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sixosix · 2 days

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no one's ever had me, not like you

timeskip!hinata shoyo x reader

“Are you really sure that you’re swearing off of dating?”

You wonder how many times you’ll be asked that before you finally get pressured into mingling just to get them off your back. But Akane, bless her heart, looks genuinely concerned, like choosing to stay single was a cruel fate she wouldn’t wish for anyone to bear.

“It’s not a big deal,” you tell her. “Dating’s just not for me.”

You think back to all your previous relationships, and find that you have never been more sure of your decision.

“It just means you haven’t found the right one!” To your left, Yuki, who is alarmingly a lot of shots in, exclaims. She becomes violent when drunk. You would know, your arm is starting to turn red from her smacking when laughing.

You shrug uncomfortably. “I’m not looking for any right one.”

Akane and Yuki share a glance.

“Well, if you say so,” Akane cedes.

Then Yuki slams her hands on the table as she bolts upright, expression grave and voice low as she says, “We’re doing it, though, right?”

You laugh under your breath. Yuki looks a little ridiculous, drunk, and swaying on her feet even when standing still. Her grip on her glass wavers, and you quickly pluck it from her grasp, ignoring her protesting wail.

Akane brightens. “Yes! Of course we’re doing it!”

You instead hand Yuki a glass of water. “Doing what? Are you two up to no good again?”

“Yes!” Yuki exclaims at the same time Akane calmly clarifies, “Noya’s inviting close friends out for dinner tomorrow.” Which makes sense, because they were pretty much the same thing.

“Oh! Nishinoya’s back?”

“Just arrived today! He said he’s visiting for a while.” Akane fishes out her phone from her hand, then pulls out the class’s group chat that you could never bring yourself to check ever since it hit 999+ notifications. It displays a picture of Nishinoya holding up a peace sign, face serious, and next to a large airport sign.

You hum thoughtfully. “I guess if you guys are coming…”

“Let’s go!” Yuki pumps her fists in the air. Akane smiles and tells her to settle down. Akane drank twice as many shots than her.

“Who else is coming?” You ask. “I might pass if it’s the entire school.”

“Noya’s not that wild. I heard it’s just his volleyball team, Ryuunosuke, and us,” Akane says. “I heard they’re also celebrating because Noya’s treating his kouhai’s return from Brazil.”

“Brazil?” The other side of the world! “Yuu and his friends sure are adventurous,” you remark in amusement, sipping idly on your own drink. It’s milder than either of theirs since you were assigned as the designated driver.

“You’ve heard of the guy. Hinata Shoyo, I think it was.”

You inhale your drink and start heaving. Akane’s hands flutter all over you in panic while Yuki descends in deep thought.

Yuki snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Wasn’t that the first year who had a big crush on you when we were in second year? Noya’s favorite kouhai, Shoyo.”

Hinata Shoyo.

The first time you met Hinata Shoyo was when Nishinoya decided to invite close friends to watch them play. It was an ordinary day, and they had just come back from the Interhigh preliminaries. Their coach agreed to let them take it slow and relax, so Noya used it as an opportunity to invite his friends (it was just you who was free) to watch (read: to show off).

Having nothing better to do during club hours, you agreed.

You were late, stuck with cleaning duty, and forced to catch up to Noya, who had first wheeled into the volleyball gymnasium. The door was shut. You took deep, deep breaths before sliding it open and nearly having your face flattened by a volleyball speeding towards you.

Well, of course, it was a volleyball gymnasium.

Luckily, you managed to swerve out of the way and prevent long-lasting damage to your face. But the shock was more brutal than the would-be impact. You gaped at the ball that rolled onto the grass miles away. Just how fast was that thing?

“Y/N!” Nishinoya’s voice rang throughout the stunned silence of the gym.

Your head whipped around just in time to see a little guy with a mop of orange hair bound over to you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—-” He then looked up at you, now only inches away, and seemed to have run out of apologies. His face exploded in a bright shade of red, but his eyes looked like they were bluescreening.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fine!” You wave your hand to dismiss his guilt. “I didn’t actually get hit. Well—almost. But I didn’t! That was amazingly fast!” You hoped the praise would snap him out of it, but he was still gaping at you like you’d grown two heads. Or maybe you had something on your face?

Nishinoya comes barreling over soon enough, brows furrowed. “Y/N! Are you okay? You could’ve died!”

You frowned. “Idiot. I’m not going to die from that.”

Your statement seemed to shatter the tension that froze everyone in place. The captain murmured for them to continue practicing as Noya fluttered all over you like a mother hen, insisting on an ice pack.

Tanaka materialized out of nowhere. “Y/N! It’s you!”

“Ryuu!” You exclaim in delight, returning his hug. “Ryuu, it’s nice to see you again!”

Nishinoya turned to the tiny redhead with a raised eyebrow. “You good, Shoyo?”

Shoyo finally flinched out of his daze, narrowly avoiding your curious eyes. “Y-Yes! I’m just—I’ll go get the ball!” he squeaked out, nearly tripping over his own feet on a flat surface.

Nishinoya snorted, sharp eyes following Shoyo. “I think he has a crush on you.”

Tanaka cackled. “No way! Is that why Hinata looks so constipated?”

Hinata Shoyo. You glanced back just in time to catch him fumbling with the volleyball, trembling like a frightened mouse. It’s cute.

Now, you can confidently state that Hinata Shoyo is no longer just cute. Five years later, July, in an unsuspecting get-together party hosted by Nishinoya, and Hinata Shoyo definitely isn’t the same as before.

“Everyone!” Nishinoya’s voice bellows out throughout the venue. For such a small guy, he has the voice of a booming speaker. “Everyone, quiet! Shoyo’s here!”

Choruses of Hinata! echo through everyone as the crowd dispersed and bounded over to where Nishinoya was. You hear a faint laugh and a “Thank you!” From here, you could tell that his voice had gotten deeper. Still light and high, but it was different from the squeakiness you remembered.

