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#and it's going to be something she'll have to work through again.

pinkyqil · 2 days

Text

I'm sorry

Lucy bronze x ona batlle x r

Summary: childhood bestfriend to lovers to strangers

Warning: just toxic bestfriend, jealousy issues to many spelling mistakes for me too care for at this point in life

You and Lucy had always been together 24/7 has you both grew-up together like the childhood friends you're. Never letting go of one another. Always following each other, most people would think that you both were together.

"You've always felt attracted to lucy. Because of the way she treats you, always taking care of you getting the stuff she knows you'll need and most of all dealing with your massive sassy princess attitude.

Back in 2020 where she played for Manchester city around the covid out-break. You both decided to moving in together, always needing each other's company. After a while of living with lucy she finally confessed her feelings which you felt the same way.

Making you both finally official has most of your friends have been anticipating the moment.

You and lucy relationship had been going amazing. a little fights here and there but nothing to serious that would go way too far. Until she announced that she'll be leaving to play for Barcelona meaning you'll both have to do long distance until she comes for break or international duties.

Which you were okay with until now you've both been arguing way more recently all you ever wanted was for her to make more time on her busy schedule but she couldn't has they've been having game after game. Making you upset which would start random yelling match from the phone's.

"Another yelling match". said ona

lucy and ona had gotten really close for the past months. that she been playing for barca has she was found by her in the locker room crying from one of your arguments. Since then they've both gotten really close

"Yeah it just getting way worse and I don't think I know what to do".lucy said

"lucia I think we both know what you need to do" replied ona.

"but ona you know I can't I love her too much to do that she's been through everything with me all I want is to is too fix the holes in our relationship but nothing seems to work".

"I know but you can't keep pushing it like that do what best for both of you". ona told her while holding her hands.

That night you got a call from lucy which you weren't expecting.

cause it would have been really late for lucy which meant she was definitely up thinking about something but what she told you honestly couldn't comprehend.

She was breaking up with you over the phone from 1,137.96 kilometers away from each other that night you cried your heart out from the heavy feelings to now feeling empty.

You lost the love of your life the person that made you smile gave you whatever you needed that assisted you without asking you lost her.

And now feeling broken pices that no one could ever pick up again you hated this banging pain.

It been months since you're break up with lucy some people could've seen it from a distance but other's likewise.

it came shocking to both families who were sure that you both would have worked it out and get married in the future.

But they were wrong cause now she was with ona.

Ona is a pure soul nothing compare to you. you've tried hating her but couldn't the girl was way to nice for her own sake everyone around her loved her which you couldn't get that much what was so special about her but not you.

The last time you saw Lucy was around her vist back to england but instead of as lover you both we're now mere strangers who were once deeply inlove.

A/n : this has honestly sleeping in my drafts for the longest of time and I just got it done there's probably a lot of mistakes cause it wasn't proof read yet but other than that hope y'all enjoy this and don't forget that my request are open

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radioisntdead · 13 hours

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Just thought about this, but could I request a platonic ask with the Hazbin Crew (or just Charlie and Vaggie) with a frankenstein-esque sinner reader? Stitches all over their limbs, mismatched and it’s a common sight to see their limbs falling off their body and they only sigh before picking it back up?

They’re very nice, just tired and getting fed up/disgruntled with their own body and how it’s scarred, mismatched and always falling apart.

Good evening my dear! I wasn't too sure how to make this into a full oneshot so I made it into headcanons hopefully that's alright!

I actually have a OC very similar to this however she's a ragdoll so taking inspo from that

Hazbin hotel x gn! reader [platonic]

Warnings:

Limbs falling off, Alastor stealing arms

The first time they witnessed you lose a limb it freaked the majority of them out [Alastor only widened his grin because he's creepy like that]

The lot of you were just hanging out and doing a trust fall exercise and poor Sir Pentious was the one to catch you, he was not expecting your limb to just come straight off, like he was holding you and your arm was beside you on the floor.

And you just causally sighed and wiggled out of a panicking Sir Pentious's arms and grabbed your arm grumbling about having to sew it back on.

I imagine you may have to sometimes reinforce certain parts because sometimes you just go running and SNAP the stitches on your leg becomes undone and your face meets the ground.

There's a sewing kit almost anywhere in the hotel for you to use in emergencies,

Niffty is skilled with sewing so I imagine if you let her and don't mind getting stabbed a couple times she'd sew you right up in mere seconds, I imagine if you don't mind melding fabric to your skin she'll sew on fabrics with pretty patterns on, maybe it'll make you feel better about your loose limbs.

Angel dust LOVES coming up with nicknames for you, Frankie, Patches, Frankenstein's long lost child, patchwork, ragdoll etc etc

I'm gonna be honest Alastor probably tries to munch on your fallen limbs, I can see him grabbing your fallen arm and booking it out of there while you chase after him yelling for Vaggie to do something.

Vaggie gets your limbs back

Going off the fabrics if your okay with that going on your skin Charlie definitely buys some for you as a surprise, she'll ask Vaggie on whether or not she thinks you'd like a certain fabric patch.

I think having a bunch of patches gifted to you by loved ones is a nice thought, we adapt habits, traits, mannerisms etc etc from people we love and the people that love us sometimes adapt our habits, traits, mannerisms etc etc from us, we're a lovely mashup of ourselves and the people we love.

I imagine Sir Pentious would build something to help keep your limbs together, like a brace or a prosthetic covering of sorts?

Alastor gives you a patch and it's just arm themed, he probably steals your limbs like five times in a week,

"DAMN IT AL, THAT'S THE FIFTH TIME THIS WEEK STOP."

"no"

You have to get Vaggie to help you retrieve your limbs before Alastor makes your arm into an arm pot pie or something.

Husk would help you with carrying anything super heavy, particularly if it's alcohol because he is NOT risking your arms ripping off and no more drunky tipsy times [I can't legally drink I don't know how it works and I don't wanna know.]

Whenever Charlie asks for a hand and your arm has been detached you hand her your arm, freaks her out for a second before she's just like "Haha very funny please don't do that again"

Charlie definitely works on making sure your comfortable in the hotel, if you're ever insecure about your scars she'll take a pen or something and doodle around them.

Honestly Charlie probably thinks your mismatched patches look cool and you remind her of a plushie she had as a child,

If your filled with cotton like a plushie do expect hugs.

Good evening folks! I am making my way through requests! Plus the part two to Too sweet and Eldritch horror reader's backstory [EVIL LAUGHING] will be out soon!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel

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prettyboykatsuki · 11 hours

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✮ tags ; gn!reader, sock(?) fetish...? it's like foot fetish adjacent i guess and but she is wearing frilly socks, dirty talk, established relationship, implicit nsfw but nothing happens, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.4k (WTF LOL)

✮ a/n ; don't mind me. going through something. this is miserably self-indulgent but it's ochako so i figured you've guessed that

Ochako would never applaud your subtlety.

If she's playing devils advocate, she'd say that you're not usually trying to be very subtle anyway. Between the two of you, she's the shy one. Most of your firsts have been as a result of your personality - sufficiently anti-social but smug and forthcoming when you need to be.

She was the one to coax you into actually asking her out, since you weren't sure she'd be happy with someone like you. But the confessing and kissing and having sex are all a result of your brusque honesty and inability to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Usually, if there's something you want, you'll just ask her. She'll get on your case out of embarrassment often enough - but she loves you and she loves being praised. If there's some particularly perverted fantasy you want to act out with her, well... she can do it with a little bribing.

You're not much for hints, but you are good at hiding things. Usually. You managed to plan an anniversary trip completely in advance even with her hectic hero schedule which is something to be commended.

But it's rare, in any case, to see you be uncertain about something. It's not like you just stare at her and not say anything. She'll challenge you about that tendency often and you always smirk so sly and say what you think.

She's never really seen you act like this. She doesn't know what to make of it.

She thinks she would've known by now if you had some kind of foot fetish at least.

You've been staring at her legs all day to start with, but she noticed about an hour ago that your eyes kept drifting to her feet. You've had sex enough times for her to know what you like and you've never really shown any special appreciation towards them other than a kiss or rub. It's tender and intimate, but it doesn't feel rooted in the lust of a fetish.

It's the fifth or sixth time in the last hour you've looked over the edge of your laptop screen and traced her legs. It's hard to notice when you've been doing it so often.

"What are you staring so hard at?"

You startle at the confrontation, even though you weren't engrossed in your work. It's subtle, your eyes widening just a touch before going back to the screen unfocused.

"Uh," You sound...awkward. And a little nervous. It's a little unusual for her, since you're a difficult person to truly embarrass. "Nothing really."

She pouts at you. "You're a bad liar. You've looked at me so many times today. At my feet," She says, leaning back on the couch with her legs completely spread. You do it again and look away just as quickly. "Did you gain a foot fetish over night?"

When you don't respond right way, her eyes open wide. She looks at you as you turn your head - suddenly sheepish. "...Did you really?"

You shake your head, trying to find the words to explain. You open your mouth only to close it again, rubbing your temple as if finding the words is stressing you out.

Now she's really confused.

"It's not a foot fetish, necessarily? It has to do with," You swallow something in the back of your throat. "...with what you're wearing. I guess?"

"What I'm wearing?" She looks down her legs and looks at the socks she's wearing - brand new and frilly. All white lace bunched at the cuff and white cotton down to the toes with a little pink bow on the back, She lifts her legs up and points her foot out. "These?"

Your face flushes like a deer caught in headlights and Ochako feels herself jolt in surprise before a smile breaks out on her face. It's hard to hold in her laughter, though she's not laughing at you as much as she is your reaction.

"Don't laugh at me,"

"I'm not, I'm not," She assures, giggling to herself. "It's just... of all the perverted stuff you ask me to do, this is what gets you?"

You cover your face partially with your hand, forcing yourself not to look down or around. "It's a little weird even for me."

She hums. "I don't think it's weird," Slowly, she pulls her knees up close to her chest, arms hugging her legs glancing down at her feet "I'm just not sure what you like about it."

You stare again, at her legs then at her feet. You're a distance away but you scoot in a little closer - your hands reaching out just far enough to touch the frill around the cuff. Your eyes go lidded, pressing the lacy material between your fingers.

"It's pretty." You say first. There's a shift in the air that makes her breath hitch though you haven't said or implied anything lewd at all. Really haven't touched her either, which makes her blush. You have the effect on her, or something. "It's girly and cute and looks nice on you. Plus you have toned legs so it suits you. I like the way they match with your pajamas, too."

The sudden wave of praise makes Ochako shiver. She buries her face in her arms, frowning - skin prickling with heat. "Jeez. You're so simple."

She moves herself. Instead of her seat opposite the couch, she crawls down to where you sit on the floor and pushes the coffee table away from you. Barely glancing at your laptop, she shuts it and sits in front of you instead - occupying the space between you suddenly. You glance at her, surprised, before laugh again.

She leans back on her palms, pulling her legs up and placing both of her socked feet on your chest. Her back is supported only by the sturdy chestnut table she moved out of the way to sit. Your hand rests on her calves - right where her ankle extends. Your thumb rubs the bare skin. Her face grows hotter, air thick with tension.

"You have more to say, right?" A bid for attention. You nod your head. "Then say it,"

"It's kind of dirty," You hum. Ochako can feel her heart rate start to tick up as your hand slides down to be over the tops of her feet. You look down at where she's placed them on your chest so affectionately she can already feel the dull pulse start between her legs. "But I always think about what they look like when they're the last things left on you."

She makes a face at you. You crook your neck to kiss just the outside, right at the toe of her socks. It makes her blush more than she expects and that makes you laugh. Your voice is thick, genuine desire making her want to keen a little. She wants you spoil her, but you already know that.

"Like," You pretend to think, locking eyes with her. She doesn't know if she could get more red, but she feels she does. "If I were to strip you down to everything but these, that'd look really lewd right? It's like that."

"Is that what you want to do?"

You nod at her easily. "Seeing you bent over the side of the couch , on the tips of your toes. Or maybe laying on your stomach with your legs up so I can fuck you more properly. It's a nice image, I thought."

She pouts at you, almost perpetually - shoving a foot against your cheek as she does. You laugh at her as she does.

"You're such a pervert."

"Sorry." Your voice is warm and tender but not really all that apologetic. She huffs, turning your head to one side.

"It can't be helped, then." She says, one eyes closed and cheeky. You laugh at her good-naturedly.

"What a good girl you are, Ochako-chan,"

She feels her heart flutter, positioning herself to sit on her knees so she can kiss you. Her hands support her in front, arms wrapped around your neck as she flutters her lashes. "The best?"

You hum, pressing a hot kiss to her jaw. "The best. Let me see more of you, okay?"

"Okay," She huffs, a little annoyed by how easy she is. "I don't mind keeping the socks on."

"Good girl." You praise again, throaty and just barely thick. "My very good girl."

Ochako doesn't mind your lack of subtlety, she thinks. The throbbing between her legs is enough to prove she likes when you're very, very forward.

#ochako x reader #bnha x reader #this isn't smut really but its nt fluff either fdbfjskd #writing tag #feet cw #i feel insane and this was inevitable

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commsroom · 1 year

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eiffel returning to earth and encountering people and places and things that he's known so closely for years - that some part of him might even instinctively feel he should recognize - but without the ability to consciously remember them vs. lovelace returning to earth and seeing all those familiar things and knowing them, and knowing how they've changed in her absence, but being unable to shake the part of her that keeps telling her she's seeing them for the first time. how both of these could be used as an exploration of trauma, and returning to a place (that hasn't changed at all; that's changed too much) that you no longer fit into; that rubs up against the changed shape of your life in raw and uncomfortable places.

#wolf 359 #w359 #doug eiffel #isabel lovelace #not quite sure how to articulate this but. mm.#eiffel having burnt his bridges before he ever left vs. lovelace's family already having mourned her ... hm.#i'm going to keep saying if eiffel gets his memory back it should be through an Eiffel Version of change of mind #i'm never going to be able to tell that story the way i want it to be told but it makes so much sense to me.#and there's a lot i think you could tell in a post-canon story about how. being on earth is going to add new angles to personal issues #they thought they'd mostly resolved. ie. minkowski's identity as commander is something she's learning to let go of by the finale #but once they get back to earth? she's going to feel responsible for eiffel and hera #and it's going to be something she'll have to work through again.#and determine who she is to them and how she fits into their lives #and whatever happens with koudelka... it's been a long time and she's a different person. it's complicated.#and i won't even start talking about hera here because that's an infinite can of worms. they are all really going to need each other

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heich0e · 2 months

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"sukuna!"

the itadori house is quiet as the call rings out through the narrow halls.

"SU-KU-NA!"

a door somewhere in the apartment flies open, and heavy footfalls land against the floor.

"what the hell are you yelling for?" the elder of the two itadori brothers turns the corner into the living room, sweatpants low on his hips and his chest bare. his glower is fixed upon his little brother, seated with his legs crossed in the centre of the sofa, a throw pillow cradled on his lap.

yuuji pouts.

"i'm bored."

"i'm gonna kick your ass," sukuna mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"wanna go see a movie?" yuuji asks him, his eyes bright with expectation.

"no," sukuna replies flatly.

"what, why?" yuuji complains.

"last time we went to the movies on a friday night we were surrounded by teenagers sucking face for two fuckin' hours,"—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—"i'm not spending my night off watching some seventeen year old snots trying not to cream their jeans just cause they've got a tongue in their mouth for the first time again."

yuuji grimaces a little, both at the memory and his brother's less than enticing use of imagery.

"but i'm bored," yuuji sighs, flopping down onto the sofa with the pillow hugged to his chest.

"so you've said." sukuna lifts an eyebrow. "where's your little minion tonight? lose track of her or something?"

"she's not my minion," yuuji points out.

"co-conspirator then," sukuna rolls his eyes.

yuuji huffs. "she's not answering my calls. i bet she fell asleep after she got home from class."

"still surprised the two of you don't have some kind of weird telepathy goin' on considering how much time the two of you spend together," sukuna drawls. "try tappin' into that. maybe she'll pick up."

yuuji's stares at his brother for a moment, a pensive furrow on his brow.

it's quiet.

sukuna smirks. "gettin' anything?"

yuuji's expression relaxes again, and he slumps further into the sofa. he sighs resignedly. "nothing."

the younger itadori brother surveys the elder for a moment, and sukuna crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

"why are you all sweaty?"

"just got back from a run," sukuna replies curtly.

"you're wasting your night off running?" yuuji asks skeptically.

"yeah, and now i plan on jerking off, taking a shower, and going the fuck to bed—what's it to you?" the elder snaps.

yuuji's nose wrinkles at his brother's crass remark.

"gross," the youngest mutters.

there's the muffled sound of a cell phone chiming somewhere in the room, and yuuji hastens to free the device from the front pocket of his hoodie. his eyes light up when he sees the notification on the screen, hopping up to his feet.

"fushiguro just got off work early and said he'd go to the movies with me!" he cheers excitedly. sukuna rolls his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm as he watches him dash across the living room towards the genkan, clumsily pulling on his sneakers and tugging a cross-body bag over his chest.

"y'know, if you run the whole way there you'll look too eager," sukuna singsongs from where he leans against the wall on the other side of the room. even from such a distance away he can see the blush that paints the tops of his baby brother's cheeks.

