was predictable and calm.

And then came the After. Before, he didn’t mind the solitude. But After—After, he couldn’t bear it, because he’d finally gotten a taste of what it was like to not be alone.

Zima’s days turned from sitting still for hours, writing diligently in his notebook, to walking alongside you through trees, watching the snow fall against his windows together, and baking bread in a kitchen far too small for two.

He fell for you very quickly, even if it took a while for him to realize it. It was only when he reflected upon his notebook and its contents, and noticed the sheer amount of writings dedicated to you. He doesn’t quite focus on his work after he’s penned it, so it was easy enough for the poems to be composed and then tucked away into his mind without realizing how many of them were a reflection on his feelings towards you.

By the time the two of you were properly together, he had already written enough to spill the contents of his heart ten times over.

He’s a very early riser, so he always ends up waking up before you. When he wakes up, he likes to look over at you; to watch your chest rise and fall in a careful rhythm, and observe the way your lips slightly part with every puff of breath. He’ll brush a hand over your forehead first, moving any loose strands of hair out of the way, before pressing a quick kiss to it.

Physical affection isn’t easy for him—in fact, he’s rather shy about it. He would prefer to hold your hand or chastely kiss your cheek rather than be overly affectionate, but if you ask for a hug or kiss, he won’t refuse.

(He gives amazing hugs. Just tight enough to feel secure without being restricting, and warm enough to keep away the winter chill.)

Even if he wants to shower you in sweet words and compliments, he isn’t flawless in the language and sometimes his speech fails him. Talking out loud is more difficult than writing, so the loving compliments he does give you are to be treasured.

Instead of words, he leaves you with gifts. A poem, dedicated to you. Wildflowers, picked from the snow and tied together with a ribbon. Baked foods, each more delicious than the last.

He’ll spend hours with you, not talking, just existing in the same space as him. If you sit with him long enough, you’ll be able to hear quiet mumbles under his breath as he becomes fully absorbed in his writing.

He knew he loved you as soon as the animals became as comfortable around you as they were around him. It began with his bird, who despite being all but glued to his side ever since they had met, decided to land on top of your head and settle in your hair. Next came the rabbits, and the ferrets, and then all of the rest of the creatures.

Those animals were his companions, his friends. It was inevitable they would love you just as much as he did, and seeing them warm up to you so quickly was only further proof that you were the one for him.

Seeing you sitting there, with his bird nestled into the crook of your neck, a fox curled on your lap and an elk resting at your side…

He can’t think of a moment where he’s felt more content.

“Hmm? What are you smiling about?”

“Ah… it is nothing… you simply look… perfect."

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[seancekitsch]

Hi if you're open to requests: could you do an Adrian x fem reader with the premise of them having known eachother in highschool and sticking together as ostracized weirdos. Reader leaves evergreen after graduating HS and comes back 10 years later and runs into Adrian. I love your writing and how you characterize Adrian!!

hi hi hi i hope you enjoy this it got away from me and now its a full blown fic

A Homecoming

warnings: best friends to strangers to lovers, gut chase is his own warning, maybe ooc, angry drunk sex, bad speeches, love confessions, angry fluff if that makes sense, happy ending even tho both idiots are in their bag down bad

“How the fuck did Laura meet Gut Chase of all people?” you whisper to yourself as you pick out produce to stock the fridge of your Airbnb. It's a crappy one bedroom house on what was once the nicer side of town, the side with lovely little suburbs away from all of the apartments and trailer parks that people turned their nose up at. You remember those noses turned up at you for your lovely little apartment that you called a childhood home. Now it feels freaky to be on the other side, in a rancher in a suburb with cute little pinterest craft-esque decor on the walls and a Friends reference as the wi-fi password. Fucking yuck.

You never expected to be back in Evergreen after high school, especially not for a wedding. You flew across the country for college to basically avoid this very situation, but here you are. Your college roommate who got a job in Seattle bringing you back to your home town to marry easily the biggest douche from your high school. Your invitation to the fifteen year reunion came in the mail and was thrown directly into the trash several months ago muttering about how they even fucking found your newest address, and then the fuckin save the date from Laura came behind it. You’d known Laura was dating some gym trainer, you knew she said he was from a small town. She’s always been one to fall fast and hard, and you can count on more fingers than you've got the amount of times through college and grad school she had cried over a failed date with “the one” before getting back in the proverbial saddle.

You fondle an onion and think about the last time you saw Gut Chase. It was… the morning after your graduation. The morning you left for Gotham. He was sat at the breakfast bar of their house sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow at you trying to sneak out of his house for once instead of into it. 

Now having taken that trip for the first time in reverse, your long taxi ride from the airport to the airbnb felt like a death march. You’d left behind so much and burned any bridges that could have been left here.

June 2008

“The guys are never going to believe this.”

“Dude, you’re not telling any guys about this,” you laugh, wrapping yourself around Adrian’s torso, the lean muscle taught under his skin as he laughs with you. You weight dips and moves on the trampoline below you, the stupid double wide sleeping bag doing nothing for your back, especially after you’ve been standing in heels all day and sweating in your graduation cap and gown. 

“But then I can finally tell Gut and Chris it’s just that I’m a late bloomer! And if I don’t tell them it was you they won’t believe me!” Adrian exclaims, not at all worried by the open windows of his own house or the other backyards that the dawn is going to slowly creep over. You roll your eyes, your best friend always consumed with impressing his older brother and his friends. 

“That's not a thing. Isn’t it enough that we had this?” you ask, you cheek pressing into his bare chest. His legs tangle in the early summer heat under the cheap sleeping bag.

“No!” He exclaims, laughing like you should be in on it too, but you don’t laugh with him. Your virginity was never important to you, it’s just that everyone else in Evergreen sucks. He’s the only one that you would have deemed worthy anyway. 

You figured: You leave for college tomorrow, he’s the best person you know, and he’s hot even if he doesn’t know it. You’re both virgins- or- you were until you dragged him out into the backyard around two in the morning after passing back and forth a bottle of peach schnapps that he had been arguing about with you all night until he figured out it tasted like candy; the party his older brother hosting in yours and Adrian’s name very quickly became not about you and about him and his friends who had graduated a few years prior. 

Tomorrow you’ll be a month away from being eighteen and across the country by yourself and you haven’t told anyone but your mother, but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. It can’t when a sticky condom was thrown across the yard twenty minutes ago, and That’s Not My Name by the Ting Tings is bass boosted and floating in the air from the house, and Adrian Chase just gave you your first orgasm. 

“Maybe it is,” he admits, his voice now heavy with sleep. You don’t know when he falls asleep, but you leave before he wakes.

Your hand shakes at self check out, wondering if Adrian and his brother patched things up enough to be a groomsman. Laura made you a bridesmaid over FaceTime, talking your ear off about how much Dorian wasn’t her normal type but when you know you know, you know? And even then it never struck you to remember that Gut’s real name is Dorian. Maybe you’d be paired up, and maybe Adrian had changed enough in this span of time to forgive you and look you in the eye. You don’t count on it, honestly, you expect him to throw a fit the second he sees you. You don’t blame him for that hypothetical reaction either. It’s been over a decade with two degrees six terrible boyfriends and only one friend who ever came close to how special Adrian was for you. And now she’s marrying Adrian’s dickhead brother.

Its only a few minutes after you load the dirty old fridge of your airbnb (definitely only getting three stars, the place is sketch) that you phone rings, Laura’s contact illuminating the dull lighting of the kitchen. You put her on facetime while you load the pantry. 

“BITCH!” she screams, her smile illuminating a dim screen as her voice cuts through all of the loud background noise, “Where are you?”

You laugh, tossing the veggie chips into the back of the pantry.

“Where am I?” you scoff, “I’m at my Airbnb, I was about to throw on a bad movie and drink some wine. Where are you, Miss Bride?”

She puts the phone up close to her face, only her eye showing as she fake whispers into the mic.

“I’m at Hooters,” she confides like its the funniest secret.

“Oh, with Mr. Groom?” you ask, teasing her as you reach for the bottle and the corkscrew, one of the few amenities left to you in the drawers. 

“With tha whooooole wedding party,” she draws out the words without taking the phone away from her eye.

“You had their LIT’s, didn't you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“And I just bought one for you,” she confirms, “So you better get an uber or I’m going to switch out your bridesmaid dress for an Aquaman costume.”

“You slut!” you shout, swiping up on her call to obey her and pull up uber, “You wouldn't. Aquaman is such a chump.”

“So get over here!” she laughs, and it's infectious. God, you've missed Laura. Sure, you facetime twice a week, but she lived with you for six years and it's like losing a hand to lose her being just a few layers of drywall away at all times. 

“I am, I am! Its ordered,” you assure her, and a comfortable silence settles, she sips her drink, her hand clawlike to hold both hers and yours so she can hold her phone in the other. 

“You know he fucks the fish, right?” you ask.

“You're the second person to say that tonight!”

The uber to Hooters is quick, thank god. The bright lights feeling harsh on your skin and you really wish Laura hadn't threatened you with the costume. It’s manipulation at its finest. You had the most recent kissing booth movie right there ready to be made fun of over your coffee mug full of wine. But no, you have to stand around in a Hooters in your hometown. Youre flooded with relief, however, when you walk past the hostess stand and clock that theres a touchtunes machine in the corner so you can at least entertain yourself with awful song choices. You know who would love hearing the Monster Mash followed by Call Me Maybe? You and Laura. Especially after she tries to pour that LIT down your throat the moment she sees you. 

“There she is!” Laura shouts, helping you tilt back the glass immediately. It's just like college again, your days back in Gotham where you’d wander away from the college bars and see how much liquor you could get for your money. 

“Mm, holy shit,” you cry out, barely able to down the drink in one go, “That's how you snagged your groom?”

She crinkles her nose at you,her blonde hair falling in her face as she leans in close.

“He happened to like my squat thrust, I know I have to work harder than that to win you over,” she quips, and you rub your nose with hers before pushing yourself out of her arms reach. 

“Now where is he? Who are these bridesmaids I’m sharing my spotlight with?” you ask, letting her lead you further in towards the bar. 

Gut Chase himself meets you halfway across the restaurant.

“Y/N!” He shouts, “You’re kidding me! I thought Laura-girl was joking when she said she knew you.”

“Gut!” you shout back, surprising yourself that you're actually sort of happy to see the familiar face. He pulls you under his bicep quickly, ruffling your hair as if you were his little sibling. 

“She was so weird after she got kicked off the cheer squad,” he explains to his fiancee, “She spent all her time in my basement with my little brother! This one lived with us.”

“Oh, Adrian?” she asks hesitantly trying to remember his brother's name , and something weird twinges in your chest.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, your voice and your breath practically leaving you. 

Is he here? Does he hate you? Does he miss you? The first few years without him were tough, you would turn to tell him something or think of something funny you had to say and it all just had to float into the wind, forgotten. Then Laura sort of filled that gap. Then your D&D group. But the Adrian sized hole can only be squeezed into, never full filled, never a perfect fit. 

“Yo, Adrian!” Gut calls out before you can stop him, “Get your ass over here!”

Gut releases his grip on you and a man across the bar looks up from his phone. 

And it's like time slows down, and as he slides off the barstool “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix floods the air like that scene in Wayne's World. Its like he moves in slow motion, his sweater doing nothing to obscure his physique and muscles, his glasses doing nothing to hide those beautiful eyes of his. He's changed so much, but not at all, just filled out what was already there. You're not sure if it's the LIT or the sight of him that's making your knees feel like they’re buckling.

“Why is she here?” Adrian asks his brother, his posture straight and tone unreadable, and Gut gives him a warning look. You almost pity Laura that you didn't brief her on on your intimate knowledge of the family she was marrying into.

“Bro…” Gut warns him, less than subtle. You've seen this before, but in high school, Gut would have just hit Adrian already or called him a pussy.

“Hey, uh, Gut? Sorry, Dorian?” he turns his attention to you as you correct yourself, “Why don't you take my dear Laura for another LIT? I could use another one too.”

Laura looks at you like you've got three heads for commanding the situation, but gladly lets her fiance lead her back over to order another, whispering to you that she’ll bring yours on Gut’s tab. 

Adrian stares at you, looking you up and down, sizing you up… not sexually, maybe… maybe? Wouldn't be the worst thing, he’s always been handsome to you, but he's really filled out. 

“Why are you here?” he asks you directly, his knuckles turning white around his beer. 

“I….,” words fail you for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as a million things want to spill from your lips. 

I’m sorry, I’ve always regretted leaving you, I wanted you to come with me, I wish I took you with me, I compared even the stupidest tinder date to you, I want to make you laugh, I loved you since I was a kid, Even Laura doesn’t get me like you do. 

But you don’t say any of that. You can’t. 

“I’m here for the wedding,” you say, holding it all back even though you could collapse into his arms at any moment. 

“Me too,” He says, “Only I’ve been here and who knows where you were.”

Okay; you deserve that snark from him. 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

An understatement of the century but it’ll do for now. If you say too much, you’ll cry. You cannot cry in a Hooters. 

“Or say goodbye?”

“I know, I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for everything.”

Adrian’s arms fall around you, the cold heel of the bottle of the glass digging between your shoulder blades as you lean into the hug against him. It feels like home being in his arms again, only now the arms are filled out with muscle and he

“I’m sorry too,” Adrian offers, but there's no real emotion behind it. You can tell he doesn't really mean it; an empty thing to say just because he thinks he should, but that doesn't bother you.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, “ you console him genuinely, your hand rubbing up against his henley covered bicep. 

“I know, I’m just saying that. I’m not the one who abandoned my best friend. Now I have a new best friend!”

You pull back, not at all upset because you expect that too, and at this moment Laura comes back with your LIT. 

“For courage,” she whispers not at all subtly in your ear before kissing your cheek and running back to her fiance. 

“Why do you need courage?” Adrian asks, not pretending he didn't hear that.

“Cause I never should have left… and you look really good.”

It's definitive, it's out there. You can't and you won't take it back for anything. It's the truth. You love Laura and the fact that you met her but you absolutely should not have left Adrian to do it. 

You take the straw to your mouth and suck, not pulling away from Adrian, instead your hand still around his back clawing into his sweater to keep him there. 

“You look really good too! Pretty, because women don't like being called hot.”

You dont know where he got that from, but you accept the compliment nonetheless. 

“You know, I was really mad at you for like a year, but then I just got over it, I figured you were trying to teach me some weird lesson about missed opportunities or acting out part of some romantic comedy but then you didn't come back and… I’ll shut up now,” he says, misreading your attention on him as a bad thing. 

“I wanted to call you back,” you admit, “But how do I call you and say: Hey, I’m in Gotham now! Even though we were supposed to get dinner tonight I guess I wont be making those plans. I didnt know what to do.”

“I could have come with you!”

You both know thats a fucking lie. 

“I’m glad I got to see you,” you offer, the words so bittersweet on your tongue. His eyes search your face, and you realize then you probably should have re-applied some make up. Its set into your face from the flight this morning and all of the errands you've run. You probably look like some kind of victim. 

"Me too, because honesty I've thought about that night a lot. I've tried to rank where it falls between all the threesomes I've had."

Weird flex, but, okay.

"I do too," you admit as you grab the straw for another sip, "not the threesomes thing, but I think about it... about you."

Something about Adrian's gaze has you open and honest, moreso than you would normally be with a man. But then again, Adrian isn't just some man...

“Finish that,” he tells you, his eyes zeroed in to where your lips and the straw connect. You obey, drinking what you can before putting the glass down on the nearest empty table. 

“Adrian I-” You get cut off by his lips capturing yours; Adrian kisses you with a passion you haven’t felt in fucking years, the passion of someone who actually cared. Sure, you've had boyfriends and girlfriends, but none have kissed you like this. 

Instead of hot and bothered you feel cold… and wet.

“Adrian, what the fuck-?” you whisper when you can break away, something dripping down your leg. His beer spilling as he tilts the bottle carelessly to grip you better. You break away from him to shake the beer off of your jeans, a puddle forming on the ground. He scrambles to right the turned bottle and place it on the same table as your LIT.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m not good at understanding people,” he admits to you as if you didnt spend all of high school attached at the hip, and this time you kiss him, your hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven jawline.

The next thing you know, you're back at your airbnb, having Irish goodbye’d to Laura and Gut and without meeting or talking to the rest of the wedding party. Youre being a bad friend and a bad bridesmaid and you know it. You hadn’t had the chance to ask Adrian why Gut was so friendly to him, though Laura might have a hand in that. You hadn’t had the chance to ask where he worked, what he liked to do, who Adrian now was really. 

 Adrian’s mouth barely leaves yours the second the door is closed, instead backing you quickly into what he correctly guessed is the bedroom of the house. His reflexes are sharp, unlike the awkward teen he was, and he knows how to perfectly steer you to your bed for the next week.

You walk backwards awkwardly until your calves meet the boxspring unceremoniously. He tilts you back until you fall on your own, your elbows catching you as he follows suit and crawls on top of your figure. You don't know where the confidence comes from, but then again it had fifteen years to form in him. Adrian pulls off your shoes and your pants quickly as he moves up the bed, not even trying to hide his prowess, moving like some kind of well trained machine. He’s come to impress even though he's done more than that by simply not snubbing you or telling you off in the middle of a Hooters, although both would have been deserved.

But you; You feel like you're back out on that trampoline again, your graduation dress pushed up around your waist, all too bare under him. No time has passed, it’s all so familiar -

“I should hate you” he states, his lips hovering over your navel, “But it's weird, I don't! In fact, I feel like I should be thanking you. If hadn't left and rejected me so hard I wouldn't have gotten so buff and good looking.”

“You should hate me,” you agree, your breath and your words feeling lost in your chest under the weight of him on top of you. His lips travel from your navel to your ribcage, pushing your shirt up as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in their path. You arch your back into his motions, your hands helping him pull the shirt off, awkwardly shuffling until you can fling it to some random corner of the room. Adrian’s eyes widen when he sees your bralette, mesh and flimsy and hiding nothing from him.

He pulls one of the dark blue mesh cups down, immediately latching his lips around your pert nipple, sucking and earning a sharp inhale of breath from you. He chuckles against your skin at your reaction to him, and then does it again. Cocky asshole. You can't help but compare this to the trampoline. He was so unsure, fumbling and almost tearful at the fear of fucking something up. You led the way, urged him on. Adrian now needs no urging, no guidance in making you squirm beneath him. His lips release your nipple, and he bites down at the top of the swell of your breast, sure to leave a mark. Youll have to remember to put a spoon in the freezer tomorrow morning or else you could end up with a wardrobe malfunction for the wedding. Cocky bastard, you think, leaving his mark on you. 

But really, he’d left so many marks on you that still havent faded. Its the way your ringtone from high school never changed, its the way you bought only the brands of locks Adrian said were best for each apartment you've had, its the way you buy things in teal if theres the option. Your fucking spatula back home is one of his many marks.