Ever since finding out that Hinata had been back from Brazil, it turns out that his grand debut in the Nationals was aired all over. He’s famous now, not just some kid in Karasuno’s Volleyball Club.

“Ooh,” Yuki giggles maniacally. She hasn’t drunk anything yet. “He’s here. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”

“I doubt it. It was probably because I was his senpai back then. Remember how you reacted to Daichi-san visiting our hall? Everyone in our class was swooning, especially the boys!”

“Something about volleyball players, I tell you,” Yuki says, her gaze drifting over to where Akane was giggling as she talked with them. “Hmm. Speaking of them, I think one of them is on his way here.”

“What?”

Yuki takes one last sip of her tequila shot and leaves without another word. You didn’t have to turn—didn’t even have to move. You can feel his presence the moment he is right behind you, like a burst of warmth hovering, but it’s gold and bright, so you’re not terrified

Hinata Shoyo sits beside you, asking for a drink. You can’t help but stare.

He turned to you, then seemed to do a double take. Hinata Shoyo—now built twice as big as he once was; no longer the cute, lanky, and short kouhai from your past; with neatly trimmed hair and a much deeper voice—stares at you in astonishment. Hinata Shoyo emits a wordless exclamation.

“Senpai!” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Hinata,” you laugh softly, fondly. “We’re not in high school anymore. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. You can just call me Y/N.”

“Y-You—” He splutters, face tinged pink despite the untouched shot in front of him. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.” You smile, tilting your head and grinning wider at the way his eye catches on the curve of your neck. “So, how have you been?”

He forgets about the drink he just ordered, seemingly getting redder in the face as you inch closer. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed he was drunk. Hinata Shoyo grins sheepishly, blushing and looking beautiful under the dim lighting of the venue.

Swearing off of dating, hmm…

You consider him—his bright eyes, his wide and ever-genuine smile, and his undivided attention on you. Does he still have a crush on you? Or was it just the surprise that had him so flustered? You throw your head back and gulp down a shot, ignoring the burn that slid down your throat. You suppose there was no harm in finding out.

#haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shouyou x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #haikyuu imagines

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januaryembrs · 17 hours

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hot chocolate!

(last one i promise)

reader & spencer who aren’t exactly enemies but they’re def not friends but reader always double checks if spencer’s fbi vest is secured correctly which in return makes spencer check her over as well and they’re always like ‘stop checking up on me and worry about your own safety’ and it just happens every single time and they swear up and down that they dislike eachother deeply (they need to make out)

BANE OF MY EXISTENCE | Spencer Reid x reader

description: Spencer hates you, and you hate him, until it comes to protecting each other in the field

length: 0.7k

His fingers wound through the back of your vest as you made a move to dart past him, trailing after Hotch as you loaded your glock.

You felt a yank at your neck, his obnoxiously long arms giving you a firm tug back with little to no effort, all but making you stumble backwards as he forced you to stop, and his fingers were at your hip, adjusting the strap before you could ask him just exactly what he was doing.

“Wha- Reid, let go, my vest is fine,” You snapped, huffing when he ignored you, in the interest of fixing your belt, his brow turned down into a frown.

“Don’t come crying to me when you get shot in abdomen and suddenly you’re bleeding out, and you lay there and thinking, dang if only the smart FBI would have told me to adjust my kevlar, and I’ll be right there to point and laugh and say I told you so,” He huffed, his fingers making light work of the fiddly strap, tightening it until he couldn’t see a single inch of your shirt to the point he heard your breathing constrict, but he thought he’d rather you be a little uncomfortable than shot.

“I mean, if I’m laying bleeding out I won’t really have much to say other than, Reid, get medical, I think they hit something serious, please don’t come to my funeral, you were insufferable enough when I was living,” You said, allowing your body to be tugged back as he started on the other side, because there was no use fighting it when he got in those moods when he always needed to be right.

He paused, his brain catching up to your words and he drew in a silent breath, wondering if the other side of your jacket needed tightening even more, or better yet, if there was any way Hotch would make you stay in the car as back up.

Spencer yanked the strap with a vendetta, ignoring the way you whined it was too tight, and his lips pursed together.

“Would you relax, I was clearly kidding,” You said, thinking his mood had come from your teasing, because you seemed to know exactly what to say to push every one of his buttons, “What I would probably be thinking however is if you’ll be able to flag down a medic with your shoelaces untied,”

His gaze snapped to his converse, and sure enough the double knot he relied on seemed to have failed him, and his strings were hazard material as they dragged along the pavement, already mucky where they’d probably been undone for hours.

“Make sure you do them before we move in, I’m not carrying your bone head out of there if we start taking hits and you trip over your own feet,” You snipped, and he finally released you, immediately leaning down to fix his own issues, completely missing the way your eyes trailed down to make sure he did the loops tight enough because you were being serious when you said it would loathe you to be the one to carry him away from the danger, though probably not in the way he thought.

He huffed, standing back to his full height and giving his feet a wiggle in their shoes to make sure they were comfortable, and he looked back at you where you were watching him carefully, catching the split second where something close to worry pooled in your eyes.

It snapped back into your usual cold demeanour when you realised he was looking straight at you, and you whirled you keep your back to him, inspecting your loaded gun some more as a way to busy yourself.

“Try not to miss, it doesn’t look good on the reports when I have to save your ass twice,” Spencer snarked, and he practically heard the scoff before you even gave it.

“That was one time, Reid, and it was only cause I couldn’t see past your stupid fluffy hair. You’re a cop, Reid, not a poodle, you don't need that much volume,” You snapped back, the two of you squabbling the entire walk to the building, until Hotch separated you for the sake of his growing headache.

He just wished you two would talk things out before he seriously considered Emily’s proposition of locking you in the broom closet together.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader

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paarthunaxx · 1 day

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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 CALL MY NAME, I’M YOURS TO TAME — 18+

larissa weems x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

status: completed

summary: You and Larissa Weems have been best friends since your years spent together at Nevermore. You have been meeting for tea every week since your graduation. But when the pharmacy in Jericho runs out of heat suppressants, you have to miss your afternoon tea with her.

