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#And I mean if he needs an excuse she could always give him a reason to need to rest up lol
sysig · 7 months
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For Requestober: Would you please draw some platonic/ambiguous fluff of Commander Peepers with Wander and/or Silvia? ^^
I love the grumpy little guy, he deserves all the love in the world <3
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Day 4 - Don't tempt me
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miserycanary · 1 month
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MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩
♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all
tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff
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"Sir? Sir!”
Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”
You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).
It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 
Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.
He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.
Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 
One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.
You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.
“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 
From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 
| The letter: 
‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 
With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’
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꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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flkwh0re · 2 months
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Team Player
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Pairing: Step-mom! Wanda Maximoff x Coach! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Age gap (Legal), Step-mom/Step-daughter relationship, Coach/Player relationship, Cheating, Manipulation(??), Threesome, Mommy Kink (W), Degrading, Spitting, Cum play(??), Fingering, Oral, Dom/Dom/Sub dynamic, Natasha has a penis, Unprotected sex, Brief breeding kink, Face riding
A/n: Love this dynamic, very odd unusual pairing tho 😭
Word count: 1,568
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Today was the day of your final game of your college teams basketball game. You anxiously waited around for your dad to show, knowing he’d probably not. He always had some excuse like being busy at work, or having made plans already.
That was never the case though, it was always the fact that he was just pure lazy and didn’t give two fucks about you and the stuff you did.
It hurt you, it hurt you badly. Your step mom, Wanda, on the other hand was amazing. Stepping up to take his place any moment she could. You honestly didn’t believe how the woman married that man, but little did you know she only stayed for you.
Wanda had developed a small crush on you, then it grew. Anytime she watched one of your games, she’d have an aching throb between her thighs. Watching your skilled body move around the court, the sweat dripping down your body. The tone in your voice as you yelled at your teammates, trying to get their attention. You truly were the mvp of the team, and everyone adored you.
As you stood around by the door waiting for him, one of your teammates informed you that your couch wanted you in the locker room. You huffed and began to walk away from the entrance, until the door flew open. You craned your head around and there stood Wanda.
“Oh my god Wanda you made it!” You yelped as your arms flew around her body, your taller figure towering her. “I couldn’t miss my favorite girls final game, now could I?” She chuckled, earning a giggling and smile from you.
“I’d walk you to the gymnasium, but coach wants me. Plus the game starts soon, so I’ll see you after?” You asked. “Why don’t I come with you? I have something I wanna try on you.” She hummed, to which you shuddered and nodded with confusion.
What could she possibly want to try, were your thoughts while you two walked to the locker room. Her hand resting on your back, almost too close to your ass.
Once the two of you reached the locker room, you guided her into where your coach was. “Coach Romanoff?” You asked, the older woman turning around. “Oh hello Y/n, I needed to discuss some things with you before the game. Who’s this?” Natasha pointed to Wanda.
“Oh this is Wanda, my step-mom.” Wanda extended her hand to Natasha. “Nice to meet you..?” Wanda paused, “Natasha.” She responded. Wanda nodded, “Nice to meet you Natasha.” Natasha nodded and took her hand, “Like wise.”
After a while of Natasha discussing game plans with you, Wanda’s hands rested on your shoulders. Massaging the tense muscles. “Detka, you’re so tense. What’s wrong?” She quipped, and you nervously eyed the two women. “I- just nervous I guess.”
You lied as well as you could, you knew it wasn’t believable thought. It was hard to hide the fact you had a massive crush on your step-mom, alone with your coach. You knew it was wrong, all so very wrong.
Natasha and you messed around a couple times, quickly shutting it down when you two were almost caught by one of your teammates. You didn’t know that Wanda knew though.
She had caught you texting her multiple times about non-basketball related things, but chose not to say anything. She did feel rather protective of you, which is why she insisted on coming with you to see Nat before the game.
Wanda hummed, then glanced up at Natasha. “I know that’s not the reason, it’s because your step-mom’s hands are rubbing across your muscles and your filthy coach keeps eyeing you. Such a dirty girl you are.”
A gasp escaped your lips, Natasha eyes painfully trained on Wanda. “What do you mean by that, Wanda?” She asked sternly, her teeth gritted.
“Oh don’t act like a fool, I know that you know you get Y/n here to whore herself out to you.” Another gasped came from you, Wanda’s fingers found your lips and pushed past them.
“Hush you little slut, don’t you act surprised either.” Whimpers escaped your lips, a groan erupted from Natasha. Wanda laughed darkly, her fingers toying with your mouth.
“Why don’t we help you out before the game? We can’t have you this tense before the game, it is the final after all.” Wanda suggested, and Natasha thought for a second before agreeing.
Wanda retracted her fingers from your mouth, earning a whine from you. Her hands slide down to the hem of your jersey, pulling it over your head followed by your bra.
Her long fingers tugged at your perky nipples, using your spit that lingered on her fingers to wet them. Wanda looked up at Natasha, “Don’t just stand there, get over here.” Natasha hurriedly walked over to the bench, sitting down next to you.
Her lips attach to your nipple, biting and sucking. As she did this, Wanda’s hands worked at your tense arms and shoulders. It drove you crazy having your step-mom standing behind you, while your coach was latched to your nipple.
Natasha’s hands wandered across your stomach, tracing your abs. Her hand then slipped past the hem of your basketball shorts, teasing your clit through your soaked panties. Her mouth left your tit, capturing your lips.
Her tongue tangled with yours, and you were so caught up in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Wanda moving to sit on the opposite side of you. Wanda watched the two of you as Nat pumped her fingers into your pussy, and your tongues dancing with one another. She also hadn’t failed to realize the prominent bulge in Nat’s pants.
She kneeled down in front of Natasha, unbuckling her belt and tugging her pants down. Wanda’s hand rubbed Natasha through her boxers, causing her to groan into your mouth.
Wanda pulled her boxers down, her cock springing free from its restraints. Wanda admired the woman’s size, her hands pumped at Natasha cock a few times. Her tip leaked with pre-cum.
Wanda’s lips wrapped around the coach’s cock, sheathing her cock down her throat. The sight of Wanda sucking off your coach quickened the arrival of your orgasm. Nat removed her hands from your panties, making a show of her cleaning them off. Even having Wanda lick your arousal off them.
“C’mon baby, come help mommy suck your coach’s cock.” Wanda suggested, as she grabbed your hand leading you to kneel in front of Natasha. Your tongue ran down Natasha’s dick, as so did Wanda’s.
You both took turns sucking her off, but Natasha was most fond of the way Wanda pumped the base of her cock and sucked her balls, while you sucked the tip of her cock.
With one final squeeze at the base of her cock, Natasha’s cum spurted into your mouth, you taking everything she gave. “Open your mouth, let me see her cum in your mouth.” Wanda demanded, so you stuck your tongue out. “Spit it into my mouth.”
You complied, trying your best to spit Nat’s cum into her mouth. Once you did, Wanda’s lips latched to yours. Your lips moved hungry against each other, cum dripping down both of your mouths.
Natasha pulled you to your feet, pulling off your pants and panties then, onto her lap. Giving you a searing kiss on the lips. Wanda took hold of Natasha’s cock, guiding it to your pussy. As you sunk down on Natasha, you whined at her size.
She began to bounce you on her cock, while Wanda took your hand and guided you to her pussy. Natasha lips suckled at your nipples, her fingers dug into your hips. You tried your best to finger Wanda as well as possible, but Nat’s erratic pace made all thoughts in your head disappear.
“M’ gonna breed this little pussy.” Natasha husked against your chest, throwing all abilities to think out the door. “Here, come eat mommy out while Natasha fucks you.” Wanda spoke up, aching for her own release.
Natasha helped you lay down, spreading her legs and shoving her cock back into you. Wanda straddled your face, her pussy hovered over your mouth. Your tongue flattened out past your lips, and Wanda began using your tongue to get off.
Wanda and Natasha shared a kiss as they both used you to get them own orgasms. Wanda furiously rode your face, while Natasha’s pace became unsteady. Her cock twitched, then her cum spilt from her cock. Yours and Wanda’s orgasms following quickly behind.
You lapped at Wanda’s pussy, drinking up all of her arousal. Nat pulled her cock out of you, your hole clenching around nothing. You whine at the empty feeling. “Hush baby, you gotta get out of here quickly. The game is about to start.” Natasha said.
Wanda quickly hopped of your face, then helped you collect your clothing and redress. She pressed a quick kiss on your lips. “You do good out there and I’ll reward you later on. Okay?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded, then she sent you on your way.
“What did you say to her?” Natasha asked as her eyebrow cocked. “Don’t worry about it coach, you better get out there too.” Wanda teased, and they both slipped back into their clothes.
Your team winded up winning the game, and Wanda kept her promise. Natasha also followed along.
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reiderwriter · 5 months
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😝 brain rot from my character ai scenario… the team goes out to a bar to celebrate and you wear a tiny little dress (just to rile him up obvi) but you also end up attracting a lot of male attentionand he gets SO jealous and protective of you he’s like sitting off to the side just watching you flirt with everyone and the team is like “he looks like hes gonna explode wtf” and then the SMUT HES ALL “they can’t have you, you’re all mine” “you really like all the attention huh? i’ll give you what you wanted” OMG it’s making me crazy i hope i described it good enough 🥰🥰
A/N: Is it really a reiderwriter smut if I don't have to clarify that 'I got carried away' at some point in the authors note? No, it is not. Thank you for the request. My brain is now equally rotted, oops.
Warnings: complaints, dirty talk, semi public sexual activity, partial voyeurism, fingering, hard/rough sex.
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You weren't even dating.
Which made the situation even more frustrating for Spencer, and even more exciting for you. 
You'd always flirted with the man a lot, had been told multiple times to knock it off even after getting a little too close for comfort on a case. 
But you couldn't really blame yourself on that one. You'd had to do a quick takedown at a dive bar, and you'd been tasked with pretending to be a touchy couple at the bar to block the back entrance at the staff entrance. 
You'd draped yourself all over him, allowing yourself to get closer than you'd ever been before. 
If you'd just happened to let your hands fall down to his crotch, it was pure coincidence. So was giving his obviously erect length a few strokes through his jeans as he sat staring at you like you were his last meal and he was back in prison. 
Emily had to pull you aside after that one personally. 
You knew she was protective of Spencer, seeing him as a little brother, but it seemed like she was more protective of you at that moment. 
“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” She'd asked, waiting carefully for your answer before she said anything more. 
Two could play at that game. “What is this concerning?” 
“With Spencer.” 
“I'm not sure what you mean, Emily.”
“Yes, you do. Listen, I don't care what you get up to in your personal life, but Spencer has a way of making others feel very… seen. He can get protective and pushy. And I just want to know you're ready for that, and you're not going to let it affect your work.”
“Is Spencer having the same talk?” 
She laughed at that. 
“Spencer? No. I already know it's going to affect his work, because it has since you joined our team. He still gets his job done, but I know where his priorities would lie if there were an emergency.” 
You'd shivered at that and excused yourself. 
If he was that obsessed with you, why had he not told you? Stepped over that line from friends to more than that?
You needed to force the issue, and you had the perfect opportunity when Penelope invited you out for drinks. 
“Y/N! Don't go, it's Friday night, we-” she said gesturing wildly to the team gathered around you, “are going to a bar. No, you can't rain check either.” 
“Can I at least get changed first?” 
“You need to get changed. We're going to a nice bar, Y/N.” Running off again to grab the rest of your team members and force their attendance, you grinned after Penelope. 
It was time to see exactly how focused on you Spencer Reid was.
And how willing he was to let you slip through his fingers.
An hour later, you were stepping out of your taxi, pulling your skirt down as you did. The short black dress had a terrible habit of pulling up your thighs to flash your underwear at anyone in a 10 foot radius. Usually, that bothered you, but tonight, you planned on using it to your advantage. 
After all, you'd left out the underwear tonight for a reason. 
Pulling your jacket around you tighter, you pushed the door to the bar open and scanned the room for your team members. 
“Y/N, over here!” Tara called you over, nursing a beer. Luke sat next to her, Penelope on his other side, and Matt on hers and completing the group was Spencer Reid. 
“Where are JJ and Emily?” You asked, doing your very best to ignore Spencer as you sat down next to him, practically falling into his warmth. You sat so close to him. 
“At the bar. Emily is convinced she can flirt her way to a free drink, and JJ is convinced she cannot. The girl she's working on now has to be 22 at most, so it could honestly go either way.” Penelope answered, and you felt Spencer shift slightly beside you. 
“Speak of the devil,” Luke said as the two women approached. 
“Well? What's the result?” You grinned up at them, letting your head fall back against Spencer’s shoulder as you gently rested your hand on his thigh. He sat silently for a minute, not moving and just taking in the conversation. 
“I've still got it.” Emily grinned triumphantly. 
“Maybe I should give it a try. There are a few hot male bartenders tonight. Who knows, I might score more than just a drink.” 
Spencer choked on the drink he was sipping as you spoke quickly, a few knowing looks passing between every other person at the table. You'd have to be blind to miss it. Or Spencer. 
“Spencer, are you okay? You should be careful, I wouldn't want you to choke. That's how I want to end my night, but it's not for everyone.” That one earned you a few snickers from the others and a glare from the man himself. 
“I'm fine, thank you, Y/N.” He smiled down at you and gave your knee a friendly tap that turned slightly less friendly as he pushed it further up your leg. 
The others had since averted their attentions, moving their conversation onto other things, but you and Spencer were still stuck in each other's orbits. 
Your heart beat faster until you were sure it could be seen, raw and fit to burst out of your chest. His fingertips brushed your hem. He was seconds away from realising that you were going to get the attention you wanted that night. 
Slipping just an inch up the hem, he twitched almost imperceptibly as he searched for your panty line, brows knitting when he couldn't find it. 
“What's wrong, Spencer? Searching for something that isn't there?” You enjoyed watching his frown deepen as he registered your words, but you enjoyed it even more when you gently pushed his hand away as you stood. 
“Well, I need a drink. Let's hope I can recreate your success, Emily.” You said, finally pushing off your jacket. The dress may have been short, but it was also low cut, burning the candle at both ends as your breasts threatened to spill over with any particularly deep breath. 
“Sweet lord in heaven! You didn't come to play tonight.” Penelope exclaimed, practically applauding your body as you twirled for her and showed off the form fitting dress, giggling all the way. 
“You said it was a nice bar, Penelope. I'm hoping there are also some very nice men here, too.” With a wink, you turned on your heel and strode to the bar, making sure your hips swung seductively with every step. 
You couldn't immediately give in and turn to see if he was watching you when you got to the bar, though, not willing to give him the satisfaction. You were doing it all for him, but you still didn't want him to know that.
It didn't take long for men to swarm you. They came one at a time, and you entertained them each as you waited for your unnecessarily complex cocktail order to be prepared. 
In the 7 minutes you'd been away from the table, you'd been approached by three separate men. They all tried lines on you, gave you their numbers and tried their best to woo you, but with Spencer’s eyes burning across your body as you leaned against the bar, you really couldn't have cared less. 
Still, you leaned in, giggled in the appropriate places, and took the numbers, knowing they'd never be called.
When your cocktail was finally ready, and the last one offered to fund it for you  You finally felt a hand at your back. 
“That won't be necessary, thank you.” Spencer ended the conversation, handing his own card over to the bartender as he kept his hand on your back, his body crowding yours. 
The man walked away in defeat, and you turned on him, sipping your drink as you refused to move away.
“Now why ruin all my fun, Spencer?” 
“You're really enjoying all this attention, huh?” He said, pushing your hair behind your ear as he leaned closer to you, his next word a whisper against your skin.
“I can see your pussy from all the way back there,” he said, tugging down your skirt slightly. You weren't surprised though  simply taking another sip and maintaining eye contact. 
“I know.” His hand, having slipped up to your waist, tightened as his gaze dropped to your lips. 
“You want everyone to see your dripping cunt? Want to let all the men here take a turn trying to catch your attention so they can slip in?” His voice was low, practically a growl as he licked his lips.
“No. I wanted to see how long it'd take you to come over and do it. By my count, that was eight minutes, correct?” 
“Good girl. Just remember that you're mine. I'm not letting anyone else have you.” Giving your face a gentle stroke, he let it trail down your body, subtly cupping and squeezing your chest on the way down. 
“All of a sudden, I feel very tired, Spencer. Take me home.” He wasted no time, grabbing your hand and gathering you up, your jacket and bag collected from the desk as he gave minimal answers to the others as you departed. To their credit, they asked minimal questions. 
The cold air hit you hard as you pushed the doors open again, but Spencer was unperturbed, pulling you over to his car silently, a strong hand on your shoulder helping you into the passenger's seat.
You dare not talk the entire drive to his apartment, so sure that any word from you would have him turning immediately to deposit you right back at the bar. 
He didn't, though, but he also didn't look at you or touch you. You sat squirming at the heavy atmosphere, suddenly desperate to know exactly what thoughts were trapped inside Spencer’s impressive brain. 
“We're here.” He announced, pulling up quickly and cutting the engine, climbing out in a hurry. 
You fumbled with your own seat belt as he pulled your door open, catching you up in his arms as he closed the door behind you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, letting him carry you up the stairs to his apartment.
His lips didn't meet yours until the door was firmly closed and locked behind you, and even then, he didn't immediately dive in. He out you down, and a touch of disappointment flooded your body as he completely entangled himself from you. 
It dissipated completely when his hand wrapped around your throat. 
“Let me be clear, Y/N. You are mine. If you want attention, I will give it to you. If you want to choke on something, I'm more than happy to provide it. If you want to dress like a little whore, go ahead, but don't forget who your sweet little cunt belongs to.” His fingers tightened with each word as you gasped for air, back resting on the nearest wall as his body pressed up along your own. 
“Do you understand?” He asked, and you nodded repeatedly, fast and desperate. 
“Good. Now, ass up on the bed. I'll meet you there.” You practically sprinted to the room in question, slinking up onto the bed. He said ass up, but you hesitated slightly as he quietly shut the bedroom door behind you, just long enough to earn a slap on your ass as he finally returned to your side. 
“You have to listen, Y/N. You wanted this, so you have to listen nicely.” 
“I'm sorry, Spencer, it won't happen aga-” He stole the end of your sentence as he slipped his fingers into you, gently working the two longest ones up into a frenzy as he finger fucked you. 
“Sorry, what was that? I don't think I quite caught your words.” You could only moan in reply as you buried your head in his pillows, ass pressing back into his fingers to help him get deeper.
“So needy. Look at this little black dress. You knew this was going to happen, right?” A third finger slipped inside you, and you screamed out in pleasure as he continued using you.
“Burying your head isn't going to work, Y/N. Your cunt is answering for you.” 
You heard the rattle of his belt unbuckling as his fingers finally slipped out, the emptiness only a relief for a second before his cock was hitting deep inside of you. 
Thoughts escaped you as you finally got what you'd been begging for for weeks. His every frustration was pounded into you as he tugged at your hair, pulling your torso up so he could hit even deeper. 
Pulling back your head with a hand on your throat he laid a barrage of kisses across your upper back and shoulders, making sure to bite and suck and nip as his spare hand toyed with your nipples, pinching and pulling. 
In a second, you reached your climax, not having the breath left in you to let him know before you tightened on his shaft and let your body fall limp under his hands. 
“I'm going to mop up our cum with this dress, Y/N, and then I'm going to make you put it back on.” With a final grunt, he pulled out, jerking his cock through his release as he shot his load right over your pussy lips. 
He collapsed on top of you, and you finally gave up your last bit of strength beneath him, enjoying the pressure of his weight pushing down on you again. 
“Thank god that worked,” you gasped, catching your breath. You smiled as he flipped you over and pulled the dress off your head, true to his word. 
“What worked, Y/N?” 
“This. You don't know the lengths I'd have gone to to get you yo finally fuck me if this hadn't worked.” 
“But suddenly, I'm curious, and I have all the time in the world.” You laughed lightly but snuggled into his chest again, meaning to sleep. 
“Unless you want to get dressed again now…?” 
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harstyle · 4 months
Text
pretty
Summary: Your good friend Harry Styles might just be the hottest, most gentleman-liest guy you‘ve ever laid eyes on, so it really is a shame that you‘re not his type. featuring lotsss of pining, insecurities on both sides and a hefty crying sesh (it‘s all a bit pathetic and cheesy really😭)
Pairing: uni-student!y/n + uni-student!harry
Word Count: 6.2k
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“You’re beautiful, y’know that?”
He was impossibly close, nose mere inches away from hers, and held this expression that could easily make her cry if only she looked at it long enough. Y/N couldn’t handle the pressure of the moment, his intense eyes on hers. It was something out of a romance movie.
And she was left so speechless that all she could say to him was: “uh, t-thanks. Thanks. You too.” It wasn‘t like she disagreed with him, but the sheer intensity, the closeness with which he delivered his compliment made her weak at the knees.
He smiled at her like he’d known she would cower away and brushed some stray hairs away from her eyes. “James doesn’t deserve you. You know that, right?”
In full transparency, Y/N had forgotten all about James. She’d forgotten the reason for her tears the moment Harry had shown up at her flat to give her that long hug she’d been needing.
The only reason James had stumbled into her life at all was Harry anyway. Call it a distraction, a means to numb the jealousy she felt whenever she saw Harry out with another girl.
“I get it, though. I should’ve known he’d be that way, people warned me before going out with him. That he only takes out cheerleaders. Should’ve known he did it for a laugh.”
Harry was similar to James in that regard— he had a type and everyone knew it. Y/N didn’t fall under his category of ‘girls to date’. She often wondered why she always went for guys who would never even look in her direction— a bit of self hatred, maybe. A will to punish herself.
“Hey, stop that. You’re beautiful. Don’t find excuses for his behavior.”