“Ah!” you yelp when his bite gets a little too hard, your perfectly manicured fake nails digging into his back. Adrian laughs again and pulls himself up to reach your neck, his hands exploring everywhere they can, teasing at your chest, your waist, your hips. 

“Fuck me,” you plead as his lips connect with the pulsepoint on your throat.

“Youre sure?” He asks, “You know, you shouldn’t fuck someone who should hate you. That's just asking for complications.”

And although he gives you an out, he’s already gone back to kissing and licking at your throat and groping at every curve of your body. You're thinking with your pussy, not your mind right now. You know there should be a conversation instead of whats happening right now. Maybe some tears shed, maybe a nostalgic movie and some honest explanations on your part. 

But you don't initiate any of that.

“Then fuck me like you hate me,” you say instead.

Adrian grinds his jean clad length against your core, and you whine, girlish and high pitched and embarrassing. He shushes you, removing himself from your grasp to yank off his sweater and undershirt, then his jeans all discarded over the edge of the foot of the bed. 

He moves to you, working your panties down your legs until you can kick them off the bed at your ankles, and sheds his boxers with them. His eyes follow the trail of your legs to your center, already dripping and ready for him. 

“You really want that?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical. You didnt know Adrian could do that. He traces his calloused hands up the insides of your thighs, letting his fingertips tease you where you need him most. You nod fervently, arching your back to try to reach him, bring him closer.

“Please?” you ask, wanton and pathetic under him. He draws his thumb between your folds, testing the metaphorical waters. He draws low, anticipation laced moans from your lips, teasing and slow. 

And then without warning pushes two fingers into you. 

Your gasp echoes against the cliches wall decor, rattling the glass of the live laugh love frame, shaking the flimsy bedframe. 

He does not start slowly, no, he gives you no mercy in his motions, his smirk teasing and taunting you as he thrusts his hand.

“Adrian, I- Fuck!” you struggle to find the words, your hands moving to his forearms and digging your nails in, trying to hold on for dear life. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. Fuck, you didn’t know Adrian could talk like this. And to think, you could have had this the whole time if you just stayed here. 

“Yeah,” you whine, “Yeah, please.”

You're not sure what youre begging for. To cum? To feel him? You just want more. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he leans down like he’s going to kiss you, and then instead nips at your lip before pulling back. Its cruel. 

His fingers move in, out, in, out, inout, and then slow to a halt inside you. You squirm under him, needing him to do anything. Anything. 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he says, and you flush in embarrassment, neediness and heat settling in your chest.

“Adrian, I need you,” Your voice sounds far away, underwater, foreign to your ears. Who is this person? How and when did you ever get this needy, this desperate? His smile grows, but it does not give you any comfort. 

Adrian removes his fingers from you, lifting them up to his nose to smell them.

“Like fucking candy,” he remarks, and pushes his boxers down, easily discarding them. 

He leans back down, his weight on you once more. A weighted blanket, a comfort as his chest presses against yours. You kiss him, the way a smoker needs a cigarette, pulling and all consuming; your hands find purchase in his hair, your body fully reactive to every tiny movement of his lips against yours. His tongue sweeps across your lips, easily parting them the same way he easily parted your legs. He moves against you, rock hard in the crux of your thigh, his big hands holding your hips in place as he finds his way. Adrian probes along, pushing his hips in slow teasing motions until he finds his rightful spot at your center. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he whispers between kisses, and you brace yourself against him, foreheads touching and his glasses fogged. 

He pushes into you with a groan, bottoming out and giving you the grace to adjust before he starts to move.

Adrian’s hips rock you, the whole bed, your whole world, your hands tighten around his curls as they pick up in pace, the rhythm of the bedframe banging against the bed punctuating each of his movements.  He picks up his pace quickly, and you move in time easily, rolling your hips to meet his with each thrust. 

“Fffffuck,” you stutter, losing control of your lips, your tongue, both moving of their own accord and saying shit. There’s a war in your brain, part of you wants to stay in control, wants to make sense of this; the other side wants everything Adrian to overtake everything you. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he repeats, switching up his angle to make your next moan a pitiful squeak in your throat. 

“You,” you gasp again, “You said that.”

His hands roam the geography of your body, mapping each curve and dip of you, not missing a single centimeter. Everything he touches turns to flame, hot under him and hot under his touch, pushing you closer and closer to your boiling point. 

You won't last long, you know that. Adrian moans above you, dragging his lips against the corner of yours as he moves, closer and closer.

And then he pulls out. You whine at the missing contact, the chill that sets in without his heat in your orbit. You pout, lips messy and swollen. 

“Turn over,” he demands, moving his finger in a circle to demonstrate his intention. You obey quickly, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. His hands land first on your ass, smacking both sides of your cheeks and whispering “hell yeah” in a tone you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. His hands then slide from your ass to your hip, then to your back. He unclips your bra and lets the straps fall down your shoulders.

He bends down over you, letting his chest press into your bare back as he presses a kiss to the space where your neck and shoulder meet. 

“Down, girl,” he says, as one of his big hands starts to push your shoulder down until you cave into his movements, folding into the bed until your face hits the pillow.

Fuck, all control of the situation you had, you’ve lost. The ground crumbling out from under you and Adrian can mold and manipulate you any way he wants to, and you want him to. 

His free hand strokes down the curve of your back, and then leaves you, only to position himself back at your entrance. 

“Oh, you look beautiful like this,” Adrian sighs, sounding strained. You've always trusted Adrian to be honest, and you can believe he means it, like he would worship you face down ass up.

He presses his length into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, a glacial pace until he’s fully sheathed. 

Adrian wiggles his hips when theyre fully against your ass, and you huff in laughter, giggling into the pillow before he silences you with a rough thrust. 

This new angle feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but in a way that you want to feel over and over again, in a way that makes you feel breathless and alive. The next thrust and the one after that leave you gasping and struggling for air, the ones after it drawing high pitched whines into the silk of the pillowcases.

He pistons into you quickly after that, like a man with something to prove. He presses his full length into you each time, and each time hitting a spot inside you that has you feeling fuzzy and hot all over. His hand returns to your hip to  guide his motions and yours. 

You chase your high, rocking back into his thrusts and meeting each of them half way. Your moans are swallowed in the silk, wrapped and buried down deep into the mattress, rooted in him and the moment. 

“How am I doing?” he asks, and sensuality gone from his voice, but thats just Adrian.

You moan in response, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent moons in your skin that would last far into the morning.

“Close,” you manage to squeak out, your voice barely audible, but Adrian picks up on what you're trying to say. 

“Yeah? You wanna come on my dick?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. Adrian moves his hand from gripping your hip to between your legs. His fingers circle your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make it feel like you're about to snap. 

“Please,” you whine, arching your back further into the friction.

“Let go, baby, let go,” he coaxes you, his lips against your spine and you finally give in to him. 

He slows and kisses your shoulder while you ride your high, whispering praise against your skin as you shudder beneath him, his whole frame bent over yours. His hand leaves your clit and both come up to hug around your waist, anchoring you to him and the world and bringing you back down. All you can think of is that you could have had this the whole time. Fifteen years of this. 

But then he returns to his former position, the hand on your shoulder returning there as he picks up the pace again. It stings when he starts to move, but not terribly. A soothing burn that you find yourself rocking back into without a second thought. 

“Where can I?” He asks through gritted teeth, lifting his hand off of your shoulder so you can lift your head up. 

“Inside,” you answer, voice still muffled by the pillow, "I'll get plan b, there's always a coupon for that shit."

“Got it,” he confirms, and then speeds up his pace again. This time his hips are messy, without rhythm as his body meets yours, his voice uncontrolled as me moans without restraint. 

Even overstimulated and tired, you rock back in time to meet him, moaning each time his hip bones meet your ass. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he stutters, and pulls back unceremoniously, heat streaming and filling you only seconds later. You shift slowly, trying to get your knees out from under you. 

Adrian stops you though, one of his hands a soothing comfort on your hip to guide you to a comfier position as his other hand dabs a tissue from the bedside on your back. 

He cleans you off remarkably gently, moving over you to throw himself down on the blankets beside you, his head hitting the empty second pillow. Your back feels sticky and cold, but you don't mind at all. You turn your head so at least one one your eyes can peek out at him from where you lay spent and tired, a mess of sweat and spit and butterflies in your stomach. He lays in a similar state, breathing deeply with a lazy smile across his features.

It feels right.

“Stay and cuddle?” you ask, voice wary from use and the need for sleep. You feebly move your hand toward him, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

“Sure,” he says, “But I won't be here when you wake up.”

He puts his big arm across your back, and where you should feel the familiar warmth you only feel ice. 

“Really?” you ask, but fuck, thats a mistake. You shouldn't say anything. It's an instant realization you don't want to hear anything he’s about to say. 

“It’s what we do, right?” Adrian says it like it’s a joke, but there’s venom in his words. It drips through, from his teeth to yours, and sinks in. 

He pulls you close, his actions not matching his words, and snuggles in, his hot breath fanning out against your face. His eyes close and he lets his body relax quickly. You try to do the same, but you end up staring at the ceiling fan, trying to think of any reason why Adrian would actually stay. You don't know when you fall asleep, but it's long after he does. 

True to his word, he’s not in the airbnb when you wake up. Just cold sheets and an empty glass of water and a half eaten green apple on your counter. That's all to signify he was even here, that you and your best friend had a sleepover after fifteen years. No real evidence, no trophy, not even his phone number, not even a cup left in the sink for you to clean when you do the dishes. Even the marks of his nails are fading away into nothing.

You deserve that, you think, all of Adrian’s talk of hate fucking of course wasnt a joke. When had he ever not said what he meant? He’d always told you what was on his mind, no filter and often TMI. But that doesnt stop the tears that fall, the streaking of last night's mascara down your cheekbones and the messy foundation you didn't take off. 

True to your words last night as well, before you even brush your teeth you order a plan b kit from Doordash. Now you wait, and wallow. 

It comes quickly, you take it, you feel no different.

You lay on the couch, the bed feeling weird and wrong now that it's been used and abandoned by Adrian. It's definitely going to be a long week, you think, and you debate trying to contact the airbnb host to see if you can check out early. Maybe you can take a rental car up to that town they shot Twin Peaks in and stay at the hotel or something. 

This was a mistake. All of it. You shouldn't have let Adrian kiss you, you shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have wanted him. You shouldn't still want him. 

Your phone rings. Laura.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, her voice shaking, “Can I ask you the biggest favor?”

You have nothing to lose at this point, besides your comfort in the stilettos she has you wearing for the bridal party.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I need,” her voice breaks, and you can tell it's serious. 

“Whoa, what do you need? I’ll drop everything,” you interrupt and reassure her, and it's not like you had anything scheduled but self pity until the rehearsal tonight and the dinner at Fennel Fields afterwards. Laura’s not someone you've ever liked to hear or see cry, because she never does so unless she has a good reason. 

“Gina’s plane got delayed,” she explains, “You remember Gina?”

You remember Gina well, Laura’s best friend since diapers, your Adrian basically. She was the maid of honor and you were basically second in command to her. 

“Babe, I know Geen,” You remind her. Gina gave you your first pot brownie.

“Well her plane got delayed and she's stuck in Metropolis on her layover until the morning of the wedding and then she still might miss hair and make up but she's not here for the rehearsal dinner speech and I don't know what to do,” Laura sucks in a desperate breath, “I don't want to cancel the dinner speeches I know Dorian's best man had a plan.”

“You don't have to,” you tell her, “You made me second in command.”

“I know, I need you to write a speech if you can.”

At this point you can tell Laura is crying on the other end of the line. 

“It's done. Don't worry your sexy little face about it,” you comfort her, not really thinking about what you're signing yourself up for but your undying loyalty to her taking over the rational thought in your mind. 

“That doesn't make sense,” her voice is still watery, but you can hear the smile through it.

“Hang up on me and go make out with Gut,” you tell her, “Leave the amateur hour to me.”

And she does just that, whispering her thanks to you as she cuts herself off. 

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

This fucking speech, your saving grace of a distraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I say? You think. You wrack your brain on what to say, you practice, you write line after line in green glittery gel pen on a piece of stationary you found in the homes kitchen. You treat it like a stand up set, ‘yes and-ing’ yourself to death to try to think of something that doesn't sound stupid. You've never been in a long term relationship that was ever actually going anywhere. You're so incapable of wording what love is…

No, thats a lie you tell yourself. The words come easily now, the words flow like water from a fountain. 

It's not clear how you're going to go through the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Knowing Adrian will be in the same proximity as you; Knowing that with Adrian one kiss is too many and a thousand is never enough. You want to bash your head against the wall, but instead you save your airbnb fees and focus on doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed.

You look at the dress you brought for the rehearsal, one of two garment bags hanging on the top of the closet door. Your bridesmaid dress; an olive green, low cut, with a soft flowing skirt. And then the dress for tonight, one that was already in your closet at home from your thrifting as a broke college student; navy vintage polyester taffeta, with an extremely tight square neck bodice and a tea length skirt that puffed out. You had sewn a comically big pink heart with white lace into the bottom of the bodice a week after you had gotten it. Laura came home to you sitting with fabric and thread strewn across the floor of your shared apartment. You knew this dress was a memory between you two, and that's why you picked it for tonight. Putting it on alone is a little difficult, but you manage. The only thing Laura asked out of your comfort zone was that all bridesmaids wore silver stilettos. Fucking evil, but you throw those on the passenger seat of your rental car. 

You crinkle the paper with your speech in your hand as you clutch it against the steering wheel, and pull out of the driveway of the rancher.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, but that wasn't the part you were worried about. You only wrinkled part of your skirt under your sweaty hands but for the most part it was salvageable. You're walking with one of Gut’s coworkers, a nice guy named Mike who has also never been in a wedding before and he’s easy to use as a distraction from those green eyes you can't stand to feel on your skin. Laura is happy and that's what matters. That's what you tell yourself every time your smile falters.

You avoid his eyes at all costs as you enter the back room of Fennel Fields, taking your seat next to Laura’s mother, taking the Maid of Honor seat and looking at the fixed course menu after a polite hello to the woman who helped you find a Gotham apartment without remnants of fear gas in the venting. Adrian sits at the table diagonal from you now, a slight relief from the onslaught of him and everything about him. Your clammy hand reaches for the menu, passing it to the waiter nearby after clarifying that everything looked fine with no substitutions; everyone does the same and you try to keep yourself preoccupied by any means necessary to avoid that gaze. 

Champagne is poured and you want to drink it down, want to take the edge off in any way possible. 

But you don't. You can't. The note in your dress pocket prevents you from doing that. 

Gut’s best man goes first. He gives a lovely speech, you figure. He talks about how Laura and Gut are like puzzle pieces or something and how she’s been such a light in his life. It's odd to think that Gut’s friends know so much of Laura, that she’s become one of their group. Her other bridesmaids are even Gut’s friend’s wives and girlfriends except for you and Gina and one other girl, her coworker at this new job.

 You keep your eyes trained on him, and on Gut and Laura. They look so in love, so genuinely happy. Fuck, its beautiful. 

“So I’ll end this trainwreck on a toast. To the lovely Bride and Groom: may they make their honeymoon flight, and not lose their luggage!”

You laugh, whispering a cheers before tapping your flute on the table and finally sipping champagne yourself.  

Now it's your turn. On unsteady legs, whether from the stilettos Laura has you wearing or your emotional state, you rise from your seat and pull the grossly crumpled piece of paper from your dress pocket. 

The microphone gets passed to you and you steel yourself to do your best stage face and voice. Give them senior year at Gotham University’s production of Miss Julie.

Here goes nothing.

“Hi,” you start, clear and confident, “I’m not Gina. I’m sorry, I wish I was.”

Laura’s mom and a few of the wedding party laugh. You don't look at Adrian.

“And to make matters worse, I’m not even qualified to give this speech.”

You earn another laugh, this time from more people, and Laura snorts and slams her hand down on the table. She can correctly guess how you screamed in your airbnb trying to write this, having watched you struggle through editing stand up sets for years. She knows you probably talked to yourself in the mirror to get this right. 

“I’ve sabotaged my chance at love but these kids? They know what they’re doing.”

What the fuck does that next line say, you sweaty bitch? Why the fuck did you use gel pens for this?

“Before I moved into my studio in Condiment King’s territory—“ you pause for laughter and get some, “— I lived with Laura. And she was good, I guess.”

You stick your tongue out at her, winking. 

“She showed me how to use a hair straightener and how to shotgun a beer, but most importantly she showed me what it looks like to actively be vulnerable and put yourself on the line for love. She faced the dating world before tinder, but she also extended that vulnerability to me. With her making soup for me when I’d had a crappy day, and calling me out when I’d done something wrong to put me back on the right path, she always loved me fully and with care. Not gentleness, though. After a frat formal she threw a glass at me once.”

The room erupted in laughter and Laura looked fake-embarrassed. 

“But I have also had the privilege of knowing the groom. Dorian, or as I know him, Gut Chase, was someone I always knew would make sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch. I was briefly a cheerleader, he was in football and a few years older, but I had someone close to him that I held dearly and he kept that in mind. I don’t think he liked me much when we were growing up, but he always made sure I had a ride home and a place to stay. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in public but I wasn’t going to get hurt around him.” 

The room laughed again, although you only focus on the smile of one of the groomsmen who doesn't meet your gaze. You crumple the paper further because you can’t even read it at this point and you don’t remember what it said.

“The point is, I don't need to have some love story of my own to know what care and love look like when it comes to these two. I know I could have had something like this and I'm endlessly jealous of my prettier college roommate. And judging from last night and today I’ve never seen such explicit love between two people, the way they orbit each other and care for the people in their lives. They've found someone who is not only going to be there at night for them when things are fun, but they've found someone who’s going to be there in the morning. And someone they're going to be there in the morning for. Someone that's going to take care of the good and the bad and someone that they're going to show up for in that way, too. It’s fucking beautiful. I’m sorry for cursing. Let’s get hammered.”

You knock back your champagne and remind yourself to call an uber and leave your rental here. Maybe it's heavy handed that you mentioned the morning. But really, had you stayed that morning with Adrian you would have never left. You would have thrown away college had he kissed you again the morning after. People cheer and you scurry to get away from the spotlight, people start to stand from where they were and waiters start to clear plates and people begin to go to the bar. You're one of the first.

You order another glass of champagne. Had Adrian asked, you would have stayed. You know that. You've always known that, and that's exactly why you had to leave before he woke up. Fate is cruel, bringing you back here. 

“Baaabe!” Laura shouts, Gut in tow, and throws her arms around you.

You hug her back with the arm not holding your glass. 

“That was amazing,” she says, and you can only scoff, not willing to take the praise. 

“You did good, Runt,” Gut offers, patting your shoulder with a fond smile on his face. Maybe people can change. 

“Thanks guys,” you sigh, and try to gulp down this next glass as well. 

“Who were you talking about?” Laura asks. 

You choke on your sip.

“Who?”

“In the speech, you said you blew it with someone, who was it?”