And Larissa, being the dutiful best friend, pays you a visit instead.

tags: smvt, fluff, werewolf reader, in heat, kn0tting, decades of mutual pining, established friendship, soft larissa weems, larissa weems with a d1ck, shapeshifting, p in v, nickname mommy, nickname puppy

read here on ao3!

“Here is your tea, dear.”

“Thanks, Riss,” You take the teacup from Larissa’s pale hands and rub the pad of your thumb over the painted golden rim of the cup before setting it down on a pretty white saucer. “So, anything else to catch me up on this week?”

Larissa takes a long sip from her own florally adorned teacup and sinks into the armchair across from you. “Do you remember Morticia Frump?” She asks with the smallest hint of bitterness on her tongue. It doesn't come as a surprise to you. Larissa is a sweet woman, but you don't think you've ever heard her speak about Morticia without that resentment in her voice.

“Yes. Your roommate from when we attended Nevermore?” You nod and settle back into your own chair, folding one leg over the other. You notice Larissa’s gaze lingering on them for a flash of a moment, but don’t bother bringing it up. “You’ve spoken to her recently?”

Larissa gives a grim incline of her head and huffs a soft sigh through her nose. “Indeed. She called last night to request that I meet her child and consider enrolling her in the school.”

“And will you?” You ask curiously, lifting your teacup and taking a slow sip. There is just the right amount of sugar and milk mixed in. Larissa always makes the perfect cup of tea.

“I have a duty to look after the children of outcasts. I would not cast a young girl out just because I am not on the best of terms with her mother,” Larissa whispers. “I just wish I did not have to meet Morticia in order to enrol her daughter. I’m afraid it will be too painful to see her again.”

You send a sympathetic smile in her direction and shift forward in your seat. Leaning across the coffee table, you reach out to squeeze her knee. Her breath hitches at the touch as she watches you like a hawk. “It’ll be okay, Riss. Everything happened so long ago. And if she annoys you… Just think about all the different ways you’d like to fight her, then tell me all about it next week.”

Larissa giggles at that and places her large hand over your smaller one which rests on her knee, giving it a gentle pat. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, which you mentally blame on static. “You are right. There’s no point in being so absorbed in the past.”

“I usually am right,” You tease with a soft laugh. “Be the bigger person.”

Larissa raises a neatly plucked eyebrow at that. An amused smirk dances across her painted lips and she quips, “Pun intended?”

You snort around another sip of tea, almost spitting the stuff everywhere. You manage to choke it down and the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. After your laughter trails off, you spend another half an hour catching each other up on everything that has happened in the past week. Just like you have been doing every week for… well, years.

Larissa has been your best friend since you both attended Nevermore. Many times you have looked at her and wondered if there could be something more between you, but you don’t even know if she would want that. If she even likes women. And you’re terrified to risk your friendship by asking her out… No matter how much you adore her.

When the teacups have been drained and the grandfather clock pushed up against the wall starts to chime the hour, you sigh and lean back in your chair. “Time for me to get going.”

Larissa tsks softly, a playful pout poking out her lower lip. “Shame. Time always flies by so quickly with you.”

“I know,” You agree with a short nod. “Maybe we should start doing sleepovers instead of tea.”

“Maybe,” She whispers. A soft pink blush dusts across her pale cheeks and she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. She nudges her empty cup of tea out of the way and rises from her chair, towering over you. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

Oh, how you'd love to climb her like a tree.

You follow her out of her dimly lit office and walk by her side as she leads you through the school to the large front entrance. You fit in some more idle chatter along the way through the familiar hallways, before coming to a stop on the stone steps outside.

“Until next week, dear,” Larissa leans down to wrap her arms around you, giving you a tight hug.

“See you then, Riss,” You stretch up on your tiptoes to hug her back, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of her sweet perfume lingering in your nose.

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” She whispers in your ear. There is such conviction in her soft voice that it feels as though she truly means those words.

She gives your waist a gentle squeeze and you reluctantly pull away from her. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as your brain immediately cries out in protest at the absence of her warmth. With one final goodbye, you turn away from her and make your way down the steps, bracing yourself for the walk home in the bitter afternoon air.

ᥫ᭡

You hum a soft tune to yourself as you bustle around your apartment, struggling with the bundle in your arms. You snatch up every pillow and blanket you can find, tossing them onto the bed to be arranged into a nest later. Each of them have been picked out specifically for the purpose of nesting, every one as warm and comfortable as possible. The pile on the bed is almost bigger than you, and you stand and stare at the mess of blankets with a proud smile on your face. Although you have your suppressants, it still feels comforting to bury into your nest during your heat, even if it is just to nap or read a book. Like being wrapped up in a warm hug from La—

You startle at the sudden shrill ringing of your phone from where it rests on your nightstand. You place a hand over your thundering heart and puff out a breath to calm yourself. In a few long strides, you cross the room and snatch the phone up to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hello! This is the Jericho pharmacy calling,” The familiar voice of Mrs Jones, the pharmacist, comes from the other end of the phone. “We are so terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but we will not be able to refill your prescription for suppressants at the moment. Our supplier has had a stock issue, and we have to wait for more to come from a bigger supplier in the city.”

“What?” You swallow hard, your eyes widening. Panic splits through you like branching lightning, your hand curling into a fist around the phone so hard you almost shatter it. “How long will that take?”

“Around a week and a half,” The pharmacist informs you.

“A week and a half? But… My heat starts tomorrow, and I don’t have any suppressants,” You whisper. “I haven’t gone through a heat in years. You don’t even have enough to get me through the week?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry. We can fill your next prescription free of charge as an apology for the delay. And if you need scent blockers, we can have them dropped outside your door.”