“I’m not, I just… I should’ve seen it coming, is all.”
“No, what we’re not going to do is blame ourselves for other people’s mistakes. James fucked up. He did. And that’s it. You move on, you come back stronger and show him he didn’t leave even a tiny scratch.”
“You’re right. Of course.”
He smiled, “do you feel better?”
“A bit,” Y/N nodded with a sturdy exhale, “thanks for being there for me always. I really appreciate it.”
“What are best friend for, ey?”
It never felt less unnerving to hear those words coming out of his mouth. And really, she knew that realistically they were nothing more, but sometimes, especially late at night when no one was around and all of her uni stress had been shoved into a closet for the day, Y/N let herself believe it was real. That he liked her back. She needed to get a grip and open her eyes to the cold harsh truth; that a friend was all she would ever be in his eyes.
She swallowed a lump in her throat and averted her eyes towards her interlinked fingers. “Yeah.”
“You okay?”
Y/N had long mastered the art of feigning a smile, so it came easily for her to flash her teeth at Harry in this moment.
“Course. Let’s make some dinner, I’m hungry.”
“Hey, it’s Y/N right?”
Y/N had seen this girl around before. She remembered because every time she would pass by on campus, Y/N had to admire her beauty; how her makeup always seemed effortless and her clothes complimented her perfect figure in just the right way, how her hair was always in a wave that Y/N could never perfectly recreate and her walk never droopy or tired, perfected by an angelic touch.
Y/N didn’t know this girl, but she’d always wanted to be like her.
“Yeah, hi.” Despite the inherent intimidation, Y/N smiled at her, “can I help you?”
Y/N felt ugly standing in front of her. She’d had to rush out of bed this morning for her analysis class, forgotten mascara and her staple lip balm. She looked monstrously unwell.
“My name’s Iris, I was wondering… god, this is a bit embarrassing, but you’re good friends with Harry, right?”
Y/N saw where this was going off of the jump. It happened way too often for her not to.
And her heart broke just a little more then, because so far, it’d been random girls she knew stood no chance with Harry. But Iris was just perfectly crafted for him, cookie cutter pretty and impressively confident. She had everything Y/N was still hastily working on.
“Uh, yeah.”
“I was wondering if you could give him my number? I saw him at the party last night and we chatted for a bit, but I forgot to write it down for him.”
Y/N had been at that party too, she just didn’t see that. Harry had barely even left her side. Must’ve been when she‘d gone to the bathroom.
“Oh, sure.”
“Great! Thank you so much.”
Iris handed her a little post it with her digits written along with a lovely note about having had a fun time.
Y/N walked to her 8am analysis class with a crucial feeling of hatred for the world and everything in it bubbling in her chest.
“Hi, babe.” Harry pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek like it was normal before finding his reserved seat next to her, surprising both her and their friends. If Kacy was all too shocked, though, she didn‘t show it, simply widening her grin in response to Harry‘s presence. “Hi, guys.”
“You finally showed up!” Kacy exclaimed, drawing the attention on him with her loud voice. Harry was so busy that he could be hard to track down, which made him an easy target for the occasional jab. In all fairness, he’d seen Y/N almost every day, just not his other friends— and in full honesty, that was enough for him.
“Yeah, sorry, finals week.”
“Y/N found the time,” Sebastian chimed in, tone laced with a tinge of earnestness, although Y/N and Harry could tell he was only teasing.
Harry retorted fairly quickly, “cause she has no other social life.”
At Harry’s words Y/N turned her head at him, mouth dropping open in genuine offense. She couldn’t do anything other than laugh, but really she should’ve hit him for saying that. “So you’re a whore and a backstabber!”
Harry cackled, that beautiful laugh escaping his mouth and blessing her ears, pulling her into his side and hugging around her frame. “I’m only joking!”
“Whatever. I’m not speaking to you the rest of the night.”
“Sure. You try that and we’ll see how that works out for you, babe.”
Everyone but them saw what their future could look like if they both stopped being stubborn and admitted their feelings for one another. Even sitting here, Kacy could see the way Y/N’s lips molded into a smile at Harry’s touch and the way he beamed whenever she played into his antics. Their bond was effortless in the way many couples wished theirs to be— it looked so easy for them to mesh together. Their friends knew they could be happy together and it frustrated them to see no progress being done.
By the end of the night, Y/N and Harry were blubbering drunk messes leaving the bar together. Y/N had taken it upon herself to call the uber back to his for the night.
“God, that was sooo fun,” Harry slurred out, “shame they’re closing soon.”
“You should come more often, we do this every week!”
Both Y/N and Harry were all smiles, looking at each other with excitement radiating from their bodies. It’d been long since they really let go.
“I’m so happy you’re here with me, you know that?”
Her heart rate plummeted.
Sometimes Harry said things drunk that wouldn’t pass as ‘normal’ when sober. He was close, grinning at her like a puppy in love and spoke with such confidence that Y/N was sure he couldn’t have not meant it.
“I’m happy you’re here, too, H.”
“No, like seriously though. You’re the best person I know.”
Heat rushed to Y/N’s cheeks. He was really testing her waters here.
“Oi, shut it. What do you want from me? Why’re you buttering me up?”
Harry shrugged, “nothin’. You really are. Just accept the compliment.”
“Fine,” Y/N smiled in a bashful manner, “thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Y/N stared at her boots, grinning to herself. Comfortable silence went on for a few short minutes, just the sound of the wind wafting by and quiet, calm breathing. Occasionally a car they looked up to to check it wasn’t their ride.
It was such a nice atmosphere.
Y/N was sure nothing could ruin this night for her. She was so happy, so careless in the way uni had long prohibited her from being. She wanted to exist in her little snug bubble forever, a place to hide from the real world with the person she admired most. She‘d sacrifice anything if she could keep this feeling for a bit longer.
And then, as if god disagreed with Y/N‘s pursuit of happiness, a needle set out to burst her bubble.
That needle was Harry, and outside of the bubble, it was cold.
“Can I kiss you?”
The ground beneath her shattered at his words.
Was he… serious?
Because this was her dream. If he‘d been serious, then her dreams came true in exactly the worst way.
Y/N had wanted a kiss from Harry since they became friends all those years ago, but not like this. Not drunk. Not on some stupid impulse. Not when they would wake up and realize it had been a mistake in a few hours. If she’d been willing to risk their relationship because of one shortlived kiss, she would’ve done it a long time ago.
He couldn’t do this to her! He couldn’t do this because to her, this wasn’t just fun. It wasn’t a cute little memory to look back on. Oh remember when we got drunk and kissed? Wasn’t that so funny? No, to her this was more. It was her whole livelihood, the cruxes which her heart depended on.
So although it hurt more than anything she’d ever had to do, Y/N shook her head. Her head barely moved, like her brain was plotting against it as well as her heart, but it did shake just enough to give him an inkling.
“Don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He was quiet for a few seconds (although she could feel his eyes burning a hole into her) before eventually retorting with a weakened, “why not?”.
“You’re drunk.”
“Been wanting to for a long time, Y/N.”
“Harry,” she stressed, voice quivering. Her next words came out in a whisper, “shut up.”
This time, he surrendered.
They waited for their uber in complete silence and when it came for them to sleep, Harry chose to stay on the couch instead of sharing the bed with her. Although Y/N was excruciatingly tired, she couldn’t for the life of her close her eyes.
She’d fucked up so badly.
Y/N felt slightly out of place as she slid into Harry’s kitchen in the morning. She looked at him already sat at the breakfast table with an array of pastries waiting for her.
“Hey.”
Harry nodded, “hi, help yourself. Went to the bakery on my run.”
“Thanks,” she murmured quietly, almost to herself. She was too scared to look at him.
“I don’t want it to be awkward between us, so I’ll just cut to the chase: I’m sorry about last night. I know I was drunk and weird and it won’t happen again. You were right.”
Y/N’s eyebrows shot up just slightly, the sheer surprise evident on her features. He was really bringing it up now!
“… right about…?”
“Bout it not being a good idea. I’ve never… I was really out of it, you know? Wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”
Wow. Yes, obviously it would’ve been a mistake, Y/N knew that more than anyone. But his apology did more damage than good. It was like a knife was being pushed through her chest, agonizingly slow as to make it more painful. Harry had confirmed exactly how uninterested he was in trying anything more with her and it just about devastated her. And yes, in all fairness, it was unjust because she’d been the one to reject him last night but a tiny sliver of hope that he would reach out his arms and say ‘I still feel the same, I still want to kiss you!’ still possessed her delusional mind all night.
“Oh, that. Yeah.”
Harry tried to catch her eyes, “so are we cool?”
“We’re cool.”
Y/N was barely floating now. She didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to exist.
It hurt too much to exist sometimes.
“Y/N?”
She snapped out of it. “Hm? yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. You just reminded me of this girl I met yesterday, Iris,“ her shaking hand slid into her pocket to find the little note she‘d kept stored and handed it to him without making eye contact. Her body was on fire.
“Oh.”
“She wanted me to give you her number, said something about a party where you lot met.”
Y/N watched as realization dawned on him, probably a fleeting memory of Iris now soberly imprinted on his mind. She could imagine all the ways in which he thought about somebody like Iris, somebody who would be so perfect for him.
“Right. Thank you.”
“No problem. I should probably head out to mine and get a few uni things done before I get too lazy.”
Unprompted, Harry ignored her statement. She had a feeling he didn’t even want to hear her. “I didn’t want to text her. Completely forgot about her, actually.”
Y/N couldn’t find the answer as to why.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I didn’t… I don’t really like her like that.”
“Really? Iris was under the impression that… I mean, maybe she’s mistaken, but she told me about your little hangout sesh and it seemed nice, you know?” Harry’s eyes held something a little different— confusion, curiosity and a bit of sadness. It drove Y/N crazy deciphering him. “And Iris seems exactly like the type of girl you’d like.”
Then his eyebrows drew together, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
Y/N shrugged, body sinking and slowly becoming one with the chair, “just… pretty, is all.”
“A lot of girls are pretty, Y/N, doesn’t mean I automatically wanna date them when I talk to them once.”
“Yeah, but… Iris is your kind of pretty. She’s confident and I’m sure she’s funny.”
“My kind of pretty? What are you implying?”
“Nothing! Jesus, Harry, I just think Iris would be a good fit for you. She’s your type, is all.”
Harry scoffed like he took offense to Y/N’s reply, “and I’m sure you know exactly what my type is, huh? Cause I’m so surface level that I’m only into the same girl, yeah? What, blonde and tall?”
“Harry, that’s not—“
“Then what do you mean to say by that?”
“I just—“
“You’re boxing me together with that dickhead James!”
“No, Harry, I’m not— and if you would just listen to me, you’d understand that!” Y/N finally broke, raising her voice by a few notches so Harry would hear her over his loud accusations. “I’m not implying to you, by thinking you might be into her, that you’re surface level. I’m just saying, Iris seems like she would be your type because in the past, you’ve gone for girls like her. That isn’t bad, okay? I’m not criticizing, just pointing out. You’re into pretty girls.”
“Prettiness is subjective, Y/N, and what you’re doing right now is putting me in a box. What does that even mean, pretty girls? Clearly you’re implying I only date girls that are conventionally attractive because that’s my definition of pretty.”
“So what if it is? I didn’t say it’s anything bad,” Y/N leaned back in the chair, volume lowering as if she couldn’t argue with that statement. “Everybody’s allowed a type.”
“It’s just… you’re using the word type in a derogatory way.”
“How the fuck am I using the word type in a derogatory way?”
“Sounds like you’re saying I’m some dickhead who only goes off of looks. Only goes for tall blonde girls cause they’re tall blonde girls and not because they’re nice people.”
“When did I say that?!” Y/N was bewildered by this. She hadn’t meant anything bad by it! “I have a type too, you know that! And that’s okay!”
“Oh yeah fucking tell me about your type, Y/N, go on.”
“What is your problem?”
“My problem is that you were just crying about James only dating cheerleaders a week ago and now you’re here putting the same thing on me!” Y/N breathed out in distress, finding less ways of deescalating the situation. “Be honest, then, what do you really think of me?”
“What are you even… I love you, H, I’m your best friend, I would never dream of insulting you. I was just saying that you seem to have a type, which there is nothing with!”
“So then what does pretty mean?”
“Just… pretty, okay? Don’t read too much into it.”
“No, I want to hear it. Describe pretty to me.” The word pretty had been spoken out so many times in such vain, that its meaning had became trivial at best.
“I don’t know, H, Girls like Jess, Angelina, Diana, Elle… which, if you were to write out their characteristics; they’re all blonde, tall, skinny girls. I’m not saying that you go off of looks, but I do think you have preferences, and that’s fine. That’s healthy, even.”
Then he scoffed again, but significantly quieter this time around. “Right, you brought the fucking receipts to the table, didn’t you? Do you usually think so lowly of me everywhere you go?”
It hurt to have this distance between her and Harry. They’d always gotten along so well before, so why did this have to become what it had? It had all come out of nowhere and Y/N didn’t have the strength or the energy to lose the one thing she constantly depended on to be okay.
“I don’t… Harry, I don’t think lowly of you. I just thought that you might like Iris.”
“I’m sure you did then.”
“Harry,” she sighed, “please, I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“I didn’t, got it perfectly clear. So one question though, am I allowed to like brunettes? Or is that too daring?”
“Harry, stop. Why are you being such a dickhead?”
“I’m being a dickhead?”
“Yes, you are.”
“At least I have history with girls for you to come to that conclusion yourself, right? Maybe when you find the courage to actually talk to a guy I’ll be able to find out what your kind of pretty is.”
And it wasn’t meant to be a jab, surely, at least not a terribly painful one, but it hit Y/N stronger than she would have liked. Who was he, making fun of her dating life? This wasn’t the Harry who reassured her after every pathetic bad date, who convinced her that it would be okay if she didn’t find her man straight away as long as she was happy. She’d loved Harry for a year now and there was something so liberating in exploring unknown territory, in partaking in the so called ‘chase’ (maybe somewhat masochistic, liking the torment of the unknown) but that feeling came to a full stop now that it had become clear that Harry didn’t love her back. Before, it had been speculation— now, it was real. And although she’d expected pain, this was cold blooded torture.
Harry didn’t look regretful, but that was because he had no idea what his words actually meant for her. Sometimes she wondered how the people she loved most could hurt her so much as to kick her down to the floor and repeatedly stomp on her body.
Without a word, Y/N stiffened her shoulders in an attempt to seem stronger and stood up from the table with a low intake of breath.
“Y/N.”
“Fuck you, Harry,” she muttered quietly but defiantly as she slipped on her shoes and opened the door out.
She didn’t have anywhere to go, but she knew anywhere else would suffice better than here.
Y/N wasn’t even surprised when she saw Harry and Iris arriving at the party together with the biggest smiles on their faces. Kacy turned to her and widened her eyes, motioning to the couple by the door with a questioning stare. Y/N simply shrugged.
She’d been hurting by herself, cramped away in her flat with a bottle of wine and three boxes of tissues and hoping for a little break when Kacy had asked her out tonight— but here he was, ready to ruin her minute of relief.
“She gave him her number through me last week… guess he finally called her.” Y/N explained, lowering her voice. “We haven’t talked since that morning after the bar.”
Kacy’s eyes widened again, because the last time Y/N had spent so much time away from Harry had been Christmas— and even then, they’d called each other every day.
“Why?”
Y/N simply shook her head, unwilling to elaborate. All Kacy could do was pull her into a tight hug and ask her what she wanted to do next.
“I just…” Y/N’s breaths shook, “I’m so tired, Kace.”
And although Y/N had never brought up the topic of Harry, Kacy knew exactly what she was referring to and her heart broke for her friend.
“Let’s go to one of the bedrooms.”
Y/N gave a stuffy nod and followed as Kacy lead the way upstairs.
Once they’d sat down, Y/N began to open her mouth. Her arms hugged around her own frame and tears were building in her eyes.
“Talk to me, Y/N. What happened?”
“He… I don’t know, Kace, he just got so mad at me. I was giving him Iris’ number and he said that he didn’t like her. I told him he should probably call her because I think she’d be good for him— I think I said ‘she’s your type’ or something like that, which is a normal thing to say! And then he went ballistic on me.” Y/N sniffed her nose, “I was just trying to be nice. He started accusing me of finding him surface level even though I implied no such thing.“
“Oh, honey,” it was through Kacy’s pitiful expression that Y/N noticed the ugly tears cascading down her swollen cheeks. “I don’t wanna make you feel worse, babe, but that doesn’t sound like Harry. Maybe you worded something wrong? Or he just heard you wrong?”
“No, I tried multiple times to clear it up, but he kept the attitude.”
“What did he say?”
“Well, I said that he likes pretty girls and he said what do you mean pretty girls? and so I described what I thought his type was, which is tall blondes, you know? And I even said that having preferences is healthy and that I don’t mind but he thought I was boxing him in. But don’t you agree? Isn’t that his type?” Kacy took too long to answer, making Y/N grow insecure, “Come on, he only dates tall blondes!”
“That’s not even true, Y/N. What about Vanessa?”
She rolled her eyes, “fine, one tall redhead.”
“It’s not that, it’s just… I think he was offended because he thought you were calling him some kind of jerk who only goes off of looks.”
“But he’s… he’s great, Kace, really, and I love him, but he does always date attractive supermodel type girls. I mean, good for him, but you know? And I don’t at all think I’m ugly, I think I’m pretty, but not his kind of pretty.”
“Okay, but… okay, what were you talking about before the whole Iris thing?”
“It’s a long story,” Y/N groaned, head falling into her hands, “when we were drunk he asked me if he could kiss me. I said no.”
“What?! Why would you say no?”
“Because we were drunk! And then the next morning he said I was right, that it would’ve been a mistake and we would’ve regretted it.”
Kacy’s mouth was kind of wide open, “and then you brought up Iris?”
“Yes, because I needed a change of topic.”
“But right after that he said he didn’t like Iris.”
“Yes.”
“And then you accused him of being surface level and he got mad?”
“Kacy, I literally didn’t! I—“ Y/N stopped defending herself because she knew she couldn’t cheat her way out of it. “Yes, maybe, okay? So what?”
“So he totally loves you.”
At that point Y/N started laughing— a genuine laugh made its way out of her mouth and she started shaking her head. Her laugh simmered down to a little chuckle and then she got tears in her eyes again. A rollercoaster of emotions.
“Right, sure. Hope you stretched before you took that reach! He said right before that he’d never have asked if he was sober.”
“He was saving face because you refused to kiss him.”
“Kacy, no,” she sighed, “don’t feed me that bullshit. You’re going to give me hope and I can’t take any more of that, okay?”
“He got mad you think he only likes blondes because he loves you and you don’t even see it,” Kacy elaborated even further, which bothered Y/N on so many levels. She’d told her to stop.
“I can’t, Kace,” Y/N cried, covering her eyes with her palms and letting the tears flow out, “I’m so fucking tired of feeling unwanted and like I’m not enough. Like whatever I do, there’s still some other girl who gets his attention. I can’t go on loving him and being his second girl every day. He goes on bad sex dates and comes home to me, goes to parties where he does body shots off of other girls, and then cuddles me in bed. I just can’t do it. One day he’ll get married and expect me to be his best man and that’s way more than I can take.”
“Look, I understand, but all you need to do is talk to him.”
“I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to lose him.”
“Isn’t it better to lose him now than to feel like this every day and lose him in a few years when you’ve physically broken yourself down over it? Isn’t it better to know? I know you won’t lose him because I see the way he looks at you and I see how he treats you. And he’d be stupid not to like you back. But if I‘m wrong, wouldn‘t it still be better to know?“
“No. I can do without knowing. If he knows and he doesn’t feel the same it’ll be weird and I can’t lose him. I can’t, Kace, he’s the only thing holding me together. Look at me, I’m such a fucking mess.”
“Y/N, eyes up,” Kacy ordered, taking ahold of Y/N’s forearm and forcing her to look at her, “you’re allowed little moments of weakness. Love does crazy things sometimes. You need to tell him or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”
Y/N’s eyes stung hard.
The door opened in that moment, forcing the sound of the music into the otherwise quiet room with a force. Both girls looked up to find Harry by the door, his eyebrows drew together in concern at the sight of his teary eyed best friend. It didn’t matter what they were going through, their bond was strong enough for him to know something was seriously wrong.
“Are you okay?”
It was then that Kacy took her cue to leave, to Y/N’s dismay, and stood up from the chair to let Harry take her place. She closed the door behind her to give the two of them privacy.
“Y/N, you okay?”
“Yeah,” she tried to smile, though due to the tears it was clear as day that she was perpetually telling him lies whenever he asked her that question. “I’m okay.”
“Hey, come on,” he whispered into the quiet, inching closer to trap her chin between his fingers, “tell me what’s wrong. Did some asshole hurt you?”
“Yeah,” she nodded with a small sniffle. The asshole is you. “I’m just… having boy trouble. It’s okay. You should go back to the party.”
“Fuck the party. Who hurt you? I hope you mean your feelings, not physically…” He’d started raking over her body to check for bruises, a tick in his jaw.
“No! God, no, just my feelings. And I’ll get over it.” I couldn’t ever get over you. “Isn’t Iris waiting for you? I saw you arrive together.”
“Oh,” his features hardened for a split second. Y/N blinked and it was gone. “No, we ran into each other outside and talked for a bit. She asked me out, so… I think I’m going to go.”
It was like he was testing her, staring into her eyes to capture the exact moment she crumbled. But she didn’t. She held her head high and gave a subtle nod. “Sounds good.”
He sighed. It was quiet and could almost be classified as a simple exhale, but she knew it wasn’t.
“So who’s the guy?”
Sometimes he could be so oblivious that Y/N wondered how he’d made it so far in life. Surely he was only playing the part, right?