Gut’s grip on your shoulder gets a little tighter. 

“Do you want a tequila shot?” you deflect, and never one to turn down a challenge, she accepts. 

You shoot Gut a thankful glance, although he actually didn't do anything. 

The next morning you wake up to your alarm with the slightest headache, two full glasses of water and a bottle of advil on your bedside table that you don't remember placing there but you also don't expect to with all the champagne and tequila going to your head.

It's still forty five minutes before you have to be at the wedding venue but you shower in under ten minutes and call an uber (thankful for your foresight to leave your car last night) the second you're dry. It's a good thing the ride is quick to the venue and they dont mind that you've thrown your bridesmaid dress and shoes and an additional backpack across the back seat. The uber driver is far too loud and friendly for this hour, your headache starting to get stronger even though you took the advil.

Laura’s already there and panicking, her lashes done and her immediately screaming at you to get into the hair chair even though it's technically not correct on her schedule. Janessa should be going first but you don't question a bride thats near tears. You hop in and close your eyes, and combing or prodding is fine with you, as long as you don't have to be standing. 

By the time your hair is done other bridesmaids trickle in, and by the time everyone is done Gina finally is able to make an appearance and you all breathe a sigh of relief at Laura’s worry finally dissolved. You all look nice. Laura looks like a princess. You're not sure if you can get through this wedding without crying like a baby now that you see her all done up. Fuck. She ushers you all out as she stays behind, a smile that finally looks genuine plastered on her face, ready for her first looks with her new husband before the rest of the world gets to see her.

“Thank you,” she whispers one last time to you, and you squeeze her hand before you leave the bridal suite to go line up in preparation for the actual wedding itself.

“— You moron!” 

You catch the end of whatever Gut is whisper-shouting at Adrian in the lobby, handsome in his suit and anxiety painted on his face and seeping from his gritted and bared teeth. 

You walk the rest of the way over after getting down the rest of the stairs, skirt of your dress fluttering as you move, and put your hand on Gut’s arm not unlike the way he did to you last night.

“Hey, whatever's going on, I got it,” you tell him, not looking Adrian’s way still in fear of your own emotional state. You aren't sure why you offered to help at all, but there's no backing out now.

“He wants to switch partners to walk with you, which is stupid and not part of the plan,” Gut explains. What the fuck. Actually what the fuck.

You shake your head, and you bury the pit in your stomach. Your emotions aren't the most important ones today and others are at stake. Fuck it, you’ll take one for the team and maybe cry in the bathroom later and blame it on the alcohol, as long as it doesn't stop you from the cotton eyed joe at the reception.

“Let us switch, your bride is upstairs waiting, we’ll handle shit down here,” you tell him, voice already exasperated, and that seems to light a fire under his ass. He moves to the staircase without another warning and salutes towards you and his little brother.

His little brother whom you still cannot look in the eye.

The rest of the bridal party starts to get themselves together at the disappearance of the groom, and you sort yourself in order. Shoes are good, hair is good, dress is good, you are good to go; and once youre over this hiccup you can party with Laura and the other bridesmaids.

“Look, I’m sorry-” Adrian starts as you link your arm in his own. He looks so fucking good in the suit, so good you need him to shut up before the last of your dignity leaves you. 

“Don't even worry about it,” you say, still not looking at him, “We’re even, remember?”

Adrian seems to deflate at your words, but if you know Adrian you know that doesn't mean he’s given up.

“I’m just saying, you didn't deserve that. I should have stayed.”

You eye up Gina in front of you, her long hair cascading down her back, happily joking with the best man. Mike’s now behind you, with Laura’s work friend. Adrian’s arm feels like a cage around you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, trying to focus on how it feels to be hungover in stilettos. Bad, but you can use that pain as a distraction. 

“See, you say that,” you're in for an Adrian rant, and you wish you could appreciate it, “But you won't look at me, and then your speech last night had me thinking, and then you didn't let me talk to you about it after you drank a lot of tequila with my brother and even though I drove you home you wouldnt let me make sure you drank your water.”

He looks at you with expectant eyes, asking you to crack.

He says it so easily, as if his mini rant doesnt throw a spear through the heart of your barely calm and cool persona. As if your blood doesn't run cold knowing Adrian was in the airbnb again, only to care for you and look out for your safety. Adrian is a good guy, and as your pinky toe pinches in the straps of the stiletto while you rock away from him, you regret never calling most of all. Your eyes search his face for an hint of a lie, but you can't find one. So you do what you can, you look away from him.

“I drank the water,” is all you can say, the tip of the iceberg of what you really mean. His free hand squeezes your elbow, an exchange.

The opening chords of the organist strike, and you recoil at the sound, sighing deeply as everyone readies themselves. 

Gina is all you want to focus on, her two braids tied into the curls the stylist sweat over in a half up-do that would rival what the wig makers on Game of Thrones could do. 

“But anyways, I’m trying to apologize.”

You can't even find a bobby pin sticking out on her whole head.

“I don't want an apology.”

You want to run away again. You want to fuck him in the bathroom of this venue. You want to fight him to the death. You want to stain his clean shaven cheek with your lipstick. 

 “Then what do you want? You're torturing me, and I would know, I’ve been tortured. This is like emotional though, not physical.”

Ignore whatever that means. 

“I want to know what you would have done if you didn't leave.”

Fuck, why did you say that? Quick, think about escape routes, find fire exits. Run for Mount Rainier, burn down the airbnb. Goodbye!

“Well, not fucking leave,” he starts, lowering his voice to a whisper when the doors open to reveal all of the guests.

You just tilt your head, yeah, figures. 

“You like everything bagels with chive and onion cream cheese, and I would have gotten you one. They make your breath smell like shit but I would have kissed you anyway just to prove a point.”

That's basically a confession of love right there. 

You and Adrian walk down the aisle, a smile tugging at your lips, but you refuse to let it stick. The venue is beautiful, sage green and pink everywhere, a flower arch out of some perfume commercial and trendy reclaimed wood galore.

“Can we just talk?” he asks, his voice rising and you immediately try to shush him as discreetly as you can. 

“Save a dance for me at the reception,” you whisper to him, preparing yourself to take your place in the line up at the altar.

“But I wanted to talk-”

You shush him again, a little harsher than you mean to, but he seems to get the idea.

“Oh! duh— I didn't bring a date! I don’t have a dance partner to begin with,” he answers, and the smile you’ve been trying to hide breaks through. You squeeze his arm as you leave his embrace and go to stand on your side.

You look out at the crowd, a lot of them unfamiliar faces. A few friends from Laura’s major and their partners, a few cousins and kids you met when you went to her summer house, a few of Gut’s friends on the other side (save for Chris Smith, thank fucking god, you would absolutely not be surviving this if you had to hear him say anything about your tits) and Gut’s cousins from Northern California. You stop for a moment on two empty chairs, for Gut and Adrian’s parents. Suddenly you're sixteen again, watching Adrian push you away for the comfort of shooting ranges instead of talking about his own parents' deaths as a result of a car chase gone wrong. Your eye’s flicker to Adrian, his eyes already set straight on you, his smile not matching how his eyes scan you. Gut enters and practically power walks down the aisle, and you mote that theres already a noticeable amount of lipstick on the corner of his lips. 

The music changes. 

The most beautiful woman you've ever seen walks down the aisle.

You can feel Adrian’s eyes on you the entire ceremony.

Adrian doesn't leave your side the entire cocktail hour, following you around and asking about all of your drink and snack preferences. 

“I like pomegranate martinis, you know, a little Hades and Persephone thing going on?” You joke, and he orders you one from the drink station without a second glance.

“You mean like Hercules, the Disney movie?” he asks when he hands you your glass, hand steady and careful not to spill it.

You could scoff, or make a joke, or correct him, but instead you just smile and say, “Yeah, Adrian!” just to see his smile get even wider. 

“Thats a really good movie, even if its for kids,” he muses.

“So what does Adrian Chase drink?”

He pauses and thinks it over for a minute. 

“Yeungling,” he says, but he doesn't try to hide his grimace at the answer, his teeth bared and his eyes averted.

“So thats a lie,” you point out immediately over the rim of your glass. Adrian’s eyes dart over to where Laura and his brother are talking to some distant relative, definitely from Laura’s side. They're both the happiest you've ever seen them and you can’t help but to thank whatever cosmic power led them to meet. 

“Yeah, Gut says a bay breeze is chick stuff,” Adrian admits, and you figured this was the case. He was always pulling you down candy aisles or getting the really sweet stuff as far as slurpee flavors went. 

“Get the fucking bay breeze,” you tell him, and his whole face lights up. When was the last time this man got himself a girlie tropical drink?

“Okay! I mean, I've gotta hide it, but if you won’t judge me then I’ll do it,” he turns away from you, already ready to get the bartender’s attention again to order.

Theres a million things you want to say and all you can come up with is talking about his drinking habits? You only know where the guy works because you asked one of his cousins why the rehearsal dinner was at Fennell Fields and she told you he basically was allowed to book the back room for free because he worked there. You have so many things to ask him, so many things to say, and you ask him about a fucking drink. 

“You were right, this is way better. You said we could talk now?” he asks, not hiding his eagerness as he talks with the bendy straw still between his teeth. 

You exhale harshly, pushing the air through your nose, nodding. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, not wanting to correct him that the cocktail hour technically isnt the reception. Thats an easy mistake to make, its close enough.

He nods his head towards the back doors, leading out to the gardens that a few people are at, but its much less crowded than the venue proper. At least hes giving you that safety net. 

Each step feels heavier, and you once again curse the fact that Laura is a stilettos girl and made you be the same for a weekend. But the garden is beautiful, it looks like a small town in Washington’s version of the Versailles gardens, which you've never seen outside of Google images so it doesn't matter to miss out on the real thing.

He leads you to a bench, and pats it as he sits down on one end. You sweep the flow skirt under you and sit too, thankful to be off your feet after the past few hours.

"You can take those off if you want," he points his glass at your heels, "We can swap? They don't look comfy."

"We can't swap," you chuckle, but you unbuckle the heels and stretch your feet on the pavement.

“Well, we should talk,” he says, as if prompting you. The whole situation feels like there’s some kind of teleprompter you should be able to read, some magical thing to say, but there’s not. You don’t have words, just feelings. The anxiety, the joy, the ecstasy, the profound sadness and emptiness of the whole thing. There’s no way to put it into words. You don’t know how to word that you’ve forgotten him for maybe only ten of the months you’ve been away. Often wondering with other dates if Adrian was nicer than them, if he was dating. Wondering if Adrian was having a good life, if Adrian made friends. Seldom you forgot about him. And none of it you can voice without sounding worse than you already are.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down into your martini, the last few sips staring back at you. 

“You’ve said that already. Can I talk?” he asks. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Like I said before, you didn't deserve that.”

“I kinda did,” you offer, shrugging.

“Will you stop?” he asks, his eyes widening behind his glasses. You only grimace and nod for him to continue. 

“Sorry, anyway, you didn't deserve that. I know you had to have a good reason for leaving without saying anything. And I have to admit, I have kept tabs on you. Not in a creepy way,” he pauses, “Maybe in a creepy way, but not in an illegal way. When the library put up the article about your job in Gotham I took it because that's not real stealing, everything is free in the library.”

That's not how libraries work. You remember that article, you were put on a 30 under 30 article for art and design in Gotham; you just didn't know the article made its way back to Evergreen. It's sweet that he stole the article, even though he could have just bought a copy of the magazine. 

You nod at him, needing him to continue. 

“And then when I saw you it all just kinda, came up, you know?”

You do know. Its that same vacuum that sucked air from your lungs and slowed the time down in that fucking Hooters that now feels so much more meaningful and cosmic instead of being what it is. God, what a place for a reunion. 

“Yeah, I know,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t want to be mean, but I felt like I had to, I don’t know why.”

But you know why, you know exactly why.

“No it’s fine, I would have done the same,” you say, the knuckle of your free hand brushing the soft material of his suit pants.

“Yeah. I know,” he laughs, his smile overtaking all of his features. This feels normal, finally. You’re on the same wavelength. 

“And I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Laura for taking my best friend position once I heard about you guys in college.”

You roll your eyes, letting yourself lean into him, his shoulder warm under his shirt. His arms look fucking good, with the crisp white 

“Where’d your suit jacket go?” you ask, lowering your head to rest it against him. 

“Gut’s gonna kill me,” he answers, and you can pretty much assume he’s lost it. 

Laughter escapes your lips, loud and almost cackling, and you sit back up so as to not spill your drink as the laughter keeps coming. Adrian joins in, his eyes closed behind those glasses that haven't changed in the past fifteen years, laughter boisterous and light. 

“Can we start over?” you interrupt your own laughter, setting your glass down on the ground next to the bench. 

Adrian’s laughter subsides, and he goes quiet. He thinks about it for a second. 

“Hmm, no,” he answers. Your hands fall limp in your lap, the skirt of your dress making a light swooshing noise at the contact. He could have punched you just now and it would have been less of a surprise to you. 

“Oh,” you sigh, trying and failing to play it cool. Your shoulders feel heavy. 

“I can’t start over with someone who’s seen my penis… or wore my retainer when she lost hers. Which was really gross,” he laughs, this time a subdued chuckle with a hint of nostalgia, and his eyes travel up and down your body again. You shiver under his gaze. 

“Yeah, that was nasty,” you admit, but your teeth are straight no matter what. 

You both go quiet, staring out at the treeline behind the venue. A cosmic reset. His hand scoots closer to you on the seat of the bench. The wind whistles and Party Rock Anthem is muffled and obscured by the glass doors leading back into the cocktail hour. 

“So your brother and my college roommate, huh?” you break the stillness.

“Yeah, it's uh,” he looks down at his watch, “almost the end of cocktail hour. We get to walk in together, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “You made sure of that with the stunt you pulled this morning.”

If he's at all embarrassed, he doesn't show it.

You stand up, rolling your eyes. 

“C’mon,” you say, holding your hand out to him. 

A cosmic restart.

“And here is your wedding party!” the DJ announces over the microphone. The first couple dances out from under the sting light arch, offbeat and singing along. Then the second. After the third it's you and Adrian, and you can feel him starting to get antsy. 

“We’ll be fine,” you reassure him, brushing your knuckles against his. 

“Don’t hate me for this,” he whisper-shouts over the music. 

You don't have time to even think about what that means because the couple in front of you dances out, but now you're anxious and rigid in your heels. You step into the spotlight, and your cue comes.

But Adrian has other plans, apparently, as he bends down to let his big strong arms (wow are you happy he grew these in your absence) circle your thighs and he hoists you over his shoulder. 

You wave awkwardly at all the guests sat for dinner, cackling and slapping Adrian’s back to the beat of the music, Adrians laugh filling your space as he awkwardly dance- walks you across the dance floor to where the other wedding party members are standing and talking, waiting for dinner and the reception to officially begin. You feel giddy, like a late night drive in the summer after Adrian got his license, like when you walked into prom holding Adrian’s hand like you’d just won the lottery. His hands are warm, incredibly so, and his muscles are taut against you.

Fuck, you’d like to feel his muscles against you in - nope, hold that thought. You want to repair whatever this is with Adrian, not be a slut at your friend’s wedding. 

When you finally reach your spot, he holds you there for a few moments, his big hands squeezing the backs of your thighs before he puts you down gently. You miss the feeling of his hands on you. 

Dinner and more speeches go off wonderfully, and you're thankful you get to stay quiet this time, few eyes on you throughout all of the formal stuff, except for Laura. Sure, her main focus are the speakers and her new husband, but you've caught more than one sneaky glance your way, and you know exactly what that means. Before they leave for their honeymoon in Cabo, she's going to corner you and ask if you and her new brother-in-law are doing anything. And knowing her, she’ll already know the answer.

Adrian nudges you when the plates are cleared by the caterers during the first dance, drawing your eyes away from the happy couple dancing to him, apprehension apparent on his face. You realize that you really haven't spoken to him since he put you down.

“Do you want to… maybe, go out there when they’re done being a lovely couple?” he asks. 

“I mean, yeah. I told you to save me a dance,” you respond, and Adrian’s shoulders visibly sag in relief like a weight has just been taken off of them. 

And you're lucky enough that your anxiousness is spared that the next two songs and the family dances go by as quickly as they can, and the dancefloor opens for everyone with Vienna by Billy Joel. You look over to Adrian, winking as you rise from your seat, your hand reaching out to lead him away from the table. 

He, to your surprise, grabs your hand firmly and lets you lead him out, and you become one of the first couples out on the dance floor. People trickle in after, but they're all peripheral noise and shapes as Adrian’s hands find purchase on your hips.

“I’m glad you're here without a date,” Adrian admits, without a hint of shame in his voice. 

“I’m glad you're here without a date too, or else this whole weekend would have been a lot more complicated than it already has been,” you offer honestly, and lean into his swaying. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck absentmindedly.  

“It wasn't that complicated,” he says, “We’re just bad at feelings.”

Understatement of the century, you think, but yeah, that checks out. You'd both had hurt feelings and both been weird about it. He hums along as he pulls you closer, your chests almost touching, the heat tangible between you. It's going to be hard to keep your cool around Adrian all night without wanting to be even closer, without wanting to kiss him. Maybe you can kiss him afterward. 

“Did you become a Billy Joel fan while I was gone?” you joke, knowing that his taste was a lot more girl pop or harder rock when you last saw him.

“Billy Joel? I thought this was Bruno Mars!”

You want to ask him if he's joking but you already know the answer to that. 

“Yeah, I mean they're easy to mix up,” you say, and he nods. 

“I really missed you, Adrian,” you finally admit, “I wish I-”

“I wish that you would just let it go, troll under the bridge. Lets have fun before you have to leave again,” he interrupts.

“Well actually,” you readjust your arms, more of a hug than a dance now, “I’m here until next Monday, and I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. Laura lives here now so…”

“So you have a reason to come out here?” he asks, hopeful. 

“You’re a reason to come out here too, if you want to be,” you assure him, and his fingers dig into your hips, the material of the skirt bunching under his palms. 

“Really? I do, I want to be-”

Fuck it, you think. Be a slut, do what you want. 

You pull Adrian into a kiss, cutting him off mid sentence. He hums, the death of a word coming to die from his lips to yours, and his form melts around yours, his grasp on you growing firmer pressing you against him 

“I knew it!” you hear Laura scream, “I fucking knew it!”

But you don't dare pull away from Adrian to laugh with the bride. He keeps swaying, off tempo to the song, but perfect for you. His lips curl up into a smile and his own laughter breaks the kiss, though. 

“Do you want to go have sex again?” he asks bluntly, slightly breathless from his own laughter. 

Unlike the other night, you're pushing him down onto the mattress tonight, Adrian eagerly shuffling further up onto the bed as you hike up your skirt to climb on top of him. You stop when you're over his hips, letting the skirt pool around him, your flimsy underwear leaving you feeling bare and hot against Adrian’s pants. 