“Alright… Well, thank you for telling me. See you in a week and a half,” You hang up and toss your phone on the bed. Scrubbing your hands irately down your face, you mutter one word.

“Shit.”

ᥫ᭡

Sleep doesn’t come easily to you that night. Even wrapped up in the bundles of pillows and blankets that have been arranged for your nest, you can’t stop tossing and turning. Anxiety floods through your veins, making your body feel cold and your chest tight. It’s been so long since you allowed your body to go through a heat. There will be years of pent up energy in control of your body, and it's terrifying. You turned to the internet, searching through outcast forums to find out whether it will be more intense when it comes. Every werewolf in the world seems to be in agreement.

The longer it’s been, the worse your next heat will be.

By the time morning comes, you haven’t slept a wink. You sigh and force yourself out of your bed, shuffling to the kitchen to shove a cup of coffee down your throat. As you stir the sugar cubes into your favourite mug, your gaze happens to drift towards the calendar pinned up on your wall. On the square for that day, there is a large red circle with a little teacup scribbled in the middle.

“Shit,” You hiss for what feels like the millionth time in the last twelve hours. You stand there and stare at the doodle of the teacup, pondering whether you should still try to attend or call Larissa up and tell her you can’t make it to tea that day.

You know if you venture out of the house and your heat comes on, any alpha nearby will be able to smell you from a mile away. There may not be that many in Jericho, but even one would pose such a great danger to you… Never mind the werewolf students at Nevermore.

It would also be incredibly embarrassing to go into heat right in front of your best friend, and have her drive you home as you gush all over the seats of her car and whine in need. You shudder at the thought of what Larissa might think of you after something like that.

Before you can even make a proper decision on what to do, an odd feeling shoots through you. You feel your knees going weak, a sticky liquid clinging to your thighs and soaking your shorts. Another curse slips out as you clutch onto the edge of the counter, gasping at the coiling sensation twisting through your lower stomach. Your whole body shakes and you grab onto the counter for dear life.

Looks like you definitely won’t be seeing Larissa today.

You abandon your coffee, letting it go cold on the counter as you drag yourself back into your bedroom. It’s a difficult trip. Your legs threaten to give out beneath you the whole way there, your mind screaming at you to lay down with them spread and just hope an alpha happens to come along. Your brain has never felt so fuzzy before. You’ve never felt so stupid.

The moment you make it back to your room, you throw yourself into the nest. Your clothes are off in an instant. Flung carelessly in a heap in the corner. With trembling hands, you reach into your nightstand and grab a small purple bullet vibrator, fumbling around to switch it on. The trusty little toy has been used many times in the past while you thought of Laris— of… stuff. As soon as it makes contact with your aching clit you whine and arch off the bed, your body flooding with relief now that you finally have some friction. You bring yourself to the peak within minutes. And again. And again. And again…

But it’s not enough.

You shove your fingers inside while stimulating yourself with the bullet. Two isn’t enough. You add another. Not enough. You sob and writhe, your stupid mutt brain and your body aching for one thing. A quick glance at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand shows the time Larissa should be waking up for the day. You know you should let her know while your brain still works somewhat.

You lick your dry lips and reach out for your phone. Reluctantly, you switch off the vibrator and set it to the side while you call Larissa. She answers almost immediately.

“Hello, darling,” Her sweet, sleepy voice comes through the other end of the phone. “Are you alright?”

Biting back the soft whine that bubbles up from your chest proves almost impossible. The sound of her voice sends another flash of desire through you, your essence coating your shaking thighs. “Larissa,” You whisper hoarsely. “I… I can’t… Make it… Today…”

Concern rings clear through her voice as she hears you panting. “Oh? Is everything alright, dear?”

“Yeah,” Your fingers gravitate towards your swollen clit, rubbing at it slowly as you listen to her speak. You gasp before you can bite back the sound, and clear your throat. “Yeah. Just… Don’t feel so good. I’ll see you next week?”

“Okay… Get better soon, alright? Do call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” The words come out in a breathless mumble before you hang up the phone and chuck it to the side. Just the memory of her voice has you growing wetter by the second, your fingers coated in your juices as you desperately try to satisfy yourself. Flashes of her face shoot through your mind, of her large hands and long fingers…

The vibrator is snatched up again in an instant.

You spend the next hour pleasing yourself without a break. Overstimulation makes your body jolt and twitch, but you can’t stop. You can’t. It just isn’t enough. Your mind is well and truly mush at this point, shown in the way your gaze drifts towards the door and for just a second, you consider opening the door and letting your scent waft out. Waiting for the first alpha to come and claim you.

For a moment, you seriously think about it. It would make your heat more bearable. Yes, said alpha might do horrible things to you, and you don’t really want that, but…

Before you can do anything stupid, the doorbell rings.

Sobbing in frustration, you set your vibrator down again. You force yourself up on shaky legs, not bothering to put pants on. You simply tug the oversized t-shirt down over yourself and shuffle to the front door, yanking it open.

Standing there in front of you is Larissa. Clutched in her hands is a wicker basket stuffed full of gifts. Teabags, cough drops, a couple of face masks, some flowers and a small teddy bear. “Hello,” Larissa greets you with a bright smile. “Since you aren’t well, I thought I would bring—” As soon as she catches sight of you, her words trail off. “...Oh.”

“Larissa,” You gasp. You have to grip onto the door frame to keep yourself upright. Your cheeks are flushed beyond belief, your eyes glazed over and distant. There is a thin layer of sweat on your skin, not to mention the wet patches on the back of your long shirt and your thighs. “I’m in heat.”

Her own cheeks flush when she hears those words. “I… I thought you didn’t go into heat. I thought you took pills.”

“I do. Pharmacy ran out.” Those are the only words you can manage before another tidal wave of need crashes through you and you whimper, sinking to the ground.

“Oh, my darling…” Larissa coos and invites herself inside. She closes and locks the door behind her, sets the gift basket down on the coffee table, then lifts you gently from the floor. She pulls her coat off and folds it over the back of the couch, then slips her feet out of her high heels. “Come on, my sweet. Let’s get you nice and comfortable, okay?”