"shut up!" yuuji replies, reaching for the doorknob.

"try not to cream your—!" the front door slams behind him before sukuna can finish his remark.

the eldest itadori chuckles a little to himself, shaking his head at his little brother's antics. he reaches up and ruffles the hair at the nape of his neck.

"what would you have done if we really did have a telepathic connection?"

sukuna pauses, his hand still brushing through the back of his hair. he turns to glance down the hallway behind him, only to find you—dressed only in his hoodie, the same one that matches the sweatpants he has on—standing behind him with your hands on your hips.

he smirks a little at the sight, appreciating it for a moment.

"surprised you made it all the way out here," he remarks, his head tilting to the side. "those legs were pretty shaky a couple minutes ago."

"shut up," you mumble, turning your nose up at him indignantly.

"how come everyone's always tellin' me to shut up?" sukuna complains, slinking towards you. he tugs you forward into him by the pocket of his hoodie, his arms snaking around your waist.

"maybe because you deserve it," you remark smugly.

"now is that any way to talk to the guy who just let you cum on his face?" he asks, dipping down until he's nose to nose with you. he watches the way your eyelids flutter a little at his sudden proximity. feels the way your breath breaks on his lips.

"no, but it's the way to talk to the guy who left me right after to go talk about jerking off with his brother," you reply, but it lacks the bite he knows you're aiming for—too breathless to have any real sting.

"aw, were you lonely?" sukuna drawls, inching closer until his smirking mouth is right over yours—close enough to feel the soft, wet heat that radiates from it. practically close enough to taste it.

you shiver a little bit, your facade of indifference fracturing under his nearness. sukuna's smirk splits into a full-blown grin, and before you can even blink he's got you tossed over his shoulder as he carries you back towards his bedroom.

"sukuna! put me down!" you protest, wiggling in his grip. the tips of his fingers dig into the soft give of your bare thighs, keeping you still.

"no can do, kid," he replies easily, ignoring your complaints.

he kicks his bedroom door closed behind him with his heel, and tosses you down onto the rumpled sheets of his bed. you bounce slightly as you land, but eventually settle, leaving you to you stare up at him, your chest heaving, from the mattress below him. he leans over and crawls into his bed overtop of you.

"we've got two hours to kill before he comes back, y'know," sukuna says quietly, dragging his lips up along the edge of your jaw. "how should we pass the time?"

#big brother!sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing

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ssahotchnerr · 3 months

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GIRL 👏🏻 DAD 👏🏻 AARON 👏🏻 learning how to do his wife’s hair so he can do baby girls hair when she’s grown

uncharted territory

YOU'RE 👏🏻 SO 👏🏻 RIGHT 👏🏻 cw; girl dad!aaron, fem!reader, some small suggestiveness, fluff <3

"can i braid your hair?"

you looked at aaron as your book dropped onto your lap, both a bit bewildered and astonished, "can you what?"

"braid your hair." the expression adorned on his face was almost troubled as he approached you, and rather shyly at that, actually.

"that's what i thought you said." your eyebrow quirked, displaying a caring and soft confusion. "why?"

"jus' something penelope said today, it made me realize that i don't know how to do hair. never had the need to learn with jack." the grumpiness on his face didn't falter, a small huff escaping him. "i know she doesn't have much of it now, but i don't want to be one of those dads who attempt to do their daughter's hair, it's a phenomenal disaster, and it looked better off before i even touched it. i refuse to send her off somewhere someday looking like she went through a windstorm."

"aaron, honey, i don't think you're capable of anything too disastrous." you teased gently, but with full reassurance.

he almost smiled, the ends of his lips tugging upwards, but evidently he wasn't fully convinced. "so can i? i need the practice, desperately."

"of course," you nodded, scooting towards the center of the bed and sitting cross-legged, aaron seated behind you.

once situated, he took your hair gingerly into his hands, "how do i..."

"you're going to want to separate it into three sections," you started, pausing to let him do so. "kinda gather it like a ponytail to get started."

"okay, that i've done before."

"yeah, you're good at that." you rolled your eyes, a faint blush tinting your cheeks and you could easily picture the smirk that was definitely plastered on aaron's face. "you good?"

"i think so."

"take the right side, and cross it over the middle section." you instructed, again giving him a small window of time to weave your hair gently. "then do the same on the left, the right section should have switched places with the middle."

"mhm." aaron hummed gently in confirmation, biting down softly onto his lip in concentration, crossing the left section over the now center.

"and just repeat down, alternating as you just did."

"that's it?"

"that's literally it."

aaron repeated the cycle, braiding with ease. "and i'm not hurting you? am i pulling-"

"no no no, you're completely fine." you reached a bit behind, your hand finding his knee and giving it a comforting squeeze. "keep going."

although it was a simple braid, his fingers nearly got tangled a few times, due to the size of said fingers and the limited, slightly tight space that came along with braiding. he also tugged your head back and forth a small amount, but you followed the direction of his gentle pulls. as he worked silently, your heart could only swell at his genuine concern and want to learn - just for your little girl.

once he reached the end of your braid, you tore off the hair tie that was conveniently around your wrist. "secure with this."

aaron was quick learner in nature; he watched you intently as you pulled your braid over your shoulder to inspect it quickly. it was a bit loose, a tad crooked, but the gist of it was there - almost perfect.

you peered behind at him, thoroughly impressed. "not bad."

"really?" aaron asked surprisingly, but with an utterly pleased expression.

"but don't get too cocky," you narrowed your eyebrows playfully, swiveling to face him. "this is the easy one to master. there's french braids, dutch, fishtail. one day she'll want one braid, maybe two the next. trust me, it's bound to get way more complicated than this."

the proud gleam in his eyes faded a bit as his face blanched, pulling into a pained expression, deadpanning. "you're kidding."

"but don't worry, we have plenty of time."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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inkskinned · 1 year

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she says he won't let her get a dog, which is fine, because they're in an apartment, and that's the kind of thing people say about their partners. he won't let me get a dog. and you're at a dinner party and you tilt your head a little to the side just like that dog he won't let her get, because is this the thing that's going to upset you? you don't know every corner of their relationship, she could be joking, they could have had so many healthy conversations about the dog, right, and maybe she's not letting herself get the dog because of money and time and whatever. but, like, she did say let

and she wants to move away from his hometown and he wants to stay and then he tells you with a wink and a conspiratorial stage whisper don't worry i'll convince her and she laughs about it - so clearly this is something they laugh about. but you do just stand there and stare at him like what the fuck, man. you can't say what you want to say which is why do you get the final say on everything because they're both obviously aware of the other person's stance on this and have obviously had private conversations about it and what are you going to do about it except make a scene and then he'll be mad at you and call you one of those bitches behind your back and she'll cut you off, which is a loss that doesn't feel worth it just because he makes you a little skeeved out every 3rd comment

and they both agree he just isn't the type to get flowers which is fine because everyone shows love differently, and are you really gonna judge someone based on their sense of individual relationship responsibility? maybe he's constantly cleaning her car and writing her poems and making her furniture or something. maybe she doesn't even like flowers and this is perfect, actually. and no you couldn't date him, obviously, ew; but like, she tells you she's happy. you almost send her a tiktok that says don't be 25 and the cool girl that doesn't need anything, you'll hate not getting flowers at 30, but that's like, starting drama & you shouldn't start drama needlessly.

and you're a little older than her but not so much older you can pull the whole trust me on this one babe thing and besides that wouldn't have worked anyway (when does it ever) and besides you have trauma so you and your therapist both agree that you're always looking for a problem even when there isn't one. and you tell yourself that just because you see them for 15 minutes every month does not mean you can identify every single red flag based on a single shitty half-joking(?) comment

and besides, what are you going to do? she says i actually wanted another stand mixer but thankfully he stops me when i'm about to spend too much money and you're standing there like are you okay? is this normal? is this just something people say? and again - what are you going to do?

to your therapist you try to language it - it's not, like, any of my business. but sometimes, doesn't it feel like - you should do something. there's got to be something, right? you've tried dropping little hints but they sail right through and you've tried having a single serious conversation and she got upset because why does it matter to you, yes it's different but we're happy, it doesn't need to make sense to you and you're like. really unwilling to push a boundary about it anymore; because the truth is that you know logically it shouldn't matter to you, as long as both parties are happy.

and besides, you've been wrong before. it's just... like, every time you see them both, something else happens, some kind of shiver down your spine like do you even hear each other when you talk. it's their strange, bickering orbit. just the way he's on his phone through dinner or watching sports instead of helping in the kitchen or, fuck, another one of these little throwaway comments he makes about we'll see about that, babe. she laughs when he calls her passions stupid shit and meanwhile she gets him tickets to see the knicks and he tells you well at least she's smart about something and still! it's none of your business.

you say get the dog anyway and she laughs. like, this is is you being funny. and not you saying - no really. get the dog. get the dog and get out of here. pack up and start running.

#this btw is not including toxic friendships this is legit just something ive experienced MANY times now #writeblr #you ever have a friend in one of those relationships where ur like #u don't HATE their partner explicitly #but ur like. what the fuck y'all #like the weird part of being an adult is that you can't be like . CERTAIN their relationship is toxic #and also if u move too fast or push too hard u can hurt someone who is already in a scary situation so you just are like #frozen there. laughing awkwardly. saying ''haha..... yeah..... couldn't be me....''#and like u can't tell - is this banter or does he actually think like. he's better than her.#all you can do is be there for your friend and hope they wake up to it #or ... that it really IS good #and it's just odd to you #tbh btw id rather have my friends feel safe coming to me if they have a concern about my relationship #like yes it's not ur business but it also IS bc im making u hang out with them and also ur my friend #it's a weird thing to experience as an adult bc it is such a blurry line and when u spend time #around couples that aren't like ACTUALLY ur friends but instead ''extended friend circle'' ur like #.... i don't know y'all well enough and he just called you a cow. and ur okay with that . and i don't know how to respond.#so ur like :) okay. um. go to couple's counselling i think #but also you are NOT supposed to pass judgement so it's like.... this weird limbo of feeling like you SHOULD say something #but knowing you CANNOT #idk that there's a way to resolve it!!!!!!!! it's probably a different approach person to person #edited my tags bc tumblr's new system fucked em up #PS EDIT: btw i should have said:#the pronouns in this can work in any and every direction. every gender and every sexuality and every #type of relationship tbh. even non-romantic relationships where ur like ''what do u mean ur bff calls u stupid''

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viviennevermillion · 9 months

Text

When they want attention

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: spontaneous idea. gonna get to my request once i'm done with the 7k words jing yuan commission i received so look forward to that, the jing yuan stans are getting fed. dan heng has his dragon form in this one.

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: still into you — paramore

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, sampo, yaoshi

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none

The former Xianzhou craftsman was mysterious in many different ways but one thing you knew for sure was that he was way too scarred and emotionally stunted to just go ahead and ask you for your attention and love. He does sometimes but it's only on days when he's been doing particularly bad and his mara-struck self has been coming through more and he feels like your touch is the only thing keeping him grounded. He'd sneak up to you and quietly ask whether you'd mind to just hold him for a while. You never mind. But on regular days?

When Blade is just touch-starved and wants attention, he doesn't even initiate it. The only reason you notice is because he doesn't leave your side even though you're busy and working. He just keeps sitting close to you and staring at you from the side as if he wants something but when you ask him if he needs anything, he shakes his head and says it's important that you focus on your work.

It takes you a while to realize what's up with him. But when you eventually put your work aside for a moment to open your arms to him, he melts into your embrace and you can hear him let out a relieved sigh once he feels your warmth and gentle touch.

Sometimes you dare tease him about it. "Seems you just wanted my love. You know you can have that whenever you want, right?", you chuckle and kiss his temple. Blade chooses not to comment on it and to just keep enjoying your affection.

Kafka can also always tell when he's needy for attention and feels free to inform you when that's the case. She'll stand in the door to your room and gently knocks on the door frame. You look up to her with a questioning look. "Your boyfriend is cranky again. Do something about it", she says with a slight smile on her face. Blade readily accepts your affection when you seek him out after that, melting into your kiss and smiling against your lips. Just don't tell him Kafka sent you.

Honestly Dan Heng's sudden transformation was a lot to get used to for everyone on the Astral Express but you in particular now had to deal with his dragon instincts when he wanted your affection. Usually he suppresses them but when he's tired he doesn't always stop himself from getting a little clingy.

You had to admit that this new side to him was quite amusing. Sometimes you'd be working until late at night and Dan Heng would just gently bonk you with his head from the side to get your affection.

Oftentimes he'd wrap his arms around you from behind and nuzzles your neck for a while. Usually when he's very, very sleep-deprived. You'll feel his breath on your neck and his lips leaving quick pecks on your skin repeatedly. Sometimes you'll lightly feel his tongue against your neck too when he kisses you there. He has his face buried in your neck now and it doesn't look like he's leaving anytime soon.

He purrs now. The first time you hear this your eyes widen and you slow-blink for a bit, having to do a double take that you're not imagining this. You don't even dare point it out to him. Not when he's being this cute. So you just accept it and kiss his lips first before pressing them to each of his horns, resulting in Dan Heng trying to snuggle even closer. You suppress a chuckle and start gently caressing the tail he apparently slapped into your lap for you to play with.

He apologizes later for getting a little too clingy there but he smiles when you shake your head and reassure him you quite enjoyed him being this affectionate. He might do this more often now, seeing how much it makes you swoon and how happy it seems to make you.

Unlike Dan Heng and Blade, Sampo shamelessly asks for your attention everytime he craves it. He's very overdramatic about it too. He wraps his arms around your shoulders from behind while you're working and kisses your cheek repeatedly to ease you into the idea of leaving your work just standing around and tending to your touch-starved boyfriend. "Honey...", he coos and kisses the spot below your ear repeatedly, "you see, Sampo Koski has had a very rough day. First I had to run from the Silvermane Guards again, then my bag broke and all my relics fell into the dirt and then it started to rain and a client threw a fish at me and told me to die." You roll your eyes, your eyes falling on his bag, standing perfectly fine in the corner of the room.

"What I really mean to say is I could really use some love right now", he looks down with an obviously fake sad expression and wipes a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye, "my heart is broken and I'm not sure it will ever recover."

If you indulge him, he'll happily take up all the space in your arms and just lets you pamper him for a while. If you push him away and insist that you need to focus here, he starts kicking the sob story up a notch. "Pretty please", he whines and takes your hands into his, "you see, as a child my parents never told me they loved me-" "Ugh, Sampo", you let out a frustrated sigh. If you look into his eyes and tell him in all seriousness that you'd really like to finish your work first, he concedes but usually you're too amused with him to not at least give in a little.

"Okay fine, you get 10 minutes but then I really need to continue my work", you open your arms for him and 10 minutes quickly turn into 20 or 30. You muse that you can still do your work tomorrow.

If you're not a clingy person, I advise you to not indulge Yaoshi and reciprocate their feelings because while they respect the things you care about and are passionate about and would never want to make you angry at them, they're very high-maintenance when it comes to receiving affection. Yaoshi always backs off when you tell them to but internally they also want affection constantly.

If you thought Sampo was overly clingy, Yaoshi is a whole new brand of desperate. I mean, they could have shaken our hand or patted us on the head upon meeting us, but no, they chose to go straight for the lips and this is a pattern that carries through even after getting together with you.

Yaoshi won't just ask if you have some time to spare for them, Yaoshi will straight up plant themselves onto your lap and attempt to make out with you. Sometimes they're successful, sometimes they aren't.

In general the fact that there is a time and place for passionate kissing is something that Yaoshi needs to learn. You'll be in public and they'll try this and you tell them that you can do this later. Yaoshi waits until you're in a different public location and then asks again whether this is now a suitable place to kiss you. Don't even give them one kiss in public. Don't give them an inch, they'll attempt to take a mile. They listen when you tell them this isn't the time or place for kisses but if you give them a quick peck to the lips, in their mind, which is very much not adjusted to societal norms, this means "okay so now is the time for kisses" so they'll try to give you more kisses.

When you tell them you have work to do, Yaoshi asks you when they can expect you to be done with your work. "About 2-3 hours", you tell them and pat their head gently. Yaoshi nods and disappears. A couple of minutes later you can smell something burnt from the other room. "Yaoshi?", you call out worried, checking up on them.

You find them holding your burning alarm clock in both of their hands. "My dearest, I was trying to 'set an alarm' as you always do", they have a sad expression on their face and a tear runs down their cheek, "it seems I have accidentally vanquished your strange little nightingale. I hope you can forgive me one day."

"What were you even trying to set an alarm for?" Yaoshi looks up at you. "You said you'd be done in 2-3 hours."

You let out a sigh and caress their cheek gently. "We can buy a new one and I'll show you how to use it", you shake your head, wondering what you expected from dating a literal god who usually spends their time on a different plane of existence, "but we should probably get rid of this one."

Yaoshi obliges and the alarm clock is gone in an instant. "It is in a better place now", they explain. You decide you don't have the mental energy right now for the discussion that would result from asking what exactly 'a better place' is. For now you let Yaoshi sit or lay down on your lap while you do the rest of your work, your fingertips gently drawing circles onto their shoulders.