You pull him up by his tie, your mouths meeting in the space between you for another sloppy kiss, open-mouthed and wet.  You both fall back into the sheets, kissing as your hands move to the knot of the tie. You fiddle with the knot, pulling it one way, then the other, trying to loosen it without breaking the kiss to look at it. 

Cmon, cmon.

You feel it tighten against his collar instead of loosen. You have to pull away. 

Adrian’s lips chase yours, not opening his eyes until he hears you speak.

“Get rid of the tie, I can't do it!” you demand, your hands instead starting to work at buttons lower down on his chest. He laughs, but his hands leave your body to pull the tie loose, and he does it easily. He slips the stupid thing off of his neck and flings it into the dimness of the room. You're free to unbutton all of his shirt now, pulling at where it's tucked into his pants to get it off of him. 

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think, as you finally get to take in his bare chest. He's got muscle, he's buff, with the lightest dusting of hair between his pectorals and light freckles that you remember.

You pull him back up to sit so he can remove his shirt and you find that to be the wrong move. As he sits up, his hips shift against your core, and you struggle to bite back a needy moan. 

“Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“Nope,” you shake your head, biting down on your lip at the friction. 

“No? Then you wouldn't mind if I…” he trails off, tilting his hips up into yours again. This time, you feel him rock hard against you, and you whine desperately. Fucking bastard. Adrian chuckles, and you decide to get your revenge.

You push him back down on the mattress the moment the offending shirt is shed, latching your lips onto the expanse of his neck, kissing a wet trail in your wake as he gasps and grunts below you.

“I was so mean to you,” he gasps as you bite at his collarbone, “Do you want to punish me for that?”

Who the fuck is Adrian fucking? Is the first thought through your head. Punish him? What kind of kinky shit does he get up to?

“Don’t wanna punish you,” you dismiss, “Just wanna have you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, his lips dragging against your hairline as he pulls you lower on top of him until your chests meet, “Still on the table, though.”

You'll keep that in mind.

“Get this dress off,” he groans, equally struggling with the zipper until he finally just rips the hook and eye at the top of it, the zip sliding down your back easily for him after that. You’re definitely going to have to get that repaired, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Adrian is pulling the material off of you half crazed, trying to have you bare against him as soon as he can. He pulls the dress up over your head, maybe not the easiest way to discard it, your arms struggling to untangle from the straps as he unwraps you. You help him push all of the bunched up material across your chest and over you, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bodice finally comes off of you and you can both drop the dress off the edge of the bed, and his hands immediately working their way to your chest.

His thumb brushes against the faded mark on your breast that he left the other night, sending a shiver down your spine. You're sure he's about to leave even more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, squeezing at you while his eyes take you in. You’re glad now that you opted for the ‘sexier’ of the no-show underwear you picked out under the dress. 

“Thought you said women don’t like being called hot,” you joke, recalling his previous words.

“Right, pretty,” he corrects himself, and you have to shake your head. 

“I’m fucking with you,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he retorts, and quickly flips you over, pinning you underneath him. 

“So so pretty like this,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your body, stoking the fires of your arousal.

You’ll keep that in mind, too. 

You grab at the sheets, balling the cotton in your fists as Adrian’s hands finally make their way between your thighs. He presses his fingers to your clothed cunt, and you both sigh at the contact. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, all the boldness gone from your tone now that he’s got you like this. 

“I’ll do you one better!” he says, and moves himself down the bed, removing his hand only so he can remove your panties. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks, repositioning you for his own easy access. You nod, tilting your hips up towards him. He puts your legs on his shoulders, and slowly creeps in. 

His hot breath fans out over your cunt, his glasses fogging as he looks up at you, the way his cheeks and nose scrunch lets you know that he’s grinning like a maniac. 

Without warning, he darts his tongue out, licking between your folds and only stopping when the tip of his tongue meets your clit. 

You whine, needy and unexpected, and try to quiet yourself again. You feel him as he exhales through his nose, maybe laughing at your desperation, and moves his tongue; small, deliberate licks against your clit that have you hitching your breath with each one.

“Please,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the sheets so tight you could rip them. Adrian dives in like a man starved, his tongue dipping into you and the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. He licks into you like your cunt is what keeps him alive, like the water of life. You moan, languid and loud; his big hands flatten out, one against your stomach and the other along the underside of your breast.

Where the fuck did Adrian Chase learn this? Maybe you don't want to know, maybe you just want to enjoy the skills for what they are. His lips move in tandem with his tongue, not hiding the slurping sounds his mouth makes; fuck, he worships you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, at first a slow bubble, and then a sudden boil. Your moans turn almost to screams as you shake under him, your thighs tightening around his head.

Adrian’s having none of that, though. He removes his hands from you, moving them to your thighs to hold them in place. Without the leverage of your legs, your back arches almost painfully, leaning into your orgasm as it shakes your entire system, Adrian just happily working you through it, gradually slowing down his mouths movements as your breathing becomes more and more regulated.

“Good?” he asks, when he finally moves his mouth away from you. Everything from his nose to his chin is soaked in you. 

“Y-yeah,” you pant, still catching yourself.

“Good, then you’re ready for me,” he says, smirking as he untangles from your thighs and moves back up. He kisses your cheek, decidedly not letting you taste yourself at this moment. Somehow, in your haze, you hadn't noticed that he’d gotten rid of his pants. 

You already feel him, heavy and hard, resting against your entrance, and immediately you need more no matter how sensitive you might be.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell him, and he chuckles.

“Not for this,” and he pushes in to the hilt. He gives you no mercy, like he said he wouldn't. He gives you no time to adjust to his size. You yelp, both in surprise and in pleasure, and he picks up his pace as if your noise was permission.

“Fuck, prettiest girl I’ve ever known, all laid out for me, all for me,” he babbles, his lips just barely brushing yours as he stays close. 

“All for you,” your voice comes out in a moan, all control of your volume and tone lost; the fire already building in you again.

“Gonna give you everything, all for you,” he says, like a promise, his own voice strained. 

He doesn't hold back in his pace, pushing in all the way each time, deep and hard, a slamming pace. He's not gentle, but the way that he looks at you is full of all of the affection and sweetness he holds for you. This is your best friend. This is… whatever he is beyond that. 

“Adrian, kiss me,” you beg, wanting to seal yourself to him, to connect. 

“But I might taste-”

“I don’t care.”

That's all he has to hear, and once the kisses start, they don't stop.  He moves a little awkwardly at first, his pace faltering slightly to adjust for this connection, but he finds his rhythm again. He thrusts sharply, your hips moving to meet him as best you can, your bodies moving in sync with your pleasure. He quickens his pace, his kisses getting harsher, more bruising. Adrian is a kisser, you realize. He likes it like this. 

“I’m gonna—,” he gasps after his harshest thrust yet, and you grab his hips, holding him close. 

“Go ahead,” you say, breathless yourself and ready to lose your own composure. 

He pumps into you harder, his hips snapping against you sure to bruise. Adrian’s hand leaves your hip to move his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles that choke out sobs from your throat. It's hard to hold on, both physically to his hips but also to your composure. Every thought of him, him, him, and the fire inside of you that fights to escape. 

“Adrian, please,” you beg, voice watery and desperate, and he obeys, speeding up his movements until you scream, and shake, and lose everything. Your mind whites-out. No thoughts but the specific shade of green of his eyes. 

And when you come back you feel full, sticky and hot. Adrian holds you tightly, still inside you, snuggling you close and cradling your body to him. He's shushing you and pressing kisses into your skin, muttering sweet nothings to soothe you. Fuck, thats never happened before. 

“That was good?” you ask, breathless laughter in your tone. 

“Now I know you have to be joking with me,” he says, pulling back slightly, “That was mind-blowing! Literally.”

He pulls away more, and you reach out to reel him back into your embrace. Adrian reassures you he’ll be right back. Even after all of this, the tiniest doubt creeps in, and when he backs out of the room, boxers in hand, you pull the sheets up over you tightly. 

He comes back into the room with two glasses of water in only his boxers, a sight you want to get used to. He places the glasses down on the nightstand and throws the covers over the both of you, enveloping you in their warmth and his. Adrian runs like a furnace.

“Can you stay this time?” Your voice is small, vulnerable. Adrian’s warm hand cups your cheek, and he shimmies closer to you under the covers. 

“How much does a flight to Gotham cost?” he asks, deadly serious. 

You balk at his question.

“Adrian, you can't uproot your life for me,” you insist, feeling bad suddenly about the way you continue to cling to him, hands pressed into his back to hold him to you. 

“Psh, who said that? I figure maybe Evergreen can survive without me for a week or so. I wanna take you on a real date,” he snuggles closer, curling the blankets further over you. Your own little world, a little bubble just for the two of you. 

You’ll remind him that Gotham is currently surviving a week without you, too, in the morning. 

“I’d like that,” you say, sleep sinking into the edges of your voice. 

“Get some rest,” he says, sounding just as sleepy, his head feeling heavier against you, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

He is. 

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hiii i love ur writing so i have a request for tommy shelby but its kinda weird so feel free to ignore it so this is how it goese

Readrer and tommy are childhood friends and he always loved her but didnt tell her andd one day the reader gets with someone and they do the deed and tommy finds out and also he kinda like brags it to tommy so he gets angry and either kills him or hurt him badly and when she finds out shes like super angry n screaming cursing like full angst but then a happy ending after a few years or anything basically ill leave it up to u

Thank you

Love

Hey Anon,

Thank you for this cute request. I really tried for angsty but may have failed slightly. Hope you still enjoy it and thank you for waiting so so so long. <3

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, happy ending, descriptions of panic

Tommy was sure that his life was comprised of inconvenient moments. He was born early, setting the rest of his life off balance. Everything happened a few moments too late or too soon. He was used to struggling enough as it was but this bad luck weighed heavily on his shoulders today.

The current moment he was caught on, was you getting stuck on the opposite side of the city, making you miss his train departing for the war. The exact moment he was going to kiss you and tell you to wait for him. A situation that could have been completely avoided if he’d just listened to Arthur and asked you out ages ago. 

He’d had to wait for your letter that was delivered wrongly three times before finally finding him. His annoyance was buried under the relief he felt knowing you’d not stood him up. Just got tangled up in his bad luck. He had a moment where he was tempted to write back. Confess everything. The thought that he’d not be able to see you react prevented him from writing anything of meaning. What if he wrote you something soul-baring and it destroyed his only friendship outside his family? In person he could be casual and see if you showed interest, then he could proceed to the soul-baring nonsense. 

He just had to make it out of this alive. 

Getting home he almost regretted that choice. He was broken, and you were hardened by the hardship of running things with Pol, but still very much intact. 

Your eyes and bright smile seemed to follow him everywhere. So much of himself had sunk away. The realization that if he took you, he’d have to share you with his ominous bad luck. A belief that was only further reinforced by the obvious interactions with his family. No matter how much he tried. Someone always needed you or wanted in on the conversation. 

Feeling defeated and jaded he got lost in his plans to push the business, something he thought was productive till it created a larger rift in the family. A divide you’d not chosen a side for yet. 

Just when things had really spun out of control a large sum of inventory fell into his lap. One of great importance to the government. 

All that running around and yet he still noticed the way you left work that evening, hair and makeup done. Fancy dress. Everything for someone else. 

He rarely had feelings anymore, but when he watched you greet him on the sidewalk a sharp pain emerged in his chest. One that he hoped would grow to consume him whole before sending him to the grave. 

But he was granted no such luck. 

____

Three days and you’d been off in your own thoughts, thoughts about someone else when all he could do was think about you. 

“Alright, Tom?” You’d asked putting the kettle on. 

“Fine.” He answered in an even tone before pulling out a cigarette. 

“Things between us-” Your words grabbed his interest just as John came through the kitchen entry. 

“Got a lot of folks down there, help Pol.” He asked you easily before moving to take your spot at the stove. You gave him a look. He had no idea what it meant but he felt stupid thinking it was anything at all. You hurried down the stairs. 

“What’s that about?” John asked pouring the hot water into the worn tea pot.  

“I’d know if you didn't interrupt her.”

“Don’t like that new fella of hers,” John said ignoring him. 

“Why?” Tommy hoped there would be a valid reason. Something he could save you from before stealing you away. 

“He’s not you.” John laughed. “If I knew you were going to leave her up for grabs, I would have snagged her ages ago.” 

Tommy didn't have the energy to respond. He only picked up the newspaper and went back to sulking. 

_______________________

The day ended in the Garrison. Some Irish broad decided to sing a song meaning it was his time to leave before he burnt the place down. Getting up from the nook he gave John a nod and they both moved outside. 

“What a bunch o’ whining,” John muttered pulling out a cigarette, Tommy did the same. They both stood there enjoying the cold air when he noticed a few men approaching from further up the alleyway.

“Shelby!” One of the men called out. He was clearly high on liquid courage as his voice slurred. Tommy turned in his direction catching the look of enjoyment on John’s face. 

The men continued shouting till they finally came out of the shadows. The tallest man was unmistakable and for once he was more excited for a fight than John was. 

“What you on about?” John asked flicking his cigarette at them. 

“Slept with your sweetie! Billy Kimber sends his regards.” The men began laughing and Tommy felt a small flicker of something growing in his chest. 

It didn’t take much from him and John before the men were badly bloodied. 

“You leave what’s mine alone. Now give my regards to Mr. Kimber.” He spat on them as John pulled him back, looking down at them he wondered if they were dead. 

He on the other hand felt very much alive. A momentary sense of victory washed over him and let out a breath he’d been holding for what felt like years. 

They enjoyed the cold walk back to the flat, his mind on high alert thinking of all the possible outcomes that could be around the corned. Seeing you sitting with Polly at the kitchen table made everything in his head fall silent. 

He’d slept with her because of him. 

You and Pol sprung into a million questions. He thought about telling you but decided to descend the stairs up to his room. 

“Tom” John’s voice called out from the landing and he looked down at him over the railing. He made a bunch of gestures that translated to something along the lines of  “This is your shot with her - stop fucking it up.”

“Later.” He said quietly before continuing up the stairs. He needed to think of a plan. 

Kimber was already all over them, Campbell right behind him. Then there was the Lee family. Finally, the mob boss of all the problems, how angry you were going to be when you found out. 

He sat there on the bed, the pain from the hits he’d not avoided starting to sink in. 

________________________________________________________________________

Reader POV 

You were conflicted about Tommy. Well, you were always conflicted about Tommy these days. You were overwhelmed with joy and felt sure that he’d not waste any time with you once he’d gotten home. 

You gave him a timeline in your mind. If he didn't ask you out within the first month of being back you’d move on. 

Easier said than done. Especially when he and John come home looking like they’d just slaughtered a bunch of pigs. All for the mystery business Tom was conducting behind your back. 

You sighed and said good night to Pol before walking home. You were waiting for one of the boys to do it, but that didn't look likely. You were about to tie your jacket when Arthur came downstairs. 

“Walk you home, love.” He said while opening the front door. 

“Thanks.” You said before following him out into the darkness. You rarely spent alone time with the eldest Shelby and wondered what you would talk about. You set out down the street wishing you’d brought an extra sweater. 

“Now, I know you're probably mad about what went down. But there's a few things you gotta understand ‘bout Thomas.” 

“Oh?” You didn't know what he was going off about but decided to play along. 

“He means well, just gets all twisted up inside his big head. Wants to get the family out of this” He waved his hand around, gesturing to the heaps of garbage spilling out of a dumpster in the alley they were passing. “ I don't think he wants to bring you any closer to himself in case you get hurt in the process.”

“Look while all of you were gone I was in the line of fire more than anyone ‘round here. I can handle myself” You growled tired of always being brushed off and looked down on. Amusement flashed in Arthur's eyes but he knew better than to let it reach his face. 

“I know love, I’m just telling you he loves you he’s just at war with him self -” 

“He loves me?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to Arthur. His face flushed obviously realizing he’d said too much. 

“We’ll I - I thought that was a bit obvious - ya know” He shrugged while looking up at the sky awkwardly looking for the right words to fix things. “Why else would he do that?” 

“Do what? Be distant and miserable?”

“Well yeah, that’s what it's like for us blokes” He shook his head “No, I mean he almost killed that bloke for ya. Working for Kimber this whole time, John said it was a blood bath - Havent had to pull him off someone like that in - well, possibly ever.” 

Your stomach knotted up painfully and you looked at Arthur in disbelief. 

“Don’t beat yourself up lamb, men are truly awful creatures if not tamed by the right crowd -” Arthur trailed off but you stopped listening. That bastard - he lied - or is Tommy lying? 

No way he was working for Kimber - this was just Tommy, trying to get his way the only way he knew how. You felt the anger bubble up inside you. 

“I’m going to kill him,” You said breathlessly as hot rage started to spill over the edges of your mind. 

“Ah Women -” You slapped Arthur’s arm before turning and running back towards the apartment. You threw the door open and ascended the stairs. Polly stepped out of her bedroom looking startled in her nightgown. 

“What the -” She started but her voice was drowned out by the blood pounding in your ears. You opened his door and saw him perched on the side of his bed. He’d changed and cleaned himself up, his face looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“YOU MOTHER FUCKER-” You shouted and something heavy dislodged itself from your chest causing a long stream of abuse to fall out of your mouth.. You hated how well he took it. Sitting there, watching you patiently on his bed with an unamused expression. It drove you insane, the way his eyes followed you. You’d kicked off your shoes and thrown them in his direction. 

“You can’t just make up stories and beat people up because your too cowardly to do the right thing. If you liked me then you should have loved me. Been kind to me, been there for me. Instead you just - you just - act like a fucking monster all the time -” You’d been throwing things around the room a large vase smashed at your feet.

“You don’t love me and he doesn't work for Kimber.” You said finally, looking down at the glass surrounding your sock-covered feet. Slight miscalculation. Your eyes were filled with tears and despite wanting to shout a thousand more curses at him, your throat had closed up tightly. 

He stood up and moved towards you. His hands picked you up by the arms and you were too startled by his calm nature to do anything other than let him move you. He placed you on top of his bed, you looked down at him only slightly taller than him with the bed under you. 

He pinched your jaw and looked you dead in the eye. 

“I do love you.” He said firmly and you couldn't bring yourself to look away from his wide eyes. Filled with things you hadn't seen in so many years. 

“This is my fault, you understand? I should have told you long before you fell into his grip. My fault - so I’ll apologize.” You watched him carefully. “I’m sorry.” His voice was low and his breath brushed across your face. 

You were too consumed with his close proximity to feel the full weight of his words. His eyes held you in a way that made you know you were seen. You had all of his attention. 

“I want proof.” You murmured under direct order from the one part of your brain that was still functioning. He put the final nail in the coffin when he gave you a small crooked smile. 

“Then I’ll get you proof.” He said back, amusement plain on his face. With your jaw still trapped between his fingers you felt him press his lips to yours. There was a starving neediness that had been weighing on you both for so many years. No amount of kissing or passion could possibly satisfy the feelings inside of you. You grabbed for him and held him as close to you as possible. All that anger only intensified the heat that was radiating through your body. 