You know there is no comfortable for you right now, but you don’t dare mention that to her when she is being so sweet. So attentive. You feel yourself getting more wet.

She scoops you up into her arms with ease and carries you to the bedroom. Her chest rumbles a little when she clears her throat upon seeing the vibrator carelessly left on your soaked sheets. Thankfully, she says nothing about it and carefully sets you down.

It kills you to have her so close. You just want to rut against her milky white thigh and have her praise you, you want those long fingers inside you, you want her mouth on you. You’ve loved her for decades, but you’ve never felt such intense need for her in all that time.

“Larissa,” You whimper again, but you have nothing to say. You just need her attention.

“Poor thing,” She whispers. She hesitates for half a second before reaching out to brush her fingertips over your slick thigh. “What can I do for you, dear?”

That simple touch over your thigh alone makes you jolt and gasp. “Don’t… ask me that,” You plead. “You won’t like the answer.”

Larissa leans closer, her larger frame looming over yours as she reaches her free hand out to cup your chin. Her fingers are so gentle as they tilt your head back, as though she is handling something as delicate as a porcelain doll. “What can I do for you, dear?” She repeats in a firm whisper.

You melt as you’re forced to stare up into her sapphire eyes. It feels like you could become nothing more than a puddle in a pile of blankets if she continues this. “I…”

“Tell me,” She urges. Keeping her gaze fixed on you, she dips her head and presses a sweet little kiss to your jaw. “Let me help you. Tell me how.”

As pathetic as it is, the very little resolve you had left snaps as soon as you feel her lips on your skin. “Fuck me,” You pant, raising your hips unabashedly.

“Are you sure?” She asks, her grip on your chin growing slightly firmer. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’ll do that for you if that’s what you need, but I don’t want you to regret it later…”

“Larissa!” You groan before breaking out into a pathetic ramble. “I won’t regret it. I have loved you since we were teenagers, you’re the love of my life, there is literally nobody else in this world I would rather have help me with this. You must know that. You must have picked up on how much I love y—“

Before you can even finish that word, her lips are on yours.

Both of her hands move to pin your hips to the bed, forcing you to keep still instead of uselessly writhing around. The sheets beneath you become soaked almost to the point of ruin as she kisses you hard, her tongue brushing against yours desperately. You struggle to keep up with the searing heat of her kiss, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she takes complete control. Your hips fight against her hold, and as a result she pins you down harder.

“Riss,” You whine against her lips.

“I know, darling,” She shushes you, one of her hands drifting from your hip to between your legs. You gasp out as her fingers press against you, teasing between your folds. “I know. Give me a minute, okay?”

“Can’t,” A soft sob slips past your parted lips as you pant, the pure desire for her making your body shake. “Can’t. Need you to knot me.”

“You need to wait a moment for my powers to work,” As though trying to sate you for the moment, two of Larissa’s long fingers slip inside you while her thumb rubs at your clit. When you gasp and arch into the feeling, she coos softly and begins kissing along the column of your throat. “My poor puppy. So desperate, aren’t you?”

All you can do is whine, unable to decide whether you should arch into her kisses or her fingers. Another orgasm rips through you as she circles your clit, your body squeezing around her fingers as you gasp and squirm.

“That’s it,” Larissa praises, lightening her hold on your hip. “That’s it, sweetheart. Ride it out.”

You don’t need more convincing than that as your hips move wildly through it, taking everything those digits are giving you.

But you still need more. More sobs leave you and you stare up at her pleadingly. The ability to form words on your lips has left you entirely. All you can do is whimper like the pathetic little thing you are.

“I know, puppy,” She suddenly slips her fingers out of you, making you whine louder. She shushes you firmly and you fall silent in an instant. She straightens up to her full height and begins hitching her skirt up to her thighs, unclipping her stockings and pulling down her panties. Your whole body seizes up at the sight of the penis beneath her skirt, hard and already leaking. She seems to have taken size into account, knowing you will be stretched with the knot. It isn’t too long or thick, made perfectly to fit in your tight hole.

She’s so damn considerate you can’t believe it.

Larissa lays back against the mountain of pillows you have set up, giving herself a tantalising stroke before patting her lap. “Come here, pup.”

You don’t hesitate, scrambling across the bed and setting yourself on one of her large thighs. You fight the urge to rut against it, knowing there is a much better reward waiting right there for you if you’re a good girl for her. She rests her hands on your hips and carefully guides you over here. The leaking tip of her cock rubs against your folds, teasing your clit.

“Are you positive you want this?” Larissa questions in a gentle whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It won’t hurt,” You assure her and cup her cheek. A little smile twists at your lips as she leans into the touch and sighs. Even if she hadn't created her cock to fit you perfectly, you would be so soaked and opened up by this point she could fit inside easily without hurting you.

“Okay. Relax for me, dear,” She nods. She surges forward to capture your lips with her own again. Her big hands pull you closer, and as she distracts you by kissing you like a woman starved, she slips inside you. Both of you gasp in unison, the sensation unfamiliar to each of you. She groans as your tight pussy clenches around her, taking her time to sink deeper and deeper inside you.

That isn’t going to fly with you.

Without warning, you slam your hips down and sheathe her fully inside you. She moans in surprise and chokes out, “Darling—”

Finally getting what you’ve wanted this whole time, you don’t stop. You fuck yourself feverishly on top of her, taking her cock deep inside you over and over again. You keen and whimper as your lips trail down to her neck, sucking and biting at every inch of pale skin you can reach. Even as your mind starts to blur, you have to force yourself not to sink your tiny fangs into her throat and claim her.