“Doesn’t matter,” Y/N shrugged. She was starting to cry again. “He’s insignificant.” You could never be insignificant to me.
“Should I talk to him?”
Yeah, that would be good. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just… get over him.”
“Well I don’t like seeing you hurt, baby,” he tilted his head, cupping over her jaw and brushing over her skin delicately. The room was dimly lit to make it all the more romantic, but Y/N couldn’t fully be immersed in it. “No guy is worth your tears. You’re beautiful and brave and so so funny. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Y/N. You’re the most perfect girl there ever was and if he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
He couldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t speak of her the way she always wished he would speak of her, but not mean it. It showed her what he was capable of— loving her, paying her attention the right way. She was left shattered.
“See, you say that, but you…” Y/N broke down in tears, “but nobody ever means it.”
He tilted her head up so he could stare deeply into her eyes and utter his next words in full honesty, “I mean it. I promise you, Y/N, I mean what I said with everything I have in my body. I mean it every time I say it when I’m drunk and I mean it when I’m sober. I mean it when you’ve just woken up and I mean it when we’re studying together at night. I mean it and I will always mean it.”
Instead of making her happy, his words made her cry even more.
“Harry,” she cried, bending her neck forward so the top of her head rested on his chin, “it hurts so much.”
“Come on, baby, it’s not worth it.” Then he started kissing the crown of her head, moving down to her temple and rubbing circles into her shoulders. “It’s not worth it.”
But he was worth it. He clouded her vision and made her feel lightheaded. He had the power to make her cry and the power to make her so unbelievably happy that she couldn’t imagine having ever been unhappy. He made her wonder how she could’ve lived such a mediocre, painful life before he entered it— that was the kind of power he possessed.
Y/N didn’t have to think twice about kissing him, she just did. She looked up at Harry and inched closer to rest her lips on his, and it caused emotions in her body she didn’t even know were possible. Harry seemed surprised but he caught on fairly quickly, letting her take the lead in the kiss until it’d been a few seconds and he felt her deepening it.
He pulled away, eyes finally opening.
She was startled. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”
He shook his head gently, letting a reassuring smile sit on his lips, “no, but I’m worried about you. I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this when you’re crying over another guy, you know? I don’t want to be your numbing medication.”
“You’re… not,” her eyebrows drew together.
“You didn’t want to kiss me last week. It’s seeming like an ‘I miss another guy so I’ll hook up with you to numb the pain’ situation and I just… I don’t want either of us to regret it.”
He was trying to be nice— and he was, really was, but the sinking feeling in Y/N’s stomach worsened.
“That’s because we were drunk last week.”
“You’re hurting over another person, Y/N.”
“He’s not important, I just want to kiss you. I want to have sex with you. Okay? Because I want to, not because I’m into some other dickhead.”
Harry seemed to have trouble believing her, “I can’t.”
“Okay, whatever. It’s fine.” Y/N stood up from her chair, creating some distance between her and Harry and started walking away from him. He held onto her hand though, preventing her from moving too far.
“Y/N, come on.”
“No, genuinely, I don’t want to coerce you into having sex with me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She was being honest. She didn’t want Harry to feel like she was using him under false pretenses.
But having him think that was still better than confessing.
“I didn’t think you were coercing me into doing anything, Y/N, I just don’t want you to regret it.”
“Yeah,” tears built in her eyes again and she bit her lip to hold them in, “you’re a really good guy, Harry.”
When he stood up to offer her comfort, she immediately took a step back and held her hand in front of her in an effort to force him away. “Please don’t.”
“Y/N…” He looked pained and thoroughly confused at her cold behavior. Harry knew she tended to close off whenever she felt bad about herself, but that had applied mostly to other people. Harry, on the other hand, had always been successful in finding a way to pull back her in.
“No, I’m embarrassed. Jesus, I’m such a mess! I was talking about this with Kacy, I‘m just… I‘m all over the place.”
“You’re not a mess. You’re hurting, that’s normal.”
“I just asked you to fuck me, that’s… who the fuck does that? Since when am I like this?”
“Since you’ve been hurt,” he countered, “love makes you do weird things. God knows I get a bit crazy too when I’m in love.”
“No you don’t,” she said to him, voice hoarse and uncomfortable, “you’re fucking Mr. Perfect. Everyone loves you and you’re hot and you’ve got the brilliant mind. You can’t do anything wrong.”
“Everyone doesn’t love me,” he replied with a leveled tone, “if everyone loved me, I’d be with the girl of my dreams right now. But I’m not, so… not everyone.”
“Can’t fucking imagine that,” Y/N muttered, wiping under her eyes. “You probably just communicate badly and she doesn’t know you love her.”
“Same with you.”
Y/N’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest.
“He’s way out of my league.”
“Who is this guy anyway? You’re gonna hype him up to me and not even let me know who it is?”
“He’s, uh…” Y/N walked further away from him and sat down at the edge of the bed, covering her face with her hands, “he’s from uni. Tall, dark brown hair, green eyes, sometimes glasses. He’s really nice but dates girls who are the complete opposite of me—you know, really model type girls. And I just… whenever I look in the mirror, I’m reminded of just how unattractive I am compared to them— and don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with me but they’re just better. I can’t keep up with it. And god, I feel so pathetic talking about myself like this but he’s just… he‘s so perfect and I love him and I don’t want to lose him. He makes me doubt myself sometimes, you know?“
At the latest he must’ve known now. Y/N could hear his brain professing that information, double and triple checking all possibilities until it dawned on him that she was talking about him.
He cleared his throat, stepping closer. “So he’s… where do you know him from again?”
A short pause before committing to the method, “we met at the fresher’s party three years ago.”
“And you see each other a lot, I assume.”
Y/N was still not looking at him, head buried in her hands.
“We… yeah. We hang out every day. He’s mad at me right now though.”
“So you… you love me.”
She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. She’d given up, left it all to fate; if he would turn her away and never talk to her again or ask to continue being friends. It all became obsolete.
“I’m sorry,” she muffled into the palms of her hands.
“D’you wanna hear about the girl I’m in love with? Have been in love with for a year now?” Y/N wanted to shake her head, but she didn’t, so he continued. “She’s from uni too, spends about three nights a week at my flat even though hers is bigger. She can be really distant, but when she gives you attention it’s like the whole world healed. She’s so sweet and considerate and brings me little gifts sometimes and even though she’s damn near perfect, she gets really insecure about things, especially when it comes to her looks and stupid dicks.” Y/N had started looking up at his words, spotting Harry closer to her but not sharing any of her own emotions. He was taking the piss, wasn‘t he? “Locks herself away in her room until she feels ready to leave the flat. She’s selfless, gives me other girls’ numbers even though she’s in love with me— even makes me go on dates even though I’m sure it hurts her feelings whenever I do.”
“You love me?” she sniffled, “I’m not joking about this.”
“I love you, Y/N. I do. S’why I got so mad last week, wanted you to realize that I’m more than some shallow asshole. Didn’t know you felt the same, though.”
“How could you not? I literally get so weird around you these days.”
“Thought it was just stress or something,” he cupped her cheek, thumbing away some tears, “I’m sorry you cried about me, should’ve just said it like a normal person. Just didn’t want to ruin us.”
“Me neither.”
“I’m going to kiss you, okay?”
This kiss was a thousand times better than the last one. Y/N felt giddy as his lips ghosted over hers, as he pulled her up from her seat and sat back down to have her climb over his lap. She breathed into his mouth, ground against his crotch like she was a horny 16 year old girl being touched for the first time. There was no heavy feeling weighing down on her chest, she could just be free of concerns.
After a few minutes of making out, Y/N laughed. She damn near cackled into his mouth and when he questioned her with a confused stare and a cute laugh of his own, she shook her head.
“Remind me to thank Kacy later.”
disclaimer: this is NOT meant to offend anyone based on their looks— it‘s just a depiction of a girl feeling insecure because she thinks the guy she loves doesn’t see her the way she wants him to. The description i used of his ‘type’ and the inevitable perception of what Y/N looks like in this story was completely random and is completely up to you. I hope it doesn’t come across as anything other than that!
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Note
hello! I was wondering if you could write a Mattheo x sweet! Slytherin reader where the other Slytherins are picking on her because they don't believe she's a Slytherin. And maybe Mattheo saves her and tells her that he likes her.
Mattheo's Girl
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Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x Sweet!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, minor bullying, and my shitty writing.
A/n: Sorry for the really long wait. School year started three weeks ago and things have been hectic. I'll try to update and write as much as I can but if I don't update in a long time please don't think I'm ignoring your requests! I'll get to them as soon as I can.
-
Y/n, was the sweetest girl in Hogwarts. Many found it hard to believe she was in Slytherin.
She'd never say no to anyone, she'd always offer to help, and there wasn't a single mean bone in her body.
She was walking to class, a little hop in her step as always, when she was that a few of her fellow Slytherins were making fun of Neville. Poor Neville, she thought.
They tripped him causing all of his books to scatter on the floor while they walked away laughing.
Y/n immediately went over and helped him pick his books up.
"Sorry about them," She sighed as she helped him pick his books up.
"I'm used to it," He said which made the girl's heart ache for the boy.
"You shouldn't be. Boys like them are the reason Slytherin have such a bad name," Y/n said as they both stood up. She handed him his books.
"Atleast Slytherin has you to show that not all Slytherins are evil," Neville said smiling at her kindly.
She returned it with a bright and kind smile before saying goodbye to Neville before he walked off.
The Slytherin boys that tripped Neville didn't go far and watched the whole exchange. Giving her nasty and disgusted looks.
When Neville left they walked up to her, "You shouldn't help a pathetic excuse of a wizard like him."
Y/n turned around and faced the towering boys, "You really shouldn't bully people, it's not nice," She replied.
The boys laughed, "You're also a fucking pathetic excuse of a witch. You don't belong in Slytherin."
"I'm sorry that you think that," Y/n said, "I have to get to class. Good day to you."
She turned on her heels and walked as fast as she could, completely ignoring the calls from the boys.
Mattheo glared at the boys who were making rude remarks about Y/n as she walked away. His jaw clenched, how could anyone ever want to heart an angel like her?
-
In the common room, Mattheo and the rest of the boys in his friend group sat comfortably on the sofas. Pansy and Y/n were at the table.
Pansy was struggling in Astronomy so Y/n offered to help her.
"This stuff doesn't make sense," Pansy said sighing as she placed her head in her hands, "I'm fucking over it."
"No need to swear," Y/n said, "You just have to simplify it for yourself. Try to remember the constellations with riddles that you make up for yourself. Example, my very easy method just speeds up nothing, My is Mercury, Very is Venus, Easy is Earth and then you should know the rest."
Pansy nodded and went quiet for a moment, thinking. "Oh! I got one. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. Major is Big so Great Bear and Minor is small so Little Bear."
Y/n smiled brightly, "That's one of the easiest ones but yes! You got it."
"Thank you, N/n. I don't know what I'd do without you," Pansy smiled as she leaned over and hugged Y/n.
"You're welcome, Pans. We can continue tomorrow night. I think we both need a rest," Y/n said. They packed Pansy's stuff and Pansy went to sit with the boys while Y/n took the books over to the bookshelves that were in the common room.
The boys from earlier came up behind her, "Studying hard to make up for you being a pathetic Slytherin?" One said.
"You can't cancel out the fact that you're pathetic by getting good grades you know," The other one said.
"Trying to get good grades is not an excuse to 'make up' or as you boys say to 'cancel out' anything. I'm simply determined to succeed in life. If you boys are struggling with anything. I could always tutor you," She said and they burst out laughing.
Their laughter caught his eye. His eyes immediately darkened and his demeanor changed.
"Oh I don't like that look," Enzo said as he saw the look on Mattheo's face.
Enzo turned and saw Y/n with the boys, "Oh, I see."
"They've been bothering her. Calling her names behind her back and telling her she's pathetic when she helped Neville the other day," Pansy said, "She told me about it and said it doesn't bother her, but I can hear her cry at night."
"This has to stop," Theo said.
"It will," Mattheo said as he stood up and walked over to them.
"You don't deserve to be in Slytherin you good for nothing little bi-" The one started before he was grabbed by the collar and slammed against the wall.
"You say one more thing to her, or come near her ever again, I will fuck you up," Mattheo spat in his face.
"Mattheo, stop," Y/n said trying to pull him off. Tears were threatening to fall. Things were getting too overwhelming.
"Oh yeah? Is that it?" The boy mocked, "You're not gonna kill me? Not a daddy's boy after all."
Mattheo's fist came flying into the boy's jaw. Soon enough the other boy's joined in, resulting in Theo, Enzo, Blaise and Draco to join in.
The tears ran down Y/n's cheeks as she fled the scene. Pansy trying to follow her but she lost her.
-
Y/n walked back to the common room later that night. She spent her time in the Room of Requirement, crying and trying to calm herself down.
It worked, but one tiny thing might set her off. Like the fact that Mattheo has been waiting for her the whole night long in the common room.
She bit her tongue, trying not to cry, "Where have you been?" Mattheo asked as soon as he saw her. He stood up and walked over to her, "Are you alright?"
Y/n looked at him and saw the bruises on his face along with the spots of blood.
"I'm fine, come on, let's go clean you up," She said as she pulled him to the nearest bathroom which is the bathroom in her and Pansy's shared dorm.
She made him sit on the edge of the bath as she took out a rag and put it under the running tap.
"Why did you run away?" Mattheo asked as she was cleaning his face.
"Everything got too much to handle," She replied, "You didn't have to do that. I can handle them."
"I can't," Mattheo said.
Y/n halted her movements and looked at him. He looked up and made eye contact, "What do you mean?"
"I can't handle them hurting you. I can't handle you crying yourself to sleep at night over them hurting you," He said.
She sighed, "Pansy?" Mattheo nodded.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.
"I didn't want to bother you," She said.
"You never bother me," He replied as he stood up. He looked down at her, their faces mere inches apart.
Mattheo leaned down and Y/n stood on her toes just before their lips met. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he placed his hands on her hips.
They pulled apart after a few moments, lips still brushing against each other.
"I will never let anyone hurt you again. As long as you're mine, even after you're not, which by the way will never happen, no one will ever hurt you," He said.
She smiled sweetly up at him, "Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?"
Mattheo smiled, "Yes, it is," He said.
"Well, then I accept," She said.
Mattheo's smile only widened before he placed his lips on hers again.
He'll keep his promise.
No one, will hurt her ever again.
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eccentricwritingbaby · 6 months
Text
baby, incoming!
carlos sainz x fem!singer!reader
summary - you and carlos have been married for over a year now and you’ve gone MIA. what could be the reason? new music or a new beginning? maybe both?
fc - emrata
masterlist
-
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Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, yourusername and 345,765 others
scuderiaferrari our boys are ready, tifosi! are you? #MexicoGP
username they are so attractive its crazy
username lets all pray ladies and gents that there will be a ferrari double podium
username now that is a reach but im right there with you
carlossainz55 ready as always!
username do we think yourusername will actually be there… she hasnt been to the last like 4 gp’s 
username idk but im hoping mothers absence is bc of a new album drop
username omggg pleaseee ive been needing her music
charles_leclerc <3
“and you’re sure you’ll be alright while i’m gone, mi amor?” carlos asks you for what feels like the hundredth time as he is packing up his suitcase. you sigh, walking out of your shared closet and placing another one of his clean ferrari polos into the suitcase and then heading to take a seat on the bed next to his luggage.
“quierdo, soy perfecto. i am pregnant, not dying. now please stop worrying about me while your parents as well as mine stay down the street. i am not alone, mi amor, and you are my first call if anything happens,” carlos listens carefully as he forgets about packing momentarily to come stand between your legs that were dangling off the bed, you reach out as he moves closer to hold both of his hands in yours in order for him to receive the message fully, “porfa, i will be fine just like i have been before,”
carlos gives a quick squeeze to your hands and a brief kiss on your forehead as he soaks in the words he was just told, “yo sé, cariño. i just hate missing everything and leaving you while you need me,” the guilty, solemn look on his face is enough for you to quickly stand, remove his hands from yours and wrap your arms tight around him.
he reciprocates the hug quickly with his hands finding your waist with a firm grip, “mi amor you've been there for me constantly and will be there for our baby once they come; besides me being stuck at home will finally give me an excuse to finish out my album so you have no reason to feel guilty,” you slowly loosen your grip in order to look into his warm, inviting eyes yet his hands never leave your waist.
he gives you a short kiss and then begins to speak up once more, “i just wish we could announce you’re pregnant already so that i could be with you, i hate being apart already and this just makes it harder,” he leans his forehead on yours as his hands disappear from your waist in order to lightly begin caressing your small yet prominent bump, “i know, my love, but my manager would kill me if she could not find a way to make one short announcement work in my albums favor, even if it means capitalizing on my baby,” you say with a short laugh.
carlos just smiles on with you by saying, “welcome to hollywood,” there is then a small kiss, a finished packing job, a sad goodbye and then a long plane ride for carlos as he arrives for the mexico grand prix. 
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carlossainz_fanpage looks like carlos is riding solo again, now for the mexican gp … trouble in paradise? new music? baby bump? who knows but i miss our mother
username it looks like hes still wearing his ring in the pictures of him arriving and all the ones ive seen
username oh thank god bc i cannot handle being a child of divorce rn
username me neither i rlly hope its the complete opposite and us children are gaining a brother or sister
username omgggg i hope she is pregnant she’d just be the cutest
username pleaseeee i need an album from her its been like two years now i cant take it
username RIGHT?! she got married and abandoned us :/
you had already received a text from carlos telling you that he landed and was heading to his hotel and then the paddock and he would call you later.
something about his words earlier had been sticking with you all day in the back of your head, ‘i hate being apart already and this just makes it harder’.
you and carlos had known each other before the fame with your parents being friends and the both of you have dated throughout it. you rarely were apart as you would go to almost all his races and travel with him and in turn during his breaks you would tour and he would tag right along. it had always worked beautifully since the flexibility of your job allowed you to work from ultimately anywhere, therefore why not spend it following and being with the love of your life? the distance from carlos was difficult, not even remotely from distrust or anything negative, just the simplicity of missing out.
you made a fast but firm decision and began to pack a bag. you gave a quick call to your mother in law informing her of your plan and letting her know you’d be by soon to drop off the dogs and then she began to insist she even drive you to the airport.
she has always loved you like a daughter for as long as you and carlos have been together claiming ‘she is just so good for him, no sé’.
then there is a quick flight, a large hoodie thrown on, and a pregnant y/n waiting right outside carlos’ hotel door.
your hand is brought up and with a sharp knock you stand still simply waiting. carlos takes a minute to open the door and as he does his eyes immediately light up, “y/n!” he makes haste to pull you into his room and into his arms immediately, “qué haces aquí?”
“ay! you’re asking me what i’m doing here instead of a long i love you my beautiful wife thank you for coming,” you mock and joke as he continues to rock you back and forth in his hold.
“lo siento, amor, gracias para coming all this way,” he leans back to look into your eyes while one of his hands finds its way to your bump,
“i was just confused because everyone is going to see, no?” he continues. you nod and begin to laugh while saying, “to be completely honest, carlos, i dont give a fuck. my fans will either buy my album or won't, it doesn't depend on our child. and i for sure am not going to miss out on seeing you race or rob you from any papi/baby time just for a stupid album,” he listens to you speak while his eyes begin to glisten over with happiness, “y/n, i’m so happy porfa can we post now so that i can take you out to a nice dinner and we can actually be people again,” he finishes off his sentence with a laugh.
you just simply smile, nod and give him his answer in a long-awaited passionate kiss. “gracias dios,” he whispers against your lips with a small sigh as you just let out a giggle.
you were a bit nervous before but now after being with carlos and seeing his relief you know you made the right decision. 
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yourusername and carlossainz55 baby sainz coming soon <3
comments on this post have been disabled.
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y/ncarlos_updates PREGGERS Y/N ARRIVING IN THE PADDOCK TODAY!
username holyyyyy shit she looks so good
username MOTHER IS AN ACTUAL MOTHER
username and our daddy is about to be an actual daddy!!
username they are going to be the most attractive parents ever
username stop im so happy for them this is so cute
username their entire childhood bff to lovers trope and now they’re having a baby like dream come true
username no fr its like watching them grow up before our eyes its so cute
username shes still got such good style even when pregnant i am green with envy rn
username that makes two of us
username u just know the gc is blowing up rn with which driver is going to be godfather
username we all know that if it is a driver itll be landonorris
landonorris damn right
username WHAT THE FU-
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literaila · 2 months
Note
how do u think satoru would react to reader in a depressive episode, especially what do u think the kids would do
obviously, they’ve all noticed.
the past couple of weeks have not been lived through ignorantly. and you have not been acting normal.
the differences are just that, at first. tiny inconsistencies in your otherwise normal personality, your routine.
and then it becomes more than just a… change.
it starts off simple; megumi’s brows furrowing when you ask him a question—something about his teacher, or what kind of drink he wants in his lunch that day—and then forget what you’ve just said as soon as he answers.
tsumiki watching, smiling along idly, as you rub your temples, sighing with every other sentence and squeezing your eyes tight like you’ll be able to wake up if you try hard enough.
and satoru noticing when you linger in your room a bit longer, as the days pass. staring when you freeze looking at the wall in the morning, zoning out so hard that he has to shake you back to life.
just an accumulation of things that might indicate that something is up.
but as these moments—moments when you’re lost in your head, trying to conceal your entire being from all of them, and pretending that it’s all normal—increase, the three of them learn a little something about observing.
and lying to themselves, of course.
eventually, though, when megumi or tsumiki inevitably say something—usually when you’re not in the room, off hiding somewhere—satoru just shrugs.
(he’s going to lie his way through this, just like everything else, thank you).