He pulled away from you and your fingers started to work open the top button of his shirt. His hand grabbed both of yours and his eyes caught yours again. 

“Stay here, alright. Wait for me, for the last time eh?” 

“Why?” 

“Going to go get your proof.” He moved away from you and you stepped off the bed. “Stay.” He motioned to the bed. “Lots is going to happen tonight. But I need you to run things tomorrow with Pol. Keep the place a float.” 

“Alright, when will you be back?” You started to get angry again at his secret keeping. 

“To try and sort things between Kimber, then hopefully deal with Campbell. Won’t be gone long - Keep the place safe, take the gun in the drawer. Keep it on you at all times.” 

You nodded at him then watched the back of him walk away like so many times before. Something settled in your bones. 

The next three days it was like in the war, back up at all times waiting for something to happen. But on the third night, he finally came back to you. The door opened and you saw him move into the small bathroom to clean himself off. 

He pushed you across the bed and climbed in beside you. You looked as he handed you a piece of folded paper. There were bloody fingerprints soaked into the paper making you wish you had a hanker chief to cover your fingers. 

Opening it you could tell it was a pay stub made out to that idiot, signed by none other than Billy Kimber. Your stomach twisted painfully, and you wished you had a mother to tell. Someone that knew the embarrassment and shame, someone to tell you how to carry it. You wished this could have been some normal heartbreak where you can push it down and never speak of it again, but here it was on display. 

“Oh.” You whispered not knowing what else to do. 

“There’s your proof.” He said a faint sound of victory in his tired tone. His reaction made you angry all over again, but before you could lay into him about thinking this was funny he put his arms around you pulling you against his chest. “Finally fucking won one.” He let out a long breath. 

“What do you mean?” You whispered. They won the war, won various street fights, they’d really rarely lost. 

“Been trying to ask you since we were 12.” He mumbled placing a kiss to your neck that made your heart flutter. You let out a small laugh. “Now I won’t have another day where I'm not beside you. No war, no work here you don't know about or can't handle. Nothing between us.” His words warmed your heart, and years of pain fell from his features. He sounded like your best friend again, filled with dreams and wonder. 

“Except clothes.” You said in a coy tone. His eyes opened and he took no time manhandling you causing a much-needed loud laugh to escape from your chest.

[timetorace]

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭

HELLO! My first Max one shot, so excited for this one. To the anon that requested it: Thank u so much I hope you like it. 

ship: max verstappen x toto wolff daughter!reader.

summary: Five years ago you used to love Max but you had to say goodbye, will you be able to save what you could have been?

warnings:  SMUT. SMUT. Unprotected sex. Oral (f! receiving). Doggy style. Dirty words. 

word count: +6.0K

waity katie: Catherine Middleton was given the nickname “Waity Katie” to mock her because of the time Prince William took to propose to her.

May 2017 | Monte Carlo, Monaco

It was raining buckets; you weren’t surprised it rained that week. It was almost a tradition that it rained for the Monaco Grand Prix. All of Monaco was in a bubble after yesterday’s race but you were going to see him. You had decided that you had had enough. Max and you had been seeing each other secretly for a year now, long enough for both of you to know what you wanted. You had been mulling over going public since the beginning of the year while Max was still scared of the consequences. Or at least that’s what you thought at first. Now you weren’t sure anymore, especially after last night. You and Max had hung out with his friends and some mutual friends who worked on some teams. The club was full, but even so, when you had returned from the bathroom you had heard how one of Max’s friends called you “waity Katie”, the rest laughed and Max just stood there, said nothing or moved. You didn’t even try to say anything. The problem was that this had been like a wake-up call for you because when you arrived home you couldn’t stop thinking and seeing what you had lost.

When you thought about it, you realized the signs were always there, the way he changed the subject when you talked about going public with what they had or at least telling people around you like your dad. Oh, your dad. That was another thing. Your dad was Toto Wolff, who had tried to get Max to sign with Mercedes instead of Red Bull a couple of years ago but he had failed. Your dad would not be too happy that you got involved with a driver. They were strictly forbidden, especially since you were only 19 years old and most of them were much older than you.

You felt like a toy, after not sleeping the night before thinking about it you had concluded that Max didn’t care enough about you, you really hoped you were wrong though. Because otherwise, you could already feel your heart breaking. You were afraid, afraid that Max wasn’t into you half as much as you were into him.

You let out a sigh as you got into the elevator and put in the magnetic key so you could go up to Max’s penthouse. That’s how serious you thought you were, you had the key to go up to his apartment; you liked to use it to go to his house after leaving work and cuddle up against him. You liked that. Now that made you feel so stupid. Haven’t you seen the signs? Or had you seen them and ignored them because you were too into him to recognize them? When the elevator stopped at the top floor and before the doors opened, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath to prepare yourself.

“Hey, you’re early,” Max greeted you when you got out of the elevator. He was in shorts and a T-shirt watching a soccer game on television.

“My boss let me go earlier,” you explained. You were interning at a venture capital firm and living with your father, Susie, Jack in Monte Carlo. Your father was more than happy because he had always kept you at a distance, living in Germany.

“Surely he saw you hadn’t closed an eye last night” You hadn’t but not for the reasons he believed. You hadn’t even had enough to drink to have a hangover, you hadn’t stopped giving the subject a run for its money.

“Yeah, probably” You shrugged and crossed your arms. If you were going to have that conversation, you were going to stand still.

“Are you okay?” he asked, frowning.

“Yes,” You hesitated “Well, no” You added, “I think we should tell them” By them, you meant your family, his family, and possibly Max’s PR team.

“I think it’s still too early”

“Soon? Max, we’ve been doing this for a year now” “This” was referring to whatever it was you had, until yesterday you thought it was a relationship but now you thought it had actually been just an adventure or an affair all this time. “My father will get over it,” you told him before Max winced and you knew it. Toto Wolff wasn’t his problem “But my father is not the problem” You murmured before closing your eyes “Oh my God” What a fool you had been. Max wasn’t afraid of what his father might say. He wanted you as his little toy, his secret. You let out a bitter laugh. Less than 24 hours ago you were sure that he loved you. How had life changed so fast? “Don’t” You told him, taking a step back when you saw Max get up from the couch to approach you.

“(Y/N)” He called you

“I don’t want to be your dirty little secret, Max,” you said, letting out a bitter laugh. That couldn’t be happening to you “I can’t and won’t be the other woman” Max was a young promise and the girls literally threw themselves at him. You had had to shut your mouth more than once in the last year when he was involved with other girls. And above all, believe him when he told you that everything was rumors. Had he lied about that too?

“You are not my dirty little secret” That was a lie. He knew it, you knew it.

“You treat me like one,” you pointed out. It was almost as if he was ashamed of you, but you knew that in reality, he was too immature to be honest with you about it “And I deserve more than that”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if you weren’t ready to commit, you just had to say so, Max! There was no need to have me hovering around you” You were angrier at his lack of honesty than anything else.

“It’s not that I lack commitment, it’s that for me it’s still too early”

You released an ironic laugh “You and your friends must have had the time of your lives laughing behind my back”

“No one is laughing at you, (Y/N)” He said in a calm tone that almost made you think it was all in your head.

“One of your friends called me 'waity Katie' yesterday” You pointed and saw how his expression changed to a mix between astonishment and surprise “Yes, I heard it, thanks for defending me by the way”

And then he did probably the thing that hurt you the most that night. The bastard shrugged. He shrugged. As if he didn’t care.

“They are just messing around” Was he downplaying it? Wh-What was going on? You had entered a parallel reality suddenly.

“And you let them do it?” you raised your eyebrows

“What am I supposed to do? A scene?”

“Em, yeah,” you told him as if it was obvious.

“Don’t be ridiculous”

“I’m not- “you started before stopping mid-sentence. It made little sense. He had already said everything you needed to know. He didn’t interest her. Not only was he not interested in whitewashing you, but he didn’t even care enough to stand up for you. "You know what?" You left the magnetic elevator key next to the coffee table next to the elevator. “Have a good life” You ended up turning to look at him one last time before walking towards the elevator.

“(Y/N)” He called you but you ignored him and pressed the elevator button.

“I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit,” you replied, looking into his eyes one last time. Max looked devastatingly beautiful, as always, even with that look on your face “Not anymore” you added before the doors closed in front of you. He didn’t come back. He just stood there.

You greeted the doorman on your way out of the building. Dammit. The storm had broken, and you hadn’t brought an umbrella. Could that day get worse? Apparently yes, because when you were halfway home, soaked to the feet, your phone vibrated with a text from Max.

Max: Call me when you calm down, please?

Call him? He wanted you to call him? Hadn’t he caught the vibe? If he wanted to talk to you, he knew where you lived. He could call you instead of asking you to do so. Suddenly you realized something else. It was always you who made the effort for you. You just sent him to hell, and he was making the minimum effort. How pathetic and painful. Not even the rain could erase the tears in your eyes. It was incredibly painful to find out that a person didn’t love you even a quarter of what you loved about him.

(Y/N): Do me a favor, delete this number.

———————————————————————————————

June 2022 | Montreal, Canada (Five years later)

There you were. Canada. It wasn’t like you didn’t like to travel and accompany your father from time to time, but Canada meant jet lag and jet lag. He insisted and you couldn’t tell him no, since you had moved back to the UK, you didn’t see each other as often. The bad part was that he hadn’t gotten a room in the same hotel as his, so you were staying somewhere else. What you didn’t know was that Max was staying in the same hotel as you. You were going down in the elevator to have breakfast when it stopped at the fifth floor and Max went up. Great. You two met twice but just exchanged glances or a brief hello, as if you were strangers as if you barely knew who each other was. Actually, for the rest of the world, it was like that. You two never existed.

You moved your leg up and down impatiently, looking at the floor numbers as the elevator descended. Just as they were about to take you downstairs, you saw out of the corner of your eye that Max, who had been staring at you ever since he entered the elevator, would open his mouth, ready to say something.

You beat him to it “Whatever it is, save it, I don’t want to hear it” You told him before the elevator doors opened and you shot out of there.

The fight between Red Bull and Mercedes was real. Especially after last year, when he had been world champion. You couldn’t help but be happy for him even when your father was still complaining about how Masi had given away the championship to Red Bull. Max deserved it because he was an incredible driver but also now everyone was doubting last year’s championship and you knew he wanted to show that he was worthy of being world champion. You could respect that.

That same night, when you were watching a movie and about to sleep, someone knocked on your door. When you looked through the peephole, you saw it was Max. You got nervous. Anyone could see him standing there in the middle of the corridor in front of his door.

You yanked the door open “What are you doing here? People are gonna see you,” you whispered before grabbing his arm and pulling him into your room to close the door behind him.

“I need to talk to you,” Max explained

“I don’t see why,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You know why”

“No, I don’t, I don’t read minds”

“I wanna talk about it” You knew that by “it” he probably meant the obvious. What had happened to you? You didn’t want to put labels on it because you didn’t even know if what they had qualified as a relationship.

“About what? You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, Max.” If he wanted to talk, then they were going to talk, but first, you were going to make him suffer a little.

“I wanted to talk about what happened, in Monaco, five years ago”

“You will say”

“You tried to give me an ultimatum” Oh, if that was how he was going to start by accusing you, then it would not end any better than last time.

“After a year Max, that doesn’t even count as an ultimatum, especially when you were supposed to be in a relationship,” you replied, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible. What you had had had been a relationship, at least for you.

“We were in a relationship,” Max corrected you.

“It didn’t seem like it.” You wanted to be as honest as possible. For a year it had seemed that way, but then you realized you had just ignored the signs.

“I’m sorry, for everything”

“You’re going to need more than that Max” That he apologized was the beginning, but now that he had stirred up the past, you wanted him to really mean it.

“I was an asshole” Max ruffled the hair on the back of his neck with his hand.

“Yes, you were” There was no point in denying it when it was what you thought.

“Thanks,” He replied with a sarcastic tone

“You said it first,” You shrugged

“I’m sorry I kept you in the dark and kept you a secret,” He clarified. At least he acknowledged that he had done wrong “You deserved more”

“That’s not even the problem” Actually it was okay for Max to admit that he had been wrong for keeping you a secret but that wasn’t even what hurt you the most “You made fun of me by letting other people put me nicknames” The fact that he had said nothing. Uff, that if he had hurt “You played games with me, I didn’t deserve that” The lie had bothered you the most. He just needed to be honest with you “You could just be honest and tell me you weren’t ready for commitment in the first place”

“You’re right, I was immature”

“Yes, you were”

“I should have been honest with you”

“Yes, you should have”

“And I should have said something that night at the club”

“Yes, you should have,” you repeated with a nod. You would deny nothing or try to make him feel better about it. If he wanted to be a big boy, then he had to accept his mistakes.

“Are you going to agree with everything I say? Well, that’s something new,” He scoffed.

You shrugged. “If you’re going, to tell the truth, I won't make you feel better about yourself.”

“I’m really, really sorry” He finished, and you believed him. After he listed the mistakes he had made, you believed him. It meant that he really knew that he was wrong and that he wasn’t saying it to sweeten your ears or because it was what he thought you wanted to hear.

“Because right now?” You asked, a little curious, why he had removed all this so many years later and why he seemed so eager to clear things up, “Why did you come?”

“Your perfume”

“What?”

“Today, in the elevator, I could smell your perfume,” Max explained “It reminded me of a lot of things, but it made me realize I miss you and that I could never fill the void that you left”

“We have crossed paths many times in the last few years,” you pointed out. You had not spoken, but you had seen each other on over one occasion afterward. It wasn’t like I saw you for the first time today.

“And I’ve always been able to ignore what I felt after seeing you, letting it go” Max nodded I understand what you were referring to. It was strange because his visit that night had taken you by surprise “Until today”

“And what happened today?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Today I couldn’t let go,” He said and you couldn’t help but gasp. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? “And I hate I can’t move on, get over you. Today I just stare there, watching you walk away from me and it felt painful” Oh God. Oh my God. He was saying what you thought he was saying. There were no doubts. You didn’t believe in destiny. You were a person of facts. If you couldn’t see it, you didn’t believe in it, but your heart wanted to believe Max. You hated when your heart got involved because he was the one who made you make stupid decisions.

“So…” you said after a moment of silence between the two of you, not sure how to continue that conversation or if there was actually anything else to say.

“So…”

“You like my perfume,” you told him, raising your eyebrows in mockery.

Max let out a laugh “I just gave you an entire book of apologies and that’s the only thing left in your head?”

You shrugged “You said my perfume made you come here, so it’s an important fact though” You answered before he took a step towards you, closing the distance between you “What are you doing?”

“I’m kissing you,” Max answered before leaning towards you to meet your lips with yours. That took you back in time, to those sneaky caresses, to those stolen kisses and secret encounters. It took you back to his apartment in Monaco, to his couch, petting Sassy, while Max watched a football match. It made you remember him and the familiarity of him and, unfortunately, you liked that a lot. He felt like home, he felt like he belonged. When you separated you stayed looking at him but you saw how his gaze lowered a little and you noticed that from above he had a good angle of your boobs under your pajama satin tank top.

“Stop,” you told him, crossing your arms over your chest to cover yourself.

“I didn’t do anything,” He replied, feigning innocence and raising his hands up.

You gave him a reproachful look. Clearly, he was looking at your boobs, taking advantage of the fact that he was a couple of centimeters taller than you. Honestly, you weren’t expecting visitors either, so you were in pajamas and without a bra, so you didn’t want to lower your eyes to see if your panties were showing on the satin.

“Ok, sorry, it’s not my fault they’re exposed like that”

You let out a laugh “Really? You just apologized and now you want to offend me again?”

“Is a compliment”

“You are very close to being kicked out of my room” You warned him

“What do I have to do so you don’t?” He asked to give you a puppy look. You hated the way he was a professional extortionist and the soft spot you had for him.

“Stop acting like a slug when I just forgave you,” You said, and he licked his lips almost without thinking, which made you unable to prevent your mind from drifting towards not holy thoughts.

“Ok, ok, I’m done,” He said, raising his hands in a sign of innocence before you approached him a little closer, bumping your chest against his to kiss him again. Were you acting contradictory? Yes, of course, you did, but suddenly you wondered how it would feel to run your hand through his hair. To feel again the sensation of your fingers massaging the nape of his neck.

“Who’s acting like a slug now?” He scoffed, briefly separating from you to rest the back of his head against yours.

“Shut up,” you complained before kissing him again so you wouldn’t have to listen to his arrogant and stupid mouth mocking you. Max was arrogant, and he knew what generated you, you were not immune to his charms and there was no point in denying it. What were you doing messing with him five years after you dumped him? Clearly, I wasn’t thinking rationally. You were thinking about your vagina. Were you going to regret it later? Definitely not because sex with him had always been good. Now, the problem was going to happen after that. Because if there was one thing you didn’t want, it was to go back to where you guys had been and there was no chance of getting back into a relationship with Max after what had happened. You weren’t sure you could bet on yourself again.

Your hands slid down the back of your neck caressing your hair. You remembered how much you liked to do that. Max grabbed you around the waist to lift you slightly into the air and carry you to the bed. You pulled him to you again by his shirt from him when he put you on the bed. He was still wearing the same perfume. You took a few seconds to inhale his scent. That felt familiar and felt too close to make you feel sentimental. That was a bad idea. You had to act and not think. You slid your hands to unbutton his jeans before removing the Red Bull polo shirt.

“You really want to undress me I see”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.” You had forgotten how arrogant he could be. As in everything he did, he liked to succeed in all areas of his life. You hated to admit it, but he fucked well and he was well aware of that.

He giggled and just kissed you again, making you smile between the kiss, remembering how much fun you guys could have together. Max grabbed the edge of your shorts and pulled them down your legs, along with your panties. Your legs stretched out and your feet stood on tiptoes, craving his touch. 

He moved you to the edge of the bed, and he knelt between your legs. You rested your elbows on the bed so you could see him. He ran his tongue along your folds and you gasped, throwing your head back. The anticipation was killing you. He started playing with his tongue in your pussy, playing with your opening, teasing you, and getting to know him. Max was enjoying taking you to the limit. You moved slightly, and he placed his hand on your belly to keep you still by pressing you against the mattress. He moved up your folds to your clit and sucked on it, making you let out a loud, clear moan. The way he took his time, to adore you, to make you feel as much pleasure as possible. Your hands clung to the fabric of the sheets as Max worked on your pussy. You felt how the muscles of your pussy contracted against his tongue and you knew he was stubborn enough not to stop until you came in his mouth. You moved your hips against your mouth as much as his hand pressing your belly against the bed allowed. Max nibbled lightly on your clit before outlining it with the tip of his tongue, making you crave contact as he ran his tongue around his without touching it. He knew what he was doing because two minutes later he was back at it, licking up your juices and sucking on your clit, making your cunt twitch every time he did it. Your moans grew louder as he reached for his arms to play with the tips of your nipples between his fingers. That was it, that sent you over the edge and it was all it took for you to let out a little yelp of pleasure before you came against him. Even in the post-orgasm fog, you could feel him sucking your juices. Playing with your fingers there didn’t feel nearly the same. You had forgotten what devastating orgasms were like.