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

Text

Injured IV

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Olga has the baby

Mami and Olga get pregnant a few months after your discussion. Olga moves in full time too and you get to be very helpful and do things like give her food or cuddle her on the sofa.

She gets very round very quickly and that confuses you until Mami points out it's because Olga's growing your baby brother or sister. Olga cries a lot too and everyone blames that on hormones but can't actually really give you an explanation about what hormones are so you're not entirely sure why but giving her cuddles and kisses seems to make her not cry as much so you do that.

Soon enough though, the crying stops and she can move around properly again because she's had your baby brother.

He's kind of ugly, you think when you first see him. He's all red and wrinkly and he cries all the time. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night because he's crying and look through the gap between your door and the frame to see Mami and Olga get up to soothe him.

He's named after Abuelo, who you've never met because he died before you were born. Baby Jaume is alright sometimes when he's quiet and when he first came home, Mami took a lot of pictures of your holding him and put most of them up in the house somewhere.

Jaume was fun to have at the start. He did silly things like not being able to hold up his head or puke all down Tia Alba's back when they first met.

Now though, the allure of Jaume has dimmed a little.

He's just there now, just another person in your life that you didn't quite understand.

"There he is," Mami coos as soon as she comes in the door, arms already out to pick up the baby.

Something icky makes your tummy hurt when she picks him and completely bypasses you on her way to the kitchen where Olga's cleaning up from lunch.

You hadn't eaten much, just a few bites of your sandwich, but Jaume had spit up some of his milk again so Olga was washing everything again.

You wait a little bit for Mami to notice her mistake, to notice you, but she doesn't. You can hear her laughing in the kitchen with Olga and Jaume.

You look back at your trains, dropping them as you wedge yourself under the coffee table.

Maybe when Mami can't find you anywhere, she'll notice you again.

The carpet is a little rough under your cheek but you're determined to stay where you are so Mami can find you like she did when you were much littler.

She never does though because you lay there for a long while.

Jaume is crying again. You can hear him and that makes you not want to leave your hidey hole either. Everyone goes to Jaume if he cries even if Mami is already holding him.

He cries and he cries and he cries and you cry too, hidden under the table as you wait for Mami to come find you.

You wished that she wanted to see you as much as she wanted to see Jaume. She's always smiling at him and giving him kisses and cuddles.

You get your bedtime kiss at the end of the day but that's it. Mami's busy at work and Olga's busy with Jaume and you wish you weren't here anymore.

You sniffle, more tears rolling down your cheeks even as Jaume's stop.

Mami and Olga are talking at him, you can hear them. They talk to Jaume a lot even though he can't talk back. You wished they'd talk to you more.

Sometimes, if Jaume is very good, Mami will sit with you and read you a bedtime story. If Jaume isn't very good, she sends you to bed without one because it's more important that Jaume learns to be good instead of reading you your bedtime story.

Like today.

You know you won't get a bedtime story today because all Jaume seems to do is cry.

You don't see Mami much the day after too. She goes to training before you wake up and you spend most of the day at nursery so you don't see her when she comes home for lunch too.

You don't go to nursery a lot, especially not now that Jaume is born but you go often enough that Mami and Olga shouldn't forget you.

But they do.

You sit in the office, fighting back tears as the woman hurriedly goes through everyone in your contact book. Mami and Olga have never been late to pick you up before.

You clutch a picture in your hand. You did painting today and you did one of you and Mami and Olga and baby Jaume. You want to show Mami and Olga and put it up on the fridge when you get home but the sky is getting darker and you're still waiting for someone to collect you.

Your bottom lip wobbles and you start to cry.

You're good at crying quietly now. One time you started to cry loudly at the same time as Jaume and Mami yelled at you. She apologised afterwards, saying that she was stressed and sorry but you haven't cried loudly since.

You're still crying when the door opens.

You wish it was Mami or even Miss Olga but it's not.

Tia Alba pulls you into a hug.

"We couldn't get in contact with Alexia or Olga," The reception woman says solemnly.

"Right, yes," Tia Alba says, shaking her head," I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm sure there was just a miscommunication. I'll sort it out."

Tia Alba drives you home but it's dark.

There's no Mami or Miss Olga waiting for you.

"I...I drew a picture," You say softly, holding it up for Tia Alba to see," The teacher said to draw a picture of our families, so I did."

"It's beautiful, bambi," Tia Alba assures you," Very pretty. Shall we put it on the fridge?"

The fridge is different now. It used to be full of a lot of your paintings but it's mostly bare now. There's a big picture of Miss Olga and Mami at the very centre with baby Jaume a few hours after he was born.

Tia Alba hands you a magnet and you put your picture on the side of the fridge, away from the picture.

"When is my Mami coming home?" You ask.

"Soon," Tia Alba says though she glances uncertainly at the door," Hey, how about we play with your new trains?"

You shake your head. "I don't have new trains."

"What? Of course you do! Your Mami gets you a new train every week!"

You shake your head again. "Mami's busy now. I've got my old trains. Are we still allowed to play even if it's with my old ones?"

"Of course, bambi. Why don't you set up the track?"

You do so gladly and wait for Tia Alba as she speaks quickly into the phone. She turns on the tv for background noise as you both play a train game, loading and unloading resources into the back and making them zoom across the track.

There's a Barcelona match playing.

Mami plays for Barcelona. It's the very end and the team is celebrating, holding up a trophy and cheering. Mami's got the trophy in one hand and baby Jaume in the other.

"Mami isn't coming home soon," You say plainly, staring at the tv as someone takes a picture of Jaume sitting in the cup.

"Bambi-"

You look back at your trains. "I...I don't want my painting up on the fridge anymore."

"Are you sure, bambi? I'm sure your Mami will be very happy to see it there."

Mami is on the screen again, smiling with Miss Olga and baby Jaume.

"I don't want the picture anymore," You say, getting up and pushing away your trains," You should put it in the bin, Tia."

"Are you sure?" Tia Alba takes it down from the fridge and gives it to you. "But it's so pretty."

You rip it straight down the middle. "It's not real." You shut yourself in your room, pushing as many of your things behind it so Alba can't get in.

She can't get you to come out either, no matter what she promises or how much she begs. She had been getting ready for a night out with her friends when she'd got the call from your nursery teacher saying that no one had come to pick you up.

She had assumed that Alexia and Olga were running late until there had been an update on the Barcelona Instagram proclaiming that the team were meeting their youngest teammate.

You'd been withdrawn the moment she saw you. The most excited you got was when showing her your drawing and even calling that excitement was pushing it.

You'd been on the verge of shutting down for a while now but Alba can't even get into the room you've barricaded and it's all so much worse.

"Alba?" Alexia says in amusement," Why are you sitting on the floor?"

It's been hours since you originally hidden yourself away in your room. You've put yourself to bed with no bath and no dinner and Alba just sees red.

The last time she put hands on Alexia was when they were kids and Alexia had thrown her favourite playdoh colour over the fence. She could probably count the days it's been since an actual physical fight but the counter goes back down to zero the moment she shoves Alexia against the wall.

"You selfish fuck!" She says," God, I thought you were better than this!"

"Hey! Get off! What the hell?! I haven't done anything!"

"Exactly! You haven't done anything! I hope you're happy! I hope showing off your son and winning trophies is worth it!"

"Alba, what are you going on about? Are you drunk? Get off!"

"Because you're never seeing that little girl again!"

Alexia freezes like someone's just injected ice into her veins. She looks around Alba's head. Your bedroom is door shut.

"What are you talking about? Bambi? You can't take Bambi!"

"Oh, so you do know who she is? I'd say better late than never but I don't think it really applies!"

Alexia's confused. "What's going on? What's wrong with Bambi?"

"God." Alba bursts into uncontrollable laughter. "Have you always been this stupid? What's wrong with Bambi? How about you ask where Bambi was all day? Where was Bambi while you were showing Jaume off to your team and winning another stupid medal?"

Alexia thinks it over for a moment. "Oh."

"Oh," Alba mocks, face twisting up into a sneer as she shoves Alexia back into the wall again," She drew you a picture today, you know. You and her and Olga and Jaume."

"I..."

"Don't bother trying to look for it. She says that it's a lie and I can see why."

"Get off!" Alexia shoves her back, going to turn your door handle but it just won't open. She swears. She'd taught you how to put your chair under the handle in case an intruder ever broke in and how to push all of your belongings up against it in case the chair ever fell.

She knocks on the door.

"Bambi? Bambi, baby, open the door."

There's no answer and she knocks louder.

"Bambi! Come on. Open the door for Mami. I'm...I'm really excited to see your picture. Why don't we put it on the fridge, huh? Wouldn't that be fun?"

There's still nothing and Alexia feels herself grow a bit more desperate when Olga comes around the corner with Jaume.

"What's going on?" She asks.

Alexia can't answer as she slams her fist against your door, rattling the door handle.

"I'll be back tomorrow at midday," Alba says to Olga," Make sure she's got overnight clothes packed."

Alexia can't even hear her, desperate to force the door open.

"Bambi, please!"

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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moonchildstyles · 9 days

Note

gravity blurb where one day flower is sick and doesn’t show up to physics & she hadnt told harry she wouldn’t be coming to class and isnt answering her texts so he skips class to come make sure shes ok and take care of her ?? :,)

wordcount: 3.9k+

—————

Peeling her eyes open, (Y/N) winced at the stream of sunlight filtering into her room. She could feel a cold sweat on the back of her neck, her baby hairs sticking to her skin. Her bed was too hot but her body felt cold, the sun too bright in her eyes, and the quiet of the television on the other side of her wall entirely too loud.

The headache she'd fallen asleep with had definitely taken a turn, she figured.

Groaning—something that made her realize her throat was now sore as well—she tossed in her bed, reaching towards the offending curtain and attempting to tug it closed. Her limbs ached with every move, her bones seemingly creaking beneath the exhausted muscle. If not for how much she hated the light in her eyes and was already hot enough without the sun on her face, she would have given up on the mission just from how much her body ached.

In the back of her mind, as she flopped back onto her bed, she knew she had classes today. If she had the mind to do so, she would have checked the time, seeing just how long she had to get ready before she would have to be on her way, but there was no way she was going to force herself to open her eyes once more after the reprieve of closing them.

She should probably text Harry, she thought. If she remembered what day it was, she most likely had physics this afternoon, and there was no way she was going to make it in this state.

Despite how close her phone was, the idea of reaching for it on the side table was enough to have her exhausted again. She could sleep a little before texting him, she figured, turning in her bed with her eyes heavily shut. She'd wake up soon, and if she still feels this rough, she'll let him know she wouldn't make it to class today.

Just a couple more hours.

With that though, (Y/N) fell asleep once more.

—————

With an iced matcha in one hand and a hot black coffee in the other, Harry made it to Stanfill's class to be one of the first in the auditorium—right on schedule.

He nodded a small smile towards the professor, scaling the stairs up to his and (Y/N)'s unofficial-official spots. He had a feeling she would be traipsing in just before Stanfill locked the door for lecture. She hadn't texted him at all this morning—something she never did unless she was more than busy.

There was a high chance she'd spent the majority of last night working on an essay she had due tonight, and, if he knew his flower, she most likely skipped her morning classes in favor of sleeping off the late night. As long as she made it to physics, he'd make sure to make up the rest of the day for her.

Taking his time to set up his station, Harry periodically checked the double doors (Y/N) usually came through, waiting to see a familiar flash of her hair or one of the many sweaters she'd begun stealing from him through the last months. He pretended to fiddle with his highlighters and notebooks as if he wasn't disappointed when every swing of the doors revealed everyone but (Y/N).

It wasn't until Stanfill had wheeled out his projector and the auditorium was full of idle chatter and the shuffling of students that Harry became concerned. Though she cut it close at times, (Y/N) was never late for any of her courses—and she would let him know if something came up.

That worry only intensified when he saw Professor Stanfill crossed the room and spun the lock on the double doors while the seat beside Harry stayed empty.

Despite his professor whirring to life at the head of the room, speaking with his robotic dialect about today's concept, Harry pulled out his phone. He anticipated seeing a missed message from (Y/N), something to indicate that there was a reason she'd had to skip for the day. Instead, he saw nothing—only the Lock Screen of the pair of them together, tucked in a booth at Wanda's.

No missed calls or waiting messages.

Pulling open her text thread as quick as he could without attracting Stanfill's attention, Harry typed out a quick message before firing it off:

Hey, love. Class started and you're not here, I wanted to see if everything was alright. Stanfill locked the doors, but I can sneak you in if you need.

While he wasn't sure if he was expecting any kind of response when he hadn't heard from her today anyway, Harry's shoulders still fell when the read receipt was left on delivered.

Glancing up, he saw the slides at the front of the class beginning to shift, showing off decades old formatting from Stanfilll's archives. Harry felt antsy.

He wanted to focus on the lecture, continue formatting and adding to his pristine notes, but there was no way he could settle down at the moment.

(Y/N) never did this. While it wasn't odd that she was too busy with her morning courses to reach out to him, there was no way she wouldn't have let him know if she wasn't going to be in class.

Fitting his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry's worry grew.

There were plenty of reasons why she wouldn't be able to reach out, if he let his brain branch out that far. For all he knew, there were plenty of terrible reasons why she wasn't answering her phone or in class with him. It was enough to have him biting down hard on his lip and tapping his foot on the floor.

He could text her again, he decided. Just another to possibly grab her attention. Just from the amount of times he'd studied with her, she could have lost herself in an essay at the library.

Maybe.

Just as he began to type out a follow up message in his unanswered thread, a monotone voice echoed through the room, calling his name.

"Mr. Styles, is there something more important than today's lecture on your cell phone you would like to share with the class? I think we would all be interested."

Whipping his head up, glasses sliding down his nose, Harry spotted the eyes of his classmates and his professor trained on him. He wanted to be embarrassed, feeling all of that attention when he hadn't asked for it himself.

But, there were more important things on his mind.

"No thank you, sir," Harry mumbled, just loud enough for his professor to hear, "I actually have to leave for an emergency. Sorry to interrupt."

Shoveling all of his things into his bag, Harry didn't linger in the space, ignoring whatever Stanfill was saying in his monotone syllables. Stepping out into the main corridor, his phone was up to his ear in an instant.

"Hello?" Naomi, (Y/N)'s roommate, greeted.

"Hi, Ny," Harry muttered, heading towards the student lot he'd parked in, "Is (Y/N) home? Or with you?"

"Oh, yeah," Naomi chirped, "I stayed home with her after I checked on her this morning. She's been a little bit out of it, but did she ask you if you could bring home some notes for her?"

Harry stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, a pinch to his brow. "What?"

A beat passed.

"Have you talked to her today?" Ny asked, finally.

"No. I texted her this morning, but I figured she was busy. Our physics class jus' started, and she never came, so..."

"I'm sorry," she said, "She was out of it this morning, but she said she was going to call you later, so I didn't ask after she fell asleep again. But, she's sick—she fell asleep with a headache and woke up with a fever. She's been asleep most of the day, but I think she's got the flu or something."

Naomi's explanation tamped down one section of Harry's worries, only to raise another. His steps became paces, his free hand running through his hair.

"Is she okay?" he asked, already picturing her prone form alone in her bed, pale and withering.

"I think so," Ny shared, a drawling muse to her voice, "She hasn't left her room much, but I've checked on her when I can. She doesn't really have a voice, but as long as she keeps on top of her medicine, she's able to break her fever and sleep."

Curling his fingers around the roots of his curls, he looked to his feet. "Do—Is there—Does she need anything?"

Ny sighed through the receiver. "I've been trying to make her eat, but nothing sounds good or she just wants to sleep instead."

"Okay," he sounded, nodding his head despite Naomi being unable to see him, "Okay, I can do that. I-I don't have any of our notes, but I can bring her some food if that's okay. Do—Would she be alright with me coming by?"

This time, when she spoke, Harry could hear a smile in her voice, "I think she'd really like that, Harry. I don't know if she'll make any good conversation today, but I'm sure she'll be happy to see you anyway."

A plan was beginning to stitch together then, for Harry. He had some soup he could make at home and bring to her apartment—something warm and not too heavy if she needed something easy for the time being. Was there anything he needed to pick up before he headed over? He was sure there was an extra fluffy blanket she wouldn't mind adding to the collection on her bed.

"Okay," Harry repeated once more, "I've got to grab a couple of things, but I can be over in a few hours if that's alright."

"That's perfect," Naomi encouraged him, "Just text me when you're here and I can let you in. I'll let (Y/N) know to give you a call when she wakes up—if she can, anyway."

While he didn't enjoy hearing that his flower might feel too weak to even place a short call to him, Harry felt soothed knowing that while he was worried about her illness, she had Naomi there to take care of her.

Their goodbyes were quick, Harry already going through the recipe for the soup he had in mind for her, a list coming together for his quick stop at the shops.

Beelining to his car, he typed out a quick message before he was swept up in his plans.

Just called Naomi. She told me you're sick, and have been sleeping this morning. I'm coming by with some soup and medicine for you, flower. I'm sorry I didn't realize, but I'll see you soon.

Love you so much.

He didn't think twice before he pulled out of the student parking lot, Stanfill's lecture and his missed notes left behind.

—————

The apartment was quiet when Ny let him in, Harry suddenly cautious of the crinkling of his bag.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice low to match the volume of the television in the living room, "Thanks for letting me up."