“it’s a bad day,” he’ll say, like the two children will comprehend that. like they don’t know what a bad day means. “she’s just tired.”
he could make a million excuses for you. oh, you didn’t get enough sleep last night. oh, you’ve only had one cup of coffee today. oh, the world is a truly terrible place and it’s only natural that it runs you down.
but he leaves them with the simplest of explanations, instead. maybe it’s his subtle way of denying that there’s anything wrong. that you could be upset about something. it doesn’t matter, anyway.
and tsumiki, ever so trusting of all of you, listens to him. if satoru says that you’re okay, then so does she. she’ll draw you a picture at school or try to help you make their lunches in the morning, but you’re fine. her questions end with an answer.
megumi, on the other hand, has never believed a word that satoru has said.
so when the older man swears that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, megumi only begins to worry harder.
he sees that look on your face when you walk in the room, and megumi knows. maybe it’s because he’s the most attuned to you, out of everyone, in particular. maybe it’s because he’s observant, or too worrisome for his age (as you tell him).
but he knows.
and if satoru says one thing, megumi’s going to believe the other.
(plus the two of you have always had a symbiotic relationship. you worry about him, and he worries about you. you laugh at him, and he gives a little lip twitch in return).
so satoru is not surprised when megumi brings it up for the fourth time in a week.
“you want me to what, exactly?”
“you can talk to them, can’t you?” he repeats, giving satoru a bland look. something like ‘are you serious.’ “they know you.”
satoru snorts. “i don’t think my bosses will appreciate me telling them what they can or can’t do.”
megumi gives him another look.
and yeah, so satoru already does that. they still don’t appreciate it.
he sighs, smiling at the boy. anything to mess with him, really. he ruffles megumi’s hair. “kid, she’s fine. i can’t just tell them to give her a couple of weeks off. there has to be a reason. and,” he adds, cheerfully. “i’ve been told it’s impolite to speak on someone’s behalf without their input.”
“you don’t care about being polite,” megumi argues, crossing his arms.
satoru groans internally. he’s really not going to let this go.
it’s not that satoru necessarily disagrees, but anything he does to help you is going to be refuted with a “butt out,” or “leave me alone, satoru.”
“true,” he says, grinning as he mocks the boys stance. “but i do care about being yelled at. particularly by your mother.”
“she needs a break.”
satoru rolls his eyes. “she’s getting one. the next couple of days are free, and she’s taking a nap right now.”
megumi frowns, even deeper than usual, and stares satoru down until he breaks.
“megumi,” the man groans, childishly, pushing the boy out of the room. “you don’t need to worry about her. chill out. just go back to reading about rocks or whatever you were doing.”
“it’s geology.”
satoru waves a hand, indifferent.
(secretly trying to come up with a way to get you to talk to him. he can’t ask because you’ll just ignore him. he can’t force it out of you because that would get the two of you nowhere.
what other options are left, really? you’ve put satoru in a terrible position).
“then can we get something, instead?” megumi asks, almost pleading. “flowers, or… whatever girls like.”
“y/n already has flowers. i bought them.”
“buy something else.”
“who taught you to be this stubborn?”
megumi only scowls at him.
satoru sighs, scratching his head. he knows he should do something—but he’s so used to sitting around and waiting for you to fix everything.
yes, he does recognize that it’s a terrible habit, and completely unfair. he also recognizes that he is the worst person in the world.
eventually he sighs. “okay. how about i order dinner?” he asks, almost wincing. it’s the most natural response—everything can be fixed with food, in satoru’s sophisticated opinion. “that’ll be easy. want to go ask mom what she wants?”
megumi practically runs to your room, leaving satoru with no time to remind him that you’re probably asleep, knocking just briefly—from what satoru can hear—before going in.
he tip-toes up to the door, also wanting to check in.
satoru is nothing if not nosy.
and he might as well let megumi do all of the dirty work.
“um, i don’t care,” he hears you saying. “whatever you guys want.”
“it’s for you.”
there’s a pause. then, “really, megs, i’m not very hungry, so…”
megumi is frowning down at you when satoru steps in.
“good nap?” he asks, smiling and sitting at the edge of your bed.
“you don’t need to get dinner. it’s my turn.”
he waves a hand. “i feel like takeout.”
you frown, about to argue when megumi speaks up, glancing between the two of you with an almost furious expression.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft but mad. like usual. satoru realizes that he’s been tricked into contributing to this.
“what?”
“why are you upset?”
“upset?” you repeat, eyes widening. “i’m not upset, megu—“
“are you sick?”
“no,” you say, immediately. “i’m just a little tired but it’s—“
“megumi,” satoru interrupts, trying to ignore the almost hurt look on your face—the glance you send his way, pleading and worried. he knows you hate this the most. “let’s let mom sleep some more, okay? tsumiki and you can decide what you want—“
“no.”
and neither of you can argue, or console the confused boy, before he’s climbing into your bed with a determined look on his face.
satoru tried to grab on to him, but megumi is having none of that, shaking him off before he can get a good grip. you’re looking at satoru anxiously, and this is the worst.
if satoru knows anything about you, it’s that you don’t want to be coddled. you don’t want to accept any help, even if it’s from your sweet, concerned son.
“megumi—“ you say, though, satoru notes, don’t make any attempts to move him when he struggles to get under the covers with you, or when he just sits by your side, barely touching you.
“i’m staying here.”
“really, bud, i’m okay. you don’t need to worry about me.”
“you’re sad.”
“i’m not.”
megumi looks at you, and satoru watches as you both share a glance. an internal conversation he’ll never get to be apart of.
for once in his life he’s not even jealous about it.
“it’s…” you say, but the two boys watch as your shoulders slack and your face drops. all at once, you lose color, life, and just sit there. “it’s fine.”
you say it to them, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself.
satoru’s face falls. he has no idea what to say, what to do to help you—he’s spent so much time denying that there was anything wrong, that he could do anything to help, and now he’s got no answers.
he feels like an idiot, sitting there. megumi shouldn’t be taking more initiative, he should be the one worrying about you, the one to go to—
megumi doesn’t say anything though. he only moves closer to you, not complaining when your arm wraps around his shoulder and you hold him to you.
like a life vest. a support in all of the vastness.
he doesn’t need to say ‘it’s okay,’ or ‘i’m here for you,’ for the words to ring out across the the air.
and, satoru realizes, quickly, he’s only doing what you do for them. what you do best.
climbing in beside them and making sure they know that they’re not alone. being that support, no matter how unwanted.
megumi’s learned from the best.
“sorry,” you mutter to him. “i know im gross.”
megumi shakes his head and settles into you even further. and the boy doesn’t cuddle—or, at least, without being forced—but your face softens as he leans against you, allowing this kind of intimacy.
and, maybe, satoru thinks, that’s the problem with all of you.
no one knows quite what to say. what to do to help someone with something that they can’t understand. neither he or megumi is sure how to dig you out of this hole.
none of you are very good with words.
but, at least, satoru knows how to be good at this.
he sets his glasses on your bedside table, and he moves you both over with ease, smiling when you both grunt at his intrusion.
and then you’re a tower of people, all leaning against one another. building blocks stacked on top of each other.
you relax into satoru almost instantly and he kisses the top of your head, feeling some sort of pride—just at the fact that you’ll let him be here, with you.
maybe that’s the thing with families, he thinks. no one needs to say anything for it to be okay.
and the uneasiness sits there with all of you. the past couple of weeks—the distancing and disassociating—linger there.
there’s nothing he can say to make everything all better. he could destroy the entire world right now, save for your house, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
but this is nice. a hug might not fix everything, but it won’t make anything worse
and after a minute or two, you say: “where’s tsumiki?”
and she peeks her head out from your door, smiling at all three of you. it takes her three seconds to jump on the bed, having been waiting there the whole time, the final piece to your messed up puzzle.
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atinyniki · 6 months
Text
flowers and confessions.
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group: stray kids !
pairing: nonidol!bangchan x f!reader
genre: fluff, pinch of angst
warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, reader and chan are both whipped for eachother, chan is referred to as channie, yeji of ITZY and changbin have a crush on eachother in this au for the sake of the plot (NOT SHIPPING), reader and yeji are roommates, love confessions, college au, reader and chan like cooking together.
authors note: this is something i was doing with a friend of mine at uni a year back but he had a gf </3 i never ended up confessing, so i decided to make this story a happy ending :) this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)
wc: 3733
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“and she’s more of a tulip girl than a rose girl. got that?”
“yes ma’am”, chan chuckles nervously.
“listen to me chan. you’re a good man, and i know if she gives you a chance she’ll give in eventually. just… please don’t fuck it up.”
chan nods his head slowly, processing what she’s said to him. “okay, i’ll try my best not to. thank you, yeji”
she nods, escorting chan out of her home. 
‘what could i do…?’, chan thinks to himself. the walk his dorm isn’t all that time consuming, but it feels even longer with the thoughts of you plaguing his mind. 
the envelopes on his desk seem to strike up an idea. you guys are best friends, he doesn’t want to ruin anything of course. so… why not confess anonymously?
“like… love letters? from a secret admirer?”, changbin asks incredulously.
“yeah… im sure she’ll tell me about the letters and then… i can ask if she likes them. you know?”
changbin sighs, staring at chans lovestruck face. “you do you. i don’t need any letters because… i’ve got these.”, changbin says as he points to his biceps and wiggles his eyebrows. “shut up bin”, chan chuckles.
he quickly goes back to his room, writing the first letter as an opening. he quickly writes the letter, placing it in an envelope and closing it with a red wax stamp.
the excitement was getting to him, he had a hard time sleeping that night.
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“seriously…?”, yeji stares at him, completely unamused.
“what… is it bad?”
“dude. i give you all of that info, and you use it for love letters?”
chan sheepishly nods at her. he knows it’s crazy, but he just doesn’t want to say anything face to face yet. you’re such great friends already, he’s afraid that he’ll ruin things.
“yeji, listen. this way, if i ask her about the letters and she says they’re weird or something, i won’t have to handle direct rejection. she would never know it was me.”
yeji seems to be understanding this more now. “ah… i see. go on then, make sure to make them super sappy. she loves that… for some reason.”, she rolls her eyes.
chan bows quickly, rushing to his next class. he can’t stand being late to this one. it’s his favorite class, not because of the subject, but because of you. seeing your face and being able to sit next to you brightens up his mondays every time. 
you watch as he makes his way up the stairs, a small smile on his face. “hey chan”
“hey”, he says with a smile.
he takes a seat next to you, the warmth emitting from his body. you love that you can sit next to your best friend first thing in the morning, especially in the winter. 
your professor walks in, and you both immediately focus on your work. mr. bae is no joke. chan makes small talk with you of course, as much as he possibly can without being scolded by your professor. he’s been caught too many times for him to be let off easy this time around. 
class ends not too long after, meaning the two of you have to part ways for now. it’s okay though, you always hang out outside of school anyways.
you make your way to your locker to put away some things before your next class. you don’t have much time, but luckily the class is in the same hall. 
you open the locker and put away your things, but something catches your eye. a beautiful pink tulip, placed nicely on top of a white envelope. there’s a cute heart on the wax seal, and you’re careful not to rip the envelope while you open it.
you begin to read the letter, a pink hue spreading across your cheeks as you process the words. your heart flutters in your chest, knowing that someone thinks about you in this way.
you don’t think your smile is all that special, but this person definitely thinks otherwise. you quickly put away the envelope, reminding yourself to dry press the tulip later. 
all of a sudden, you’re smacked out of your thoughts. you run towards the hall. you’re definitely going to be late.
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you arrive at chans with the ingredients, waiting for changbin to get back. you’re cooking his favorite today, so you’re very excited to see his reaction.
the tulip that your admirer gave you is pressed in between a stack of books, you plan on air drying and preserving it later. 
“who gave the flower?”, he asks with a smirk.
“oh… no one”, you reply shyly.
he continues to wiggle his eyebrows at you, causing you to shove him playfully. 
you and chan continue talking about some studies, when you hear changbin come in.
“chan?”
he stands in the doorway for a second, inhaling for a little while. he rushes to the kitchen when he smells it. “what is all this?”
“we decided to make your favorite tonight, help yourself. we’ll bring the danmuji out in a second”, you tell him.
he smiles so wide it almost reaches his eyes. “ooohhhh thank you thank you thank you! you did all this for meeeee?”, he says excitedly.
“it was all chans idea, thank him”, you chuckle.
changbin jerks his head towards chan, a cute pout on his face. “you did this for me channieee?”
chan stares at him for a little while before rolling his eyes. “no. why would i do it for you? shut up and eat now.”
you both knew it was all an act. as much as chan tried to pretend he hated changbin, you knew that it was just brotherly love.
“thanks chan”, he says with a smile.
chan can’t help but smile back.
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you open your locker the next week to a black tulip, your heart sinking to your stomach.
you pick up the note, reading it quickly before you go to class. 
“don’t worry, nothings wrong. i just gave you a black tulip this time since i always see you wearing black clothes. i assumed it’s your favorite color.”, it read.
the note went on with the usual, except this time it was about your nose. you giggled to yourself, the words lingering in your mind for far too long. your heart flutters in your chest thinking about who could possibly be writing these.
you run to class, afraid you’ll be late. you lost track of time reading the note, but you don’t regret it. not one bit.
you hope he’ll reveal himself soon.
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“mmhhh noo…”, you whine.
chan giggles a little, pulling you closer into his embrace for a second. “i really need to go to the bathroom y/n…”
“you’re warm though…”
chan takes your hand in yours, “i’ll only be a minute. besides, you have the blanket.”
you nod, watching him go and sitting in the spot on the couch where he previously sat. the seat was warm still, almost enough to pull you into a slumber.
chan quickly locks himself in the bathroom, his heart beating almost a thousand times a second. why did he do that? why did he hold your hand… oh gosh. his entire face is red, he tries to wash it away. it doesn’t work.
maybe it’s his fault for sitting so close to you in the first place, but he can’t deny that he enjoyed it. he wants to be in your embrace forever. 
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“gosh… this is beautiful.”, you whisper to yourself. the note contained a little poem about your eyes this time. you didn’t think they had much effect on anyone.
you pick up the red tulip, admiring it for a moment before placing it back in your locker inbetween some tissues and a stack of books. you enjoyed pressing them.
that way, if you were to ever find your secret admirer, you could keep the memories of your feelings.
wait… feelings? do you like this guy? you don’t even know what he looks like! maybe they’re just… shy?
you never thought for once that a man would be too shy to see someone like you of all people. you’re not really all that special in your opinion, but surely there was more to you that this guy sees.
maybe you could go searching for him…
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“you really like pressing those damn tulips.”
you chuckle nervously, “yeah… they’re really pretty”
chan is surprised you haven’t told him anything yet, but he makes sure not to push you. he doesn’t want to let anything slip.
chan sits back down on your bed, admiring you for a bit while you talk about some things that happen at school.
“and she’s been- she… why are you looking at me like that?”, you ask. the look on his face has you tripping on your words, oddly flustered.
“huh? o-oh… um.”, he stutters, afraid he’s made things awkward. he tries to think of an excuse quickly, “you still have a little sauce on your cheek.”
embarrassed, you wipe a bit at your cheek, trying to wipe the sauce that wasn’t even there in the first place. suddenly, chan speaks up. “i’ll get it.”
he scoots incredibly close to you, stroking your cheek and “wiping away the sauce”. your eyes widen, cheeks turning a bright red.
chan seems to notice, smirking at you again and wiggling his eyebrows. you scoff playfully, flicking his forehead causing him to recoil.
“heyyy! what was that for”, he says with a fake pout. you can only giggle at his antics, running a thumb over his forehead to ease the pain. 
you continued going on about the girl in your class, ignoring the way chans close proximity made you feel.
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“what the hell?”
the note came with a baby blue tulip this time, writing about how your voice makes his day. ‘so he knows me…’, you think to yourself.
maybe you two share a class or two. either way, you’re determined to find out. this time, you write a note in your locker for him to read the next week. 
it’s a simple note, not as cute as his are. the only thing it asks is if you two share a class.
you hope he notices it next time, it’d be a shame if he didn’t. you place the note in your locker and quickly run back to class.
now that you think of it, he must have a class in the same hall as you since he always gets to your locker in the morning. maybe he’s in your first class. 
wait. why are you so eager to know? gosh, how are you falling for someone when you don’t even know who they are? 
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“oh come onnn, please?”
“jeez, why do you wanna know so bad?”
“becauseee… you seem so happy when you get these flowers. do you finally have a boyfriend?”
you shoot him a look, shutting him up immediately. “what do you mean, “finally”? i’ve had many boyfriends before”, you say while shaking your head. 
chan laughs beside you, causing you to laugh a little bit too. “well, the truth is, i don’t know who these flowers are coming from. someone puts them in my locker every monday with a love letter…”
chan looks at you, wide eyed. he fakes his surprise, “wait… you have a secret admirer?!”, he giggles.
“yeah… i guess i do”, you smile.
you turn your head to look at him again, his boba eyes staring right at yours. you can’t help but think back to what the note about your eyes said. does chan see them the same way? do you… want him to see them the same way?
chan pulls you into an embrace when he sees the look in your eye. “well, hopefully he reveals himself soon”
your face is painted with a light blush again. how could you possibly be falling for two men at once?
why do feelings have to be so confusing…?
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the weeks go by, different tulips and notes arriving in your locker every week. you’ve confirmed that you’re both in first period together, but that seems like the only clue you’re getting for a while.
each day, you press the flowers and place them in your special frame next to the decorative box, in which you place the letters.
your frame is just a blob of colors now, the ivory, purple, and crimson tulips popping out the most.
you’ve been meeting with chan a lot more recently for movie nights. you’ll have to admit, they’re really fun, but you’re finding it difficult to evaluate your feelings.
you’ve started to develop stronger feelings for chan, as well as your admirer. your heart is torn between the two. you don’t know who to choose. you dont even know if you can begin to choose.
how could you break their hearts?
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you wake up early in the morning, surprised because you normally can’t seem to bring yourself to open your eyes. you nuzzle closer into the warm pillow, wondering why it feels so much better than usual.
“sleep well?”, chans voice revertibrates through your entire being. you pull your hands back, scooting away from him and looking up.
“wait… i- what the hell?”
“hey it’s not my fault! you were incredibly drunk, and you insisted i stay.”
“oh…”
“oh channie… please stay! i can’t sleep without you… you’re so warm”, he mocks you and laughs.
your eyes go wide, a hand clamped over your mouth in shock.
“i actually said that…?”, you hide your face in your hands. 
“no biggie”, he smiles.
you bury your face in your palms, embarrassed. you’re glad you didn’t let anything else slip out though. chan pulls you back into his embrace, drawing patterns on your back and laughing a little. 
“hey, seriously. it’s fine, i don’t mind keeping you company you know. your channie will always be here”, he giggles.
“shut. up.”, you reply, your voice muffled in his chest. 
you hear the door open, quickly jerking your head towards it. “you lovebirds done? i brought breakfast”, yeji smiles.
“yejiii” you whine, hiding your face again. chan gets out of bed, laughing again as he gets ready for the day.
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“fuck…”, you mutter under your breath. it’ll be much easier to confess to chan right? you can confront him face to face, but with your admirer it’d be more difficult.
what if they’re just joking around? if you confess, the tulips will stop. you’ll have no more notes to keep in your box. but then again, if you do confess, there’s a high chance of the both of you ending up together.
there’s no way chan likes you, but you really need to get it off your chest. you can’t pursue your admirer while still having feelings for chan, that’s not fair to him.
if chan is so excited about this admirer, there’s no way he could actually like you… right? fuck it.
you run over to chans dorm, changbin opens the door for you. “y/n? chans not home right now, sorry.”
“yeah i know… i was um- i was meaning to talk to you actually.”
“oh! come in”, he says with a smile.
you explain the whole thing in depth to changbin, even your feelings for the two boys. changbin laughs to himself, ‘what has he gotten himself into?’, he thinks.
changbin doesn’t even seem to notice that tears are leaving your eyes. he quickly grabs your hand, running his thumb over it. “hey, i’m sure nothing bad will happen if you confess to chan. he loves you too much to let you go just because of a crush.”
“no but that’s the thing changbin! it’s not just a crush- i love him. i love the both of them. and i don’t know who to choose, or how to tell them, because it’s not fair to date one without telling the other and…”, you trail off.
“just tell chan you love him. and if you really want to win him over, tell him while you’re cooking or baking together or something.”
“what? why?”
“just do it, trust me.”
you nod, continuing to plan out your confession with changbin. you figure out how you’re going to confess, you hope chan will enjoy having his favorite dish.
“i should tell yeji about this too, she’ll probably have some advice.”
changbin goes silent, thinking about what else you could do. you notice the way his face goes red at the mention of your roommate.
hopefully he’ll confess too.
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“i brought everything… what’s the occasion though?”
“you’ll see”, you say with a smile. 
you both make your way to the kitchen, smiling along the way. of course your nervous, but it’s a lot easier when you have his reassuring smile.
it seems to be something that always puts you at ease, it’s one of the reasons you love him so much. you feel so safe with him. 
you guys work on dinner, smiling and giggling the entire time. “that damn coral tulip really put you in a good mood hm?”
you chuckle a little, “hm, yeah”, you beam at him. hold on… did you tell him about the coral tulip? “wait… how do you know about the tulip”
“huh?”, chan seems to be confused, but then his eyes go wide. he realizes his mistake immediately, but he doesn’t know what to do.
“chan… i never told you anything about the tulip. how did you know what color it was?”
he opens his mouth to say something, but it won’t come out. “i…”, the lump in his throat rises more, cutting off his air flow. he’s seconds away from hyperventilating.