Your mind was still trying to recover from the earthquake that had been your orgasm when you felt Max pull you towards him and turn you over, placing your face down on the mattress. You let out a lopsided smile. He still remembered it. Bastard.

“I still remember how much you liked to do it that way,” he murmured, pushing you into doggy style on the bed.

“Do you?” You asked, raising your eyebrows as he brushed your hair to one side so that it fell over your shoulder.

“Yes, I remember it pretty well actually,” He whispered, playing with the tip of his cock against your folds. You couldn’t help but move your ass against him “Along with your moans when you were full of my cock”

“You may imagine things,” you pointed out, letting out a gasp as you felt him place just the tip of his cock inside you.

“Do you believe so? We will see,” He said before sliding the rest of his cock inside you in one motion.

“Fuck yes” You exclaimed. You felt so full with his cock inside you.

“You were saying?” He asked, and despite having his back turned, you could feel the arrogant smile on his face.

“Shut up,” you moaned before he moved inside you. How good that felt. You were so full, so wet that his cock slid smoothly inside you. You felt how he approached your ear and played with the earlobe, nibbling on it while he rammed you hard. Max’s hands slid in front of you to play with your clitoris between his fingers, rubbing it hard and making you let out a couple of moans that came out more like screams than anything else. The combination of sensations and movements was exquisite. You needed it as much as you needed to come at that moment. You could feel your juices soaking into your thighs too. He panted and moan against your ear, causing the air to tickle you, making you want his cum more and more. You wanted to cum, you needed to cum.

“Should I-” Max asked in a gasp. You knew what he was going to ask. He always asked you the same thing when you guys had safe sex.

“No” He wanted to know if he had to get his cock out of him or not. The answer was always no, but you were taking pills and the idea of ​​having your cum between your legs really turned you on. “It’s okay”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah” You confirmed him and that was enough because he started moving faster against you. You could feel the noise of his balls slapping against your legs until the tug of your earlobe between his teeth and you knew he was on edge. You contracted the muscles of your pussy around his cock on purpose, which made you feel the first load of his cum inside you, which triggered your second orgasm of the night. How good that felt.

You rolled over to place your back against the mattress and Max threw himself next to you. You fell into silence for the next two minutes before Max spoke again.

“Everything is ok?”

You just gave him a shaky smile in response because you weren’t sure you knew what to say.

————————————————————————————————————————

July 2022 | Monte Carlo, Monaco 

The next few weeks were a bit of a blur. You had returned to England but then found a lame excuse to visit your father in Monaco. You and Max hadn’t stopped fucking in those two weeks. If it wasn’t in bed, it was on the couch and if it wasn’t on the couch, it was on the kitchen counter. Anywhere was a good excuse to get naked. You hadn’t talked about what was going to happen to you later. On the one hand, you didn’t want to do it because you really wanted nothing more than sex. You needed to repeat it to yourself. Just wanted sex from him. You couldn’t hope for anything more about Max. They hadn’t spoken until that night. The next morning Max was going to go to Silverstone, and you were going to stay with Susie and your brother Jack.

You were both in bed after watching a football game, watching the post-game interviews with Max hugging you from behind in a spoon position when he turned down the volume.

“I grew up,” He said suddenly.

“I see,” you told him, raising your eyebrows, thinking that he was referring to his sexual abilities.

“No, not like that,” He shook his head “I’m not a kid anymore”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that I learned from my mistakes,” He clarified.

Oh. He wanted to go there? You straightened up to separate yourself a bit from him, sitting on the couch to turn to look at him “What are you saying, Max?” You wanted to know what he meant before you said anything.

“I want to say that we deserve a second chance”

You laughed “Yeah, I’m not doing that again, you wanna fuck? Fine, but I’m not trying anything else with you ever again”

“Why not?” He asked, and you felt a little guilty for being so blunt about it, but you had to be. You felt you had to protect your heart.

“Cause we already tried once and everything went down the drain”

“(Y/N), I’m not just fucking with you, I don’t want just sex from this” Max frowned "I thought we agreed about it”

You raised your eyebrows “Apparently we are not”

“You thought I just wanted sex from you and that’s why I went to apologize? I was hoping you would have a higher opinion of me.”

“I do, It’s just that-” You let out a sigh “We already collided once Max, the last time it didn’t go very well”

“So? Let’s try again”

“Max, I-” You passed your hand around your neck “I can’t allow you to break my heart again” The feeling of losing it and the anguish of having done it that way had left you broken into a thousand pieces.

“I won’t do it”

“You can’t give me guarantees,” you pointed out

“(Y/N)” He called you taking you by the cheeks so you could look at him “I know what I did wrong five years ago and I don’t plan to do it again, this time we are going to do it right”

“And what if not?”

“Then I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.” He replied, and the sweet way he said it made your heart race.

You sighed “Do you really want to do this?”

“Yes, I do”

“Don’t break my heart again Max”

“I won’t”

—————————————————————————————————

July 2022 | Le Castellet, France

You believed it could not be repeated and yet, Max and you had returned to stolen kisses and secret meetings everywhere. You had agreed to try something serious again with him, but you had not agreed to make it public yet. Now, the one who did not want everyone to know was you. The roles had been reversed. You still weren’t sure that this was going to end well, and you didn’t want to stir up the abyss for nothing.

“Ok, we need to tell them,” Max told you as he stroked your hair. You were lying on the bed of the motorhome waiting for it to be time for him to go to the paddock.

“No, we don’t”

“You know what Christian is going to do if he finds out for someone else? Eat me for breakfast,” Max complained.

You rolled your eyes “Sometimes I can’t believe how dramatic you are”

“(Y/N), we are going serious about this,” Max frowned “I thought we agreed on that”

“We do, but I don’t want to stir everything up for nothing,” You shrugged “Let’s go step by step”

“Are you afraid that we won’t last?”

“Honestly? I don’t know what’s going to happen” You confessed biting your lower lip “And I don’t want to add more factors to the equation”

“Your father deserves to at least know” Max’s family already knew and had kept it a secret, so it was only fair that your father found out too.

“Now, do you want to tell him?” Five years ago, that had been one of the turning points for you and now he kept pressing you to be honest with your father.

“I told you to grow up and I think so. He deserves to know” Max shrugged “Besides, I’m not a child. Toto Wolff doesn’t scare me”

“Sure?” It didn’t scare him as a director of Mercedes but as a father-in-law? That was a whole other version.

“I would do anything for you” He wasn’t a romantic who was always making grand gestures or saying cheesy things to you, but when he said things like that your heart swelled.

“Ok, I’ll try to tell him after this weekend”

The “after this weekend” ended up becoming “today” because you couldn’t deal with the anxiety of sharing the garage with your father and the only thing you could think about throughout the race was that you were a liar. Max’s words kept echoing in his mind. Susie was with you and Jack was staying in Monaco, so maybe with her around you could soften the blow? Would you have to tell Susie first? You walked to your father’s office. He was working on his laptop. Your flight back to Monaco was supposed to leave in an hour and the airport was five minutes away, so you weren’t surprised your father was still working. You walked into the office that had the door open, rubbing your hands, not knowing what to say, or having an armed speech. were you doing the right thing?

“What happened?” He asked before looking up at you and chuckling, “Why do you look like you’ve broken all the china?”

“I need to tell you something,” you told him, swallowing hard.

“You say,” your father replied, leaning back in his chair and putting aside his laptop. One thing you loved about him is that he always found time for you, but at the time you hated he was staring at you like that.

You decided to just blurt out the truth at once, without anesthesia “I’m kind of dating Max” You confessed with a sigh before clarifying “Max Verstappen”

Your father stared at you for a minute, which made you wonder if he had even heard you because he didn’t even blink at you “For how long?”

“For a few weeks now” You bit your lower lip

“Is it serious?”

“Yes, well, I hope it’s” You wanted to be as honest as possible with your father so that he wouldn’t believe that you simply had a crush on Max.

Your father just stared at you. He didn’t say a word. You opened your mouth to ask if he was okay before he jumped up and walked past you to leave the office.

“Dad?” You asked, walking next to him. Your father didn’t answer you, he just kept walking out of the Mercedes garage. “Dad?” You repeated a little more anxiously when you followed him into the Red Bull garage. The garage was half empty except for some engineers and Christian who seemed to review some papers.

Horner looked up when he saw your father walk past him without even acknowledging him. “Toto what-“

“Not now, Christian,” your father replied curtly. You gave Christian an apologetic smile before following your father down the hallway to the garage.

You let out a groan when he watched as he yanked open the door to Max’s driver’s room. Shit. You got to him and saw that Max was putting on his shirt with your father staring at him.

“Dad,” you called him, standing between him and Max to get into your father’s field of vision. Max reached out his hand to take one of your hands in his.

He ignored you “This is what we are gonna do, you are coming to my house when we return to Monaco and we are having dinner properly, with you as my daughter’s boyfriend because I hope you are decent enough to make her your girlfriend, are we clear?” Your father hadn’t even looked at you. He was staring at Max, who could only nod.

“Yes sir”

Your father rolled his eyes, although you could see a small twinkle in his eyes. He was enjoying having Max at his mercy “Now take your dirty hands out of my daughter,” He added without waiting for an answer before leaving Max’s driver’s room.

You giggled as your father left before turning to Max “I never thought I’d live to see you call my dad ‘sir’”

“Oh, shut up,” He replied rolling his eyes before pulling you in for a kiss. You were going to make it work. This time, everything was going to be different.

[anemonelovesfiction]

Fated Mates 2

Ao’nung x fem! Human reader

Warnings ⚠️: Sex, p in v, fingering (bc Ao’s fingers make me drool), obviously these characters are aged tf up

Y’all I included a little tradition within a marriage ceremony (not Ao & Y/n) please someone tell me if its cute bc I thought it was but now idk, I need like hella reassurance for my skxawng ass.

As always, English text is stricken through, except a blurb where I wrote a note bc there is too much English and I refused to strike through a large some of text

I did make a tag list, but personally I don’t think it’s my forte so I don’t believe I’ll be doing it again, I hope y’all can understand🥺

Tag List 🏷️ @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @universal-s1ut @lili-flower03 @deadpool15

Translation Station

Ma’Sempul: My father

Ma’itan: My son

Tawtute: Sky Person (used as “human”)

Tsahik: Spirtual healer

Tsakarem: Tsahik in training

Kinä: Seven (7)

Tìyawn: Love (or “My Love”)

Oel ngati kameie: I see you

Tewng: Loincloth

Yawne: Beloved

Skxawng: Moron

Tsmuke: Sister

Tsmukan: Brother

Sa’nok: Mother

Word count: 7.9K not as long as the other one but still

<<Previous | Next>>

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“How is she?”

“I’m sorry?” I asked confusion evident in my voice and face as he asks me that question, I turn to face my father as he fails at hiding the amused glint in his eye.

“The girl you have spent your nights with for the past month.” He states as a smile breaks out onto his features and I’m a blushing mess. There was no way for me to hide it since my face had already given it away but I tried to move this along smoothly.

“It’s enough that mom knows, now you. Must you ask such private questions?” I groaned internally, the only reason he could be commenting on it had to be because my mother was growing impatient at finding any new information about it.

“Must you always hide everything from us?” He asks

“Ma’Sempul- we’re hunting, is now the time to ask such questions.” I asked.

“I worry about you ma‘itan.” He places a hand on my shoulder before one of the men hiding a ways from us signals at us.

“Thats the signal, lets go,” I broke the conversation short as I dove, my father following behind me.

We’d gotten up extremely early for this hunt to be successful. Quite a few people had gotten married during the last couple weeks and we had the last of the group marrying today. Every day we gathered together, the male of the couple included, to hunt for the feast at our communal dinner, it was the last test that not only could he provide for his mate, but when extreme circumstances arose, he too could prove useful to the clan.

The male of the soon-to-be mated pair had to plan the hunt the day of their union. Plan out where we were to swim, what we were to hunt, and instruct us on skinning the creature and instruct us how to cook it. We prided ourselves in being the providers for our clan and taking care of our mate, the women stayed behind and prepared our work stations once we got back.

It was a beautiful thing to witness a union of two souls, the night was an entire celebration dedicated to them, their friends and family showing their support toward them. I couldn’t wait for Tsireya’s, I’m sure they would make the decision here soon but I wouldn’t know when.

Capturing the beast wasn’t easy, the human boy was assisting as well and proved useful to us. He was great at holding his breath underwater, not as strong as we were, but could definitely hold his own. He, Lo’ak, and Rotxo worked very well together and it prided me knowing that these were the great men who were a part of Y/n’s life.

_________

“Could we talk about something?” Tsireya asks and her face was filled with worry, maybe happiness, confusion? I was usually good at reading her but today I was off.

“That depends, if it’s about Lo’ak, I’d really prefer to not hear it.” Kiri states as she gathers the same sized seashells into a basket. These were going to be used as decoration for tonights union.

“Kiri, stop being rude.” I tease and playfully roll my eyes before turning to the beautiful teal goddess before me

“Is something bothering you?” I asked her as I continued weaving this humongous garment with Tsireya on the other side of it.

They had a tradition where the two stomp on the middle shell, which happened to be the larger one, and however many pieces it broke into represented the two of them as well as the children they were to have. They would then tie their favorite piece of the shell in their song cord, their children's song cord would start with a piece of the broken shell representing both parents becoming one. This garment was going to be thrown around the two who were finalizing their union today as a means to show the clan that they were coming together after they pick their favorite piece and the rest placed in a small container they would take home.

“It’s about Ao’nung,” She bites her lip and apologetically looks at me.

“There must be something interesting for you to want to talk about your brother,” Kiri mentions and I have to force an angry/disgusted look on my face to keep up with the appearance.

“If I could mentally ascend to Eywa right now, I would.” I commented and she smiles while shaking her head to herself.

“Well, he’s been seeing someone recently.” She admits and I fight the urge to freeze, seem curious, or appear affected by her words.

“The sooner he’s out of our hair the better.” I go back to focusing on the weaving and Kiri laughs at that.

“Isn’t that a good thing, ‘Reya?” Kiri asks her and Tsireya looks kind of bothered.

“Oh, sweets, I’m sorry. Don’t take my comments to heart, but it looks like its bothering you, is this a bad thing?” I asked as the small frown had already edged itself into my heart. She shakes her head at my question.

“No, it’s just-“ She sighs and stops weaving, considering this was a two-person job I too had to stop weaving. She lets out a big sigh but still seems saddened.

“You can tell us, we’ll stop being assholes about it.” Kiri speaks up.

“He’s just different is all.” She states and looks like she’s embarrassed for what she said and just about speaks again- more than likely to change the subject.

“Different how?” I ask and she closes her mouth and looks up at me, her eyes very thankful that I’d asked.

“He just seems more patient and kind. His temper isn’t as harsh as it used to be and he is even kinder to the children because of it. I can only assume it has to do with this person he meets up with.”

“But it bothers you?” I asked again and she shakes her head.

“No! This change is good, it is something he needs. But he has yet to share with me and this big secret has been going on for a month. We share everything together and not being let in on this secret makes me feel like he does not trust me.”

“Don’t say that, I’m sure he is just very nervous about it, or maybe this person is very shy? Don’t take it personal, ‘Reya, when he comes home tonight why don’t you ask him about it, if he doesn’t want to share let him know you’re there for him and he will share when he’s ready.” Kiri offers and I look back and smile at her words of wisdom. She always knew what to say to make anybody feel better.

“I am just too nervous to talk with him about it.” Tsireya mentions.

“Hey, remember how nervous you were when you talked to him about Lo’ak?” I asked her and she nodded.

“He might be feeling that same way, but he was supportive- or at least I think he was, because you’re courting Lo’ak now. I’m sure he’s more nervous to tell you than you are of asking him.” I told her and she nods in understanding.

Just then we all hear the sound of the horn signifying the return of the hunters. Tsireya turns and I take advantage of her eyes being off me to scan the crowd for her brother, unable to find him in the massive crowd of teal bodies, although Lo’ak stood out to me and so did Spider. I’m glad I had the weaved garment nearby as soon as Tsireya turns since my eyes looked at my finger positioning at the same time she turned.

“Don’t worry, Y/n, we’re almost done.” She reassures me and I look back up at her, nodding my head as we started weaving once more.

“How long does that usually take?” I asked her.

“It’s tradition for the tsahik to say a few words and bless the union of the pair. Then we celebrate all night with dancing, singing, drinking, it lasts a long time too.”

“How soon do you think they’ll have kids?” I ask in genuine curiosity before feeling Kiri’s lightest swat at the back of my head and Tsireya full on laughing.

“Sorry, I forget tawtute are more invasive than you guys, but I was genuinely curious Kiri, I swear I wasn’t making a joke.” I turned my head toward her as she was squatting behind me finishing separating the shells.

“It depends on them,” Tsireya answered.

_________

Eclipse was quick to come from the moment we’d all finished cooking and getting ready for the union. The couple always had the tsahik speak blessings on them just before eclipse started and once it was over the two would share with the clan the vows they choose to make for their partner.

After the vows are shared, the tsakarem- Tsireya- lays down the garment behind the two and they turn to step on the shell in the middle. At this very moment the two were sharing their vows about their love for each other and I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over and catch a glimpse of Y/n.

She had one of her hands covering her mouth in awe as her other hand wiped away the tears escaping her eyes. I could see her sniffle a bit to contain herself and Kiri leans over to pat the girls head gently. I couldn’t help but smile at her reaction toward the ceremony and felt my heart swell with pride at the absolute sweet heart she is.

The couple had turned around and broken the shell, Tsireya kneeling on the floor to count the pieces the shell had broken into.

“Kinä!” Tsireya yells as everyone cheers.

Seven, they’re going to have five children between the two, what a blessing! I turned with a slight smile of my own and capture Y/n’s eyes with my own and she lifts her hand to sign a quick Hello. I signed back and she smiles widely.

It doesn’t take long for the singing to begin after they had gathered their shell pieces and everyone stood up. This would be the perfect opportunity to slip away to the woods with Y/n. I capture her eyes once more and cock my head back toward the woods and she nods her head, turning back to pretend to be paying attention to whatever her brother was saying.

I’d started walking away first, knowing she’d have to find her own way out of the conversation she was in. We often did this to prevent anyone from noticing us slipping away together and starting a rumor that would spread faster than whatever rumor was started that morning.

I knew it would probably take a bit for her to come meet me in the clearing so I’d decided to lurk a bit closer toward the edge of the woods to just watch her. Only to flare my nose when I’d noticed Rotxo walk up to her, wondering what in the great mother he thought he was doing. I’d wanted to walk over to her and pick her up and away from his presence but I knew what would happen if I did.