"Oh, yeah, of course," Naomi smiled, locking the door behind him while he kicked off his shoes, "Do you need help with any of your stuff?"

Following her eyes to the bag in his hand, he held a swift debate in his head. While he didn't want to ask anything more of (Y/N)'s roommate after invading her home and pestering her about (Y/N), he also didn't really want to stay away for much longer.

"Actually," he started, taking out the Tupperware container of soup he'd tossed together back at his own place before heading over, "Would y'heat this up, please? Jus' on the stove, or whatever's easiest for you."

Naomi's features softened as she took the container from Harry's hands. "Yeah, I can do that," she smiled, "This is for (Y/N)?"

"Yeah," he murmured, rubbing his knuckle against the tip of his nose, "'S my mum's recipe—she used to make it when I was little and sick from school."

An exaggerated pout crossed Naomi's face, her expression creased and warm as she looked up at Harry with her fingers around the container as if it were a velvet box of jewels. "That is so sweet, Harry," she bubbled, "She's going to love this."

"I hope," he laughed, inching towards the hallway where (Y/N)'s door awaited, "Let me know if y'need help or anything."

Ny only waved him off, urging him to her friend's room while she padded through the kitchen.

Hyper aware of the plastic bag on his wrist, Harry carefully made his way into (Y/N)'s bedroom. The space was silent as he crossed the threshold, her curtains cinched tightly shut with a pile of blankets covering the bed. A tissue box was placed on her bedside table next to a half finished bottle of water and her charging phone. While he couldn't spot her through her cocoon of quilts, he could hear a slight wheezing with every breath she took.

"(Y/N)?" he murmured, voice just above a whisper as he slowly approached her bedside.

No response.

"(Y/N), love?" he tried again, spotting her head through the layers of blankets as he drew closer. Even in sleep, she looked tired, eyes heavy with circles underneath and her mouth dropped in a gape. Given the pile of tissues at her bedside, he wasn't surprised to catch the sides of her nose looking chapped.

Instead of another attempt at catching her attention, he settled for unpacking his bag of treats for her, including a soft stuffed cow he hoped she could find comfort in. A reup of her medicine bottle was placed on her table, a nasal stick to help clear her sinuses with a sniff of the menthol scent, and a bottle of cranberry juice in hopes of giving her some vitamin C. When she woke, he'd show her what he brought, but in the meantime he'd settle for climbing in beside her.

(Y/N) didn't even stir when he cuddled in at her side, body above the blankets though he still fit his limbs around her form. As much as he hated hearing the wheeze of her lungs, and the slight shivers that still ran down her spine despite her cocoon, there was a layer of relief having her back in his arms. He hadn't realized how worried he'd been back in the lecture hall until he could now see she was just fine—albeit a bit sniffly and fighting an off-and-on fever. A tension in his muscles had evaporated by the time he had her cradled into him as best he could through the downy blankets.

He'd have to text Naomi that (Y/N) was still sleeping, the soup could wait. He'd give himself a moment first, though.

—————

"(Y/N), flower, are y'waking up?"

Feeling her features twist, annoyed and hurt that someone would shout so close to her ear like that, (Y/N) only clenched her eyes shut tighter.

A breathy laugh followed right after, filling the quiet of her head with something a little sweeter, even if it was uninvited.

Whatever it was that was bothering her, she chose to ignore it, instead rolling under her blankets and giving them her back. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to get the hint, instead running a hand through her tangled hair, coaxing her to stay awake despite her best efforts.

"You've been asleep for a while, love. I want y'to wake up and at least take some medicine," the soothing force tried again, tone matching their gentle touch, "I even brought y'some soup, if y'wanted to eat."

The idea of exerting the kind of energy required to eat was enough to have (Y/N)'s body feeling heavy, sinking into the mattress. "Don't want to."

"I know," he crooned, the velvet of the faceless voice finally conjuring up a vision of a bespectacled Harry. (Y/N) wanted to shift, see what cardigan he had on today, but there was no way she could roll over again. She didn't have that kind of energy. "Naomi said y'haven't eaten since this morning, flower. I think you'll feel a little better if you at least have a bowl."

"No," she whined, shaking her head as she attempted to burrow that much deeper on her blanket cave. "You're being too loud, Harry."

Another plume of laughter sounded in her room, though it wasn't quite as uninvited as before, now knowing it was from her boyfriend.

"Okay," he relented, voice decidedly softer than just a moment before, "We'll eat a little later, but you've got to take some medicine. I brought something that should help clear your nose out, too."

(Y/N) hadn't even realized she wasn't able to breathe out of her nose until he mentioned that, her throat suddenly dry along with her lips. Through her sleep-addled, fever-drenched brain, she could only imagine just how long she'd been fast asleep with her mouth wide open, only worsening the swollen throat she'd woken up with.

The idea of a small reprieve was enough to have her tossing under her blankets to face him. Peeling her eyes open, Harry was crouched at her bedside, gentle smile on his face with a dreamy vignette framed around him.

"Morning," he teased, "I missed you today."

"Sorry," she croaked, leaning into the warmth of his hand when he pressed his palm to her forehead. She pretended not to notice when he cringed back after a moment.

"Don't need to be sorry," he murmured, a pinch settling between his brows as he reached towards a pill bottle on her table, "'M sorry y'don't feel good, flower. What happened?"

"I don't know," she said, voice slow and drawling even to her own ears, "I thought I had a migraine last night, and then I woke up this morning, and yeah."

Despite promising to stay awake long enough to take some medicine and sniff whatever it was that would clear her sinuses, the longer Harry fiddled with the bottle, the more of an opportunity she had to sleep instead. He'd wake her if he needed her, she decided.

"Don't go to sleep, (Y/N)."

She frowned at his scolding.

"Don't make that face, love," he laughed, "Sit up for me."

Her frown only deepened.

If he said anything more in response, she didn't hear him. Instead she felt the mattress dip around her, Harry crawling up beside her.

Slipping an arm underneath her, he helped her shift under the pile of blankets shrouding her form. (Y/N) let out a whine, unhappy with being moved from the wam imprint she'd left in her bedding.

"Don't be like that, flower," he mused, "Jus' want to help you—your fever is making me nervous."

Instead of giving any kind of answer, (Y/N) only twisted in his arms, cuddling up to the warmth of his chest. She turned into him, shedding some layers of blanket only to lean into his warmth that much more. He hooked his arm around her middle, supporting her with his forearm around her back and his hand conforming to the dip of her waist. Laying her head on his shoulder, she curled her hands into the knit of his top. If he had planned on climbing out after helping with her medicine, that was definitely no longer an option with the way she clung to him.

"Here," he offered, prompting her to crack open her eyes once more to see a pair of coated pills in his hand for her, "I've got some water for you, too."

There was a concerted amount of effort that came with lifting her hand to take the medicine from him, enough to have Harry squeezing his arm around her when he saw how much concentration it took.

As soon as she popped the pills in her mouth, Harry passed along the bottle of water he had at his side, unable to keep himself from helping her hold the weight after seeing her previous struggle. She chugged down the rest of the bottle then, realizing just how thirsty she was, her breathing coming out in pants by the time she pulled the container from her mouth.

"Want more?" he asked, reaching for another bottle he had positioned on the bedside table.

"No, no," she shook her head, already slumping against him once more with shuttered eyes, "Tired."

This time he didn't laugh or seem amused at all at her mumbling. Harry only tugged her tighter to his side, his free hand pulling up one of her blankets to cover her up to her shoulder. "I know, flower," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "Y'sure y'don't want to eat right now?"

"Just want to sleep," she said, shaking her head against his shoulder.

"Go to sleep, love," he crooned, "I'll be here when y'wake up."

Though it wasn't hard to stay asleep, it was hard for (Y/N) to fall asleep with the ache in her body and the pressure in her head. She needed an extra push, something to lull her to the edge.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, hoping Harry would unwittingly put her to sleep with the melody of his voice.

"Only a few hours," he told her, shifting until she was laid atop his chest as he reclined into the pile of pillows behind them, "After y'didn't come to Stanfill's, I called Naomi."

"In the middle of class?" she blanched, attempting to picture Harry being so disruptive in the middle of lecture.

She felt his laugh more than heard it, rumbling from his chest underneath her. "No, I stepped out before I called."

"And he let you go back in?"

Flexing his hand on her waist, she could feel him shake his head before planting a kiss to the crown of hers. The vibrations of his voice accompanied by the soft of his touch was already working on her, distracting from the ache in her muscles enough to stretch closer to the edge of sleep. "I don't know—I didn't really stay to find out."

"Wait," (Y/N) drawled, her features pinching, "Did you skip?"

"I suppose y'could call it that; I did go, I jus' left early."

"Harry," she whined, elongating the syllables of his name, "Why would you do that? You love physics."

"Because," he started, an affectionate current to his tone, "I wanted to see you. I was worried about you, love. You've never jus' disappeared on me before like that—I wanted to make sure y'were alright."

"But," she attempted to fight, though she didn't have much organization to her thoughts, "It's physics."

"I know," he crooned, a smile audible in his voice, "And you're you. I can make up the notes another day, but I can't make up another day with you, can I?"

It was a sweet sentiment, enough to have her softening that much more. If she'd had the energy, she may have cried, instead opting to burrow closer to him.

"I love you," she blubbered, her words barely decipherable given her thick throat.

"I love you too, flower," he reciprocated, tender notes to his voice, "Go to sleep, I've got you."

That was all the permission she needed to drift off, no doubt that Harry would keep his promise.

Maybe it was the medicine beginning to kick in or the warmth of Harry's hold, but (Y/N) swore she might already be beginning to feel better.

—————

thank you so much for requesting nad taking the time to read this! So sorry if theres any mistakes I missed!!! if theres any ideas or requests you have pleaseeeee send them in :)

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moncherellie · 6 months

Text

𓆩⚝˚‧no room for the holy spirit ♱꙳˚₊‧

a/n: finally it's here! been screaming into the void abt this one for... ever. a thousand thank yous to @thirsting-over-women who proofread this for me :>> my savior actually. if the religious themes offend you (whether you are religious or have trauma) i encourage you not to read, maybe check out my other works instead :D

content/warnings: 4,500 words, preachers daughter!ellie x fem!reader, nsfw, reader wears a skirt, semipublic/car sex, fingering, oral (r receiving), reader's first wlw experience, sexual awakening?, religious motif, christian themes, mild religious guilt throughout, mentions of religious homophobia, internalized homophobia, ellie smokes a lil, she's a bit mean, fuckin in a church parking lot

The pressures of being a teenage girl were hard enough without the pressures of being a gay teenage girl. Being a gay teenage girl was hard enough without the pressures of being the daughter of a fucking preacher. Ellie had never really bought into the whole 'organized religion' thing, ever the skeptic. Even as a puny 8-year-old, she asked why she had to wake up early every Sunday for something she didn't even like doing. Her attitude didn't change much after that, but her parents got stricter and stricter in an attempt to control her sacrilege. She didn't spend much time with her family, instead seeking familial bonds at school, especially with her mechanics teacher, Mr. Miller. But, you know what they say:

Strict parents raise sneaky children.

And it's true. If Ellie's dad knew what she was doing outside the holy walls of the ministry, he'd have an aneurysm and have her exorcised. But, she always thought, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

You were the opposite. Raised the same as Ellie, you took to religion and fully participated, though mostly out of obligation. Just go every week for an hour and your family will leave you alone. This tactic, for the most part, worked. Your traditional family had their rough moments, specifically when they mocked the outfits you'd wanted to wear to service and called you some... unsavory names. But if you could avoid any similar incident, any clash with authority, you were taking the holy road.

On the outside, you were the purest of people. There was never a bad or dirty thought in your mind. You were a pillar of the community, someone that parents pointed out to their kids. "Be like them," they'd say. Your parents were proud, so you should've been proud. Should've.

You and Ellie had grown up quite close due to being in similar social groups and seeing each other every week at service. Since then, you'd grown apart as you took different paths in life, though you still felt a sense of commitment toward her; So when she cursed out her father in front of the clergy, your eyes widened.

"You fucking dick! You don't know shit about anything! You use all this- this... bullshit- as a crutch so you don't have to own up to your own baggage!"

As she stormed out, you silently move from your spot in the choir, doe eyes shining in the bath of stained glass light, and shuffle up to the front of the room.

"Father, if I may, I would like to go check on your daughter." You're a model fixture, a saint.

"Of course, my child. I hope someday she'll be more like you. I pray that-" You shuffle off again, not wanting to hear about how he wishes his daughter was different. He really wishes his child hid who she was, you think bitterly. You admired Ellie's rebellion, though you'd never say it, and you wished you were as strong as her.

You walk away from the church to the little park you and Ellie used to go to. Your memories flood with nostalgia for simpler times, and you smile to yourself, pleasantly strolling through the large trees and foliage and looking for the rough girl. You find her crouching against a tree, squatting with her head between her legs.

Is she crying?

"... Ellie? Are you alright?" You whisper, not wanting to startle her.

You notice Ellie tense up before quickly standing up and whipping around to face you, a hand behind her back. "Oh! It's... you. Hey. Aren't you s'posed to be inside?"

"Yeah, but I just wanted to check on you. That was intense in there."

"Mhm, I'm good. Just needed some, ah, fresh air. Y'know?" She sounds a little too jolly, weirdly chipper. It's suspicious.

"Uh-huh," you say, unconvinced. "Whatcha got there?" You point to whatever she's trying to conceal.

She knows she's been caught. Her attitude suddenly shifts from faux-innocence to her usual snarky persona as she rolls her eyes, leaning against the tree and revealing what she had. She brings her hand up to her lips. "Nothing."

"Ellie!" You shriek. "You can't do that! Where'd you even get a cigarette?"

She laughs as if you'd said the funniest thing imaginable. "You think this is a cigarette? Are you stupid? No offense. But are you stupid?"

You scoff. "No! I mean, you're smoking it. What else am I supposed to guess?"

"A blunt, idiot. Kush. Mary Jane. Weed. Ma-ri-jua-na." She spells out for you like you're a toddler.

You cross your arms defensively. "Okay, I know what weed is, smart guy. You still shouldn't have it. Where's it from?"

"Stole it. I just wanted to see why people liked it so much. They say it relieves stress, and I think yes." Ellie grins lazily, eyes lidded. "I got another. You want?"

The answer to your question only makes you freak out more. "No! And you stole?! You stole? Oh my goodness, Ellie, you're gonna get us thrown in jail or something!"

Ellie wordlessly watches your breakdown, eyes red and amused, the corner of her mouth turned up. "Relax, man, it's barely illegal. Who's calling the cops for a single gram? Don't be lame like that."

"Lame?" You scoff. "Are you a first grader? Ellie, it's against the law, you could go to prison. And it's not juvie anymore, you're gonna go to real jail!" Your hands flail around wildly as you explain the repercussions of her actions.

"Jail..." She rolls her eyes.

"Yes, jail! That's kinda what happens when you steal something, Ellie!" The high-pitched, prissy tone with which you said her name was starting to annoy her, but the way you looked when flustered was intriguing. Maybe in another context, she'd enjoy hearing her name fall from your lips.

Ellie takes another hit, looking up at you. She tilts her head, asking if you're being serious. "Jail? Over a single blunt? Who cares that much?"

You gasp when you realize: "I'm an accomplice!"

"You're not an accessory just because you're here." She chuckles as the wind blows past and carries her smoke near your head as you duck dramatically and swat away the smoke. She looks at you for a moment, slightly smiling. Her green eyes meet yours briefly before turning her attention back to the joint.

"Why are you using it anyway? It smells rancid."

"Already told you. I wanna know why people do it. It relieves stress and I'm plenty stressed. Plus, I look dope as shit with it, right?" Ellie leans against the tree, and a small part of you wants to say yeah, you do. "You should try it. Maybe get that stick out of your ass."

"You're gonna get addicted."

"God, it's just this once. What are you gonna do, tell my dad?" She chuckles to herself, taking a long drag.

She checks you out, head to toe, examining the flowy fabrics and neat hair and the Mary Jane shoes that drive her crazy. Who wears those? Her gaze returns to meet yours, and she looks utterly dumbfounded by you. Your eyebrows furrow as you see how her expression changes. "What's that look for?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "I dunno. You're just so robotic. It's like you never think about stepping the teensiest bit out of line. It's creepy. You've never had an independent thought in your life. Have you ever done anything even remotely rebellious?"

You make a noise that seems to say Well why would I? "No! Of course not! And you shouldn't either, I mean look at your dad, he's-"

Her voice raises, a tone you've never heard and don't care to hear again. "-My father? You mean the preacher?" She mocks. "What about him? You don't know anything about my father." Ellie's look hardens, eyes steely and mouth pursed into a thin line. It's a look you've seen maybe twice before, both in much more tense situations. Her voice says that you can't change her mind. You don't care to try. Whatever she's referencing, you believe her.

"Okay. Okay... sorry." You say gently, losing the defensive energy you'd held a moment ago. Ellie sighs and takes an irritated puff. To relax, you think.

"And you always apologize. It's so weird. You need to loosen up a bit." Another long, somehow sarcastic hit. "What's the worst thing you've *ever* done?"