“channie, was it you the entire time?”
tears well up in his eyes, he didn’t want it to happen like this. he planned a whole reveal for you, and now it was all ruined.
you quickly turn off the stove, walking over to chan. you’re being careful not to scare him away, a smile on your face. “it’s you isn’t it?”
he nods softly, some tears escaping his eyes. “i’m sorry…”
you cup his cheek with your hand, wiping away the tears on his cheek. “can i…?”
he nods, and you crash your lips into his. “i love you channie”, you say breathlessly. he grabs your waist, picking you up and setting you down on the island. he pulls away from the kiss and looks you in the eyes. 
“i love you so much y/n. i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you i was just… scared of ruining our friendship.”
“chan… i um. i didn’t- i don’t want you to think i kissed you just because of the letters. i was planning on confessing to you today but that just made it so much better”
chans eyes twinkled in the light, stunned by the sincerity in your voice. “y/n… i truly do love you a lot. i- thank you.”
you give him a quick peck on the nose, wiping away his tears again.
“so, you were making all this so you could um… confess?”
you nod shyly, averting his gaze. he giggles at how adorable you look right now, sitting on the kitchen island.
“what’s so funny chan?”
he picks you up once again, this time pinning you against the wall. your heart flutters again in your chest, the butterflies erupting in your stomach.
“no. not chan… i’m your channie”, he smiles at you, leaning in for another kiss. you enjoy the moment with him, but all of a sudden you stop.
“chan! we still have to make the food”
he looks at you, sets you down on the floor and then turns away from you. you’re a little confused by the sudden change in attitude, but then it hits you. 
“sorry dork, i meant channie”
he smiles at you again, helping you fix dinner.
“wow… first dinner with my girlfriend and we even cooked it together.”, your eyes widened. you were going to have to get used to chan calling you his girlfriend.
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“wake the fuck up you two!”, yeji yells from her room.
you’re in the same position as last time, you face nuzzled into chans chest and your arms are wrapped around him. he’s holding you this time, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and stroking his fingers through your hair. 
suddenly, yeji barges in to see you two practically looking like a pretzel. “oh my gosh…”
chan continues running his fingers through your hair, not paying attention to yeji at all. “wait… really?!”, yeji says excitedly.
it seems like shes finally gotten the hint, and you reach up to give chan a little peck. you smile at yeji, watching her visibly gag. “you know, you couldn’t just said ‘oh yeah we’re dating now!’. you didn’t have to kiss him. gross…”
chan laughs a little, the sound being music to your ears. “hey, it’s not my fault”
“yeah yeah whatever. get ready, we’re going out with changbin.”
you turn your head towards yeji again. “changbin? why so?”
chan lifts his head from the pillow. “are you finally dating now?”, he asks excitedly.
“ew no… gross”, yeji says while rushing out the room, not wanting you to see the crimson red covering her face.
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you open your locker, instantly met with a much bigger envelope. you quickly open it to read it, smiling to yourself as you do. you’re so glad that chan did all this.
you searched your locker again, looking at the floor to see if the tulip fell, but you couldn’t find one. you pouted a little, the tulips seem to be something you cherish a lot. just then, you hear chans voice behind you.
in his hand is a bouquet, all different assortments of tulips. he doesn’t say anything, he just gives you a kiss and heads off to his next class. 
you stare at him as he leaves, completely in awe. tears almost spring to your eyes, but you fight them off. quickly placing your bouquet in your locker, you run to your next class.
you make it there just on time, but before taking out your notebook, you grab your phone.
y/n: thank you channie :) channie <3: i hope you liked them :) y/n: of course i did! y/n: i love you channie <3 channie <3: i loved you first <3
<3
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435 notes · View notes
futureman · 10 months
Note
hi ur writing is so so good, makes me go insane ur amazing
okay so could you do a normally dom!joel but one day he has the day off and reader doesn’t, so all he does ALL day is think about her. When she gets home he’s worked himself into a frenzy, desperate asf. So instead of his usual dominant self he’s desperate!joel whining and whimpering for her to touch him, make him cum, moaning in her ear and grinding against her.. all of that fun stuff 🤭
thank u for ur time, pls excuse the depravity 🙏🏾
hi nonie! loooved this request so much. i got a similar one from @luvrxbunny, so i combined them a bit and made it a lil longer. hope you both enjoy!
omg ur so amazing ily pls pls pls pls pls pls pls can i have dom!joel with a praise kink 🙏🏾 he doesn’t even really realize it but reader does and she’s just pummels him with praise while he’s fucking her and he does feral, moaning and grunting in her ear i’m sorry im so feral
way too damn needy
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, language, smut, dom-turned-sub!joel, gentle-dom!reader, praise kink, masturbation, phone sex, blowjobs, face fucking, lil fluff
word count: 2.8k
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What a way to spend his only day off in weeks. The weather’s perfect for playing his guitar on the porch, and he thought he’d even squeeze in a swim before getting started on building that new bedside table for Sarah. He had plans. 
But instead, Joel’s stalking around his living room like a caged animal in an endless loop of waiting, waiting, waiting.
It’s like he’s been transported back to his teenage years when every guy in a relationship followed his girl around like a puppy, always at her beck and call. Wondering what she was doing, if she was thinking about him. Except he wasn’t even that guy in high school. Not then, and definitely not now.
There’s really no logical reason for him to be this wound up, totally unable to do a single thing on his to-do list just because you’re not home. Leave it to your company to be the only one in the entire country that doesn’t give their employees Labor Day off.
That’s probably a gross exaggeration, but what does he care? He’s been tragically affected by this clearly personal transgression, and has to wait…two more hours? Seriously? You normally leave around 5:30, which means you’re home by six, and he’s not sure he can wait that long.
The sad fact of it all is that he’s already wasted almost the entire day not enjoying all of those relaxing activities he’d planned for. What’s even sadder is that he’s been half-hard for most of it, intermittently pausing his ridiculous pacing to grind the heel of his hand into his crotch for relief. Petulantly waiting for you to get home and take care of it for him.
Well, another hour’s gone by, it’s 5 pm, and he’s officially past his limit. At this point, he's probably better off handling it himself, at least until you're finally back. Then, you’re all his. 
He’ll fill you up with every last bit of pent-up frustration he’s felt since you left the house this morning, making you regret not just calling in sick. You might have to tomorrow after he’s done with you.
Joel drops onto the couch, laying to face the door so he’s the first thing you see when you walk in. Pulling his boxers and jeans down just enough to get his cock out, he wraps his hand around himself, immediately hissing out a breath through his teeth. Shit, he’s been hard for hours and just that slight touch already has him leaking precum all over his fingers. 
For a moment, he worries that maybe he’s a little too worked up, that he’ll cum way before he gets the chance to make you sorry for making him feel so desperate. So needy. And that makes him mad.
It should be your fingers covered in precum, your plush lips sucking him down to the hilt, and your pretty pussy aching with the need to have him inside you. Funny how you’re always so good for him, except today when he needs you the most.
His hand starts to move languidly before he can stop it, the slide wet and tight, just like he knows you’ll be. But it’s not you, and that makes him even angrier. If he can’t feel you the way he needs to, then maybe your voice will hold him over until he can. 
The phone only rings twice before you pick up.
“Baby, I’m busy right now. What’s up?” you answer, slightly out of breath. 
It’s cruel, but Joel honestly doesn’t give a shit if you’re busy. Not when his mind is this clouded with thoughts of you on your back, breathing much heavier than you are right now. But he manages to keep that to himself.
“You comin’ home soon?” he asks gruffly, still tugging on his cock, head thrown back on the armrest of the couch.
“Uhh, probably leaving in about…a half hour?” Your voice lilts like you had to double-check the time. “Everything okay?”
“Any chance you can leave now?” he tries again, side-stepping your question. 
The desperation in his voice is obvious, and it makes him feel even more pathetic. He wonders if you can hear it. Part of him hopes you can.
“Why, did something happen? Is Sarah okay?” you ask, clearly concerned. 
“S’fine, everythin’s fine. Just miss ya, s’all," he lies shakily.
Of course, he misses you, but nothing here is fine. His angrily weeping cock is a testament to that. He's all but fucking into his own fist now, hips bucking off the couch as he pants into the phone.
“Joel, what—are you touching yourself? Jesus,” you mumble, and he can hear your heels clacking against the floor like you’re walking somewhere. Quickly.
“Been thinkin’ about ya all damn day. Dunno why you went into work on a fuckin’ holiday,” he grunts. “Should’a been here with me, on your back, beggin’ for my cock like a good girl.” 
You inhale sharply and, though muted through the phone, he hears it loud and clear, dribbling more precum down his shaft. Unfamiliar voices start to filter through the speaker, so he’s guessing you can’t say much. 
And that’s okay. He has no problem filling the silence. Joel loves talking to you while he’s getting off.
“Had me feelin’ needy today, babygirl. Y’know I don’t like that,” he says dangerously. Your heels hit the ground faster, and he subconsciously matches his strokes to your pace. “Thought I was losin’ my mind for a while there. Was just about ready to let you do whatever you wanted to me when you got home, s’long as I got to fuck that tight pussy of yours.”
A door slams in the background, then all he can hear is you panting heavily in his ear. But when you finally speak again, your voice sounds different. Less like his good girl, and more like someone who knows they hold all the power.
“Oh, poor baby,” you coo, catching him off guard. “Did I leave you alone too long?”
He can tell you’re mocking him but, for some reason, his resolve starts to slip away more and more with every violent throb of his cock. Maybe it’s desperation. Or maybe he just likes it. 
“I’m so sorry,” you continue, murmuring sweetly in his ear. “I can make it all better…but only if you wait a little longer. Can you do that for me? Be my good boy.”
He bites back a groan, gripping the base of his cock hard to keep from cumming then and there. That's...new. And sexy as hell. He's still frenzied to the point of no return, but you also might've rewired something in his brain because he suddenly realizes he does want to be your good boy. Badly.
Fuck, he hopes you get home soon.
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That last half hour of work was torture. You spent the entirety of it, and the car ride afterward, marinating in your soaked underwear, anticipating everything Joel has in store for you when you get home.
You're not sure what came over you on the phone, but it sounded like he enjoyed it. A lot. It’s a dynamic you’d never thought to try in your relationship, not with Joel’s domineering personality. The fact that he went along with it at all must mean he’s going through it, and that’s something you’re a little too excited to see.
The house is quiet when you walk in, save for the sound of your keys dropping into the bowl by the door. You turn to hang your bag on a nearby coat rack, and that's when you see him.
Joel, still lying on the couch exactly where you assume you left him after your call, with his hand squeezed tight around the base of his cock. He looks like a goddamn mess—sweating, hard as a rock, and leaking all over himself. His eyes are a little wild, more so than you've ever seen them. Christ, poor baby. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much.
“Aw, sweet boy. Is all this for me?" you smile softly. He sucks in a breath, visibly twitching in his hand, and your smile widens. “Sit up, I can’t play with you like this.”
He complies immediately, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You love how well he’s listening, even though he almost looks like he's in pain after being in this state for so long. For that, you think he deserves a reward.
So, you give him one—the one he’s been waiting for all day. You undress for him, maintaining eye contact as you slip off your stuffy business attire, finally ridding yourself of your oppressively sticky underwear. 
Dropping to your knees between his legs, you gaze up at him affectionately, mouth inches away from his drooling cock. 
"Tell me what you want," you lean in, pressing your lips against the smooth, velvety skin. "Still wanna fuck me? Get me on my back, begging for it?"
Your tongue darts out to taste him, and you moan, licking a wide stripe up to wrap your lips around the tip. He's salty and heady, and so fucking delicious, but he still hasn't answered you. Instead, his fingers thread through your hair, guiding you down halfway and back up, shallowly fucking your mouth.
"I—fuck, please...," he's struggling with his words, whimpering around each syllable. "—baby, I waited...been good, did what ya said."
You nod your head understandingly, or at least try to as you continue to let him thrust into the inside of your cheek. His eyes are hyperfocused on the way your skin bulges around him, each stroke sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down his tightening balls.
"Christ, you feel good. Worth waitin' for, so fuckin' worth it," he rasps, his fingers tensing in your hair. "Need ya to—," he repositions your head so he can thrust further, deeper until he's nudging the back of your throat, "—ngh, make me cum. Suck harder, baby, please."
Soft, hiccuped moans escape his parted lips, increasing in volume when you start to drool around him, down your chin and onto your breasts. You can tell he's about to burst, feeling his skin growing taut against your tongue.
"M'gonna—haah, gonna...," desperation clouds his eyes, still dictating his every thought and move. 
But you don't let him because that's not what he said he wanted earlier. He's allowed to buck into you a few more times before you pull off with a loud pop, and the needy, frustrated whine he lets out almost makes you reconsider. Almost.
"I'm gonna make you cum, I promise, but not with my mouth," you tell him, voice tinged with disappointment, wrecked from the force of taking him like that. "You were doing so well for me. Come down here, keep being my good boy and I'll make you feel good."
Plopping down on the carpet, you spread your legs so he can see how wet you are for him. It's only gotten worse since earlier, slick coating your thighs, shiny and all the more inviting. You lay back, trailing your fingers up your belly to your breast to tweak a nipple, sighing as you reach out to him with your other hand.
Again, he obeys, his desire to empty down your throat all but forgotten. His shirt is quickly discarded, followed by everything below his waist, and then he's shifting onto the floor between your legs.
"There's my sweet boy," you coo, running your hands up his chest through a smattering of coarse, dark curls, and it rumbles under your palms as he mewls sweetly at your praise. 
He leans over you, hovering like he's waiting for permission to touch you, but he doesn't need it. The only thing you're trying to do is guide him, not control him. You want to make sure he gets exactly what he was so patient for. 
"Wanna feel you, babygirl. Let me—," he amends what he was about to demand, "...can I touch you?"
You bite your lip nodding as you smile up at him, and he wastes no time dropping down to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sucking wetly as he presses his body flush against yours. You writhe underneath him, just as pent up as he is by now, the realization triggered by how incredible his naked body feels on top of you. 
"Fuckin' hell, you're soft," he moans into your ear, propped up on his forearms. His cock brushes against your inner thigh, and his moan turns guttural, raw like it clawed its way out. "Mmph, I can't—"
He lurches up to crash his lips into yours, kissing you sloppily, hungrily, as his hips finally dip to drag against where you're soaked and aching. But not for nearly as long as he's been, and right now, he comes first. You need him to know he can have you. That he doesn't have to wait anymore.
"Don't...don't fight it. You've been perfect, you deserve it," you gasp out, and his hips jerk, your words forcing a low keen past his lips and into your mouth. "Take, baby. Take what you need."
Joel doesn't take, he seizes, laying claim to every part of you. Like he's afraid he won't get another chance if he doesn't take full advantage of what you've given him right now.
He faintly reminds you of a puppy lacking object permanence, believing the next time you leave, he'll be stuck waiting for you to come back to him forever. God, you're not even sure how you fucked him up so badly, but it's clear by the way he's handling you that he won't let you go again.
He moves quickly. One moment, he's leaning back on his heels, digging his fingers into your waist to yank you up onto his thighs, and the next, he's fucking into you as hard and fast as a bullet train. His cock somehow feels thicker, heavier than it ever has when he breaches your cunt, and the stretch has you clawing at the carpet beneath you.
"Missed you all day, wanted you all goddamn day," he growls, plowing into you forcefully enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "Fuck, babygirl, you got no idea what I've been through."
Christ, that feels—it feels...Christ. He's hitting something. You have no idea what, but it feels ungodly, like if he keeps going just like that, you'll cum without his fingers on you at all. It's happened before with Joel, but it's rare—and it's only when he's deep, lighting up all of your nerve endings at once. Fuck, he's being so good today.
"S'okay, you're okay," you gasp, clenching down around him when he suddenly pounds into the spot dead on. "I...I'm here now. Just keep going there, right there."
He nods frantically, gritting his teeth as you continue to tighten around him.
"Good boy," you mumble deliriously, your back arching completely off the ground as your orgasm rocks you. 
"Shit, you—'m not touchin'...fuck, baby, you cummin'?" 
It hits him all at once, what's happening, and then he's cumming, too. He's loud through his entire release, alternating between drawn-out moans and hiccuped whimpers as he fills you up with a whole day's worth of pent-up frustration.
Thrusting until your aftershocks have subsided, he grinds in deep one last time, letting you milk him completely dry before he pulls out. You're boneless underneath him, your eyes glazed over while his are finally clear for the first time in almost ten hours. 
He lowers your body onto the floor and crawls over next you, pulling your body against his. His embrace is warm and pleasant, and enough to pull you out of your post-orgasm stupor. Wriggling in his arms to get more comfortable, you tilt your head back from where he'd tucked it under his chin to grin up at him.
"So you missed me, huh?"
He rolls his eyes, back to his usual, not-totally-depraved self, but you already know the answer. He just spent the last hour showing you exactly how much.
"Thought I already made that clear," he confirms gruffly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Next time, could ya maybe just use your vacation days? Please?"
"Sure," you laugh, nuzzling into his neck. "I'll save them up just for you." 
You reach up to scratch your fingernails across his beard, your other hand petting the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A soft noise rumbles low in his chest, but he tries to play it off by clearing his throat. Playfully raising an eyebrow, you continue your ministrations and it happens again.
"Baby, quit, 'm not a dog," he deadpans, even as he leans into your touch, his body betraying him.
"You sure about that? Because you sure were needy like one today."
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bellaireland1981 · 19 days
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Babymoon
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Summary: You and your husband take a quick beach vacation before becoming a family of three.
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female! Reader
Warnings: Illusions to smut, heavy making out, pregnancy, fluff, Jake being adorable. UNDER 18 DNI
Word Count: 2231 (look at me keeping it quick!)
A/N: Written for @thedroneranger 's Pick Your Poison writing challenge. Inspiration for the fic was Sex on the Beach As always, I do not own the Top Gun Maverick characters but all OCs and Reader insert concepts are my own and storylines are mine. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied, reposted to other sites, used in AI generators and sold on any platforms.
Masterlist
“Angel, are you sure you’re not overdoing it?” Jake asked as the two of you made your way down to the beach from your hotel room. “We can relax in the room for a bit or sit by the pool if that’s better…”
At 7 months pregnant, you were getting close to the point of no travel and Jake had surprised you with a last minute “babymoon” down to Mexico. He wanted the two of you to have one last opportunity to be spontaneous and fly off for a romantic getaway before you become parents. 
“Jake, I love you, Stud…” You said, looking up at your husband, a coy smile on your face, “I promise I’m not overdoing it. I just really want some time on the beach with my sexy husband and baby daddy…maybe some sexy time on the beach with my husband.”
“You’re a menace, Angel.” He chuckled, pausing your walk to the beach to steal a quick kiss. “But anything for my sexy pregnant wife” kissing you again, “Beautiful mother of our daughter.”
“Our daughter is going to have her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger.” You smirked, as you continued toward the beach. 
“Just like her Momma.” He replied, chuckling. “Wouldn’t want it any other way, Angel.” 
He led you to a cabana area he’d rented for you for the day. There were beach loungers set up in front, where you could lay in the sun and soak up the warm rays, but there were also loungers in the cabana to allow you to lay down out of the sun and rest without having to leave the beach. It came complete with full food and drink service from the resort. Your amazing and perfect husband had thought of everything. 
“Before you get all comfortable out there, darlin’ you need sunscreen.” Jake reminded you. 
“Are you worried about me burning…or do you just want a reason to rub your hands all over me in public without the threat of getting arrested?” You teased him. 
“A little of both.” He admitted with a smirk, “I’ll always take any excuse to get my hands on my wife, Angel, you know that… it’s why you’re currently pregnant.”
“Does this mean I’ll be spending a lot of time pregnant over the next five to ten years of our marriage?” You laughed.
“I will happily give you as many babies as you want Angel.” He said, pulling you close, one hand naturally finding its home on your swollen belly, the other behind your head, tilting your head back before capturing your lips in a tender kiss. 
“Let’s see how things go with our daughter first.” You suggested, “So far, she’s a handful just like her daddy.”
“The morning sickness finally eased up.” He reasoned, “And after several talks recently, she’s no longer using your bladder as a punching bag.”
“True.” You acknowledged, “Now she’s using my kidneys and rib cage for soccer practice and I swear she takes joy in giving me major heartburn.”
“I’ll have another talk with her.” He smiled, “But you’re not fooling me. I see you when you don’t think anyone is watching… or listening. You’re loving every moment, kidney shots and all.”
“I really am.” You sighed happily, rubbing your hand over your belly where your daughter was safely growing and developing. “I can’t even describe the feeling… knowing a part of you and a part of me…growing inside me. Getting to feel her move and being this close to her… knowing that once she’s born, I’ll never be this close to her again… I’ll have to share her, I’ll no longer be able to protect her from the world… It’s an incredible thing.”
“It’s pretty damn amazing from this side of things too, Angel.” He said gently, his hand joining yours on top of your belly, “Watching our little girl grow inside of you, knowing I helped put her there… seeing you literally grow a human, OUR human… protecting her, nourishing her, loving her… it about brings me to my knees. You’re already the most amazing momma in the world, Angel. Our little princess is so lucky she gets to have you as her momma. As for protecting her once she’s on the outside… I have zero doubts you’ll be fierce and badass at that. I’ve seen you in action protecting those you love. She’ll have us, and a squad full of uncles and aunts to keep her safe. Our little girl will be just fine.”
“You’re gonna make me cry.” You sniffled, tears threatening to spill over. “Not like it’s hard to do… it’s kinda low hanging fruit.”
“You said it, Angel.” He laughed, “But you’re adorable when you’re all emotional.” 
“I love you, Stud.” You said,  snuggling into your husband.
“I love you too, Angel.” He replied, holding you close. 
After a moment, once the emotions had calmed down you pulled back a bit, “Can you put sunscreen on me now?”