“Darling, please, slow down—” Despite her pleading words, her hands continue to guide your hips at the brutal pace you have set for yourself. Her head tips back against the headboard, harsh pants leaving her parted lips every second. “Gods, you need to slow down—”

The stretch of her cock inside you is like pure heaven. To finally be filled, and have her doing it, is the most exhilarating thing you could ever dream of. Having her hit that spot deep inside you, hearing her moans and knowing you are the cause of them. You’re sure you’ve had this wet dream about a hundred times over the past couple of decades, but fuck none of those dreams could ever compare to the real thing.

“You want me to slow down?” You pant in her ear, willing to do whatever she wants even that means slowing down when you just want her to fuck your brains out.

“Gods, no,” She whispers and pulls you down as she starts meeting you halfway in quick thrusts.

You moan in sheer delight, melting against her chest as she fucks you hard. Like she’s been holding back these same feelings for just as long as you have, and now she finally gets to let them out. She holds you tight to her chest with one hand while the other squeezes your ass, kneading it appreciatively between her fingers.

“Riss, I—” You gasp as yet another climax starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. You can already feel this one is more intense than the others, and not just because you’re far beyond oversensitive at this point.

“That’s it,” Larissa coos, “come for me, darling. Let me feel you coming around me like a good pup.”

That is all the encouragement you need. This orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami as she pumps into you hard enough to fill the room with harsh slapping sounds. Your nails tear into her shoulders, sharpening into claws that rip right through her nice blazer. Clinging onto her for dear life, your whiny moans fill the room. All you can do is keep riding her and taking her with every deep thrust as your body jolts and writhes under her hold, your whole being on fire with the pleasure she gives you.

“You want mommy to knot you, sweetheart? Want me to fill up that sweet little pussy?” She pants. Your body tightens around her cock at the sound of those words and she giggles, gripping your hips and dragging you down even harder into every snap of her own. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” You pant, nuzzling your nose into her neck and becoming pliant in her hands, allowing her to do whatever she wants with you. “Please please please. Please knot me.”

Moments later, she gives you exactly what you want. She moans sweetly into your ear, her thrusts growing sloppy before she buries herself all the way inside you. She gasps and pants as her release pulses through you, the base of her cock swelling and keeping her stuck inside your pussy.

“You’re mine, now,” She whispers possessively into your ear. You’ve never heard her use that tone with you before, and it makes you shiver with another wave of need. If she wasn’t already stuck in you, you’d be riding her all over again just for that. She brushes some hair back from your sweaty face and kisses your temple. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“I’m yours,” You repeat in a brainless whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Larissa sighs, brushing her nose against your cheek. “I love you so, so much.”

She holds you for a long time, rubbing her hands up and down your back and praising you in a gentle voice. When she can finally pull out of you, she does so slowly, not wanting to hurt your sensitive hole. She curls a finger inside you to feel her own come filling you, and shivers at the feeling of her own stickiness on her fingertip.

“Just beautiful,” She murmurs and casts her blue eyes up to your face. “Do you feel better now, pup?”

“Yeah,” You nod, still a panting mess -- but a satisfied panting mess. “Thank you, Larissa. You… You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” She scoops you up and holds you close to her chest, before slipping her long legs over the side of the bed and carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

“Larissa?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Did you really mean it?” You ask nervously as you peer up at her. “When you said you loved me?”

“Of course,” Larissa smiles down at you. Her eyes shine with sincerity, and you can tell there isn’t a hint of dishonesty in her words. “I’ve loved you for… a very long time, sweetheart.”

There is a flutter of hope deep in your stomach as you swallow down a lump in your throat. “You have?”

“Yes.”

You can’t even bring yourself to say all of the things you want to as she perches you on the edge of the bath and begins running the hot water. As the steam fills the bathroom and she pours scented liquid into the water, all you can do is stare at her. At the red lipstick smudged across her beautiful lips, at her flushed cheeks visible even beneath her pale foundation. Her hair is still neatly pinned into place, she still looks eternally graceful despite the slight dishevelled appearance around her. This woman loves you. This… this goddess, standing before you, loves you.

“Larissa?” You clear your throat.

“Yes?” She chuckles, clearly amused by your line of questioning.

“After my heat ends, would you like to go on a date with me?” You blurt out before you can talk yourself out of it.

Larissa watches you for a long moment, a smile twitching at her painted lips. Eventually she nods, reaching out to caress your face. “I would love that.”

She bathes you with a great deal of care, making sure to be delicate near your swollen clit and cum-filled hole. You soon convince her to join you as another rush of heat goes through you, and she knots you again in the bath. Then she has to wash you all over again. Over the course of the next three days, the two of you can’t stop fucking. A couple of decades of pent up desire makes itself known in the course of a few days. During some point in those three days, she creates a set of long canine teeth for herself, sinks them into your throat and marks you as her own. At the end of it, you’re both utterly exhausted, but you’re happy.

So fucking happy.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #larissa weems fanfic #larissa weems fanfiction #larissa weems x reader fic

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jflemings · 3 days

Text

— busted

pairing: jessie fleming x arsenal!reader {piper’s world}

synopsis: sam offers to babysit piper while you go out on a date and decides to drag niamh along. piper accidentally spills the beans on you and jessie’s budding relationship

warnings: none!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🪽 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“y/n!” sam calls as her and niamh enter your apartment. she takes off her shoes and gestures for her teammate to do the same before the sound of small feet pitter-pattering draws her attention.

piper is going as fast as her little legs can carry her, her arms outstretched as she runs towards sam. she’s grinning big and giggles loudly when sam bends down and picks her up, tossing her in the air slightly.

“sammy!” her boisterous giggles bounce off the walls.