An embarrassing, very private thought crosses your mind. You obviously can't tell her what you think about at night- you're barely able to admit to yourself that you have such impure thoughts. Instead, you shake your head. "Can't- I can't think of anything."

You watch her forest green eyes roll up, then down. It's a very familiar expression on her. "Thought so." She grins up at you, and you look away into the treeline nervously. "Do you wanna try something fun?"

"Is it... illegal?"

"No. Don't worry about that." She motions for you to come closer, so you take a tentative step forward, eyeing her like a wild animal. She hates the way you look at her, making her feel alien. Just because she lives authentically. It makes her want to ruin you, to have you stoop down to her level. Then maybe you won't look at her as if she were extraterrestrial.

You need an attitude adjustment, you need to chill the fuck out, you needed to get fucked, and hard. Ellie thinks she can help you with that.

She grins that toothy smirk as she watches you step closer, taking a puff and placing the blunt between her slender fingers. She doesn't miss the way your eyes trail the two long fingers that hold it. You wonder if she's doing this on purpose.

Ellie backs you up against a tree, and you recognize is as the same old oak that you would climb with her as kids. The branches and bark have left scars on you that Ellie helped you heal. She wonders how they look now.

Your back hits the trunk with an unceremonious thump, and you startle. Ellie keeps walking toward you, now getting uncomfortably close. "Uh- so what are we..." You trail off, thinking she'll explain what she's doing right in your face. She doesn't.

Her arm raises, trapping you between the tree and her body as she studies you. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin, but feels incredibly electric at the same time- it's a sensation you've only felt around her, though you don't know why. She takes another hit and you nervously look away.

She tilts your jaw back to look at her. You have to face her pretty green eyes, unwavering as she stares you down, while you sneak glances just to check if she's still there. Your breath speeds up when she leans closer.

Ellie puts her stupid pink slightly chapped adorable smiling lips near the base of your neck.

"What are you doing?" You say breathlessly. You swear that you feel her ghosting over your skin, so close, yet not as close as you want her. Maybe if you lean in...

Before you can, she breathes out her smoke, lightly trailing her lips down your neck. Her tongue comes out to prod at the skin, tasting you. You whine. The smoke envelops the two of you, and your nose crinkles at the foul smell. You look down to chastise her but she's already looking at you with those eyes and that cheeky look. No matter what you say next to defend yourself, you know you're caught, that Ellie knows she's affected you. It's in your eyes, the way you've seized up so tightly, how you look at her like you can't wait to see what she does next.

She presses a chaste kiss on your collarbone and you crane your neck upward. You're not sure if you're trying to get away or if you're giving her more access. She pulls away and you find yourself leaning forward to try to get her back on you.

"Is that the most rebellious thing you've ever done?" She chuckles, taking another drag and blowing it over you, bathing you in the white haze. "You like being treated like that, huh?"

You shiver. "I don't get it," you say dumbly. You've never been this confused.

"What don't you get? I just think it's fun to make you squirm." She thinks you've had enough and blows her next exhale away from you. "I wanna corrupt you, sweetheart." It sounds derogatory coming from her but you find that you don't mind the tone. The spot Ellie had made contact with feels as if it's burning. You crave for that feeling all over your body.

You stammer over your words, pathetically unable to spit out any sort of coherent reaction to her. Any reaction would be better to tripping over your words. Fed up with trying to sound like a person, you decide to stop talking.

"You enjoyed that huh? Admit it." She inhales and repeats her action. "Makes you feel hot inside."

"What? No- no, are you insane?" The sane part of you is telling you that you shouldn't be doing this, especially not with Ellie fucking Williams of all people. She's everything you aren't- she's rude and snarky and devilish... and tall and strong and hot. Oh shit! The batshit insane part of you is slowly melting the angel on your shoulder, and you can basically see the little devil cackling as you feel yourself straying further from the good girl persona you'd cultivated. You feel your heartbeat in your pants.

Ellie begins to kiss down your neck, sucking and licking at your jaw and collarbone. This time, you're acutely aware that you're actively giving her access to do as she pleases with you. "Maybe I'm insane, but I can tell. You did like it. And if you deny, I'll do it again until you tell the truth."

"Well I didn't, so you can forget about-"

She places her thumb on your lower lip as you start your tirade, effectively shutting you up. "Too late." Ellie leans in and before you know it, her lips are on yours. Her arm snakes around the back of your waist and pulls you as close to her as you've ever been. That warm feeling flushes down your body, leaving chills across your skin. More. All you can think is that you want more. Your hands come up to grip her shoulders, you almost want to push her away, but you find yourself pulling her closer and closer. No room for the Holy Spirit.

Ellie pulls away, smugly looking down at you. "Told you you liked it."

"I didn't say that." You were being a contrarian on purpose at this point. Anything to keep Ellie treating you like this- you wanted to prolong this moment for however long you could. She hoists you up, bringing you out of the park and into the back of the parking lot. She throws you into the backseat of her beaten pickup and crawls atop you with darkened eyes.

You squeal in surprise. "El-lie!"

She continues to kiss you, making you wetter by the second. The heat pooling in your panties is so fucking embarrassing, but you find that you don't care how humiliating this is. You just want more.

"Els, what if someone sees?"

She scoffs as if the idea is preposterous; as if the prospect of getting caught is impossible. "Nobody can see us, and they won't leave until later. Don't stress about it." Ellie bites her lip and it makes your body get hot flushes. "I can do whatever I want to you. But you know what? I think you'd let me. Is that right?"

"...Maybe." Read: Yes, yes, anything! She leans down, placing her hand on the back of your neck and pulling your head closer up towards her. Her hand forces your legs apart further to allow her access. The way she lays on your inner thighs, atop your clothed core, makes you feel lightheaded. You love the way she manhandles you, and it's exactly how you thought she'd be. Every time she adjusts her position, your clit rubs against her and sends jolts of electricity up your body.

"I knew it. You're not as perfect as you try to be. You're dirty."

You want to deny it, you really do, but the evidence is clear. You're disheveled under her, lips swollen from hers, and she's pulling your panties to your ankles and shoving them in her jacket pocket, yet you're ashamed to say that you don't feel an ounce of guilt over it.

Despite how excited you are for whatever is about to happen, you're still incredibly nervous. This is the most physically vulnerable you've ever been with another person, and the fact that you're completely bare under your skirt makes your stomach flip.

Your face must betray your emotions because Ellie momentarily softens. She pulls her hands away from your hips and cups your face, peppering kisses across your cheeks and up to your forehead, making you laugh lightly. "You alright? We can stop."

"No... please don't." Her face lights up.

"Sorry, say that again?" You roll your eyes and she chuckles. "I knew you were like this. Not so pure now, huh?"

"Guess not."

"So you admit it?"

"...Fine. Yes."

Ellie sighs in relief as if her thirst were quenched- that's what she's been wanting to hear from you forever. She could see it in the way you snuck glances at her during mass, finding your wandering, hungry eyes from across the room. She could feel it in the way your hand lingered on her a little too long to be friendly, your touch suspiciously light, like if you touched her any harder you'd start to tremor.

But now, there's no semblance of the timid person you'd been. When Ellie pulls away, your hand comes up to the back of her neck to pull her back in. You're insatiable, and Ellie fucking loves it. She tugs at the bottom of your sweater. "Pull that fucking thing off. Show me those pretty tits." Her breath becomes heavy as you oblige and become needier. "Did you know you were this easy?" She teases.

"What? I'm- I'm not." Everything she says feels designed to evoke the biggest reaction from you. She keeps you on your toes, never letting you get too comfortable. How exciting.

"So it's just for me then?" You don't answer, and it excites Ellie to know that she's right. This reaction is purely for her. Nobody else has seen you like this, and she's grateful to be the one who gets to corrupt you. It really didn't take much effort. "You're so easy to control."

Her hands drift back to your thighs, sliding under your skirt, her lips press to your jawline. Hot breath trails along your neck, down further to your collarbone. Her fingers slide over your inner thighs, sensitive skin rippling as she applies light pressure, testing how reactive you are. You twitch, unwittingly opening your legs more and giving Ellie more access. "You look good like this, though."

Ellie's fingers dig into you, grasping the flesh of your ass and moaning softly into your ear. Her thumbs are on either side of where you desperately need her, and your hips buck up into her, seeking her touch. "Knew you had a nice ass, too."

"Shut up." You mumble.

"Why would I? You like it when I say things like that, don't you? You wouldn't be this drenched if you didn't." She swipes the pad of her thumb over your clit and applies delicious pressure. You nearly cum on the spot.

Is this what you've been missing? This pleasure, this euphoria? Ellie grins at your reaction, drinking in your desperation for her like a succubus. "Aw, sensitive little pussy. Haven't you touched yourself like this before?"

You had, a few times, actually, but it never went this far, deep-rooted guilt gnashing in your stomach and ending the moment before you'd been able to finish. After admitting this, she coos at you. "Poor baby." Her tone is so condescending, but it makes you clench around the tip of her fingers.

She slides the first knuckle of two fingers past your entrance, pumping them in and out painfully slowly. "Ellie, you prick. Come on." She continues her ministrations, gently stroking your entrance, never giving you enough to feel remotely satisfied. She uses this time to take in your disheveled, sweaty appearance. Your cute tits bounce as you shift uncomfortably, waiting for Ellie to please you. A bead of sweat rolls down and she can't help but bring her mouth up to lick at it as it slides over your nipple. Her mouth attaches to you and you sigh, holding her closer by her hair. She grins up at you, making eye contact through her lashes. You can see the tip of her tongue poking out, wetting your bud as the cool air nips at you, making you all the more sensitive. Even now, Ellie still hasn't stopped her teasing below.

"Can't call me a prick then beg for me to fuck you. 's not how it works, pretty girl."

"Then what do you want?" You whine.

Ellie can feel your clit flutter and pulse as she moves. "Fuck, you're so desperate for me, aren't you? I want you to tell me how bad y' want me."

"I- I d-" You begin to protest, being cut off with a squeal as Ellie licks a sloppy stripe up your pussy, finally tasting you.

"Don't bullshit me. If I'm gonna fuck you, I needja to be a little more honest with me. I see how you look at me. You been trying to push some thoughts down, huh?"

It was so humiliating how well she could read you. Whenever her tongue came out of her mouth to take communion, your eyes would be trained on the muscle, breath hitching as she would wink at you. Without fail, you would trail your gaze up her body when Ellie walked in with a suit, her way of dressing nicely for service. Always, always, she could feel the heat radiating off your body as she pulled you closer, not taking her eyes off the pastor speaking.

Your thoughts were impure, sinful, and how embarrassing that Ellie knew. You believed you were hiding it well- obviously not.

"Yeah. Maybe."

Ellie's big hands wrap around your thighs, fingers landing on the sensitive skin near your pussy. She looks up at you and you can feel her hot breath on your clit. It takes everything in Ellie to not eat you out immediately, but your embarrassment is too tempting to pass up.

"Tell me about it. You try to fuck yourself thinkin' of me?"

"I do. I- I tried to, at least. Doesn't work."

"Why not, babe? You're so responsive right now." Her fingers find their place back at your entrance, pushing in as you speak.

"I- oh, shit-" You gasp.

Ellie grins. "Talk to me."

"My fingers aren't good enough."

"Ah," she says, "and mine are?" She knows the answer.

"So good."

Ellie likes that she's made you desperate enough that you've abandoned your pride. She enjoys the flush on your face as you shamelessly admit your secrets to her, the good-girl persona a figment of the past.

She's so busy staring up at how your face contorts in pleasure that she doesn't realize that she hasn't moved her fingers in a hot minute. The teasing is torturous for you.

"Ellie," she hears you whine, "Please!" You rut your hips against her fingers and she feels lightheaded. Jesus fucking Christ.

"Sorry, pretty girl. Got distracted." She smirks. "I'll give you what you want now." Ellie finally moves her fingers, curling them in and out slowly. You groan again and she laughs. "Okay, okay! Sorry." Her face darkens and she bites her lip. "You want me to fuck you? Alright, I'll fuck you."

Ellie's fingers begin to pump inside you, hitting all the spots that make you jump and squirm, and you're sure the rusted heap of a car you're in is about to fall off its chassis. She's going so fast and hard that you're immediately overwhelmed and you don't know where to put your hands. In the span of a minute, they cup your face, a forearm slings over your eyes, and you throw your arms up against the window. Finally, you settle on cupping your cheeks, fingers slit open so you can peer down at Ellie's focus on you.

Her eyes haven't left your pussy since she started. She's absolutely mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, how you seem to suck her fingers back in as she tries to pull out and your body betrays how desperately you want her. Ellie's mouth is slightly agape and she can't help when her tongue flickers out to lick curiously at your clit, wanting to taste you again.

"Fu- fuck!" You yelp, bucking your hips up into her face. Ellie snorts as she watches how you squirm. You can feel something building and though you have an idea of what it is, it's building fast and slightly scaring you. "Wait, Els, hold on a second, something- ah- I think- I think I'm-"

You're nervous about how it creeps up on you so suddenly but you find there isn't time to be self-conscious about it because you cum, and you wonder why God could possibly think that doing this is a sin. How could it be a sin if it felt so right?

You don't know what sound you made or how your face looks, but by the way Ellie looks up at you, it must've been something. Her eyes flicker back down to how your clit pulses as you finish, leaking cum onto her fingers and trailing down her hand. You know what she's fucking thinking because you always do. Before you can form a sentence, she's licking up your cum like it's the best meal she's tasted.

You shudder violently. "Ellie, holy fuck, stop, I'm still sensitive! Oh m- Ellie, come on!" Only when you push her face up does she stop, giving you the cheekiest grin.

You roll your eyes and throw your head back against the car door, panting. The dull ache in your thighs is apparent when you attempt to sit, pulling your panties up and cringing at how your cum pools on them.

Ellie still hasn't said anything. You glance over at her, wondering how she feels about whatever just happened. She's looking down, grey hoodie still pulled up to her elbows, staring at the fingers she'd just fucked you with. She glances up at you, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face.

“That was hot.” Her hand rubs up and down your thigh, a kind of comfort you’d never received from her. It wasn’t unwelcome.

You don’t quite know how to feel. There are twinges of guilt gnawing at your stomach, that religious guilt creeping in. Had you done something wrong?

But at the same time, there was a warmth in Ellie’s gaze that made you feel like maybe, it was all worth it. Was it unholy? Almost definitely. But this awakening couldn’t be all bad if she kept looking at you with those soft, fond eyes.

my masterlist...

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #fem reader #moncherellie writing #ellie williams oneshot #tw religion #tw religious trauma #tw #ellie williams

2K notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 5 months

Text

only angel 2 (tattoorry/plugrry)

part two of tattorry is here!!!!! read part one here

in which y/n's parents still suck, harry can't stop thinking about his girl, and maybe there's a chance this'll all work out

word count: 8.5k

content warnings: angst (all solved in the end!), minor mentions of dieting/controlled eating, y/n has really awful parents (spoiler: there is one scene where her mom slaps her), weed mentions, a terrible date (one minor but inappropriate scene with unwanted non-sexual touching), smut (fingering, f receiving oral, dirty talk, spitting, tiniest bit of daddy kink)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

As soon as Y/N's mother zeroes in on Harry's grasp around her daughter's waist, everything moves at a blurry pace.

In an instant, her hand is curled around Y/N's wrist, yanking her away from one of the only sources of comfort she's ever had. She gasps when she pulls her through the door and outside the bookstore, bile rising in her throat as her brain slowly pieces things together. She got caught. Applying to a job. With Harry holding her hand.

She's never going to be able to see him again.

Harry's quick to follow them outside, his mind whirring just as quickly.

"Excuse me!" he calls out as Y/N's mom drops her grasp from her, a stern expression on her face. She doesn't even look in Harry's direction but Y/N immediately blinks at him, her eyes wide with fear. "Excuse me, are you Y/N's mom?"

"Who the hell are you?" she hisses, instantly batting him away the second he takes a step forward. Y/N's chest feels tight as she clamors for words, panic rising in her throat.

"My name is Harry. I know your daughter—"

"Like hell you do." she spits, her eyes squinted and beady as she looks over Harry's appearance. It's clear on Y/N's face that she's never been this mortified before, but she can only hope it's because she got caught, not because she got caught with Harry. "I don't know what nonsense you've gotten yourself into, Y/N, but consider it done. We're going home."

The words are on the tip of Y/N's tongue — no, stop, please, I care about him, you don't understand — but the fear of her mother is too paralyzing. Again, her manicured fingers wrap tightly around Y/N's wrist and she pulls at her, making her stumble.

"Wait— Y/N, you can't seriously—"

"Enough," her mom sneers, tightening her grip, "What do you want? Money? Is that what you're after?"

"What?! No, I told you, I know Y/N—"

"Do you go to school with her? She knows better than to socialize with tattooed lowlives."

His jaw drops and his eyes dart back and forth from Y/N to her mother. Tears line her waterline and she sniffles, looking helpless and desperate — and Harry knows, he can see it right in front of his face how awful her parents are, that they're blatantly abusive and terrible people just because they have money, but for the first time, he actually feels anger bubble up in his throat. Not at her mom, but at Y/N.

"No, I don't go to school with her. Y/N, are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?" he asks, an unusually harsh edge sharpening his voice.