I didn’t need to be upsetting my mother at this moment, not that I would have cared, but she was due to give birth soon. And having my sibling pop out while my mother was stressed wasn’t a good mix. I also didn’t want to embarrass Y/n in front of her family or let her sweet ears listen to whatever kind of messed up comments the clan would have to say. I also don’t want to upstage the happy couple that decided to stay for a while before heading off toward the spirit tree.

I could see Y/n laugh at whatever Rotxo had said and could feel the pure jealousy filling the pit of my stomach. He smiled at her reaction and seemed overall nervous, I was easily angered and my tail swayed furiously. He’d nodded at what she said and headed off before she looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention to her, once she was in the clear she started heading toward the wooded area again, I’d backed off from plain sight and started trudging my way toward the clearing.

I could hear her tiny footsteps walking near the clearing but I had my back turned toward her as I sat with my thoughts and fidgeted with my fingers. I truly did not want to be jealous, but I couldn’t help to feel that way, I had no idea what else to do.

“Guess who!” She had placed her hands over my eyes. She told me a little bit ago that tawtute often did this to one another, what for I can’t say, but it defeats the purpose when I know her smell, her voice, and I could hear her smacking her feet with every step.

“Tìyawn, you scare the sea life within a five mile radius with how loud you walk.” I stated as her arms slip from my sight, my eyes adjusting toward the bioluminescent lights provided by the plants around us, and her pouty face comes around to greet me. I smile softly and reach for her face, pulling her into a sweet short kiss, pulling back from her and staring at her eyes.

“That was mean.” She stated in fake hurt as she crossed her arms next, stomping her feet as she turned around, acting like a child. But I carefully snake my arm around her waist and pull her back toward me, kissing the back of her neck, her resolve crumbling.

“Thats loser talk, little one.” I nuzzle the back of her neck with my nose and she shivers at the touch, her smell was wonderful and it helped calm me down. I took a couple of sniffs before she pulled herself away from me.

“I need to talk to you about something,” She mentioned seriously and it made my heart drop.

“Does it have to do with why Rotxo was all over you?” I asked and felt like kicking myself in the face, she was confused and another emotion settled onto her features, but I couldn’t pinpoint what.

“Where you watching me?” She asks with a hint of something in her voice but it was frustrating me that I couldn’t figure out what it was.

“No,” I looked away from her gaze but she laughs lightly. Was this amusing to her?

“Look at me,” She stated so gently but I didn’t have to heart to, settling to looking at the ground, but feeling her soft hands on my cheeks as she turned my face to look at hers was making me feel shy.

“Hey,” She coo’s gently and I finally look at her. Her smile was still evident and she looks amused.

“I do not-“ I was cut off as she places the backs of her fingers on my mouth to shush me.

“Theres no need to be jealous, Ao’nung, Rotxo was telling me about how his situationship was going along. He’s confided in me as a friend.”

“I’m not jealous.” I scoff and look away before feeling her hands guiding my stare back toward her.

“No, of course not, my mistake.” She runs her thumbs against my cheeks lovingly that I couldn’t help but close my eyes and hum happily. “But you don’t have to worry about me being interested in anyone else, okay?” She makes it sound like a question but I know she wasn’t really awaiting an answer. I’d opened my eyes as she spoke but felt doubtful.

“But what if you find someone else?” I asked her and felt my insecurities rising.

“Never. I only see you, Tìyawn, only you.” She reassures me.

“Oel ngati kameie, little one,” I stated almost immediately after she had and we meet in the middle for a kiss.

“You know what we should do right now?” She asks me as she backs up from my lips and I pout slightly at the loss of her being so close.

“What?”

“Have sex in the water-“ She tries hiding her amusement but her eyes were twinkling.

_________

Further on closer toward the opposite edge of the woods where we’d come from are more walkways that reach smaller islands within the Metkayina and the other clans nearby. There was usually someone watching post nearby or walking around but due to the celebration, Tonowari was nice enough to let them have a small break and come down to have fun.

“There is something I wanted to tell you,” I stated while panting as his fangs tickled my neck.

“Mm,” He mutter mindlessly but his ears flicker up toward me to listen.

“Your dad is hot-“ I hold back a giggle as he makes a disapproving look, his lips swollen from our heavy make out session, biting my lip as I look down at his mouth and back up his eyes.

“Yeah?” His eyes darkened as his head tilts to the side, hands gingerly gripping my thighs and dragging me toward him. “Why is that?” He asks with a finger on my chin, making sure I don’t shy away from his intense eye contact.

“The tattoo’s that cover his face, he’s very kind, his voice is deep, he’s very strong.” I listed while staring right at Ao’nung, his smirk settling in his face.

“I’ve got tattoos on my face.” He stated as his hands start running across my thighs softly.

“Not very many,” I retort and his big hands start caressing my inner thighs.

“Am I not kind to you, little one?” He asks while kissing at my jaw line and once again down my neck, his fingers dangerously close to where I needed them.

“I-I guess-“ I gasp as he finally pushes my tewng to the side and glides his thumb over my clit.

“Is my voice not deep when I pleasure you?” He asks straight into my ear and plunges one finger straight in and I couldn’t help but moan.

“Hmm?” He grazes my g-spot and I shudder under him, closing my eyes and enjoying his ministrations. I feel his finger remain still and it causes me to open my eyes again.

“Yes!” I whine and he chuckles.

“Look at how pathetic you are and I’ve only used one finger. Do you really think you could handle my father?” He asks cockily.

“Just want you-“ I groan as he slides a second finger in.

“Hmm, are you certain?” He purposely curls them over my G-spot, not even bothering to thrust them anymore, just moving them over my spongey spot repeatedly.

“Am I too weak for you?” He asks and pecks my lips.

“N-no,“ I try concentrating on my words but concentrate on bucking my hips instead, eyes closed tightly, grasping onto his arm for dear life as he continues pleasuring me.

“Fuck,” I moan out loudly and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I thought you wanted to do this in the water.”

“Hmm,” I buck my hips against his fingers.

“You gonna come?” He asks and I only nod my head as much as I could just to feel the orgasm ripped away from me as he removes his fingers. But before he says anything I crawl on his lap kissing him and grinding myself over his noticeable bulge.

“It almost feels like you prefer me over my father,” He teases while sliding me against his body as he stands, discarding his tewng in the sand, and walking into the water.

“Wait what about mine-“ I asked but it was too late.

“Just in case anyone comes by unexpectedly, you’ll be safe.” He kisses me and bites my bottom lip teasingly.

“I do prefer you over your father,” I wrapped my arms around his neck answering his previous question.

“I’m not convinced,” he once again moves my tewng to the side, and pushes his penis in one go, after having done this for the past month its safe to say he fits well, and the initial sting does bother me but it doesn’t hurt as bad as before when we’d first done it.

“Oh shit-“ I gasp and shut my eyes and squeeze my legs wrapped around his waist, my arms squeezing his neck, his own hands squeezing my hips.

“You feel so good little one, such a good girl taking my cock like that,”

I tried not to react to what he was saying but I’m sure my pussy was giving it away, his smirk returning on his face causing me to shiver.

“You like that?” He asks but doesn’t giving me a chance to answer before thrusting his hips upward.

“W-wait!” I whine as he continues thrusting rapidly, feeling my orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Can’t believe you’re all mine, pretty girl, all mine.” He grows into my ear and the possessiveness coming from it makes me moan loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” The mantra spills out of my lips so easily and I can hear him grunting with every thrust.

“Touch me, little one, touch my ears-“ He begs and his hands squeeze my hips harder, but I bring my hands up to caress his ears, somehow he thrusts even faster and his hips are meeting mine.

“Fuck!” I yell as his pelvis strokes my clit deliciously with how deep, fast, and hard he was going. I could feel his ears trembling under my touch and the most unexpected constant flow of whimpers coming from his mouth.

“Such a good girl, wanna paint your pretty walls with my come-“ He mutters.

“Come Ao’nung, please!” I cry as I feel myself being tipped over the edge, his own orgasm chasing after mine. I was always curious about their come, it had a slight blue glow to it, shining very brightly in the night.

“You’re wild, Tìyawn,” He states as he gently pulls out, sweeping his fingers inside to make sure to get all of his come off me.

“Do you think your dad fucks as hard as you do?”

He splashes water in my face and I can’t help but laugh at my own comment and the disapproving look he’d given me.

“I only see you, yawne.” I repeat to him and kiss him.

“I only see you, little one.” He connects our foreheads together and I feel at peace as I hold onto him.

“I want to stay like this forever,” I hum in appreciation as he gently runs one of his hands against my back.

“I know but we need to go back soon. We can’t get caught.”

“Speaking of getting caught, when should we tell Tsireya?” I asked as I remembered the conversation we were having at the beach earlier today and the real reason I’d told him I needed to tell him something.

“Are you sure you want to tell her? She can be a loud mouth.” He stated and I pout a bit.

“She mentioned noticing a change in you this past month but was upset that you haven’t told her anything. She would keep our secret.” I stated as he begins walking out of the water.

“Is it something you are sure about?” He asks and I just look at him in surprise.

“Is it something you want to tell her? She is your best friend.” I add on to earn sympathy points from him.

“I do,” He nods. “But, I worry that my mom will find out,”

“No wait, I care more about you than what my mother thinks, but-“

“I know, she’s still scary,” I smile up toward him to let him know I wasn’t offended by his words. His feet had finally touched the sand and I try wriggling off of him.

“Lets stay like this until we get back.”

“You’re naked right now. Nobody else can see you like this.” I narrowed my eyes at him and he just smiles, planting a kiss on my mouth.

“Weren’t you the one who said there was no need to get jealous?”

“I will cut your dick off.”

“You’d wrap those pretty lips around it before you cut it off, little one,”

“Stooop!” I blushed at his words.

_________

“Oh, Hey! Where have you been?” Tsireya had turned right after I tapped her arm gently to gain her attention since she’d been dancing with a group of friends. These girls were friends from her childhood and were known to be gossipers but appeared to have drank a little much at the same time given their sways. I was just thankful we were closer toward the edge of the crowd and not near the singers where it was hard to hold a conversation.

“Could I introduce you to someone?” I’d asked her in a hushed voice. I wanted to be careful with how I’d stated anything around her friends since I had no intention of allowing them to overhear our conversation. I also didn’t want to risk them hearing anything and getting the wrong idea, or allowing their liquid courage to give them any reason to follow us, I just wanted to tell Tsireya, nobody else.

After getting out of the water we’d sat back in the clearing to dry off but her hair seemed to be drying at a slower pace than normal, probably due to no sun or heat being available, and my mind had shifted toward what she had said at the cave where tawtute were sensitive to temperatures. I’d asked her if she wanted a blanket to wrap herself around but she’d refused until I told her I would find Tsireya and bring her over where I felt her shivering and decided to grab a blanket from our marui, bringing it over so she could warm up while I left her to find my sister.

My sisters face goes blank before being switched over toward a new emotion that settles on her face that she fails to hide but she nods either way. She’d turned toward her friends saying I had shown up to escort her home since she had to start early tomorrow morning. It was a wonderful excuse in order for her to part from them, but that meant our trek over toward the clearing would have to take a little longer getting there.

We’d walked in silence toward the marui’s before making sure her friends could not see us anymore to give them the impression that we’d gone home. She pauses behind a random marui but I’m thankful she signs since it is uncertain if anybody else was at home or not.

Where is she? Her giddy smile and the excitement glowing in her eyes were a testament to how she felt at the moment.

She’s in the clearing, we’ll have to walk for a bit. I signed back and turned around to start walking over, and I’m certain she was following behind.

It was just now that I could feel my heart pounding in my chest with each step we took, getting closer to the clearing had my stomach tumbling too, my airway felt constricted and my mouth was dry. I decided to take a deep breath to try to calm myself and slowly exhaled.

“I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone. You can’t tell your friends at all, you can’t even tell Lo’ak, we’re trying to hide it from mom.” I admitted as we continued walking, we were a littlw ways out from the clearing and all I could think was if this was a good idea or not.

“If that is what you wish I will not tell a soul, but are you certain you want me to meet her?” The lightest touch on my arm caught my attention and I turned, noticing she’d stopped.

No matter how bad she’d wanted to know a secret anyone was hiding, she always made sure to keep her nose out of it, she would always wait for someone to approach her and never shared that secret with anyone else, always keeping it. When we were smaller, our mother forbid me to go hunting with the bigger kids because she knew I’d get hurt, let’s just say I didn’t listen to her and definitely got hurt. Tsireya had walked in on my arm bleeding from a cut I got from coral - since I tried wooing the people I was with- as I searched the salves my mother kept in a box. She’d taken the paste away from my hand and grabbed another one that looked completely different and handed it to me, putting the other one in its place.

She even took the time to place the smallest bits of seaweed on it to help the paste stay in the cut. She’d spent the entire day standing next to me to cover her work so our mother wouldn’t yell at me. She refused to leave my side when her friends called and when our mother asked us why she was stuck on my side she said it was because she loved me.

“I can turn back if you want, no matter how bad I want to know who she is, I can wait.” She adds again and doesn’t even bother trying to sneak a peek around me.

“You’re my best friend, there is nobody else I’d want to introduce her to.” I reassure her and turn to walk again. We were nearing the clearing and I could catch a hint of her wrapped in my blanket.

“Just promise you won’t tell a soul, not even Eywa,” I whispered and she pokes my back for fun.

“Eywa knows all.” She jokes as she whispers back and we are finally here.

“Little one,” I called out to her and she turns her head to face me, her back stiffened as she stands even straighter, Tsireya remained behind me and hadn’t stepped out.

“I brought my sister.” I motion for her to come closer and she does, her footsteps being soft and calculated, she also seemed nervous.

“You ready, ‘Reya?” I asked as I tilted my head back so she could see me, she gives me a nod, and her eyes widened as I stepped out of her way, falling upon the tawtute in a shocked manner. She turns to look between myself and Y/n before uttering her first word.

“Ahh,” It was as if she’d had a sudden moment of clarity as her eyes settled back on Y/n. I could tell ma’tìyawn was letting the doubt fill in, her eyes were knitted upward as she stared up at my sister.

“Hi sweets,” She spoke nervously.

“This actually makes sense.” Tsireya states as if she were in a trance.

“You came back home hours after the storm had stopped, why ai couldn’t find her a little after you’d disappeared, why you’re nicer!” She poked my arm excitedly.

“You are courting my favorite tawtute!” She yells happily and I’m only thankful to Eywa for a celebration happening at this moment, if not I was sure everyone in the clan had heard her.

She had turned and ran up toward my tawtute, picking her up and squealing happily, I could feel my heart slowing down and my stomach settling, a cool feeling overtaking my once erratic nerves as I see the two embracing, a smile settles on my features as the two most important women in my life were embracing each other.

“I was so scared to tell you!” Y/n stated as she too seemed to be at ease.

“I should have pieced it together, but this is a good thing! You’re making him much less grumpy! Only the sweetest of souls could do that, and I should have known it was you!” Tsireya settles her down again as she sits down, crossing her legs.

“Tell me, is he hitting it right?” Tsireya asks and Y/n blushes.

“Who taught you that!” Y/n asks as Tsireya giggles.

“The person whose currently hitting this-“ She points at herself.

“Ugh, gross, Tsireya, don’t taint my tawtute.” I roll my eyes at the conversation being had in front of me.

“I knew you guys were boning,” Y/n comments back with a smile of her own.

“Yawne, thats gross,”

“Awe! Yawne?” Tsireya asks with the widest smile.

“I shouldn’t have let you two meet.” I sigh and place my hand over my face while shaking my head in disappointment.

“I thought you’d hate me for keeping this secret.”

“No no, you have every right to, have you told anyone else?”

“We haven’t told anyone else but we want to eventually, we’re taking small steps.” I speak up and Tsireya nods.

“Come sit,” Y/n pats the grass beside her, I walk over and sit where she’d pointed to and grab her, sitting her on my lap, my arms wrapped around her blanketed form. Tsireya cooing at how cute she thought this whole thing was, it made me blush for sure, I could only imagine my tawtute’s face at the comments. We’d enjoyed each others company throughout the rest of the night.

Walking back toward the back end of the Marui’s we reach the walkways where Y/n stops, turning to face me and taking the blanket off of herself, handing it over to me. I take it and shamelessly smell it, smiling at the change in smell, what once smelled like me now has a hint of her in it. I squat on my toes to kiss her and she wraps her arms around my neck.

“I’ll miss you tonight.” I kiss her forehead.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow,” She lets out a light laugh and I kiss her again.

“You do know your sister is still watching, hmm?” She asks and I kiss her once more.

“Thats her problem.” She takes her arms away from my neck and steps back.

I’ll miss you tonight. She signs with a bright blush on her face and I could only imagine my sister was looking at her, I was correct since I heard the slightest of Awe’s from behind me.

I’ll miss you more I signed back at her and she waves before turning to walk toward the Sully marui.

_________

*this whole conversation is in English until you wake up in the morning, ok? I’d rather make a note here than using strike through on all of the text*

“And where do you think you’ve been?”

I’d long since frozen upon seeing his tall build standing near the walkway, nowhere close to where the entrance of our marui was, just far enough away from being heard from anyone inside it. I could have turned back and walked from where I came but I was sure he’d follow regardless, and I knew Ao’nung and Tsireya weren’t out of sight yet.

“Enjoying the nice fresh air, whats wrong with you?” I asked him, trying to play it off like it was nothing.

“No, because I saw you walk toward the woods earlier, but didn’t see anyone else. I can only assume whoever you went to meet had already gone ahead of you.”

I kept my face as neutral as possible, trying to think of a way out of this situation, but my mind was drawing blanks. If he saw me going into the woods then I’d have to find a way to lie about why I was there.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.” I scoff and roll my eyes. “But the tree’s remind me of being in the forest. It helps bring my mind at ease during social situations where I feel like I’m suffocating-“

“You really can’t lie your way out of this, lets try that again.”

“I swear, for being born two minutes later you’re the biggest pain in my ass.”

“I may be younger but I’m wiser-“

“No you aren’t, skxawng.”

“You’ve got an answer for me or do I need to find it out myself and follow you around the entire island?”

“With your clear threat, I can only imagine you have a vague idea of why I’m out here.”

“Not really but you buried yourself into a hole with that comment.”

“Spider-“ I stated angrily and pause to try to calm myself down.

“You never hide anything from me, Y/n, I’ve given it some time but I’m worried about you. You disappear several times a day and reappear even more tired. Is someone making you do something, or are you sick and you’re afraid to tell us?”

“Who is all home right now?” I asked aloud and Spider sighs.

“Jake, Neytiri, and Tuk. She got tired and they came back home. Lo’ak and Kiri were staying a bit longer but they should be coming home soon.”

“Give me until tomorrow afternoon and I can answer that question for sure.”

“Y/n-“ He stated immediately before I held my hand up to stop him from continuing.

“I am not being threatened to doing anything, I can assure you I’m fine, I just need to think about it, okay?”

He nods warily as I sigh.