“Absolutely,” He agreed, grinning, “Let me grab the bottle. Sit down on the lounger and I’ll get you all sorted.”
The two of you spent time laying in the sun, you reading a steamy romance novel, Jake reading an updated manual for new equipment to his jet. 
“You know, My Love,” You teased him, “We’re on vacation, you shouldn’t be working.”
“I enjoy learning about my jet, Angel.” He defended himself, “Besides, wouldn’t you rather I know everything there is to know about it so I can be extra safe?”
“You already know that jet down to the last screw.” You laughed, “And I love that you’re thorough, Babe… it makes it a little easier to send you off on missions and deployments because you tackle those the same as your jet and you learn every detail given to you. I love that about you.”
“I will always do everything in my power and control to come home to you and our little girl.” He promised. 
“I know.” You smiled, “And I know that you have amazing squadmates who have your back.”
“They’re alright.” He laughed playfully. Truth was, you knew he loved all of the Daggers and would do anything for them. He’d already been best friends with Javy coming into the Uranium mission that had formed the Daggers, but afterwards he and Bradley had formed an unbreakable bond and a strong friendship. Bradley had even asked Jake to be his best man in his wedding the month before.  “Feel like getting in the water?”
“I could cool off.” You replied, “Going to need help getting up though.”
He set his manual down under his towel so it wouldn’t blow away and reached for your book so he could set it next to his before reaching out to lift you up. You swayed slightly into him, the change in position causing you to feel slightly lightheaded. 
“Easy does it, Angel.” He said, “Are you ok? Do you need to go inside to rest for a bit?”
“No, I’m ok.” You replied, “I just stood too fast. Let’s go into the water, then we can cuddle in the cabana for a bit.”
“Cuddle?” You asked, smirking.
“Behave.” He chuckled, playfully swatting your butt. 
You laughed, taking his hand and the two of you walked to the water. There were some waves but the surf wasn’t overly active. Jake still made sure to keep you close and his hands on you at all times while you were both in the water. You waded out until you were mostly past the break, the water to your chest, but barely above Jake’s belly. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in as close as possible with your very pregnant belly between you. 
You leaned up on your tiptoes, your arms around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him. You didn’t hesitate to swipe your tongue over the seam of his lips, seeking entrance into his mouth. His own tongue came out to meet yours, the kiss deepening. He let his hands wander down to your butt, rubbing over your bikini clad cheeks. 
“What are your thoughts on sex on the beach, Angel?” Jake asked, his head dipping down to kiss over your neck and shoulder. 
“Oh my God.. I MISS those amazing little cocktails.” You sighed, “Penny makes the BEST Sex on the Beaches.”
“Angel, I was talking about literal sex on the beach.” He groaned, still trailing kisses over your collarbone, tasting the salt from the ocean water. 
“Pretty sure THAT is how I ended up pregnant, Stud.” You teased him.
“The night after the bonfire?” He asked, lifting his head to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips, “Seriously?”
“The timing is perfect.” You shrugged, “Lord knows I DRANK enough of those sneaky little cocktails that night…”
“I remember.” He said, his voice going husky, dropping deeper, “You suggested we do an experiment to see if actual sex on the beach was as good as the drink.” 
“Well, it looks like it exceeded expectations.” You giggled, pulling his head down to kiss him.
“So, how about round two?” He asked, his hands wandering back down to your butt. 
“I’m way too pregnant to end up with sand in unfortunate places, so how about sex in a cabana?” You compromised, smirking. 
“I think it’s time to head back to shore, Angel.” He replied, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you in towards the shore. 
“Jake!” You squealed, “Put me down! I am way too heavy!” 
“Angel, I can handle carrying my girls just fine.” He promised, “I would never let anything happen to either of you.”
“Such a softy.” You said, letting your fingers run over the wet hair at the nape of his neck.
“Don’t let that get out.” He teased, “I have a reputation to uphold.” 
“The gig is up, Babe.” You laughed, “Everyone knows you’re not really an asshole. As soon as they saw you with Ruben’s kids it was all over.”
He carried you out of the water and over the sand back to the cabana before setting you back on your feet. It had shades that could be pulled down for privacy and to block out more sun, which Jake took advantage of as soon as you got inside the cabana. There was a large sun lounger that looked more like a bed, in the middle of the cabana with small tables set up on each side. With the shades pulled on the sides and the light weight material used as a curtain in the front of the cabana let down, it gave you a little privacy from prying eyes of other resort guests. It was at least a private beach, only open to those staying at the resort. 
“This might have been easier before we were all wet.” You said, winding your arms around his neck as he came back to stand in front of you. “Now our suits are all clingy”
“Hmmm,” He hummed, leaning down to nibble at your jawline before working back towards your ear, whispering “I prefer my wife to be wet and clingy.” 
A shiver ran through your whole body, arousal flooding your system, soaking your already wet bikini bottoms.
“Jake” You moaned, trying to push up against him, as much as your very pregnant belly would allow, “I need you to fuck me.”
“Your wish is my command, Angel.” He replied, guiding you back towards the lounger. He untied your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor of the cabana, making sure to block you from view of the outside world. “Fuck, I love your boobs.”
“Thought you were an ass man, Stud.” You smirked, knowing that your husband had been infatuated with your boobs since you’d become pregnant. They had increased two cup sizes by this point in your pregnancy, and you were told they’d get even bigger once you were breastfeeding your daughter. Jake was intrigued by it. 
“When it comes to you, Angel there’s not a part of your body that doesn’t get me going.” He admitted, flashing his dimpled smile. He helped you to lay down on the lounger. He made sure you were propped up on the many decorative pillows and comfortable, leaning in for a quick kiss, before running his hands down over you, pausing to rest his hands on and gently kiss your bump, before continuing down, pulling your bikini bottoms off on his way.
The look of pure lust and adoration on your husband’s face was enough to give you confidence in your own body and not give in to the negative thoughts that tried to permeate your brain when you looked in the mirror. Your OB said it was normal as your body was rapidly changing, to have the negative feelings or insecurities but reminded you to be kind to yourself and if the thoughts became too intrusive to let her know so she could set you up with someone to talk to. Jake had been at that appointment and had made it his mission afterwards to make sure he knew how absolutely beautiful he found you and how incredible it was that you were growing an entire human. 
“I think you’re overdressed.” You smiled, allowing your eyes to hungrily track over his sun kissed body. “And I believe I was promised Sex on the Beach.”
A/N: There it is! My second ever Jake fic! What do you think??
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manfuckthisimout · 18 days
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This look RAHHHHHH
Your relationship with your boss was an odd one. It was obvious to everyone in the precinct that you and the detective were more than just boss and secretary. But you would never admit that, and August D had a weird way of showing his fondness. It was the same way every workday—come in at 6:30, find the detective already at his desk, make him coffee, start the day. He would fuss and scold you for little things, make excuses to stay at your desk and talk to you.
You two kind of danced around each other, an unspoken possessive from the detective, and you playing coy until he finally fesses up that he likes you.
He storms out of his office while you’re scheduling his next meeting.
“Didn’t I tell you not to mix up these documents?” he says, holding up a manila file folder. He looks quite frustrated, cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, suit jacket off and sleeves rolled past his forearms.
Yelling at you like this does virtually nothing in his favor—if anything it just makes you rub your thighs together. “I’m sorry sir,” you smooth out, batting your eyelashes up at him. “I thought your desk needed some tidying, and you were out in a case so..” He gives you a pointed look. “That doesn’t give you a reason to touch anything in my office. If I want you to tidy anything of mine, I’ll ask you to.” You nod, turning your attention back to the computer screen in front of you.
“Did you schedule my meeting with Captain Jung?” He asks, leaning over the front of your desk. You can feel him staring into your forehead, almost trying to make you squirm in your seat. “Of course sir, I just finished. Your meeting is for 4:30 today.” “Good.” He gives you one last long look over before pushing off your desk and walking back into his office.
You look up from your computer, staring at the deep mahogany that separates you and your boss. “Y’know, we have a running bet pool on which of you is gonna confess first.” Your coworker, Su-min slides over to your desk and props her hand under her chin. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on between me and him,” you sigh. “Sure. Tell it to the rest of us.” She chides back. “Don’t you have a case to be doing right now? That missing girl right? How long has it been?” “About a week or so. I really hope we can find her alive, but it’s starting to look grim.” She grimaces. “I hope you end up finding her either way—“
“Y/N! My office, now!”
Suddenly his door was cracked, and you could see him walking back to his desk, waiting for you.
You turn to Su-min and grimace. “Duty calls. Tell me about the case after I get done with this.” She grins at you. “Don’t start fooling around in there, keep it PG!” You roll your eyes, standing from your desk and walking into the detective’s office.
“You called for me detective?” You answer sweetly. “Sit. I have something to talk to you about.” You sit in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. He gets up and rounds the front of his desk, leaning against it to look at you better. “We’ve known each other for quite sometime now,” he starts, arms folded and head down. He smirks. “You and I both know that I’ve been dancing around you these past years-“ “Is that what you call it sir?” He pauses. “Excuse me?” “Is that what you call it, this situation I mean. I was very aware of your feelings about me from the day we met sir. The whole precinct knows how you act around me.” “..I’ve been that bad at hiding it then?” “Pretty much.”
He sighs. “I know I haven’t been…vocal..about my feelings for you. I’d like to fix that. Do you want to go to lunch with me sometime?” You smile at his bluntness. He’s always been bad with words like this, saving his poetical vocabulary for high-stress situations with criminals. “What’s so funny?” He asks, brow raised, smile on his face. “You are. You’re so bad with words sir..” You giggle. He leans down, gripping either side of the arms on the chair. He’s so close to you now, noses almost touching. “I am, hm? And that’s funny?” You nod. He chuckles. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” “Lunch right? What time?” “Lunch time.” You grimace. “Well, I assumed that much. 12 or 1?” “12:30.” “12:30 it is. I’ll mark it on your personal calendar.”
He lifts himself from his position, rounding his desk again and sitting in his chair. He stares at you longingly. “I’d suggest you get back out there. Wouldn’t want to keep the office waiting on who won that bet.” You chuckle. “Yes sir.”
Second fic rawr
This came to me in a feverish daydream
Also because of boredom
Hope you like!!
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anakinscrybaby · 2 months
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what about reader giving ani the silent treatment and he gets annoyed and fucks her so she finally talks to him again?!??!
ATTENTION: A.S.
anakin skywalker x afab!reader
18+ MDNI WC: 1309
warnings: slight angst, couple fighting, fluff, smut, anger, porn w plot, crying, i took so much inspo from a porn trope, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), gspot stimulation, anakins kind of mean at the start. DNI if not comfortable!
Anakin had been getting on your nerves this week, and it never seemed to quit. It was something so deep in his selfishness that he was unable to see how much he had bothered you; to be gone all day, and come home just to not give you any attention. He would slug himself into the kitchen, drink water, give you a lazy excuse of a mumble for a “thank you” just to lurk into the shower for god knows how long (using YOUR special shampoo) and to lay in bed until you both fell asleep. The only affection he would give you at the time were light neck kisses, and playing with your hair
Of course, it's not Anakin's fault he has been feeling so down lately.. But you want to be able to help him and it's always refused. He hadn't realized how the lack of attention was bothering you until you fought that evening.
A short, shallow mix of your yelling and sobs, and Anakin unable to understand what you needed, because all you could do was cry about how you needed his attention. Once he realized, he looked at you like he was almost offended. Were his neck kisses before you slept not enough? They would be, if you didn't wake up in the middle of the night to a cold, empty bed.  
At the end of it, Anakin sat in the living room reflecting, as he heard you quietly crying in the bedroom into your pillow. How could he be so selfish? He refused all help given to him, and instead just brought her down with him. He may have not been the best boyfriend at the time, and saying he felt horrible was a severe understatement. You were his living light, the reason his heart beat, you were the air he breathed.
He gained his confidence to see you laying in bed with wet hair, having just showered; and flipping through a book. When he walked in, your heart felt like it was going to explode with so many emotions. You were angry, furious of course; you almost wanted to throw your book at him and scream, but at the same time, it was filled with love and grief of missing him, so you decided to just ignore him. Anakin stood in the doorway, looking over at you, your skin shining fresh with lotion, and the big t-shirt he gave you to wear. 
“Honey? Honey..” He spoke to you just for you to ignore him, like he was talking to the walls of the room instead of you. The fear and guilt in his voice was immaculate to hear, it almost healed you; knowing he was sorry “My love..” He whispered as he got onto his knees right by the bed, rubbing your leg just to move it away, wanting to see how much you could push and make his guilt rise. It was messed up’ you know that, but you just want him to feel as guilty as he could. Anakin felt his heart break as you moved away. He wanted nothing more to hold you in his arms, cover you in as many kisses as he could until your heart was healed. But alas, he actually had to get your attention, and apologize. That's a scary word for him. He said your name sternly, for  you to just peek over your  book and look him in the eye. His facial features were prominent, nostrils flared, and he was scared red from crying earlier… you made him cry; but still.. You were mad. That was not enough for you. He tried and tried getting your attention, just for you to never falter to it. 
You see him stand up out of the corner of your eye, looking down at you. His hands start slightly stroking your thighs and putting his hand on the back of your neck “Come on baby… Please just talk to me. You don't have to make this as hard as it is right now” You feel him slowly shift and crawl onto the edge of the bed. What was he doing? What the fuck? He feels up your thighs, pulling that big tshirt up so he has more room to see you, letting out a low groan “Do I really have to make you talk to me?” Anakin traces his fingers up your thighs, seeing you blush slightly, still seeing your eyes on your book. You read word by word as you tried to ignore him slowly prying your thighs open, to look at your panties, brushing his nose against them. You knew this game, you know you couldn't win.. But shouldn't you at least try?
Your thoughts were quickly cut off by him licking a strip over your underwear, and licking the insides of your thighs, then running his hands over your covered folds. His deep, husky voice filled the room as he sternly whispered to you. “Lift your hips up.” You hesitantly obliged, raising your hips so Anakin could pull your panties off, to slowly throw them aside. “Good girl…” He said with a smile as he spread your legs, settling himself between them. He slowly blew on your clit, making you jerk in surprise, overhearing his soft chuckle. He was being such a brat. Couldn’t he just eat you out.. Not make you even more furious? He dipped his head in between your legs, licking and sucking on your clit, making you wet with a mixture of your juices and his spit… he was licking softly and suckling on you for a few minutes until he spoke up. Your body was already flashing hot already from the pressure on your clit, but you tried to ignore him. The words in your book were beginning to make less sense, and your mind was creeping over to Anakin, and how much you deeply, truly missed him. 
“Wow… baby?” He said “You must be so upset to ignore me when I'm kissing your pussy like this…. I'm so, so sorry baby… “ 
He whispered this between your folds, going back to kissing and delving in them, slowly slipping his fingers inside. You let out your first moan of the night, and dropped the book, finally looking at him. “Well, there's progress” Cocky bitch.
His fingers slowly massaged your g spot, as you threw your book across the bed, and put a hand in his hair, letting out another guttural moan. You saw his eyes look up at you as he was sucking on your clit, your juices and his spit all around his mouth and on his nose. His free hand creeped up to hold yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand as you threw your head back in ecstasy, letting out a smile as you do so, your legs almost folding over on your body. You used your leg to push him closer, your calf resting over his shoulders and neck keeping him there. He went faster, giving your pussy all the attention you craved from him this past week. You felt your pussy flutter, unexpectedly cumming all over his fingers as he massaged your insides. He let out his own moan when he saw you drip all over his fingers, looking up at you and cooing. “Oh baby… you needed that didnt you, yeah? Just need your pussy rubbed a bit so you can cheer up?” He crawled on top of you and made eye contact as he licked himself off of his fingers, before grinding himself against you, looking at you. “Come on baby… let me in.. I'm so sorry, you know I'd do anything to make it up to you. Anything.” 
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maineventbts · 1 month
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The Boy Is Mine
pairing: jey uso x reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: cursing , some innuendoes at the end , that’s pretty much it.
note: i haven’t written anything in a while , im just testing the waters. pls be kind <3
It was Monday, meaning you were walking into the arena for tonight's show. Typically, you enjoyed coming to work; you had the best job in the world. However, this was the last place you wanted to be today. Your silver suitcase was rolling behind you as your best friend power walked to keep up with your quick strides. Your goal was to reach your destination as quickly as possible, avoiding as much contact as you could. You greeted some staff and fellow coworkers before rushing into the female locker room. Holding the door open for your friend, as she gives you a side eye on her way into the room. "What is wrong with you? You need to slow the fuck down," Nia said with her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath.
You refused to tell her the reason for your speed walking into the arena. In your mind, the reasoning made you sound like a high schooler, and you were grown as hell. You and your longtime friend, who happens to be Nia's cousin, were going through a rough patch. You and Josh were not just typical friends; you were practically in love with each other. You couldn't get enough of each other from the day you first met. Sitting together in catering, riding to shows together, even having him hold your purse sometimes. You two even shared many steamy moments in private. No one ever questioned your closeness until a new person was added to the mix. Newer talent, Nikita, the Bane of your existence. Because you and Josh were not an official item, he was fair game for anyone. However, you were ready to go to bat for that man, like he put a ring on your finger.
"Hello? Girl, you almost killed me; this better not be about Josh again." Nia shakes your shoulders, pulling you from your daze. You playfully smack her hands off of your body, "my bad, I'm just a little tired today." Not believing your excuse, Nia opens her mouth, preparing to remind you of your busy day. "And I know we have a tag match tonight, I'll be focused," you beat her to the punch.
After setting up your space in the locker room, you and some of the other women head to catering. You've only had a matcha latte today, and if you didn't eat anything soon, your body would give up. Thankfully, there is always a diverse spread of delicious food, so you never have to worry about going hungry. You grab a Gatorade and pack your plate with three tacos and rice. As soon as you sit down with Nia and Naomi, you notice Naomi's continuous glances at you. "Yes, Naomi," you say, already knowing what was about to come next.
"Why are you ignoring that man," referring to her brother-in-law, Josh. Unsurprisingly, he told his twin brother Jon, who definitely told Trinity. You poke at the food on your plate before looking up at the girls, "I'm not ignoring hi-," Trinity put her hand up, not wanting to hear whatever bullshit you were about to spew. "I literally watch you speed walk past him at every show. And he won't stop calling me and Jon to see what's wrong with you." It was obvious that Trinity wanted to help you both, but you wanted to avoid being lectured by your friends. "He out here entertaining other bitches, what am I supposed to do," your words came out in a whisper in an attempt to keep your fellow workers out of your business.
You’ve been talking about Josh too much because he comes around the corner like Beetlejuice. In an instant, your head is down, and you begin eating your food, praying that he'll ignore you. His eyes are on you instantly, but to your surprise, he doesn't approach you. Instead, he sits down with Xavier and Kofi, at the table beside you. Your back was toward him, but Nia's constant looks in his direction weren't helping your paranoia. "Stop looking over there," you mouth to her, causing her to look down at her plate.
Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, Bane arrives here to ruin your day. "What up Nikita," you hear Xavier greet the girl, who takes a seat at their table. Your jaw tightens, and your grip on your fork is deadly. Her presence makes you want to flip every table in the room and slap the taste out of her mouth. "I'm liking the little blue in the back, Josh; did you just dye it?" just the sound of her voice raises your body temperature. Smoke is practically barreling out of your ears as you try to remain calm. His hair color is none of her business, and why didn't he tell you about it? Your mind is racing so fast that you don't notice Trinity and Nia's concerned facial expressions. If you didn't leave this table now, Nikita would be laid out on it. Gathering your trash and personal items, you get up from the table and get away from catering as quick as possible. Little did you know, Joshua was staring at you the entire time with puppy dog eyes, praying that you'd look his way.
Back in the locker room, you begin to prep for your match. Earbuds snug in your ears as you riffle through your suitcase, trying to find the best gear to wear. After a swift search, you pull out one of your strategically distressed t-shirts, trunks, and kickpads. You change in one of the stalls and throw on your black boots. "You want to look like me so bad," Nia lets out a laugh as you both come out of the stalls wearing the same colors. The show had already started, and it was time for you two to get in the makeup chair.
"Do you want to go with a neutral type of look tonight," Melinda, one of the makeup artist, always asked what you wanted before she worked her magic. You went with the neutrals, and so did Nia. You and the girls are enjoying small talk as she puts the finishing touches on your face. "Y/N," your body instantly tensed up, and you refused to look away from the girl in front of you. Nia instantly looked away and continued to chat with the other girls. "Girl, i know you did not," you mutter, shocked that she'd leave you to deal with this alone.
"Yes, Josh," you fight the urge to face him, trying to stay strong. If you looked that man in the eyes, you just might let everything go and fold. "Can we go somewhere and talk," he moves to stand before you, not allowing you to avoid him any longer. "I'm getting my makeup done," you quickly respond, hoping to excuse yourself from the situation. "Actually, you're all done now," Melinda pats your shoulder as she ushers you to get out of the chair. Your eyes widen as you've just been thrown to a wolf by your favorite makeup artist. You thank the woman, realizing that you can't hide anymore. "Come on," you tilt your head towards the far end of the hall, which happens to be empty.
"Why you ignoring me," Joshua jumps straight to the point, looking down on you. His body looks tense as he folds his hands in front of him. It was beyond evident that he was just as nervous as you were, if not more. "We been friends for years, you know you my girl," you could hear the hurt in his voice, and it completely shattered your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt Josh, but you were hurting too. "If I'm your girl, why are you flirting with other bitches? It's supposed to be me and you, Joshua; this is not a group thing." You could hardly hold eye contact with him anymore; his eyes looked angry and apologetic, while you looked like you were about to burst into tears.
He cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "Ain't nobody flirting with nobody. She just follows me and the guys around sometimes, you need to stop trippin-"you smack his hand away from your face. How dare he accuse you of being dramatic. "I need to stop trippin? You won't even let Dolph sit next to me anymore. Anybody gets friendly with me, and you get upset, but I can't be mad at you for getting fresh with someone that ain't me," no longer were you scared to look at him; you were practically fuming. Head cocked to the side with your arms crossed over your chest, "you're so fucking backwards, Josh. If you wanna flirt with other people, if you want to fuck with other people, go ahead!" The two of you sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what even happened. He clenched his jaw, as you tried your best to hold back the flood that was ready to fall from your eyes.
"Fuck you, Josh. I'm so fucking done with you," you turn away from him, not wanting to waste any more of your time on someone who wasn't truly committed to you. Head hanging low as you speed past everyone in the hall. Joshua watches you walk away from him, knowing that you need some time to cool off. Though you might not understand now, he loves you more than anything else in this world, and he wouldn't let you walk out of his life that easily.
The rest of your evening was bearable. You won your tag match with Nia but had to go up against the one person you wanted to strangle. Luckily for you, Josh was nowhere to be found; now it was time to get the hell out of there before he magically appeared again. You and Nia were outside, waiting for Saraya to bring the car around. Sitting on your suitcase with your earbuds in, this was the most peace you had gotten all day.
As Saraya pulls up in front of you, a hand drapes over your shoulder. You recognized that soft yet heavy hand anywhere. "What do you want Josh," your words come out very monotonous as you pull the earbuds from your ears. "You riding with me tonight," his words sounding more like a statement than a question. You shrug his hand off of your shoulder before rising from your seat. "No, I'm going with the girls to-” before you could finish your sentence, Joshua is holding your suitcase along with his, "you gon' stop running from me. You know just how much I love you, even though we haven't made anything official, I've made it more than clear that you my number one." Before you can get a word out, he continues, "I shouldn't have let her get that close to me; that's my fault entirely. But never once did I feed into her advances or little flirtatious behavior. I'm not checking for anybody that's not you, ma," with every word he says, you feel your face get hotter. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but you didn’t think that he’d profess his love for you outside the arena.
"I know we ain't made nothing official or anything, but I wanna change that. I don't want no one thinking they got a chance with you, and I know you don't want that either." Joshua advances towards you, letting go of the suitcase handles. Hands slowly wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to his body, "be my girl, officially." You couldn’t resist it anymore, the last thing you wanted was to keep fighting with Josh. Your hand comes up to the back of his head, strands of his blue hair through your fingers, "I'd like that very much," your words come out softly as you feel your face burning. His eyes were scanning all over your body like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. You couldn’t lie, you did get some new braids in and did your makeup a bit different lately, hoping he would notice. He wasn’t the only one staring, you found yourself drooling over his tattooed arms and the shine from his grill. It’s been a minute since y’all got together and you needed him now.
"Kiss her! Be a man," you hear Saraya and Nia yelling from the car, you completely forgot that they were waiting on you. Leaning down, Joshua carefully places his lips against yours. Wasting no time, you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. Your nails are softly combing through his hair as his hands start to roam your body. You hear squeals in the background before slowly pulling away from his lips. Gloss slightly smudged on your face and on his lips. Your mouth curves into a smile before you turn your attention to your friends. "I'll see y'all in the next town," you raise your middle finger at the pair before gathering your items to leave with your new man.
"You gon' apologize for ignoring me all this time," he looks over at you, licking his lips as you help him load up the rental. Already knowing what kind of apology he wanted, you shake your head, "nah, I've been under so much emotional stress lately. I think you owe me an apology, maybe even two," you giggle as he closes the trunk. "I’ma give you whatever you want baby," he says, hand smacking your ass before you walk over to the passenger door.
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pupcuck · 3 months
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HONEYTRAP !
ft. leon s. kennedy x reader x ashley graham
tags. p in v, threesome, president leon, daddy-daughter incest (ashley/leon not reader), voyeurism, oral
note. haiii :3 sorry for mistakes it’s unedited! not the proudest of this! got messy and clunky 😭 but rbs and feedback always so appreciated :3
tumblr has started to remove fics that for example use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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“No, babe, it’s online, you can watch it, and can you tell Chris to watch it? I’m excited, I know he’s not happy about it, but, I am,” Claire’s voice is obfuscated by the chatter in the background, “This is a big deal for me, I mean—“ She cuts herself off, voice distant, “Oh, yes— No, not at all, it’s lovely to meet you—“
Beep!
You blink at your phone. She hung up on you. Granted, she’s been one busy bee so you let her off. For now. You shoot a message to Chris, tell him that as Claire said, this means a lot to her, and as tight as he is with the Kennedys, that she’s his sister, she should come first. You’re well aware that he knows that, that he wouldn’t dare put anyone above his sister, she’s at the centre of his world - it’s just for good measure.
The interview is lengthy, you suppress a groan because really you should very much be interested in the state of current affairs. And this is Claire’s line of work, and Claire is your girlfriend, and you should support her in her endeavours. Clicking on the link she’s forwarded opens up a grayscale website. The first video is President Kennedy in all his glory, which is not a lot of glory to be quite frank. He’s an eyesore to you. Like, that chin? Seriously? He should consider some sort of medical procedure, you don’t know if that’s a thing, but you know a girl who got her cleft lip fixed, so why not the chin?
Most of the video is full to the brim with political jargon that you fail to understand. Completely different language. Could understand Morse code better than this.
Skip, skip, skip.
“The issue with Penamstan? I hate to be rude, Mr. Kennedy,” No, she does not, Claire loves to be rude, “But do you know where that is on a map?” Claire, always straight to the point.
“I know all the stans,” President Kennedy smiles, charming and stupidly stupid all at once. He’s kind of cute when he smiles. It’s really just that chin. Very American though, you’ll give it to him. Named Kennedy too? America loves a Kennedy, he had it easy.
“What?” Not even an excuse me.
“Pakistan, Afghanistan, Kazakhstan, Penamstan… The, uh, more forgettable stans,” He trails off, taken off guard by a woman in a pantsuit leaning down to talk to him, a hand cupped over her mouth, he blinks up at her slowly, “Uz-beki-stan,” President Kennedy sounds out as if the word is foreign on his tongue, and it is, so incredibly foreign, “Turk… Turkmenistan, and Penamstan, of course.”
That’s all you needed to know he has the brain density of a wafer. Was the most interesting part though. He would’ve made a good stripper or a boy-toy, you think. Instead, he’s being marketed as this all-encompassing package of a man, which he is not.
Skip, skip, skip.
Penamstan— Foreign Policy— Penamstan— Voting— Penamstan— Radicalisation— Terrorism— Your predecessor, Graham— Sexual relations— Gaffe—
You pause, rewind a minute or so back. Sexual relations. This is what you’re into. No idea who Monica Lewinsky is, know all about the dress though.
“You’ve heard of the accusations, yes?” Claire frowns so much like Chris you have to turn away.
President Kennedy’s lack of jaw tightens, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him behave so offstandish in the fourteen minutes you’ve ever seen of him. “Yes.”
“You didn’t like that,” Claire notes, her lip twitching upwards.
“Didn’t know we had a psychologist with us today,” His lips are stretched thin into a smile that resembles a grimace more than anything. There’s scattered laughter, and the lady beside him, poised as ever, taps him on the shoulder. “My apologies,” He straightens up immediately, “Ask away.”
“Thank you,” She responds coolly when she is anything but, “You- I mean you have to admit that it’s strange to behave that way with your daughter of all people, otherwise there wouldn’t be accusations in the first place,” Claire challenges him with a tilt of her head, he mirrors it.
The lady taps his shoulder once more, leans down once more, whispers conspicuously, they nod to each other. A gesture to someone behind the camera is made, and then, much to Claire’s clear dismay: “We’re sorry to cut this short—“
The video ends, and the opening frame pops up once more. Huh. So President Kennedy is tonguing his daughter on the side. Maybe you need to pay more attention to things that are actually important, or you need to listen to Claire more often unless she’s failed to mention the most interesting part of whatever case she’s building. As far as you’re concerned, if voting doesn’t go in the red, you’re fine. Claire says being a centrist is the worst thing you can be, it’s just that you’ve got your own shit to worry about. Work, college, Claire, family. It takes up your life. You pitch in to vote for whoever’s democratic, watch the descent into chaos and forget about it in a week as most do, an attempt to forget the state of the country.
You wonder what she looks like. His daughter. If it’s worth risking the presidency over incest she must be a cutie. And she is indeed, cute like a teacup terrier, you can see why he’d be balls deep— but that is purely because you’re a bit of a horndog. Harvard Law School, a privilege you’re sure, girl looks like a total ditz. Barbie doll legs, the palest of blondes, and her smile is adorable. Not like her father’s smarmy one in the slightest, sweet and genuine for a girl whose teeth look done. Braces? Veneers? Not a single gap between them, not a single one out of place, not a single one is coffee stained.
The headlines pretty much say the thing. Kennedy fucks his daughter. Kennedy said she reminds him of Marilyn, so what does that make him if he’s a Kennedy? Truly, they harp on about it with no proof, apart from that photo of them too close for comfort— And the other one where they’re too close for comfort— And the last one where they’re too close for comfort.
Claire returns in the early hours of the morning, her jacket squeaks when she takes it off, hanging it the back of the vanity chair. She gets into bed, touches your hand to check if you're awake, her eyes sparkle even in the dark when she asks, “Did you see it?”
“Mhm,” You pinch her doughy cheek when she grins, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Claire says, head dipping to rest in the hollow of your neck, “I got cut off at the last minute.”
“I saw… He got touchy about the daughter-fucker thing.”
“He always does,” She huffs out air through her nose, “Only people who fuck their daughters get defensive when people accuse them of fucking their daughters. Oh, and his wife, she doesn’t go to a single event, it’s always Ashley, Ashley, Ashley— it’s so fucking strange.”
“True,” Your fingers slip beneath the loops of her hair tie, loosening her ponytail, sometimes you fear it’ll come off clean with how tight she makes it. It’s like Claire’s intention is to recede her hairline on purpose. “What can you do though, right?”
Her lack of response is eerie, you pass it off as her falling asleep. She’s had a long day, an exciting one at that, Claire’s likely just crashing. So you kiss her head, let her nestle into your chest, the spot where she’s most comfortable.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Giving your girlfriend the benefit of the doubt when she’s putting you up to the most outrageous scheme quite possibly ever is hard. “I have work, Claire.”
“Work can wait, babe, this is seriously important, it means a lot for America’s future,” Ugh, you don’t like when she talks like that. Sounds like a propaganda poster come to life.
“I don’t care about America’s future, I care about mine, babe, I care about ours, I don’t think Kennedy fucking his kid has anything to do with America’s future.”
“Babe, America’s future is our future,” She insists, “I won’t ask of you ever again,” Claire clasps her hands together, kneels in front of you as if you’re in fresco on the ceiling of a half-painted chapel, as if Claire Redfield, famous and outspoken atheist activist is the most pious woman to set foot in the USA.
“I have work, I have to get ready, I don’t have time for this.”
“See, this is what I mean, you’re so—“ Before her frustration reaches its boiling point, you watch Claire mouth the words one, two, three and onwards to fifteen. “Baby, darling,” She cups your cheeks, “This would mean the world to me when I say I would never bother you again with my shit, I promise. Pinky swear.”
“Don’t call me darling,” You wriggle out of her grip, “I can’t risk another day off, Claire.”
“There’s an opening in the office,” She offers, “It’s not much, but it’s better than what you’re doing now.”
“How so?” Your interest is piqued.
“Desk job,” Claire shrugs, “It’s easy, babe, you’re smart, too smart for retail.”
“I am too smart for retail,” You agree with a sigh, it keeps you on your feet all day, then you end up blowing your paycheck on pedicures.
“You are,” She coos, kissing the back of your hand as if you’re the most delicate thing since butterflies, “And you’ll do so well, that’s why I want you to do it, babe, ‘cause I just know you’re the only one who could do it,” Flattery does get Claire somewhere, it gets her in your good books, “The, uh, you don’t mind the, uh, y’know, incest part.”
“He’s not my dad, she’s not my sister.” Detaching yourself from the incestuous element would be best, you don’t know if you have a strong enough stomach to handle it in any other way.
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“You can’t kiss me,” Claire frowns, her professional face on, “From now on, we can’t be seen with each other, okay?”
“Babe,” You pout, she scowls, “You look so good tonight, I don’t want to leave you.” The notched lapels of her suit make her shoulders look broader, you want to drag your nails over the cashmere, over her tender skin.
“Your name is on the guest list,” Your alias, she means, you don’t know how she did it, but Claire manages to manage, “Please…” Don’t fuck this up for me, you assume, “Good luck, okay?”
The security process is tedious, they drone on and on about a topic in which you have no knowledge, they pat you down— Should they be doing this to someone who might be an esteemed guest?
You pass through, the crowd is full of beautiful girls with made-up faces and dark ringlets and dresses like wedding cakes. There’s less than savoury men. She doesn’t stand out in a crowd like this, but you spot her anyway. Nobody in their right mind would wear that shade of orange. Ashley Kennedy, according to your girlfriend, is fucking her father, and so she is clinically and mentally and psychically and biologically and any other ally insane. So, yes, she would wear rust orange proudly, she would go out of her way to purchase a floor-length evening gown in that exact colour. Just to prove that, yes, she is indeed fucking her dad. Would calling it quits at this very moment be justifiable to Claire? Would your reasoning be enough to accuse a girl of fucking her father?
To your utter astonishment, both Mrs and Miss Kennedy approach you first, both as in Ashley. As she is both his wife and daughter if Claire’s deduction is correct.
“Hi,” Ashley’s smile is as perfect as it was in the tabloids, her skin is dewy, and her lashes light with no attempt to darken them. It would look unnatural.
“Hi,” You grin back at her, focus on the pendant that swings low, a silver eagle that sits cushdy between her perky tits.
“Daddy told me I had to—“ Her face drops for a split second, “Oops,” She covers her mouth, swallows back a nervous giggle, “Dad told me I had to socialise, make connections,” She imitates his formalities, “Oh, gosh, I am totally being so rude right now!” Ashley waves her hands at you, “My daddy- Dad is the president, sorry to come onto you like that like you were supposed to know, gosh, I’m Ashley by the way.”
“I know,” You take her hand in yours when she offers it, squeeze it warmly, “Don’t sweat it, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know you.”
“Right, right, I guess that’s true,” She hiccups, “Sorry, god, champagne, I’m so new to drinking, I really don’t think it’s for me.” This girl is making it too easy for you.
“You just haven’t tried the right one, I love your dress by the way, colour brings out your eyes.” Like how grass brings out the pumpkins on a pumpkin patch.
“Oh my goodness, thank you!” Ashley follows after you, lost and clinging to the person she has deemed friendliest.
“Have you ever had a French martini?”
“Oh, no, what’s that? It sounds exotic.” She’s bubbly, excitable, so sweet you almost feel bad setting her up like this.
“Do you like pineapple?”
Ashley ponders, “Only juice, eating pineapple eats at my tongue, I totally know that’s what it does, but still it feels so weird.”
“You’ll like this then.” You assure her, and she bobs her head up and down in agreement, her trust for you is unconditional within five minutes flat. Claire deserved that spot at Harvard.
“There’s vodka in it,” She hums, “Daddy,” Her third slip-up of the night, “Dad doesn’t even let me near vodka.”
“Really?” You raise a brow, then your glass and she does the same.
“Never, he sucks when it comes to me doing, like, adult things,” Her nose twitches at the first sip, she reminds you of a bunny, an energiser bunny.
“Like what?”
“Drinking, driving, partying,” Ashley lists off, “He’s okay, but he’s protective, I know it comes with, like, president’s daughter territory, it just totally sucks!”
Drinking, driving, partying— Dad doesn’t mind when she’s doing adult things like sucking his dick though. That’s not a problem!
“I like you,” Ashley says, two French martinis and one cosmopolitan in, “You’re so fun, I don’t really get to meet people other than, like, the one daddy introduces me to. Don’t get me wrong, I get it, I’m privileged so I talk to privileged people, but they’re so…”
“Stuck up,” You finish for her, “I didn’t expect you to be so sweet.”
“Oh, I can see why, I get it, I’m not offended or anything,” She sighs softly, gazes at the chandelier as if she longs for more than ball gowns and Havard and spending her days shifting idly through the clothing racks at Dolce & Gabbana while her daddy lounges on the chaise chairs. “I just think you’re so down to earth,” Poor thing, it’s a shame she’s fucking her dad, you hope to uncover an entirely different truth, that they’re close and it’s nothing more, “Who did you come with by the way?”
“I’m a plus one,” You knock back your drink, grip tightening on the glass, “No one important, just lucky, I guess.”
“Huh,” Ashley takes in your words, she nods, another drink slips down easily, and by the end of it, she is clinging to your arm like you mean the world to her, “You should sooo come back to my room!” Her words slur until her sentence is more of a single word, “We could have fun,” Whether she’s soliciting sex or she wants your company, you don’t mind, “Me and daddy are staying here tonight.”
“Really?” You ask, as if Claire hadn’t briefed you on the room number prior to this, “Then I guess I wouldn’t mind coming.”
“Yay!” Her security detail emerge from the crowd, and you’re dumb for not having noticed them beforehand, but what Ashley says goes. “Gosh, you don’t have to tell, daddy, he’s busy right now. No, we’ll be fine, you can leave us to it, when daddy’s done then he’ll come up.”
An elevator ride up and up and up to the top floor, through the stretch of hall to the finest suite. Ashley is high energy, for a lack of better words, she is tiring. She kicks off her heels, still stands tall, modelesque in shape. Boyish hips jutting out of her square torso. The key card is left on the side when she’s not paying attention, which luckily for you is most of the time, you slide it beneath the door frame and shoot a text to Claire who is hovering nearby. A minute later, she confirms her success.
“Ugh, I was so over it,” Ashley groans, “Do you mind helping me out of this?”
“Of course not,” You say smoothly, wondering if this is an invitation to something more. The silk of her dress is made by the wealthiest of silkworms, just as you get your hands on her, the door unlocks.
“Ashley,” President Kennedy is panting like he ran up all twenty-nine flights of stairs at the Fairmont, “Princess, you worried me.”
“Daddy, you scared me, you scared us,” She gasps, he’s swift in his steps, tips her chin upwards as if he’s checking for damage on her angel face, he thumbs her smeared lipstick.
“Did you kiss… Did you?” Kennedy’s eyes flit from your lips to Ashley’s, you wonder why he’s so wound up about a kiss, must be the incest. Her lipstick is smeared on the rim of her martini glass, not your lips.
“What? Daddy, no, don’t be silly, not yet at least,” She makes her intentions clear, “I thought you were busy, daddy.”
“Ashley, I’m not too busy for you, I have things to oversee, but…”
As your father, I have to oversee your sex life, Ashley! I demand to watch!
“But, what?” Ashley cocks her head to the side, her hands running along the shape of his shoulders, then downwards over his chest.
“You’re more important, you know that.” Kennedy strokes her head, she bats her lashes at him, they’re barely visible so it’s more a flurry of blinks.
“Oh, daddy, you’re so sweet,” She giggles, puckers her lips and the sentiment is shared between them— They kiss like lovers do, dirtier than you and Claire. Unaffected, Ashley looks over his shoulder at you, “We can still have fun,” She promises, “Daddy can just watch, won’t you?”
Jesus Christ. Now that you’re actually faced with it. Incest in the flesh. It’s nerve-wracking. How is one meant to digest incest?
“Ashley, I don’t watch you catching anything nasty,” He tries to be discreet, you hear him loud and clear.
“Daddy,” She scolds, hitting his chest. He shucks off his suit jacket, laying it out on the back of the chair adjacent to the Alaskan king bed that could fit a family of five let alone the three of you. He sits, stares at you with his glassy eyes. President Kennedy is handsome in real life, you kind of get the appeal now, the camera does add ten pounds, ages him by ten years too apparently. There is something about him that is effortlessly masculine yet soft, sweet almost.
Ashley’s dress comes off next, she cares little for the way it is left wrinkled on the ground, her hand finds its way between your thighs. She’s not inexperienced. She knows her way around your body like she would her father’s. Her fingers are long and slim, nimble when the pads come to ghost your clit, lifting back the hood to press her thumb into it.
Instinctively, your hips buck into her hand, she kisses you, smiling into your mouth. Claire is at the forefront of your mind, she’d given you the permission to do this, but it feels wrong still. The incest feels even worse. You’ve been trying to ignore it so far, pretend it’s just Ashley here. Ashley’s lips on yours, her fingers in your cunt, her tits pressed flush to your chest— His eyes are so blue.
Ashley scissors you open with two fingers, you suck on her tit, both of you tangled up within each other. Pulling off with a pop, she takes out her fingers and you’re left empty. You taste yourself on her tongue, on her fingers and grow sick of it.
“C’mere,” You take the pillow that’s propped up against the headboard and slot it underneath her hips to keep ‘em raised. Ashley’s cunt is perfect like the rest of her. You wonder if there are procedures to get it this pink, her labia pokes out past her parted pussy lips as does her swollen clit, you give a tentative lick to her cunt, unsure of how she likes it. Claire likes it messy, but Ashley’s rich, she might like it classy. You could eat pussy classy if you tried hard enough.
She lies back, her head sunken into the mass of pillows - the one you had taken barely left a dent in the pile, her tits are small but round and her nipples are pointed and as pink as her pussy. Ashley takes initiative, daddy’s been giving it to her real sloppy it seems, ‘cause she pushes your face into it. Your nose bumps her clit and she sighs sweetly when your tongue works its merry way up her slit, from her slick hole to her twitching bud that you pay extra special attention to. It deserves it, pretty like a pearl, wrap your lips around it and suck till her thighs close around your head.