Since this entire thing began, there's space for Y/N to speak — to potentially defend herself, defend Harry, or to do what she's always done and follow her mother's orders. She knows what she wants to do. Harry knows what he wants her to do.

But instead of taking any action, she flounders.

Harry can see it in her eyes — panic ravishing her body as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish. Normally, he'll tease her for that, but this time, he would do anything to hear her say something. Anything.

"Clearly you don't know one another at all. Y/N, we're going home. Now."

With a final yank, Y/N falls pliant in her mother's wishes, following her down the street to wherever her car is parked. Harry watches them walk away, sure that she'll turn around and come running back to him.

It's only when their forms become mixed in with the rest of the busy Manhattan sidewalk, little blobs he can barely make out, that he realizes she's not.

. . .

Y/N doesn't think she's ever felt so shitty in her life.

Her parents have disciplined her in the past for much smaller things — taking her car to campus, missing one of the dates they set up for her. Punishment always came in the form of the silent treatment paired with the confiscation of her car keys and the understanding that she was forbidden to leave the apartment.

This time is so much worse.

The second her mother unlocks her car and Y/N climbs in, she's on the receiving end of a piercing slap. She immediately winces and reaches up to cup her stinging cheek, tears streaming down her face from the image of Harry's hurt expression permanently seared into her memory. When she looks at the woman, she's seething.

"You're a disgrace."

Those are the only words she speaks to her the entire drive home.

When they get home, her mother is quick to lay down the ground rules: She's done with graduate school — according to her, they trusted her to know better and solely focus on her education, but they can't rely on her any longer. She'll start working at their company immediately. She'll go out on a date with Arthur Franklin, do what he wants, and marry into their family as soon as humanly possible. And lastly, she's never to be seen with "that boy" or anyone who looks like him ever again.

In two minutes, her life is drawn out for her in the most terrifying way. But she doesn't fight her. She knows it's a losing battle — one that her mother has been winning her entire life. Harry gave her a beautiful experience. He showed her what her life could have been like if she wasn't so scared.

And when she goes to bed that evening, without dinner of course (her parents gave Freya strict instructions not to make her a portion or allow her to cook anything in the kitchen), she cries for him.

She lets her tears soak into her pillow, dampening the fabric with every sob that breaks free from her chest, and desperately hopes that he doesn't hate her, even if she never sees him again.

. . .

To: Y/N, 11.19.23, 11:32 a.m.

It's been a few days.. just checking in to make sure you're doing okay.

To: Y/N, 11.20.23, 8:49 a.m.

Please just send me a text so I know you're alright.

To: Y/N, 11.22.23, 10:28 p.m.

Hey. I'm gonna wait outside your lecture hall tomorrow. I need to know you're okay. Please tell me if you don't want me to come, but I really need to see you.

To: Y/N, 11.23.23, 4:03 p.m.

Did you skip class today?

To: Y/N, 11.26.23, 1:28 a.m.

If you're avoiding me, that's fine, but this is driving me insane... please just give me a sign or something so I know you're okay. Please Y/N. You can't do this.

. . .

"I just think your father is a great businessman! He's one of the smartest men I've ever worked for and I think we could do something incredible together. Don't you think?"

Y/N gulps down another large sip of wine, flashing a tight smile to Arthur. She never drinks, but she decided that if she was getting through the night, alcohol would serve as a much-needed crutch. They're currently at some smarmy restaurant on the Upper East Side — apparently there's a waitlist of three months, but Arthur was able to just "make a call" and get them a reservation. Y/N thinks she was supposed to be impressed by that, but she could really care less.

It's been a week and a half since she saw Harry last. She never knew heartbreak could be so excruciating, but that line of thinking occurred before she met him.

In the 27 minutes since their date began — yes, Y/N's been counting — Arthur has only talked about her father. How incredible and smart he is, how he runs such a great business, how he can't wait to have a higher position in the company.

"Did you hear me?" Arthur asks, stuffing another piece of bread in his mouth.

"Yeah," she says curtly. "Sorry, did you want me to call my father so you could date him instead?"

Arthur forces out an awkward laugh. "You know, your mom said you had an unusual sense of humor... guess that's just part of your charm, huh?"

Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she picks at her pasta. She's looking straight ahead, eyes empty and zoning out when she thinks she sees a familiar head of long, unruly curls. She perks up, straightening her posture, ignoring Arthur when he assumes her change in body language is in response to whatever nonsense he's droning on about.

She wills the figure to turn around, her heart tugging — but when he does a mere moment later, she realizes it's not him, just someone with a similar haircut. Her shoulders slump, blinking as she watches the man gently guide his date to their table.

"Are you okay?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, she redirects her attention to Arthur. She swallows and nods her head.

"Yeah. Sorry, thought I saw someone I know."

He hums. "Hm, probably not. Like I said, this restaurant a three-month long waitlist. No one you know could be here."

"Right." she mutters. She drops her fork, suddenly feeling sick, and Arthur's eyes snap up at the clattering sound the metal makes against the ceramic plate.

"Be careful," he hisses, "This is a nice place, Y/N."

The sting to his tone is instantly reminiscent of her own parents' discipline. She cowers, mumbling out a half-hearted apology, and when she looks up to see his squinted eyes analyzing her every feature, anxiety is quick to spread through her chest and up her throat.

She knew it before tonight — that Arthur was essentially just an extension of her parents, but the fear and apprehension of leaving her family was too paralyzing. But in an instant, it clicked.

Sitting across from her, Arthur just looks so mean. A curl to his lips, an expression of disgust painted across his face as he studies her, his mouth open in preparation to scold her again.

She can't do this for the rest of her life.

She refuses to do this for the rest of her life.

Her heart is beating out of her chest, shaky hands grabbing the napkin folded neatly in her lap. She places it on the table, moving slowly in hopes that he won't notice, even if she knows it's impossible.

"What are you doing?" he asks tightly, eyebrows lowering as she stands from the table.

"I... I have to do something," Y/N mumbles, "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"What?" Arthur snaps, digging into his pocket to grab his wallet, throwing a few hundred dollar bills down on the table as she rushes out of the restaurant. He's quick to follow her, his stride much larger and faster than hers. He reaches out to grab her elbow and pulls her form to press against his body in the entryway. She gasps out in surprise, freezing her movements.

"Where are you going?" Arthur repeats through gritted teeth. "We're not done. We're on a date, Y/N."

She swallows and shakes her head jerkily, "I have to do something, I'm sorry, please let me go—"

"Your parents made a deal with me." he says, nostrils flaring, "You're done running. You're mine now."

Her stomach drops. A deal? She's not some kind of pawn in their game and she's not an object that can be moved around whenever they want. In an act of anger, she yanks her arm away from his grasp, taking a step back.

"I'm not yours. I'm not anybody's. Whatever deal you made with my parents is off."

She grabs the door handle and pushes it open, leaving Arthur — and whatever fucked up future they had planned for her — behind.

. . .

Harry hasn't been sleeping well.

It's from a combination of factors, but primarily, it's being on the receiving end of Y/N's silent treatment. He didn't think she would ever do this to him, but maybe he was too naive, looking at their relationship through rose-colored lenses and assuming she'd be strong enough to reject her parents in favor of him.

How stupid.

He sighs and glances at the clock on the wall of his office. When he was seeing Y/N, he never stayed at the shop later than 6 or 7, usually because she wanted to get home before her parents started to wonder. These days, he stays behind until midnight, trying to occupy himself with work so he doesn't have to go home and think about her.

And at first, he thinks he's hallucinating. Who would be knocking on the door to the shop at 9:30, especially with the clear and apparent closed sign? But then the fists get louder, and he wonders if it's someone drunk or high, looking to get a tattoo. (That certainly wouldn't be happening.)

Finally, he hears it — the faintest of familiar voices calling out his name, and he realizes he may not be imagining it.

He forces himself out, taking large footsteps to the front, his heart beating rapidly when he sees the helpless girl pounding on the door. Quickly, he unlocks it through furrowed brows, immediately letting her in when he sees the distress on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, pulling Y/N inside. "What happened?"

Dried tears leave marks down the apples of her cheeks, her mascara clumpy and stained around her eyes. She sniffles and shakes her head. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Y/N, what's going on?" he repeats before locking the door back up. Carefully, he places a hand to the small of her back and guides her to the back, where his office is. He wordlessly encourages her to sit down on the blue velvet couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handing it to her.

"They're awful," she stammers, "My parents... I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Just tell me what happened," Harry murmurs, carefully rubbing the area between her shoulder blades, "Why are you crying? Did they do something? Are you hurt?"

She shrugs, eyes falling to her lap. "Everything's been terrible." she whispers. "They had me go on a date with someone they want me to marry — when I wanted to leave, he told me that my parents made a deal with him. That I'm his now."

"A deal?" Harry repeats, anger quickly bubbling under his skin, "What does that fucking mean?"

"I don't know. I didn't know about it until tonight."

"Did he do anything to you?" he asks, doing a quick once-over of her appearance. She doesn't look hurt, but she does look beautiful. It makes jealousy rise from the pit of his stomach, knowing she got dressed up for somebody else.

"No. He was really mean, but," she sniffles, shrugging again, "I don't know. He grabbed me."

"Where?" Harry growls. "Where did he grab you?"

Her eyes widen, "J-just my arm. When I was trying to leave, he, um, grabbed my elbow and pulled me back against him."

"Let me see."

Y/N wants to tell him that she's fine, immediately trying to downplay the act, but on the cab ride over, she had time to process how gross it made her feel. That he felt it was appropriate to touch her in that way just because she didn't want to be there — so she allows him to cautiously push up the sleeve of her sweater, analyzing the slightly reddened skin where his hand had been.

"You're not seeing him again," he mutters, carefully putting her arm down. He reaches over into his desk drawer and grabs a small container of Neosporin, dabbing a bit on the mark and rubbing it in with gentle fingertips. "I don't care if your parents want you to marry him. You will not be with someone who hurts you, Y/N."

"I know," she whispers, "I told him that I wasn't his. That whatever deal they had is off."

Harry's eyes widen. "You did?"

"Yes." she nods sullenly, "I realized that... well, I wanted to leave because I wanted to come see you. I don't want them to control me anymore. I want my own life."

"That's... that's huge, Y/N," Harry murmurs, resisting the urge to surge forward and wrap his arms around her, "What are you gonna do?"

She shrugs. "I haven't gotten that far yet, I guess. But the first step was seeing you and apologizing for that day with my mom."

"It hurt," he admits quietly. "Seeing you walk away... but I guess I didn't fully understand just how bad it was."

"I never wanted to walk away. They just scare me so much. She... she slapped me when we got in the car."

"Dovie," Harry breathes out, the pet name slipping from his mouth, "That's unacceptable, you know that, right? They're abusive."

"I do. I know they're bad." she pauses, swallowing harshly. "I don't want to go back there tonight."

Harry shakes his head. "You're never going back there at all."

. . .

Harry's apartment is cozy.

Y/N should have assumed as much, being that his mere presence essentially feels like a warm hug. But when he takes her back to his place and he hesitantly locks the door, murmuring out an apology about how messy things are, she can't but smile gently at all the very Harry decor touches: A record player next to a large collection of his favorite albums, framed pictures and polaroids tacked up onto his fridge of his friends, family, and loved ones, and just about ten cozy throw blankets and pillows strewn across his couch.

He apologizes for how small it is and Y/N scoffs — she couldn't care less about the size of his place, instead being completely enamored by the fact that it's his.

She's analyzing the refrigerator door, eyes glued to a photo strip of him and his sister when she feels a gentle hand at her hip, giving it a squeeze.

"Do you wanna change, dove?" Harry asks quietly, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck.

She nods, pinching at the fabric of her dress. Suddenly, her tights feel too restrictive and her feet ache from the heels her mother forced her into hours earlier.

"I don't have any clothes, though."

He chuckles lightly. "I can give you some, silly."

"Are you sure?" Y/N asks, turning to look at him. Her lips part nervously when she sees how close he is to her. "You're already doing so much for me tonight."

"What, would you prefer to waltz around naked, then?"

Her signature blush appears in seconds and it makes a lopsided grin appear nearly instantly on Harry's face. He can tell that she's about to whine his name out in her typical chagrined way and he laughs.

"Kidding, princess," he mumbles, "But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to."

"You're too much." Y/N grumbles, though the small smile on her lips says differently. She couldn't deny how much she missed Harry over the past two weeks — not only the place he holds in her life, but from a physical, intimate standpoint, too.

"C'mon, I'll get you some sweats."

She follows him to his bedroom, her stomach prickling with nerves as he guides her to the bed, instructing her to take a seat. He traipses over to his dresser and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants and a baggy tee-shirt. It says hot and heavy on the back, and she remembers she blushed just from reading it the first time she saw him wear it.

He gives her a moment of privacy to change, shutting the bedroom door quietly. With a deep breath, she kicks her heels off, peels her tights down her legs, and pulls her dress up and over her body. It's a relief to finally change into cozy clothes that smell like Harry, and she can't believe she's really here — when they were seeing each other before, she'd dreamt of being able to go over to his house and see what it looked like. She was always just too scared that her parents would find her, or even call the cops when she didn't come home early enough.

Now, she still cares, but it feels like Harry's there to protect her — and that makes it seem a little less scary.

There's a knock at the door, pulling her from her thoughts. With her old clothes folded up neatly, she opens it, revealing a sleepy looking Harry.

"All changed?"

She nods, opening the door a little wider to reveal her appearance. His jaw drops and a single "fuck" leaves his lips.

Y/N's eyes widen, worried that she's done something wrong. Quickly, he flounders, stammering like she normally does.

"Are you alright?" she asks, a look of concern covering her face. He nods, swallowing harshly.

"Um. Yeah, sorry." he coughs into his hand, "Fuck, this is embarrassing— you just— um, you look really fucking hot in my clothes."

She raises her eyebrows, glancing down at the outfit. His sweatpants pool at her ankles and the shirt, which is oversized on his torso, goes down to the middle of her thighs. She supposes he may be able to see her breasts through the white fabric of the tee, but otherwise, she doesn't understand why it's such an attractive sight to him.

"Shit, I need to— I'm sorry, Y/N, this definitely isn't what you need tonight—" he's inching backwards and towards the bathroom on the side of the hallway when she sees it — a very large and apparent erection straining through his black jeans.

"Oh," she mumbles, "Do you...? We can, like, do stuff if you... if you wanted..."

"No!" he groans, turning to face the wall and pressing his forehead against it, "Just— no, dovie, thank you for the offer but I just feel like I'd be taking advantage of you after such a long night, yeah? So lemme just— I'm gonna take care of this in the bathroom and you can get comfy in the bed, okay?"

He's gone in a flash, the bathroom door locked before she even has a chance to reply. She bites her lip, hoping he's not secretly annoyed at her for asking if he wanted to do something sexual. She's too tired to overthink it though, so she turns on her heel, walks back into his room, and climbs under the blankets.

She's nearly asleep when he returns, soft footsteps padding across the length of the wood floors. She hears a quiet whisper of her name and she peeks an eye open to see Harry standing over her.

"'m gonna sleep outside on the couch, but let me know if you need anything, alright?"

She swallows, reaching out to grab his hand in a sleepy haze. His eyebrows raise as she bites her lip. "Can you just... stay for a minute? Until I fall back asleep?"

And truly, Harry couldn't deny her even if he wanted to.

So he nods his head and, to his surprise, she moves over so he has room to crawl in. He does, at first maintaining a sliver of distance between them, until she looks up at him, her hair mussed from laying back against his pillows, an expectant and wide-eyed look on her face.

"Need me to hold you, dovie?"

Y/N nods, immediately clinging to his body like a magnet. He smiles gently and wraps his arms around her form, pulling her onto her side and into his chest, smoothing her hair down as he presses an occasional kiss to her forehead. They've cuddled at the shop a few times, but nothing like this — not an all-consuming, full body experience that has Harry feeling like he's in heaven. She smells so good, her skin is so warm, and she's wrapped up in his clothes — he doesn't think he could ask for anything more in this moment.

Just as he thinks she's fallen asleep, he hears a soft voice muffled into his sweatshirt. He glances down, wondering if she's just talking in her sleep. Instead, he's met with tired, sweet eyes.

"What was that?" he whispers, swiping his knuckle lightly over her cheek.

"Thank you," she mumbles. "For today."

"I would do anything for you, princess. Hope you know that."

She yawns with a shake of her head. "That's a silly thing to promise."

. . .

When Y/N wakes up the next morning, she's under the weight of a long haired man that, for the past two weeks, only existed in her dreams.

It's jarring for him to actually exist in her reality now, but even more so that she stayed over at his place and slept in the same bed as him.

Less than 24 hours away from her parents and she's already crossed off another first off her list.

But the blissful moment of realization is quickly stripped away when the events of last night come flooding back to her — the date with Arthur, his rough nature, the supposed deal between him and her parents. Her parents who were an entirely different issue on their own — she feels a dull throb aching behind her temples just as the thought of how they're planning to lure her back, worry seeping into her bones when she realizes she hasn't checked her phone since they left the tattoo shop last night.