“Just until tomorrow.” He agrees. Spider knew my body language well enough to understand when I’d been lying, but to also tell if I was okay, which I assume he got the hint and thats why he agreed.

“I’m tired, we should go sleep.” I suggested to move this along and he nods, walking over toward the entrance of the marui, and pushing aside the curtain covering the entrance.

Falling asleep had proven to be harsh as I continued tossing to find a comfortable position and no longer finding it comforting after getting settled, leaving me to turn once more and the cycle continued for a while. Jake and Neytiri had already put Tuk in bed and had stayed up until Lo’ak and Kiri came in.

We all talked in hushed voices about how special their ceremony was and how many people they talked to. It didn’t take long for them to have fallen asleep as they were probably tired and I was left to fend for myself. I’d had just about enough of not getting comfortable and stepped out of the marui, surprised that I’d managed to struggle all night since the daylight was starting to creep up onto the water.

I carefully and quietly walked over toward the beach and sat with my back against a tree. Staring out into the water and taking a second to enjoy the tranquility of the gentle waves rolling about, wetting the sand of the shoreline.

“You’re up early,”

“We need to talk.” I stated curtly before turning to make direct eye contact with him, his face had a slight smile but I could tell it had fallen at my tone.

“Whats wrong?” He asked as he squats near me.

I let out a sigh before telling him what had happened right after he dropped me off. I didn’t forget to mention that I’d told my brother I’d give him some kind of answer in the afternoon and Ao’nung smiled weakly toward me.

“What?” I asked.

“We might need to come clean to the whole group.” He suggests and I’m sure the look on my face showed how scared I was.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter what anyone says, I won’t leave you, little one.”

“Thats not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” He asks and looks like he’s about to grab onto my arm comfortingly before I see another teal body coming up and my instant reaction is to shake my head at the action, his arm was only slightly outstretched and I am thankful to all of my senses at that moment

“What are you doing?”

Both our heads snap back up toward the woman standing beside us, her own eyes narrowed as she looks directly at me, then sliding back to her son waiting for his response. I should have known she wouldn’t be talking to me and I’m sure if she were she’d believe I was lying.

“Just asking if we were still meeting up later.” He lies through his teeth and I felt a sense of pride run through me. His mother shifts her gaze at me as if to ask ‘alone?’ I couldn’t help but continue staring at her.

“Tsireya told Kiri to convince Y/n to come,” He adds to let her know we weren’t meeting alone and she turns to look at her son and nods as of she were still processing what he’d said. I turn to look at him as his gaze shifts toward mine and he seems panicked. I raised my brow and look at the sand again, essentially telling him to calm down.

“Very well.” She stated and holds an outstretched hand for him to go toward her. “Excuse us, Y/n,” she bows her head lightly and it shocks me at the respect she had just given me, but I have to remind myself its to keep up appearances.

I’d taken it upon myself to head back to the marui to wake everyone up and get started on our day considering we were slightly busy. The quicker we finished our share of work the more time we could spend together and the best opportunity to tell them while everyone else- including Ao’nungs mother- would continue being busy with their works.

_________

“Where have you been?” Tsireya asks as if to scold me for being the only one to have joined the group late.

“I had to throw our mother off my scent. She already caught us this morning.” I explained and her ears flicker upward.

“Technically I have, like, thirty seconds left before I can tell you-“ I can hear my tawtute speaking as her brother looks angrily toward her. Out of habit, I froze and pretended my attention was elsewhere, completely forgetting for a bit why we were all gathered here.

“Thats bullshit Y/n, tell me what stupid thing you’re hiding.”

“I told you I would let you know if I decided to tell you, not that I would for sure tell you!” She yells back at him.

“Well its already been thirty seconds.” Spider crosses his arms and stares at his tsmuke awaiting an answer.

“It’s been fifteen-“ She sticks her tongue out at him.

“It’s been thirty seconds, Yawne.” I agree with her brother aloud and Spider completely misses the point of what I’d said as he shouts a victory toward Y/n.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” She stated calmly toward me.

Kiri had stood with her mouth agape as Spider just raised a brow at his sister- still missing how we were acting toward each other. Rotxo had his mouth open while forming a shocked smile, looking between us and Kiri. Lo’ak seemed to have just caught on to what was said as his brows furrow.

“Wait a minute- Yawne?” Spider finally catches on and looks between us in shock and I felt like now would have been a perfect time for Kiri to laugh, but I’m assuming it came as too much of a shock for everyone.

“No way-“ Spider states shocked.

“Oh my Eywa,” Kiri places her hands over her mouth but fails to hide her excitement as she lets out a small squeal.

“I should have known someone tamed the beast,” Rotxo comments with a smirk as he shakes his head in surprise.

“Are you serious?”

All heads turned toward the forest boy who’d uttered those words. It definitely didn’t sound like he had been too happy to find out, but he wasn’t yelling about it either, his voice definitely held a calm tone to it, but it was impossible to ignore the harshness that came with it.

“Lo’ak,” Tsireya begins as his eyes go over toward hers.

“You knew?” He asks in disbelief and her ears flicker down a bit, her face changing to show her apology.

“She only found out yesterday, Lo.” Y/n states upon seeing my sisters immediate change in mood.

“You mean to tell me you told Tsireya before telling anyone else?” He asks a little louder this time.

“Maybe now you can see why we decided to tell her?” She sasses back at Lo’ak.

“Look, Y/n,” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he exhales. “Theres no way you can be with this-“ He points toward me and stops talking.

“You loved my brother.” He stated firmly.

“Yes, I do love Neteyam. But I love Ao’nung too.”

“No you don’t.” He stated just as quick. “You think you do, but you don’t.”

“You love me?” I asked in shock.

“Not now,” She states at me while holding her hand up to acknowledge me but continuing to stare at Lo’ak. “You cannot tell me what I feel. Or are you suddenly becoming your dad and think you know whats best for me?” She asks in anger.

“Guys, we should take a second to cool down.” Kiri breaks their angered animosity toward them and both Lo’ak and Y/n’s faces soften.

“I just-“ Lo’ak states as a sudden realization hits him and he sighs. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, especially since you’ve been hurt before when you didn’t even get to say goodbye. And especially with him.” Lo’ak looks toward me but I can understand why.

“Lo,” Y/n stated softly as she walks toward him and hugs him, knowing how close they were and their kind of relationship I had no reason to be jealous, but wondered if he would hurt her due to his anger from before.

“You’re my tsmukan. And I loved your tsmukan. But moving on is part of the healing.” She stated and he wraps his arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes.

“He is good to me, I promise.”

“Sometimes it feels like Lo’ak is a better brother than I am, should I have reacted that way-“ Spider started before letting a loud oof escape his lips, nobody spared him a glance as it was obvious Kiri had smacked him upside the head.

“You break her heart, and I’ll break your face with my fists.” Lo’ak threatens as Y/n giggles.

“I am aware of my actions from the past and have also asked for an apology from all of you. I do not plan to break that trust nor break your tsmuke’s heart. I would also like to point out I was not expecting to be hit in the face that time.” I stated and could hear my tawtute giggling.

“Don’t feel sorry for yourself now Tìyawn,” I can feel her little fingers on my face as I’d failed to hear her come up to me for the first time. She’d stood on a rock behind me to reach me and I’d taken her by the waist to slide her off the rock and holding her close onto myself.

“He hit me many times-“ I pouted and she started laughing.

“Yes, I praised him when I heard the story,”

“Hey!”

“Hey.” She pecks my lips and a chorus of eww’s are heard from our friend group.

“Not like you all don’t kiss each other anyway-“ She sticks her tongue out at them and its my turn to join in on the laughter.

“Are you planning on telling sa’nok and sempul too?” Lo’ak asks and Y/n’s face falls slightly again.

“We’re trying to keep that from happening. Ronal is definitely the last person that needs to know and if we told your parents I’m sure they’d tell her next. And I don’t want to face Neytiri’s wrath from another native woman again.” She shivers and I can tell its a sore subject for her.

“She’ll find out eventually, but it’ll be too late by then, Tìyawn. And I’m not letting you go either, yeah?”

“Yeah,” She agrees as I set her down.

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Just gonna throw this at you! Hope you laugh! Kinda inspired by Retro Reader.

Valentino: Your Little Feral 'Wife' just killed one of my performers!

Vox: I'm sure Retro had a very good reason for that.

Velvette: It was that one who kept bragging they planned to sleep with you to get to the top. I'm shocked it took them a week to notice the fool.

Vox: They spent the past week thinking I didn't notice them killing my former assistants.

Valentino: You mean the ones you fired for trying to bankrupt you? Why didn't you kill them yourself?

Vox: Retro would pout and its much more enjoyable to see them prove their loyalty. I should buy Retro some flowers, maybe that outfit they were looking at.

Velvette: Hon I think the thing they would want most is you taking a day off.

Enjoy the weird thoughts from my brain after reading your amazing stuff! If you wanna do something with this be my guest!

I’m sorry, I just imagine Retro popping up out of nowhere and being like “I would like that!”

And Valentino is just. Terrified screaming.

Anyway.

Vox is thinks that actually a good point, so he leaves work early and shows up at the house without warning. Retro has a mild heart attack because they weren’t expecting him and the house might not be clean enough. But Vox brought flowers and the outfit they liked, so it works out nicely. Vox pretends not to notice the drops of blood on the kitchen counter.

Retro is also in a much better mood than usual with all the killing. They really like being uninterrupted in their work, able to take care of it as they see fit. I imagine it’s part of the reason Vox fired his assistants instead of killing them, too. It lets Retro blow off some steam.

I also think that Retro would become progressively protective of Valentino and Velvette as well. Not to the same extent as Vox, of course, but they wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who’s giving them a hard time.

As we all know, Valentino is the problem in most relationships, so Retro wouldn’t need to protect him much. If anything, I think they’d serve as a good way for Val to vent some frustration. They get together on the back porch, Retro knitting a sweater or blanket or something while Valentino decorates a new gun he got. Retro has tea or something and Val is trying not to smoke (and failing) because he knows Retro doesn’t particularly like it.

He also knows Retro won’t deal with any of his violent bullshit like the other Vs do. We see Vox let him break things, but Retro? They won’t allow it. They think letting of steam is healthy, though, so they’ll arrange for target practice while Val is there. They also start doing research on guns (they weren’t interested before since they are very loud weapons) first Val so they can recommend some new ones, how to decorate them, etc. Valentino is an artist and I feel like Retro would love indulging that side of him. If they become genuine friends (or partners, if they end up in a poly relationship with Vox) I imagine this would be a big part of it.

He’d complain about some performers he’s had trouble with, which ones are good, which ones aren’t. Retro would learn a bit about Angel Dust (but not much, considering Val knows better than to disclose how he treats his employees to someone like Retro). Retro would keep this information in mind for future killings, giving the better performers more leniency and keeping a watchful eye on all of them in general. Vox would invite them to a club or studio before this, and they’d usually reject the request since it’s not their thing (also not very housewife-type thing to do, and because a club meant flirting and we all know how they deal with that). After getting close with Val, though? They’d be more up for it.

Retro would end up refining their killing, having actual rules for what’s acceptable and what’s not when it comes to people talking to or making a move on Vox. They decide that if it’s someone’s job, like the performers, they get a pass. Random club goer? Thin ice, but they’ll have some patience. Both Vox and Retro make it a point to remind people that Vox isn’t interested in anyone else, so if someone knows that and keeps making a move? Well, Retro can’t kill the, right then and there, but they’ll go on the list of people to kill. I also imagine the list has different sections that people get sorted into depending on their threat level, both in terms of power and how likely they are to cause problems in their relationship with Vox.

Anyway, I’ve been neglecting the Velvette and Retro interactions so here we go!

I think it’d be a bit of a rough start between them, probably due to the fact that Vel already knows about Retros murders, but they’d get along pretty well. When Valentino described them to Vel, she got the impression they’d be more crazed and all over the place, an absolute mess. So imagine her surprise when she met Retro, someone who’s so polite and calm and well mannered. She’d understand immediately. Instant besties, especially with Retros fashion sense.

Now, Retro and Val have an odd sort of relationship but Vel and Retro have something more genuine and wholesome, I think. Vel would go to Retro for some advice, ask about ideas, and the like. She appreciates their unique tastes and preferences, as well as the out of the box ideas they can come up with. If Velvette is ever afraid something she’s making may not be functional as an outfit? She gives it to Retro, asks their opinion.

I also imagine Retro would have a good understanding of what fabrics feel nice together and which ones don’t, something Velvette may struggle with. She doesn’t have a problem with fabric textures, so she doesn’t realize how it may impact the buyers opinion on the outfit. Retro offers that new perspective, too, since I imagine they’re quite picky on that sort of thing. They care a lot about fabric texture, flow, and feel (something I can personally relate to) not only because it impacts its mobility and functionality, how hard it is to clean after killing, but also general comfort. Retro would be more than happy to help with whatever Velvette needs, but modeling is strictly off the table. They’ll do private photo shoots for fun, sure, but Retro is determined to keep up the housewife routine.

Valentinos visits probably tend to be more infrequent and out of the blue, but Velvette has a tight schedule and specific dates with Retro, something they greatly appreciate. The gossip they discuss? Top tier. Val and Retro usually discuss dancing skills, choreography, people’s tastes in partners and their horrible life decisions, which is fun but not exciting. Velvette always has some dramatic tea to spill and I imagine she’s great at explaining it in an immersive way that captures Retros attention. Retro would probably be able to offer up good theories and thoughts on how the situation would go, too. I think they’d really enjoy Velvette’s company and listening to her talk.

I also think Velvette would be mostly supportive (at the very least, completely okay) with Retros habits. She thinks their dedication is adorable. I think they talking about Vox’s work habits, too. Probably complain that he needs to take a break. Velvette offers valuable insight into what the workplace is like, so Retro has a better idea of the dynamics Vox holds with people, his habits, what he likes and what he doesn’t. They use this information to make him extra comfortable and relaxed after an especially long or tiring day of work. I don’t think Vox would really notice at first.

Retro berates Vox about his bad habits, how he needs to take care of himself, and I think he’ll start to listen. He’ll take a few more days off than usual, come home with flowers, and maybe go out for a nice dinner.

[missmarthanightingale]

i want to tell you guys a story from my life, about something that really happened in my family, & then i want to talk about that story in relation to what happened between ray & sand in ep10. let me be very clear -- this post is not intended to scold people for disliking ray. part of the reason i waited so long to write this was so i could have confidence that i was being fair & not letting my affection for the character colour what i wanted to say. i would really appreciate it if people who feel negatively about ray in particular took the time to read this & take it into consideration, as a sincere appeal from someone who has alcoholics in her family to really consider some of the ways i've seen this fandom talking about ray's addiction.

so. the story. some half-dozen years ago my uncle was trying to get sober. his marriage was on its last legs & no one wanted his kids to be living with their father while he was going through withdrawal if that could be avoided, so he came to stay with us for a while. my mum did her homework, understood enough to know that he shouldn't have easy access to alcohol in that time, & so we moved all of the alcohol we had to hand into a locked room in the cellar & gave the key to a neighbour for the duration of his stay. it went okay for a little while, & then my uncle had a fight with his wife over the phone, or something to that effect. in one night, he drank three half-bottles of prosecco which we'd forgotten we had stored in the garage.

we didn't even know that alcohol was there. we'd totally forgotten about it. but because we missed it, what should have been a bad night turned into a relapse. keeping alcohol in close proximity to a recovering alcoholic, especially in the early days of sobriety, makes it so, so easy for them to backslide. partly because constantly knowing it's there can wear on them, sure, but mostly because no matter how strong anyone's commitment, there will always be moments when they falter, & the easier it is made for them to relapse in those moments, the likelier it is that they will. & maybe not everyone in this situation would relapse, but you cannot know whether a person will or won't until it happens. most of it's up to factors far beyond your control. it is not worth taking that risk with someone you love.

so trust that i am speaking from bitter experience when i say that sand's home-brewing was always, always going to be a problem. they put it in the opening credits, for god's sake. i was absolutely certain from ep2, when we first found out about the plum wine, that whether ray ultimately tried to get sober or not, the easy access to alcohol that a relationship with sand granted him was destined to be point of conflict between them. sand was always going to have to confront the tension between his relationship with an alcoholic & his main (?) source of income being home-brewed alcohol, & he was always going to have to choose between them. & it is not fair to sand that he has to make that choice, i know. it's fine if you think that he made the wrong choice, or that he shouldn't have had to make that choice at all, but it was inevitable that he would have to, fair or not. because if you have an alcoholic in your life, you are most likely going to have to change your behaviours around them, in big ways & small, for their benefit. this is just how it goes.

i was astonished that there were people who seemed caught off-guard by this fight -- the only thing that surprised me was that it happened before ray was really taking rehab seriously, because i fully expected that this fight would happen after a relapse, likely one involving the plum wine, a couple months into sobriety. there was no version of this show that could both be honest about ray's alcoholism & fail to highlight this conflict at some point. they gave sand this source of income specifically so that sand & ray would have this problem down the line. it was so obvious to me that this was coming, i just took it as a given that everyone else saw it too. & again, this post is not intended to judge anyone for how they have interacted with this show or with this character, that's not what i'm here to do. but i do want to address an element of the way that i have seen some people talk about ray & his addiction.

it is fine if you don't like this character. i am not going to scold you for being understandably mad about the way that he has treated the people around him. but it is very frustrating, & sometimes downright upsetting, to occasionally see people speaking with great confidence on alcoholism despite saying things which i know from lived experience to be inaccurate, or worse, unfair. i am not here to judge you, but i am going to ask you extend a certain amount of grace to this character, & more importantly to all the people who see themselves or their loved ones in him. if you're going to talk about alcoholism, or the aspects of ray's character & actions which are intimately linked with his alcoholism, i would ask you to take some time to make sure that you do actually know what you're talking about. if you're criticizing ray -- & there is plenty to criticize! -- i would ask you to take a moment to think about whether you're really just holding him accountable, or if maybe you're being unduly harsh on him. i think there's more than a few people in this fandom who have some unexamined biases around addiction & those who struggle with it; this is an excellent opportunity for all of us to educate ourselves on this subject. i've been learning a lot about what different structured recovery programs look like; my uncle never pursued one, & i'd never sought out information on that before.

ray isn't real. none of the people he's hurting are real, either. but he & the people around him are a very well-written reflection of a very common, very difficult experience. you don't have to like him, but if you want to understand more about addiction i think he could be a really good starting point for that. if you don't want to, i genuinely get it -- sometimes you just want to watch a show & enjoy it without having to do homework. that's okay. but if that's your position, then please think twice before making public posts passing uninformed judgement on the show's representation of an incredibly complicated & sensitive topic.

i'll reiterate one last time that this post was not intended to judge, scold, or otherwise castigate; i hope that i've managed to maintain an acceptable level of the objectivity i was aiming for, & if i haven't, then my apologies, i definitely tried. if you're going to disagree with some of what i've written, that's fine, but please remember that i wrote all of this based on my personal experience with a family member, & be kind.