“pippa!” sam echoes back

the striker holds piper close to her and points to niamh “you remember niamh, don’t you?”

piper nods and waves “hi niamh”

the defender softly says hi back just as you stick your head around the corner “oh my god thank you so much for doing this” you thanks as you lean down to zip up your left boot “i’m sorry it’s so last minute, i’ll get you both something to make up for it”

“don’t worry about it” sam waves off “i’d do anything to spend time with piper, and niamh here was just sitting at home” you says jerking her thumb behind her.

you pat yourself down and check your purse to make sure you’ve got everything before running a finger under your eye “i shouldn’t be back too late” you assure the duo.

sam nods “tell me again about this date”

you roll your eyes “there’s not much to tell. we met through a mutual friend and hit it off”

“and when can i meet this mystery woman?” she cocks her brow

you pause and bite your lip before shrugging “i’ll let you know”

sam rolls her eyes as you redirect your attention to niamh, smiling briefly “there’s left over pasta in the fridge but i’ve also left money on the counter if you wanna order in, she’s been fed and bathed, bed time is eight thirty, and if she wants a snack there’s a variety in the cupboard” you tell the two chelsea players as you grab your coat “and do not let her bully you into allowing her to stay up late” you point at the both of them.

niamh’s hands go up in surrender “got it. food in fridge, bed at half past eight, snacks in the cupboard, don’t let her bully us” she lists off, earning a nod of approval from you.

“you’re a natural” you playfully wink at her before kissing piper’s head “be good for sammy and niamh. i don’t want any trouble” you say pointedly

piper nods her head “you be good too, mummy” she says as she lays her head on sam’s shoulder.

you usher the two women further into your apartment as you check your phone, your eyes widening at the realisation that you’re going to be late. you blow your daughter a kiss and wave the three of them goodbye, closing the door and leaving them to their own devices.

“have fun on your daaaaate!” sam calls out as you shut the door, smiling smugly to herself.

over her shoulder, niamh and piper share a look “you wan’a colour?”

two hours later sam is sitting on the floor of your lounge room with multicoloured clips in her hair. piper holds onto her shoulder as she focuses on finding a place for a sparkly butterfly clip.

she clips it in the front of sam’s hair and then holds out her small hand “‘nother please niamh” she says politely.

“of course” the defender says whilst trying to hold in her giggles “another butterfly?”

piper stops to think for a minute “yes please”

sam flicks through the kids section on netflix patiently “what do ya wanna watch, kiddo?”

“turtles please” piper answers as niamh hands her a blue butterfly clips “blue for cheelseaaa” she drags out as she carefully placed the clip in sam’s hair.

sam finds the animated ninja turtle show piper’s talking about and smirks “blue for chelsea because we play for chelsea?”

“no” she says matter-a-factually “blue for chelsea because jessie plays for chelsea”

niamh stills for a moment “you know jessie?”

sam nods her head “i introduced them a—”

“of course i know jessie” piper interrupts dramatically “jessie has sleepovers!”

the two women pause and share a look. niamh raises her brows as sam shrugs her shoulders, the two of them having a wordless conversation.

piper, being none the wiser to it, continues “and colours with me and plays with me” she goes on, holding out her hand again.

niamh’s on auto pilot as she hands the toddler another clip, her unblinking expression identical to sam’s.

“all done!” piper cheers as she claps her hands, holding up a hand held mirror to sam so she can look at her hair. sam takes the mirror and nods her head before turning to piper.

“do you see jessie all the time or just sometimes?”

“all the time” piper nods “mummy and jessie go out sometimes so i get to go to stephy”

niamh’s eyes go wide “and mummy and jessie… are they—”

“mummy and jessie are bestest friends” piper giggles as she situates herself in sam’s lap “they say so all the time”

the two chelsea players share another confused look but don’t push it any further with the toddler, choosing to sit back and watch the show she’d chosen instead.

despite the colourful animation on the screen in front of her, sam’s mind was going a million miles a minute. she loved jessie dearly but she knew what you went through when you got pregnant with piper. the internal conflict that plagued your pregnancy had taken a toll on you, as did the fact that your ex wanted nothing to do with you or your sweet little girl, and sam didn’t want a repeat of that happening. hell would freeze over before she watched you get treated like that again.

it only took thirty minutes for piper to be sprawled out in sam’s lap, her little limbs poking sam’s body awkwardly. the striker brushed some hair out of her face before standing carefully, adjusting her grip so that piped was situated comfortably on her chest.

she walks down the hall to piper’s room and tucks her in before turning on her little fairy lights. she stands in the doorway for a minute to ensure that she hadn’t woken the child up before cracking the door and walking back out to the living room.

“did you know—”

“no” sam replies as she sits on the couch next to niamh “i had no clue”

the defender kisses her teeth “are you worried?”

sam pauses for a moment, scrubbing her hand over her face before releasing a sigh “no” she says, dropping her arm on the armrest “not for the reasons you might think, anyway”

niamh nods and fidgets with the remote, the animated teenage mutant ninja turtles show still playing in the background. “so… the issue isn’t jessie?”

“no, god no. well—” sam shakes her head “no” she says firmly before looking to niamh.

niamh smirks “so you won’t be mad at me if i call jessie right now?”

“to do what?” sam asks puzzled.

you and jessie walk with your arms linked, the both of you bundled up and huddled into eachother as you walk to her car. you shake your head and laugh as jessie tells you a story from her ucla days.

“you left her on the front lawn?” you laugh

jessie throws her head back “no!” she exclaims “she told me she was getting her own way back to our dorm so i left early. it was only when i woke up the next morning and she wasn’t there that i ran back to the frat house”

“teagan gets pretty wild” you muse “i can’t believe she got you to go to a frat party”

the canadian groans “more than once, and i ended up leaving early almost everytime”

“almost?”

jessie blushes wildly and looks away from you briefly, clearly recalling a memory she doesn’t want to think about “yes” she says quietly.

you duck your head slightly “jeeesssieee” you draw out teasingly, nudging your shoulders together.

she’s about to answer you when her phone buzzes in her pocket. she stops the two of you and pulls her phone out, frowning when she sees niamh’s name on her screen. the two of you look at eachother and shrug before she answers “hello?”

“jessie!” you hear niamh yell down the other line “how’s your night going? what are you up to?”

jessie’s eyebrows furrow in suspicion “it’s fine, not much going on. why? what are you doing?”