Harry must feel her panicked thoughts rising because he blinks his eyes open to see a prominent furrow between her eyebrows. Without her realizing it, he moves carefully, raising his thumb to smooth it away.

"What're you stressing about so early in the morning?" he rasps out. She swallows, moving onto her side to face him.

"They've probably issued out a search party by now."

"Mm, can't do that. You're not considered a missing person until it's been 48 hours."

His joke clearly doesn't land when Y/N squints her eyes at him. Instead, he quickly wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer.

"It's gonna be okay, Y/N. I promised you would never go back there and I meant it," he explains lowly, pressing a light kiss to the shell of her ear. "What if you just text them and tell them that you're done? You're over 18, there's no reason why they can keep doing this."

Her eyes close as she relaxes into his chest, enjoying the sensation of his vibrating chest from his deep voice.

"I'm too scared to look at my phone." she admits quietly. "I can't imagine the mean things they've written to me."

"Do you want me to look?" Harry asks softly, using his hand to tilt her head up to look at him.

She shrugs. "If you do, can you maybe not tell me what they say? Just tell me the important stuff?"

"Course."

She nods and sits up, reaching onto his night stand for her phone. With a deep breath, she hands it to him before rolling over onto her other side to face the wall.

He runs his fingers up and down her spine as he goes through her missed texts. There's one or two from that prick Arthur, but they're nothing important — just an ask that she calls him when she's feeling better (he resists the urge to block his number altogether). But otherwise... well, he's admittedly shocked at what he finds.

"Is it bad?" she asks, wedging her thumbnail between her teeth.

"Um..." Harry presses his lips into a thin line, rolling them into his mouth. "You didn't block their numbers or anything, right?"

"No."

"Dove... I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but... there's nothing."

She flips onto her back, a stunned expression painting her face. "What?"

"They didn't text or call, sweetheart. I'm... I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but... you just had some missed texts from that guy from last night."

"How is that possible?" she asks when he hands her phone to her, "I— do you think they haven't noticed?"

"I'm not sure. You said they've been on you more often lately, I would assume that they'd be waiting up for you last night, right?"

She shrugs, "Yeah. Probably."

"On the other hand, though, it could mean that... well, maybe you're home free, dovie," Harry says, treading carefully in case he accidentally upsets her, "We can take the day to relax. I don't have to go into work today and we can figure out your next steps, if you'd like."

With a heavy sigh, she nods her head and sits up a little straighter, running her hand through her messy bedhead. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Sure," Harry mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before allowing his feet to touch the chilly wood floor of his bedroom. "I'll get you set up in the bathroom."

She doesn't reply to that so Harry decides to leave her be, instead deciding to show his affection in an act of service. He starts by running the shower on the perfect temperature — not too hot but not too cool either, just so steam begins to steadily fill the room — and picks out his plushiest towels for when she's done. He finishes by lighting his favorite candle for her, moseying back out to his bedroom to fetch her a new pair of sweats.

She's on her feet when he returns, scrolling on her phone with her lips pressed into a straight line. Silently, he grabs another pair of his sweatpants and a tee-shirt and reaches out for her hand; a wordless request to follow him.

She does, pliantly, but not before peering up at him with eyes that tell him everything: She's sad. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.

"Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Harry murmurs, folding her new clothes on the covered toilet seat. "You're obviously free to use whatever you want in there."

Swallowing harshly, she begins to tug at the hem of her borrowed tee-shirt before he has the chance to scamper out of the room. His eyes widen — he feels like a dick, she probably wants to be alone and now he's standing her ogling at her breasts like an idiot — but she simply stares at him with blank eyes.

"Can you... distract me?" she asks softly, her torso now bare, "It's— it's just been too much and I miss you. A lot."

Harry breathes in sharply. "I don't know if that's a good idea, dovie... it's been an emotional time for you."

"I know that," she mumbles, biting her bottom lip. "I just— I wanna feel normal again, Harry. Like how things were before. When we could just kiss and hang out and I didn't feel like I'm gonna burst into flames at any point."

"I know," Harry nods understandingly and bumps his hip against the sink. "But things are different now, princess. And I don't want to do something that you'll regret later because you were feeling down."

She shakes her head quickly, taking a step towards him. The steam from the shower has effectively warmed the bathroom, making beads of sweat pearl at his hairline. Well, that and the topless girl in front of him.

"I would never regret anything we do," she says, "Even when I tried to stay away from you, I didn't regret a single moment."

"Really?"

"Of course not," she replies, keeping her gaze set on him, "Sometimes, I, um... I even played with myself. Thinking of you."

"Jesus Christ."

He lets out a frustrated groan and closes the bathroom door, tugging his own tee-shirt up and over his body to reveal his heavily inked chest and arms. In a minute, his hands are on her, squeezing her sides as he presses her back against the wall.

"Tell me more," he mutters, leaning down and sponging kisses along her jawline and down to her neck. "What did you do? What did you think about?"

The sudden physicality makes it hard for her to breathe, let alone talk, but she tries to anyway, knowing that he'll tease her into oblivion if she doesn't at least make an attempt. With his fingers curling into the waistband of the sweatpants she wears, she tries to remember the nights when all she could think about was him.

"Thought about— oh—" her sentence is interrupted when he nips at the crook of her neck, his fingers dipping beneath her panties to lightly roll over her clit. She leans her head back but, as expected, he attempts to keep her on task, using his other hand to gently squeeze the sides of her neck. "T-thought about you touching me... l-like this."

"Like what?"

"This," she repeats through a gasp when he starts to apply a bit more pressure to her clit, pressing small circles into the nerves.

"Don't know what that means, dove. Gotta spell it out for me. Where was I touching you?"

Y/N moans when one of his fingers dips into her pulsating hole, just enough to make her clench, her knees weakening. He squeezes her neck again, this time a bit tighter, and her eyes roll back.

"Where was I touching you, Y/N?"

"D-down there." she says breathily.

"Down where?"

She knows there's no way she's getting out of this, and the rhythmic pulsing of her clit is only a reminder of the power he holds over her in this moment. She whimpers, swallowing harshly when he removes his finger, keeping the tip inside.

"Tell me," he encourages lowly, licking over the sensitive part of her neck he found a few weeks back. "Don't you wanna be my dirty girl again?"

"Y-you were touching my pussy." she mumbles, her cheeks burning. She can feel his smirk, the way his lips curl against her skin. As promised, he dips his finger back in, curling it up against the spot that has her fluttering her eyes closed, and resumes the soft circles into her clit.

"I was touching your pussy? That's a naughty thing for a sweet girl like you to imagine," he lowers, placing open-mouthed kisses down her naked chest. "And what were you doing while you thought of that, hm?"

Y/N gasps wetly as he pulses his finger steadily, a groan falling from his own lips when he feels her arousal gush out around his hand. Based on how long it took her to refer to her own anatomy, Harry doesn't have high expectations for her explaining how she touched herself, so it's a given that he'll help push her along.

"Did you grind your little clit on your hand?" he asks as he lowers to his knees, tugging the sweatpants down her legs and pressing kisses to her exposed stomach. "Or did you hump one of those cute stuffed animals you have on your bed?"

She pants heavily at that, a soundless lightbulb illuminating above his head. Bingo.

"Don't think I didn't notice those little stuffies in your bedroom from when you'd send me pretty pictures of yourself," he murmurs into her hips, nipping at the stretch marks on her stomach, "Is that what you would do when you thought of me? Hump your cute bunny, moaning, wishing I was there to take care of you?"

She nods her head, quickly and haphazardly. He pushes his lips over her mound, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake as he continues his journey down to her pussy. She's wet, perhaps even more so than he's ever seen her before, her juices leaking from where his finger is buried deep inside down to his wrist.

"Please," she whimpers from above, making him glance up at her, "Just— just want you. Please."

"You have me, dovie." he replies easily, pushing a second finger in and nestling it close to the first.

"N-no. Want you. All of you."

He swallows and sits back on his heels. She has no idea how badly he wants that, and if it were anyone else in the world, he'd probably say yes. But it's her — his sweet, innocent girl that showed up at his tattoo shop one day and hasn't left his brain for one second since — and he knows that right now isn't the time for them.

"I'll give you that as soon as things get better," he murmurs, keeping his gaze set on her. "But you deserve so much more than to be fucked for the first time against a bathroom wall. Wanna take you out, make it romantic."

She blinks, taking a moment to process his polite rejection, nevertheless slowly nodding her head. He leans forward and presses another light kiss to her mound, just below her stomach.

"Y'wanna know something, though?"

Again, she nods, and he begins to slowly curl his fingers up against her g-spot once more.

"I love the fact that I've corrupted you," he mutters, kissing down to her hood, right where her clit is peeking out. He licks just above there and she moans, pushing her hips out slightly as a wordless request to keep moving down. "Remember when you were that polite girl coming in with her friend? And now you're at my place, begging for my cock, asking me to take your virginity."

"Uh-huh," she mewls as his lips wrap around her clit, sucking perfectly in time with his thrusting fingers.

He pauses his movements for a moment, just enough for a demand: "Say it," he says, immediately returning to the assault on her most sensitive parts.

"Y-you corrupted me," she breathes, punctuating the sentiment with a whimper when he harshens his sucking, "I'm yours— oh, I'm yours, daddy—"

"That's right." he uses his other hand to part her pussy lips, spitting squarely on her clit, even if she doesn't need any more lubrication. He switches to kitten licking the bundle of nerves, feeling her hole beginning to clench violently around his fingers. "Cum for me like a good girl. Missed feeling your little pussy squeeze me like this."

That's all it takes for her to cum, her body feeling like it's exploding into a million stars as his tongue and fingers work her through the intense pleasure. He's groaning from the taste of her arousal that drools out from her pussy, the feeling of haphazard pulsations the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He loves watching her — her head ducked back slightly, her eyes squeezed closed, and the prettiest whimpers falling from plushy lips.

"S-sensitive," she finally stutters out and Harry nods, gently pulling his fingers out. They immediately find their way into his mouth as he rises back up to his feet. When he's finished licking them clean, he grabs her jaw.

"Open."

She does. Her lips part, opening her mouth, her pink tongue laying dormant inside. With a smirk, his eyes flicker up to hers before he spits into her mouth.

It takes her by surprise, her body jolting slightly, but her sensitive pussy twitches from the act.

"Swallow."

Slowly, she closes her mouth, swallowing the combination of his spit with her arousal. A moment later, she opens it again to show him there's nothing left.

"Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, you're incredible."

She smiles gently, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Can we shower now?"

Harry chuckles and nods, guiding her into the steaming stream of water.

. . .

"Okay, princess. Repeat the plan back to me."

Y/N is doing her best to fight off a panic attack as she sits in the passenger's seat of Harry's car. Swallowing harshly, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she restates the steps they'd decided on last night.

"We're gonna go up to their apartment and go straight to my bedroom. If they're there, I'm going to ignore them and let you do the talking. I won't listen to anything rude they say to me."

"That's right. What do we do when we're in your room?"

"We're gonna pack up my things, but only the necessities. Most things can be repurchased."

"Exactly. We're going for important things that you don't wanna leave behind."

She nods, watching the city streets slowly progress to the familiar high-end stores and supermarkets she grew up around. Suddenly, the blocks were far more sanitary and well taken care of. It made her stomach flutter in the worst way, being back here after spending the past few days at Harry's house in her newly preferred neighborhood.

In a stroke of luck, Harry had a friend that was looking for a roommate. Apparently, they'd worked together as tattoo apprentices a few years back and they still kept in touch. Her name was Lucy, and Harry had even set up a coffee date between the three of them so they could sit down before Y/N made any big decisions. She had been really nervous about it, but Lucy turned out to be incredibly nice and understanding.

Y/N explained her situation to her, only to receive an abundance of kindness in return — she said that she would love to have her move in with her, that she was a pretty quiet person to live with and worked most days while Y/N would be in school. (She missed around two weeks of classes because of her parents, but Harry convinced her to meet with her professors and tell them she had a family emergency. Thankfully, they were fine with it, and with a little extra studying and hunkering down, she thinks she can still end the semester with low Bs.)

With her living situation figured out and Y/N back to being a full-time student, the only thing left to address was her parents. In an ideal world, she would never have to deal with them again, but she knows that's unrealistic. They still haven't reached out to her despite it being a full week since she went back to Harry.

And while she wants to run away and abandon her former life, Harry convinced her that she had things she'd regret leaving behind. Not to mention, since starting grad school, she started saving money from her parents in the event that she somehow received an opportunity to get away from them. It wasn't enough to sustain her forever, but it would be good enough for a few months of bills and rent until she gets a job.

When Harry parks in the lot under her parents' apartment building, she feels nauseous. She ignores the sleek black Range Rover that's still parked in her assigned spot — she has no desire to take it, especially because it was just another way for her parents to pretend they were giving her freedom when they were just controlling her even more.

Wordlessly, they get in the elevator. Y/N's nibbling on her bottom lip to the point of near-blood draw while Harry thumbs over her knuckles, pressing a light kiss to her palm when the elevator dings at their arrival.

Standing outside of their apartment door, Y/N rolls her shoulders back to stand up straighter. She can feel Harry's presence close behind her and it brings her comfort, knowing that she's not going in this alone. He murmurs out a near-whisper of encouragement ("you can do this") before she punches in the door code. She's surprised when it works — she'd been half expecting them to change the codes so she couldn't come back.

Hesitantly and with intertwined fingers, Y/N leads them to her bedroom. The apartment is silent, which typically means her parents are gone, but her anxiety is too overwhelming for her to trust it.

Which she supposes is for good reason, because when she opens the door to her room, her mother is sitting on her bed.

"Y/N," she says, eyes roaming inquisitively from her daughter to the man she's holding hands with. "I saw you coming up on the security cameras."

A bead of panic drips down her spine. Harry squeezes her hand and steps forward, clearly prepared to reply, when Y/N stops him.

"Why are you here?" Y/N asks. Harry looks at her with a confused expression but he takes a step back, ready to defend her if needed. "You haven't contacted me for a week."

"Well, this is my property, Y/N. You're trespassing."

"Okay." she sighs, looking up at Harry. "Just give us a minute then, we just want to grab some of my stuff and we'll be gone."

"And this is who you'll be living with?" her mom quirks an eyebrow. "This... person from the bookstore that day?"

"He tried talking to you. You had no interest."

"Well I would think you would defend your boyfriend better than that. How was I supposed to know?"

Y/N grits her teeth and shakes her head, "Again, mother, just give us a minute. I'm not taking any furniture or anything valuable, just a few keepsakes."

"You're abandoning this family, I hope you know that," her mother spits as Y/N begins to rustle through her desk, grabbing some pictures and notebooks. Silently, she hands them to Harry, who carefully slips everything in the tote bag around his shoulder. "Your father is so disappointed. So are the Franklins! I mean, you left Arthur alone like that on your first date! And for what, a lifetime of struggling for money?"

"Not everything is about money!" Y/N exclaims, turning around. Harry's eyebrows shoot up — he's never seen her get angry before. "Besides that, you promised me off to Arthur like I'm some kind of object! Who does that?!"

"It was for the better of the company and the family, Y/N, don't be dramatic—"

"Well I didn't want that! I never did!" she shouts, "I want to live my own life! With my boyfriend! Who, by the way, I'm not living with! He's just helping me get on my feet, but even if I was moving in with him, it wouldn't matter, because it's not your life! You don't get to make my decisions anymore!"

Her mother scoffs and Y/N rolls her eyes. When she finds her envelope of money deep at the bottom of her dresser, she grabs a few pairs of pants and sweaters, sticking it between the layers of fabric to pass off to Harry. He tucks them all away.

"You know you're cut off after this, right?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is it. You walk out that door, you're never allowed back. Don't ask us for a single cent."

Bristled, Y/N lets out a humorless chuckle as she heads for the door, Harry right behind her. They cross the length of the apartment and she slams the down button to the elevator, turning around to look at her mother for the last time.

"I never want to come back, mother. Goodbye."

The click of her mother's heels are the last thing she hears as they enter the elevator and ride down to the parking lot.

. . .

When they get into Harry's car, he realizes it's been a solid five minutes since Y/N has said anything.

He doesn't want to pressure her — he knows that what just happened was a lot, and when he was reading articles like how to help your partner leave an abusive family last night, they all instructed him to go at her pace. So, that's what he decides to do.

The interior of the car is silent as they drive out of the lot and away from her parents, the boring, dull building just a reflection in the rearview mirror. He doesn't want to turn the radio on and make it seem like he doesn't care, but he also doesn't want to say something stupid and upset her further.

It's only when he hears a sound resembling a giggle that he looks over at Y/N, a concerned furrow in his brow.

But she is laughing.

The most beautiful grin is covering her face as she lets out loud laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shakes her head, looking at Harry, whose confused expression only makes her laugh even harder.

"Dovie, are you alright?" he asks, pulling the car over in preparation for a full meltdown.

"I—" her words are cut off by another peel of laughter and she takes another moment to pull herself together, "Oh my god— I would've done that years ago if I knew it'd be that easy!"

This time, Harry chuckles, a wave of relief washing over him.

"I'm so proud of you," he says, leaning over to pull her hands into his lap. "You stood up for yourself. You left. I couldn't be happier for you."

"Thank you," she bubbles, her cheeks flushed from her laughter, "I'm so happy. Thank you so much, Harry... I'm just so thankful for you."