“Outta the way,” Mr. President, fully clothed, cock hard straining in his slacks, takes Ashley’s leg and spreads her further, “Keep it there for daddy, princess.”
When you lift your head out of pure curiosity, he kisses you, jams his tongue into your mouth to taste you like your tongue wasn’t just jammed in his daughter’s cunt. His daughter who is spread-eagle on the bed for The United States of America. Though, from the way they’re behaving, Ashley is a renowned patriot, this isn’t her first time confessing her love for all things red, white, and blue. And rust orange.
Dumbfounded by his takeover of the pussy you were having so much fun eating, you crawl back over to Ashley while daddy blows raspberries on her clit, spits on the First Daughter’s, his first daughter’s, cunt like she’s a corner whore.
“Daddy,” Ashley moans, she’s unabashed, grabs his hair and forces him deeper, she tells you to suck on her tits, she’s bossy when it comes to sex. Mastered the art of fucking.
“I’ve got you, princess,” Her daddy says, he can talk while he’s eating it, impressive if you do say so yourself. The most you can do is go down on Claire till you get lightheaded, breathing is out of the question.
She cums sweetly because there is no other way in which Ashley can behave. The blood that runs through her is inherently sweet unlike her father’s. Mr. Kennedy slurps away even as she jolts due to aftershocks, he’s intent on drying her out.
When he does decide to join the two of you above, it’s to press kisses into Ashley’s neck, to sniff her perfume, “Good girl,” He praises, “Daddy’s good girl.” Those lines sound like something out of a cheap porno. Hard to believe that it’s real. That you seriously just sat there and got cucked by Ashley’s father.
“Thank you, daddy,” Ashley giggles, stroking through his dark hair as he suckles on her nipple, spit stringy on his lips and her breast when he pulls back. “No, not me,” She refuses when he, with his slacks mid-thigh, presses his cock to her inner thigh, “I want to watch you, daddy.”
See, you’ve taken dick, you take Claire’s silicone dick often. Taking presidential dick, it’s new to you. Presidential dick that could’ve possibly at any time today been lodged inside his little girl, meaning you’re being double dicked not only by a presidential cock, but an incestuous one. It’s fat, browner than it is pink, uncut, the tip is leaky like nobody’s business.
“Aw, oh my gosh,” Ashley coos, “Don’t be scared, you’ve got this!” Your nerves don’t stem from taking his mediocre, prized dick, but from everything else about this situation. “Daddy’s good at it, it never hurts.” She holds your hand, brings it to her lips to kiss, fluffs the pillows and peppers kisses all over your face as President Kennedy, a man of assumed integrity pushes your legs to your chest.
His cock rubs up and down your cunt, catches on your clit, the fat tip is sucked into your stretched hole and inch by inch he forces his way into your hole. With each inch, not that there’s many, it gets thicker, till the base is engulfed into your greedy pussy. Ashley wipes the sweat from your brow, “Isn’t it good?” She gushes, “Daddy’s just the best, I don’t think I could ever be with anyone else, he’s just so good at it, isn’t he?” In response to her blabbing, you can only whimper, giving a quick bob of your head to satisfy her.
Inside of you, each vein embeds itself into your walls, the head jabs at your cervix painfully, and most of all it feels stupidly good. His cock is thick and sturdy like all good dicks should be. And he’s fucking you like he hates you. Which he does. Deep, hard, slow and nasty.
“Is it good, daddy?” Ashley asks innocently enough, her hand rests on your tummy, grows bored and trails lower to flick at your clit.
“Not as good as you, princess, never,” Comes his instant answer. You take offence to this and clench around him so tight he groans and his head drops to your neck, lips on your collarbone. There’s a sticky sound each time he draws his hips back and pushes in, you’re dripping for Ashley, for him— You don’t know anymore, head so clouded you’ve let the incest slip.
“Aw, daddy!” She places a hand over her heart, then she’s back to pinching your clit between her fingers, forcing you to unravel.
His thrusts are deliberate, mean, and he fucks you like it’s all your fault. As if he doesn’t get to hump Ashley at all times of the day. The squelch of your cunt is embarrassing enough for you to be over and done with, each stroke is a hit on your ego and on your cervix, the latter being a more delicious hit, but a hit nonetheless. When he cums, he does it on your stomach in white, watery ropes, and it pools in your belly button as you writhe with the immense pleasure he and his disgusting cock have bought you. Ashley’s bony fingers helped to some degree.
“Is it my turn now?” Ashley perks up when her dad kisses her all sloppy on the mouth, spit and drool included.
“Give daddy a minute, princess, I can’t keep up with you,” He chuckles, pats her head, they’ve started their incestuously affectionate display, so you cover yourself up and shoot Claire a second message while they begin to act lovey-dovey in bed. Let their guard down, and you hate to do this to such a lovely girl, but your girlfriend is an even lovelier girl.
Soon enough, she and the gaggle of reporters burst through the doors, flashing cameras in hand. Ashley was foolish for letting off her security detail for the night, President Kennedy is the bigger fool, and Claire, well, you’ve never seen her smile so big.
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h2llish · 5 months
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【╰ヾ❝ GARDEN ✧„ pt 2
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LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ━━━ leona loves the boy in the garden ♡ fluff, bit angsty, pining, book 2 and 3 mentions, leona is a little insecure and pining hard, male reader, lowercase intended, more lore for reader (wow/s)
fem aligned dni (she/they, she/her, etc)
part 1
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the book leona borrowed from you (and still had yet to give back) began by saying the language of flowers and plants are beautiful, and then it'd go on to list some flowers and their meanings. amaryllis meaning pride; aster is a symbol of love and even daintiness; calla lilies mean beauty. one of those flowers listed is the white carnation, also one of the flowers you had given leona. the white carnation has quite a few meanings, but they all lead to the same thing nonetheless: sweet, innocent love.
if you move through the book a few pages, you'll find the salvia. it goes on to list colors on the flower having their own meanings. the blue salvia has a meaning you've always thought to be more beautiful than the red; i think of you. it was that flower that you gave to leona because it was true, you think about him. he was on your mind even when he laid next to you as you tended to the flowers. he was always there in your thoughts even when you needed to be focused on your task at hand. he owned your mind even though he was completely unaware of it.
and of course, the chrysanthemum; the red chrysanthemum. it was your favorite flower in the way you hated it so much. you told yourself you'd never own another, you'd never plant another, and yet you did anyways. because it was a flower you knew would get your feelings across exactly for its meaning was simple and straightforward; i love you. the same thing you'd only ever wished your mother had told you before she sent you off to live with your aunt. the words your mother told you she'd never utter as you were the reason, she let the magic consume and fog her mind. the words you'd hoped to tell leona yourself even with the flowers in your hands.
i love you, leona. i love you.
but you could not, not when leona hadn't come to the botanical garden for what you realized was half a month. you understood, of course, and it was bad timing on your part. all the dorms, including your own, were busy with preparing for spelldrive. and then there was the mysterious injuries that began to take some of the best players in every dorm by swarm. so, of course, leona was busy and probably couldn't come around to the garden as much as you wished he could. (because you'd admit, you missed seeing him.) so you opted to pay him a visit at his dorm, which quickly changed to just leaving ruggie to deliver your flowers to the prince in hopes that he understood exactly what those flowers meant and what you were trying to say. (he had your book on the meaning of flowers for months then, so you assumed he must at least know some of the meanings for the flowers.)
you paid him a visit a few more times after that but was quickly shooed away by ruggie who always had an excuse. you just wanted a response; because whether it was rejection or not, you needed him to tell you face-to-face. maybe then, you'd finally be able to get over the unfamiliar racing of your heart and the constant thoughts that centered around him.
if leona wanted to talk to you, he knew where to find you. and if he didn't, then you'd just track him down after spelldrive and force him to give you an answer because you didn't like how unfamiliar it was to be waiting so anxiously for a response.
however, what you didn't expect, was to have the prefect from another world suddenly approach your dorm and request the help of your housewarden to stop the culprit behind the mysterious injuries; leona. being a part of heartslabyul, you were expected to aid in the plan as well; you didn't protest, even when you were faced with the feeling of a pit in your stomach and a tightness in your chest as the realization that the man you were in love with was the reason one of your dormmates was injured. (but you still loved him even when that thought was almost painful.)
it was a surprise, to confront the lion and have him admit what he and ruggie were doing. but it was even more of a surprise when you recognized the obvious signs of building blot (something you were all too familiar with even before riddle). watching as ruggie struggled to breath as sand picked up and the air became thin with the grains. leona's signature spell was powerful; you knew that from the time you once asked him about it during your conversations in the botanical garden. you could start to see the effects it began to have on those around you, including yourself. breathing growing short and bit of panic rising in your chest.
but for the lion, leona could never forget the way you looked at him as you wrapped an arm around ruggie and pulled him away. you coughed under the effects of his spell, eyes wide as you stared up at him and━ oh, were you scared of him? the fear in your eyes would probably be unrecognizable to those who couldn't read you, but leona noticed it, and amongst the blot that began to take over, he felt his own self crumble at thought that you were scared of him. (if only he knew it wasn't fear of him, but for him.)
you managed to stop leona just before the blot could consume him whole, much to your relief. and as the blot that took form behind leona released him, you were the only one quick to rush forward to catch him just before the prince could hit the ground. and as he lay unconscious, you held him, so carefully, as if he was another one of your flowers in your garden.
and while ruggie didn't understand flowers, and he didn't understand you or leona, he understood, in that moment, as he watched you hold leona until he regained consciousness, that you loved the prince.
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leona was avoiding you. he knew that, ruggie knew that, you knew that.
leona was avoiding you and he didn't understand why. ━ okay, that's a lie, he knew exactly why. it's because he (and his pride would never admit it) was scared. scared, because after his overblot, he didn't know what you wanted nor how you felt, and he didn't want to face it either. he doesn't think he could handle a rejection from you of all people.
ruggie has voiced his disappointment of the lion on several occasions, not happy that he was sending you away every time you tried to see the prince because leona was too much of a coward to face you. ruggie's had to come up with excuse after excuse just to send you off, and he's running out of reasonable excuses, and he knows you've realized. and while he's said this to leona a number of times, leona still refuses to face you. at one point, ruggie was desperate enough to drag a confused jack over to try and get him to move from his bed.
jack sighed, standing at leona's bedside and apologizing to ruggie, as it was obvious the lion had no intention of moving to go talk to garden boy as ruggie called you. the freshman didn't understand what was going on nor why leona had to talk to the gardener of the botanical garden, but it was obviously important if ruggie was trying so hard to force the lion out of bed.
ruggie groaned, "come on, leona! talk to him!"
leona didn't reply verbally, but the annoyed flick of his tail as he turned his back to the two told them what he was thinking.
"coward." ruggie glared, arms crossed over his chest as an awkward jack stood next to him, a bit caught off guard by the sudden insult thrown towards their housewarden. when ruggie still gained no response, the hyena scoffed, turning away to stomp off, to which jack followed. but ruggie made sure to add just before he shut the door behind him, "i'm not turning him away again!"
leona scoffed, tail flicking aggressively as he stared at the three flowers in a vase, set safely on his desk. (because while he may be avoiding you, the flowers were once a confession, and he preferred to have that if he couldn't have you.)
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everyone has a point where their patience dries, and they can no longer find themselves able to wait for something or someone. and for you, a rather stoic and otherwise patient person, it may take a while before you reach that point, but even you have that moment where you no longer find yourself able to sit still. (and your patience was strong because it had been a month since you last seen him.)
your patience just so happened to run out while at an unbirthday party. you had been in a conversation with trey regarding the science club (and rook's extravagant need to cause poor trey issues by almost blowing up the lab), when you overheard deuce and ace talking. you nodded at whatever trey was saying, but your mind was on the freshman's conversation as you heard them mention savanaclaw and leona.
you learned then that the prefect and grim found themselves staying at savanaclaw because the prefect had signed a contract with azul, putting their dorm on the line because they were trying to get ace, deuce, and grim's freedom back after they had been stupid enough to sign a contract with azul in the first place.
you felt frustration build, grip tightening dangerously on the teacup in your hand and eyes narrowing on the treats in the center of the table. trey noticed your silence, stopping to stare at you as your mood took an uncharacteristic turn. he was caught off guard, after his years of knowing you since you guys met in your first year at nrc, you had never been this expressive, and he couldn't understand what caused the sudden turn in mood (it's not like he knew it was because you overheard the freshman's conversation, nor why that would make you upset.) even if it was a small change in your character, it was enough to cause him concern.
"[name]?" he called.
you blinked, relaxing your grip on your teacup and turning to him with a hum, "yes?"
his brows furrowed, "are you okay?"
you tilted your head, "of course. why do you ask?"
"well━" trey sighed, "nevermind." (he's long since learned you can't be read or understood so easily.)
you nodded, leaning back in your chair and grabbing a treat from the table, biting into it slowly as you stared off in thought, feeling the frustration bubble in your chest again.
you weren't upset because the prefect was staying with leona ━ far from it, actually. you respected the prefect; you fought alongside them twice now. and they often paid you visits at the botanical garden, telling you they enjoyed coming because you made the garden peaceful and it gave them a break from the chaos, (even you were flattered by their words). they were nice and had admittedly become a friend to you.
rather, you were upset because they only mentioned leona. after a month of being turned away by ruggie and hoping for the prince to turn up at the garden, the very mention of leona caused frustration to build and patience to dry.
you were tired of waiting.
you sighed loudly, setting your cup on the table and standing from your seat. you turned to trey, who watched you curiously. with a rather forced calm tone in your voice, you said; "i just remembered i have to take care of something in the botanical garden. it's important. tell riddle i'm sorry."
trey could only nod in his confusion as he watched you take your leave from the maze. it wasn't like you to forget anything regarding plants, let alone the botanical garden. perhaps he'll ask you later, you do seem to be in a hurry.
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you didn't stop for anything on your way to savanaclaw; not when cater tried to ask you where you were going and not when you almost ran into a very confused periwinkle-haired boy upon exiting heartslabyul. you didn't care about the odd looks you received from the students as you entered savanaclaw's mirror, and you had no intention of turning away when you spotted ruggie and jack.
ruggie noticed you quickly, looking a little tense as he seen the out-of-character expression of frustration on your face. when you approached him and the freshman he was talking to, he didn't bother to come up with an excuse (besides, he did warn leona). he pointed over his shoulder and nodded, "i'll show you to his room."
you nodded in return, pleased with his response, "thank you." you glanced at the wolf beastman staring at the two of you in confusion, "sorry to interrupt, jack."
"oh, it's fine." he waved off with a tilt of his head, watching as ruggie led you into the dorm building.
when you reached leona's dorm room, you could hear the familiar sound of a complaining grim. you didn't wait as you immediately pushed the door open, and right away did your eyes meet familiar green (an emerald color that you've always found so pretty to look at).
leona tensed, his grip on the monster's neck loosening. he stared at you, silent as you narrowed your eyes on him. the lion was at a loss as he noticed the frown on your lips and the tilt in your brow. (are you angry? at him? perhaps he should've listened to ruggie.)
the prefect caught onto the tension pretty quickly, grabbing grim, who was about to start complaining again, and quickly approaching ruggie, who was standing behind you in the doorway. you moved out of the way to allow them to pass, yet you remained glaring at leona, who was oddly quiet in the presence of you. the door shut behind you after their exit and the silence between the two of you seemed to thicken.
that is, until your familiar monotone broke it, "you're avoiding me." you stated, taking a step towards the prince. you hardly gave him a moment to respond other than the sound of what might've been the beginning of no, before you continued. "why are you avoiding me?"
leona scoffed (the only noise he could make, as he was unable to muster a response now that he was faced with the boy he had fallen in love with. the boy he had been avoiding because he was under the belief that your feelings had changed after his overblot.)
"leona," you said, rather sternly. (and he liked when you said his name, even if the situation for it wasn't ideal.) "why are you avoiding me? it's been over a month, why━" you went quiet, as if you had lost a bit of your nerve. or perhaps, you were just struck by a thought. you tilted your head and sighed through your nose, "if this is your form of rejection, it's terrible. i'd prefer you'd do it person instead of avoiding me. maybe then i'd feel better, because it... hurts."
oh.
you had gotten closer, your eyes still refusing to leave his even when it became obvious that he was uncomfortable under the sudden interrogation. "why are you avoiding me, leona?"
"i'm not avoiding you." he scowled, believing that would help sell his excuse.
it was your turn to scoff (and he must've noticed how you were so much more expressive around him. how could he not?) "if that's true, then why have you not been to the botanical garden? why have we not had our common banters and conversations? why do you have ruggie send me away with ridiculous excuses? what could possibly excuse this as anything but you avoiding me?"
you waited, expecting an answer from the lion. but leona could say nothing, he couldn't find an excuse that would make sense with his behavior. he was avoiding you; it was that simple.
you sighed, expression relaxing back into its usual monotonous state, finally tearing your eyes away from his. you were quiet as you stared off to the side, and leona still found himself unable to say anything. (did this mean you still held the same feelings for him? had he not driven you away?)
"reject me."
what?
"what?" leona asked, almost harshly.
you looked back at him, head tilting as you repeated your words, "reject me and i'll leave you alone. i'd feel better if you rejected me now, to my face, then continue to avoid me. reject me." you were stern and stoic as you spoke, but leona still noticed how you clenched your dorm uniform in your fists, and how your eyes were staring to gloss the more you spoke. "tell me my feelings are unrequited. that the flowers were thrown away and that you didn't enjoy the time we spent in the botanical garden. reject me."
leona knew it wasn't fair for him to feel angry at your words. he's the reason you're standing in front of him, asking the prince to reject you since that did seem to be the impression he gave after avoiding you for so long. yet he couldn't help but glare at you, who remained unwavering as you stared right back at him, eyes glossed with unshed tears the longer you waited.
leona knew he shouldn't find you so wonderful to look at, even as the air around you was thick in tension and the tightness in your chests were unknowingly shared between the two of you. you always managed to look amazing to him, even now, and even when you were covered in dirt after tending to the botanical garden.
he shifted in place and your eyes caught sight of familiar colors almost hidden behind the rectangular lamp on his desk. blue salvia, white carnation, and red chrysanthemum.
you sighed, relieved as you met his eyes again. yet more firm in your next words. "you can't, can you?"
"why are you even here?" leona couldn't help but ask, scowling at you (fake, you could tell).
"because i love you." you answered, simple and straightforward, like the red chrysanthemum. leona faltered in his persona, the forced scowl on his face turning into that of a frown, ears twitching as he searched your face. (for what, he didn't know.) you shook your head, eyes flickering between his own, frowning at him in return, "have you really not realized that? i love you ━ even after you've avoided me. i don't think my feelings even faltered. they're stronger now."
you raised a hand towards his face, but paused, "i was scared, you know?" leona glanced between you and your hand, the unfamiliar racing of his heart so loud he wondered if you heard it. "i thought we wouldn't be able to save you. i though i'd lose you."
your hand was on his face now, fingers gentle as you traced his cheek, and leona had to refrain from leaning into you. this was new. the feelings you stirred in him was new, but he didn't reject it; he couldn't, not when he began to rely on them while he was avoiding you.
"please, leona," you said, rather softly, expression gentle compared to the monotone expression you always carried around anyone else. "let me love you."
leona knows he's fallen in love with the boy from the garden, and he knows now, that he loves him too.
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pt2. i actually really like how this turned out although this wasn't exatly my vision lol.
i think leona is a neat character to write for. he's seen as lazy and prideful (and yeah, he is) but a lot of the time, people fail to realize that that isn't his whole person.
he's the second born in a royal family, and that itself is reason enough to not be the biggest fan of his status. the second is always seen as second best because their older sibling, is well, older. they're the one taking the throne and what is the second born going to do? nothing, because they can't have the throne after the first born, that goes to the first's born child once they step down.
he spent his whole life being looked down on by the servants in his own kingdom because he just didn't fit up to expectations. he would hear everything, all the whispers and the insults, yet he did nothing except take it. and naturally that would make anyone feel insecure. i know i would if i was in his place; hearing people whisper about me being nothing compared to my older brother?? that's harsh, especially since he was still a child while hearing all this. what do you think all those harsh words will do to a child's psyche? absolutely destroy it.
so yeah, i think he's insecure. his entire life and talent is seen as second best; even in nrc when standing alongside the heir of briar alley he still isn't first. so of course, that would fuck with someone's already shaky psyche of viewing yourself as nothing more than second place. i also think this really plays into why he's still in nrc despite being intelligent and magically talented. riddle couldn't collar him because his magic was so strong and he's as cunning as he is smart so that begs the question why hasn't he graduated? i think it's because he doesn't want to go home any more than he already has to when it comes to holiday breaks or when cheka pays him visits. he'd rather stay in nrc, where he can keep up appearances and avoid hearing the whispers in the hall. (and plus, they already look down on him, what's failing a few years going to do? it can't get any worse.)
so when it comes to gaining romantic feelings for someone and someone gaining romantic feelings for him, i don't think he'd know what to do. in his mind he's second place, that's all he'll ever be, yet he entertains the thought of being someone's first choice. and when he is, he's unsure. can he really be someone's first choice? can he really be seen as anything more than the second-best category he spent his whole life in?
it's why i wrote the reader the way i did. he loves leona and he's willing to prove that to him by pushing past his own trauma to show leona that "yes, i love you. i pick you. i want you." and leona doesn't know how to react to this to confession so he chooses to avoid him, scared he's seen he's never someone's first and that the reader's feelings have changed. but when the reader shows up in front of him, showing a part of himself that he's never shown to anyone else and admitting to leona that his feelings haven't changed and he's still in love with him, probably even more despite leona avoiding him, leona has to accept that reader chose him, that he loves him.
in other words, i just think he's neat.
i'm done rambling now lol :")
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