He shakes his head, "I'll do anything for you, princess."

Y/N leans over to kiss him lightly, a smile continuing to curl at the edges of her lips. "I love you, you know."

Harry grins.

"Yeah, I love you, too."

. . .

The bell above the front door of St. Mark's Social Club rings as Y/N steps inside. She smiles politely at Jo, the kind receptionist that sits at the front desk (the same one that checked Mai in a few months ago). She's still getting comfortable with all the different employees and characters that come in and out of Harry's tattoo shop, but her socialization skills have definitely improved since moving out.

She walked over as soon as she got out of class. Lately, she's been staying on campus a bit later to do some studying for finals, but today's Friday. Over the past few weeks as Y/N's adjusted to her new life of living on her own and officially dating Harry, they've designated Friday nights as theirs, whether it mean curling up on the couch with a pizza or heading out to a bar with some of Harry's employees. (More often than not, it's the former — despite Harry being the more social of the two, he's always eager to get his hands on her after a day of being away from one another.)

He's wrapping up his last client of the day when Y/N peeks into his station, waving with a small smile. Harry's stoic and focused expression instantly transforms into one of excitement.

"Hey dove," he greets as he tears off a clear piece of plastic to cover his client's new tattoo. (Y/N's since learned that it's called Saniderm, and it's apparently some way of helping fresh tattoos heal faster.) "You can put your stuff down in my office, I'll be there in a sec."

She nods and bounces off to the small room at the end of the hallway. Instantly, she lays back against the velvet couch in the corner, placing her backpack on the floor. As promised, Harry walks in a few minutes later, pulling off his plastic gloves and tossing them in the garbage can.

"How was your day?" he asks, leaning down to peck her lips. She hums, hands in her lap as he smiles down at her.

"Good. Class was boring, I was excited to come see you."

"Oh yeah?" he smirks, "You better have been paying attention and not letting your mind wander with those dirty thoughts of yours."

Y/N rolls her eyes. "Harry, you're the one that tries to have phone sex, like, every night."

"We'll get there one day, I think."

She laughs and shakes her head, crossing her legs. "What are you in the mood to eat for dinner tonight?"

"Mm, not sure," he replies, "I forgot, I have one deal to do before we head out for the day. 's why I came around to begin with. I hope that's alright."

She nods her head, "Yeah, that's fine."

"Thanks, princess," he murmurs, leaning forward to press a light kiss to her nose. "Who'd have thought, three months ago yo@u'd be dating the hot tattoo artist that sells weed on the side?"

"You're silly," she mumbles with a giggle, "But... to be honest, I never thought this is what my life would look like three months ago."

"I'm sure. Are you happy with it, though?"

Y/N has to bite her lip from grinning too hard.

"I don't think I could be any happier, Harry."

She squeals when he pushes her back against the length of the sofa to press kisses all over her face.

. . .

TAGS:

I know I asked people forever ago if they wanted to be tagged for my new writing and I'm literally just doing it now grjetkjre but please feel free to message me if that's changed ! (if your name is in italics it didn't work!)

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @cookielovesbook-akie @cali-888 @harrysolaf @gnomerry @vamprry @onllyyaangelbyhs @harrystylessslut @lovelylly @straightontilmornin @rizosrizo26 @redlightalexa @velvetballaspark @uniquesexything @canyonmoondreams @ghoststyles @whoreonmondays @esnyhoney @imnevergonnabloganything @honeyharlows @gem1712 @harryscherri @forgetdelaney

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renku · 2 months

Text

Up and Under

TWICE Chou Tzuyu x Male Reader

Sitting and staring nowhere in the middle of the park, holding a cup of coffee that went cold from that old vending machine nearby, and the freezing evening wind has no effect at all in your current state—high on adrenaline and it looks like it’d take an hour or two before it subsides in your system.

“This must remain just between us. Got it?”

Each word kept playing again and again in your head, like the same lyrics from the song five years ago that’s still not leaving your playlist. Not to mention how Chou Tzuyu—yes, the idol—whispered those words with her sexy yet cute voice along with a warm breath inducing goosebumps; from the back of your neck spreading down to your legs. You even started to question your reality. Did that really happen?

Everything that happened today was messed up, or to be exact, fucked up. But wait, how did you even get to this situation by the way?

It was about noon, and the usual routine at work is to take a break empty space upstairs before Inkigayo broadcast starts. Landing a job at a place like this isn’t something you thought of but there’s no much options on your hand, so here you are. The spot is usually silent since most are out to get their lunch. Lately, you prefer taking a nap up there since a bench is available. It’s crucial for you to have that time alone for yourself. One hour of freedom to collect your shit again is enough to get through to the rest of the shift. Work itself is already draining, but dealing with people is another.

The pace of your steps is increasing yet you still try not to make a sound. I should hurry before surviving another four hours of work, you thought. Getting closer to your so-called sanctuary, this is when things started to take a turn—a complete hundred and eighty turn.

It made you stop, and carefully listen again to make sure it’s not your head playing games at you.

“Yes— Hmm... Ah~”

You’re not definitely hearing things. It’s definitely a moan. A woman’s moan on top of that. She’s really into it; given how she lets out all those moans like no one will hear her and not giving a single damn.

Forget the nap, going back should be the immediate course action in this kind of situation. But, being a man and curiosity got the best of you.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, shit,” you whispered.

Taking extremely careful steps—almost tiptoeing, making that one, tempting peek. Lifted black skirt, fingerless-gloved right hand holding onto the handle for support, and probably her other hand doing the job. It’s quite difficult to recognize who she is since her loose, black hair covered the side of her face and a tent is already forming inside your pants. Each second that passes corresponds to the moans getting shorter and shorter, hinting that she’s close to that release.

“UGH! OH- YES, YES, OH FUCKKK!”

She threw head back, exposing the side of her face.

“Is that... Tzuyu?!” For a moment, you couldn’t move a muscle. Chou Tzuyu, who is known to be pure, kind, lovely, and innocent idol for years. Yet here she is, masturbating and made herself cum.

Your feet went cold stunned by what you just witnessed. Tzuyu then turned her head to where you are like she knew you were there all along, and not showing any sign of surprise at all when both of your eyes met. She's insanely fucking beautiful.

After fixing herself up and the mess she made, Tzuyu went right away to you. “This must remain just between us. Got it? Everything.” she whispered, then grabbed your hard member; fingers making random movements, playing with your already leaking rod making you jolt before adding, “Why don't you come here again next time? Same place, same time then maybe we can do some interesting things, don't you think?”

Does she even hear herself? How could she willingly say those words to someone she never knew her whole life. You can only nod to whatever she'll say, truth be told. The fact that a goddess like her is standing next to you is unreal.

“I got to go now, bye!” she said, winking and waving as she went on her way.

Back at the present—after reminiscing everything that happened all you could think of was, “I need to find a new job immediately.”

A/N: Hi. Ren (new name, can’t remember my old one) here. Plotless fic and not stuffed with much details to make it “smutty” enough, I just want to get the gist of writing again after not being able to make a stable progress after leaving the platform for about a year. So yeah, not much but I hope it will spark my enjoyment of writing again.

#smut #kpop smut #tzuyu #chou tzuyu #twice #twice smut

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megistusdiary · 10 days

Text

i have a vision i need you guys to see.

2000s!arle who's looking to get some sleeve fillers. her bandmate, tartaglia, recommends her to try this new shop. he told her the artist is "insanely talented," so she figures, why not?

(longer post/nsfw utc - tw smaller reader, transfem arle mentions)

when she walks in, she sees you sitting on the counter, legs swinging as you greet her.

"hey, welcome in. what can i help you with?" she watches you hop down off the counter, now having to look down at you given your shorter stature.

you don't look like you have many tattoos at all, funny enough. doesn't look like you really belong in a place like this, but she thinks you're a pretty cute counter-girl.

"i'm looking to get some sleeve fillers, sweetheart." she leans down over you, a hand on the wall by your head.

"go figure." you snort and she's a little taken aback.

"you're a little fiesty thing, huh?" she asks and you tilt your head. she cuts you off, waving her hand. "anyways, i'm thinking of adding onto my sleeve." she rolls up her shirt, flexing her bicep for you.

"do you have anything specific you want?"

"i have some ideas." she shrugs, leaning back to her full height with a smug little grin. "so, there an artist back there?" she gestures to the back of the shop.

"actually-"

once again, she cuts you off. "my friend said-" she takes her phone out, flipping the lid open and showing tartaglia's message with the artist's name on it. "she works here. you know her?"

you blink at the phone being shoved in your face, but you laugh anyway. "oh, really? you're looking for her?"

"yeah, what about it? is she shitty or something?" she doesn't seem to notice your half-annoyed eyeroll.

"nothing. i'll go set you up in the room." you tug her along, grabbing the consent forms and other things she'll need to fill out. "here, fill these out." you sit her in the chair, handing her the clipboard.

"aw, won't you stay with me? i get nervous when the ink comes out." she sends you an almost sleazy grin.

"oh, i'd love to, but i can't." you feign a pout. "gotta go get the artist." you grin and escape the room quickly, leaving her to her own devices.

she fills the papers out easily, having done so before many times.

she hears the door click, seeing a taller woman covered in tattoos walking in and setting up. she collects the paperwork from arlecchino, checking through it.

"cool, the artist will be in shortly."

arlecchino tilts her head. "it's not you?"

the woman arched an eyebrow, shrugging, closing the door again and leaving arlecchino in silence.

she looks around the room, hearing the door click open after a few minutes. "finally-" she turns around to see-

you?

she stiffens in the chair. "you're joking, right?" she asks with a laugh.

"what's the problem?" you scoff, sitting down on the chair next to the tattoo bed. "you don't trust me?"

"you don't have a speck of ink anywhere on you. how exactly am i supposed to trust you?"

"your friend seemed to think i was 'insanely talented,' right? do you trust him?" you counter and she bites the inside of her cheek.

she stays quiet while you set up, showing her some of your designs, which she picks from to fill in her sleeve.

she sits still the entire time, feeling your gloved hand on her skin. you look small next to her, cute, she thinks, and-

"stop staring at me." you cut her thoughts off without even looking away from her arm.

"can't help it, sweetheart." she quickly covers and you sigh. she grins mischievously up at you.

you set your gun down, grabbing her jaw and tugging her up to meet your gaze. "don't call me that. watch your mouth." you suddenly snap, your cute little aura gone, replaced by something darker.

it only makes her breath hitch, feeling your fingers on her jaw. "oh, little kitty has claws." she taunts and you scoff, leaning in.

your lips graze the shell of her ear and she shivers. "don't talk to me that way, or i swear, i'll have you on your fucking knees begging me for forgiveness." you mutter.

she isn't sure if it's a real threat, but the change in your tone is enough to have her nodding regardless. her mind is filled with thoughts of you, riding her, a hand on her throat as you control the pace.

you see her hardening beneath her jeans and you arch an eyebrow. "you're pretty pathetic for a flirt." you snap.

and she swears she could cum right then and there from just your gaze.

too bad you go right back to tattooing with everything re-sterilized.

damn.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #arlecchino #arlecchino x you #💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 7 months

Text

Kinktober (3)- Age Difference

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary: Separated from the rest of the group, you and Wanda find the perfect opportunity in the kitchen to have some alone time.

Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI, Mommy Kink, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Power Bottom Wanda, Implied cheating

Kinktober Masterlist

"Uh I don't think so young lady," your aunt, Natasha, says teasingly, taking the glass of wine you just picked up out of your hand. She simply raised her eyebrow at you, taking a sip herself of the drink as she watched with fake glare.

"Oh come on Nat," you grumbled, leaning back into your seat as your aunt chuckled at you, Wanda also laughing at the display. "Surely I can have one drink ," you stare at her with your best puppy eyes, hoping that even though you're an adult she'll give into the oldest trick in the book.

"You can have a drink when you're twenty one," she says with no room for challenge in her tone, yet you decide to try anyway, what's the worst she can do? Pour it on you?

"Please, everyone else is drinking," you motion to Wanda and Vision who sit together on the couch, Maria who sits in an arm chair and to Yelena who is casually sipping her beer while on her phone, most likely texting her girlfriend Kate. "And I'm basically twenty one, It's only two months."

"Well if it's only two months, I'm sure you can wait," she takes another large sip to taunt you, smirking over the rim of the glass as you groan in annoyance at her. "Also everyone else here is at least over twenty one."

"More like over thirty," you grumble, earning a real glare this time. "Fine," pushing yourself to your feet, you start heading towards the kitchen, "I'll go get myself a drink suitable for a twenty year old." You hear a chorus of laughter and shake your head while making your way through the house.

When you arrive at the kitchen you head straight to the fridge hoping to find something to drink and take back to the group. You frown when all you can see are juice boxes and groan when you remember this is Wanda and Visions house so everything is catered for children. Mumbling a small, "Fuck it," you grab two blackcurrant juice boxes and place one on the counter top while stabbing the straw through the other. You got lost in your thoughts as you moodily drank one of the twins drinks, jumping when a pair of arms wrapped around your middle.

"Hey Detka," she whispers into your ear, body flush against your back. "Enjoying the drink?" she teases making you groan once again, turning in her hold to face her. You stare up at the older woman, admiring her features as she smiles softly at you. Your mouth opens to make a snarky remark but your voice dies down when you feel her hands drift towards your ass and face lower, her lips now ghosting yours. "How about I give you something that tastes a lot better than any drink you can have?" she rasps out, accent delicately wrapping around her words.

"What about Vision?" you murmur, losing yourself in her darkening green eyes.

"He's too busy telling the others a work story," she slowly turns the two of you around, her now leaning against the marble countertop of her kitchen. "So?" one hand cups your jaw, tilting your face upwards to look at her better, "Do you want to make Mommy feel good?"

You lean forward to capture her lips, groaning at the lingering taste of alcohol on her lips and move your hands to hold her waist. You feel her tongue slide over your bottom lip, not hesitating to part your lips to allow her tongue to slide in and dominate your mouth. You groan into the kiss when her hands move up your body, one resting casually on your neck.

"We don't have time to play Detka," she murmurs between kisses before pulling back, "Be a good girl for Mommy and kneel." You practically drop to your knees at her sultry voice, staring up at her with lust-filled eyes as your hands slowly creep up her legs. When you reach the hem of her skirt you stop, the silent question in your eyes answered when she nods and threads a hand through your hair. Swiftly, you lift the skirt so your head can meet her core and groan quietly to yourself when you see she's not wearing any panties, her arousal dripping from her.

"Fuck Mommy, you're so beautiful," you mutter while place a few kisses on her thighs before leaning forwards to lick a stripe up her core.

"Shit Detka," she moans quietly, hands gripping the countertop till her knuckles start to bleed white. "Do you know how turned on Mommy was when she saw you earlier?" her voice breathy as she tries to control her volume, your tongue swirling over her clit not helping her stay quiet. "I was so tempted to drag you into the bathroom and have you on your knees like now, fucking me with that perfect little mouth of yours." You groan into her pussy at her words, one of your hands raising to her core so you could tease her entrance with your fingers. At the same time, you suck hard on her clit and thrust a finger into her, one of her hands clamping over her mouth to muffle the moan that erupted from the back of her throat. "That's it Detka, you're making Mommy feel so good," she praises quickly before placing her hand back over her mouth as you curl your finger inside her.

Your tongue continues to swirl around her clit as you add another finger into her, thrusting both digits into her mercilessly as you're addicted to the sound of the muffled moans echoing around the room.

"You taste so good Mommy," you murmur before pulling your fingers out, earning a low groan in response before a choked moan when you thrust your tongue into her. You relentlessly thrust it into her while your fingers go to her clit, circling it in time with the way you curl your tongue inside her to have her legs shake slightly as she supports herself with the countertop.

" God Detka, " she groans out, "Right there, fuck I'm gonna come." You feel her clench around your tongue, legs trembling by your head as her orgasm washes over her. You moan into her when you feel her cum coat your tongue and help her ride out her aftershocks by slowly circling her clit. Her hands gently push you away when she gets too sensitive, you sitting back on your feet as you look up at her with a dazed smile, her arousal all over your mouth. She pulls you up by the collar of your shirt and crashes her lips to yours, moaning into your mouth at the taste of herself. "Good girl," she praises one last time before she lets you clean your face off with a washcloth and tidies her appearance up.

"How's the drink coming along?" Natasha says while Maria wraps her arm around her middle, both of them holding empty wine glasses as they stroll into the kitchen. They pause in their tracks when they see you with a straw in your mouth, your hand holding the other juice box as you finished the first, while your cheeks seemingly flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh my god!" Maria exclaimed while Natasha burst out into laughter, placing down her glass so she wouldn't drop it. You scowled as they started to tease you for drinking a child's drink, defending yourself as best you could but to no avail. You grumbled under your breath before turning your gaze to Wanda who had a soft smile that lessened your bad mood.

You made your way out of the kitchen to avoid any more teasing but stopped at the door of the living room when Wanda grabbed your hand.

"Meet me later for your reward, you were such a good girl for Mommy."

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda fanfic #marvel fanfiction #wanda x you #eventual smut #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x female reader #smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #mommy k1nk #kinktober #risky #wanda maximoff oneshot

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