“sam and i are babysitting” she answers, allowing jessie to hear the smile in her voice.

the midfielder’s face drops ever so slightly and she looks at you intensely. you feel your stomach fall and you can’t help but grip jessie’s arm tighter.

“real cute kid, very polite” the defender trails off “how’s y/n?”

all the colour drains from jessie’s face and her eyes go wide. you can see the panic across her face and you wave your free hand about trying to get her to try to explain whatever niamh was telling her.

it’s like jessie’s brain has completely disconnected from her mouth “who’s y/n?”

you drop jessie’s arm and cover your face with both hands as she grimaces. the canadian bites one of her knuckles as niamh goes silent on the other end of the phone and she wonders if she can just hang up now.

“jessie” a thick australian accent says “put y/n on the phone please”

“okay” jessie says quietly before holding out the phone “it’s for you”

you purse your lips and take the phone off her “niamh”

“nope”

you screw your eyes shut “hey sammy, how’s piper?” you ask as cheerily as you can “did she get to bed okay?”

“fell asleep in my lap whilst watching ninja turtles” she answers “how’s your date going?”

“good” you answer whilst nodding “i’ll, uhm, be home soon”

“perfect!” she perks up “tell jessie to come up with you when she drops you off”

you look at jessie who’s biting her nails nervously and watching you like a hawk, looking for any sign that sam’s unhappy with the two of you. you suddenly feel like you’re back in highschool getting scolded by your mother for ending up drunk on your high school’s oval instead of sleeping at your friend’s house like you told her. you frown and pull jessie’s hand away from her mouth before holding it in your own.

“okay” you sigh deeply before hanging up and handing jessie’s phone back to her.

she pockets it and squeezes your hand “is it bad?” she asks nervously.

you squint “i’m not sure” you say huddling into her again “but it’s just sam, so, probably not”

#piper’s world #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming fluff #woso #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #woso fluff #jflemings writes #jflemings woso

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?

(🥒👌 to find later)

Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.

So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.

I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.

Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.

Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.

I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.

Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.

To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.

Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.

So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.

#aita #am i the asshole #unsanitary cw

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moonstruckme · 9 hours

Text

Thanks for being patient with me! This is edited on about four hours of sleep so apologies for any errors <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words

Water sizzles on the stove. You reach over to turn down the heat, your side heating from its proximity to the boiling water, before spinning back around to keep speed-chopping onion. This is a result of poor planning.

It’s possible that some of your nerves could be reinterpreted as excitement. Giddiness, even. You’re finally—finally—doing something to try and repay all the kindness James shows you. You’ve felt like such a mooch, eating his cooking and stealing his time with his friends, but last week had been too much for you to take. He’d discovered the stomach bug you were weathering, and James had completely devoted the next two days of his life to making sure you were looked after.

Your fever had gotten so out of hand he’d very nearly followed through on his favorite threat (going into your phone while you’re sleeping and phoning your mum), and though you’d done your best to downplay it at the time there are admittedly gaps in your memory wherein you think you were simply too out of it to know what was going on. It’s not a very comforting thought when you’re harboring a humiliating crush on your roommate; you may well have been just as talkative as James always is, you don’t know. At least he hasn’t said anything.

He had, thankfully, managed to avoid catching it. You’re not sure how he managed what no one on your shift at work did, but you assume it has something to do with all that kale he eats. Which is why you’re doing your best to make the thank-you meal you’re making him as healthy as might suit his standards.

You hear his key in the door, and a little frisson goes up your spine.

“You’re early,” you accuse as he walks in.

“Since when do you know when my training ends?” James asks. You sound like you’re sniping at one another, but as usual the joviality in his tone is unmissable.

The sounds of his entrance are familiar, perhaps more ingrained in your mind than they ought to be. Keys jingling as he hangs them on the hook, shoes toed off and left by the mat, heavy footsteps headed for wherever you are in the apartment.

When he finds you in the kitchen, you both speak at once.

“What happened to your shoulder?”

“You know how to cook?”

“Hurt it at training,” James answers, shrugging with the shoulder that doesn’t have an ice pack held to it. He’s probably too nice for it to occur to him to withhold his answer until you’ve given yours, as had been your first thought. “What are you making?”

“How did you hurt it?” Worry pries at your tone. Your hands have stilled on the cutting board.

“We had a scrimmage, and I got shoulder-barged.” He gives you a smile, a shadow of the real thing, but gentler. Reassuring. “It’s not bad.”

You frown. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Didn’t expect you to, love.”

“Why do you need to ice it if it’s not bad?”

There’s a look in James’ eyes that’s wavering between smugness and softness. You balk at the sight of it. “I need to be a bit careful with it,” he hedges, “but it’ll be good by morning. Now, you’ve distracted me. Do you mean to tell me you’ve known how to cook this entire time?”

“Yes,” you concede with a laugh. “I’ve always said I cook for myself when you’re not around.”

“And here you are, doing it right before my eyes.” James leans on the counter with his good arm. He looks immensely entertained. “I’m honored.”

“This isn’t just for me,” you say, looking down to resume chopping onion as your face warms slightly. “It’s for—” Another remonstrative hiss from the stove, and you whip around, moving the pot off the hot part entirely. You’re a bit relieved for the excuse to face away from him. “It’s for both of us. Also, I just want to provide a disclaimer right now that I never said I was good at cooking, only that I knew how.”

James’ laugh rumbles behind you, just as you knew it would. He’s too easy. You can practically feel the force of his smile hitting your back, like the sunshine brought inside.

“Here,” he says, taking a couple of steps toward you, “let me help.”

“No!” You whirl again, stopping him before he can actually enter the kitchen. “No way. James, I’m trying to do something nice.”

“And it is very nice,” he says, earnest. “It just seems like you could use a hand.”

“I’ve got it,” you insist. Your hands are up to ward him off, but you put them at your sides when you realize how close they’re hovering to his chest. “It doesn't count as doing something for you if you do it yourself. Anyway, you’re incapacitated.”

“I’m…” James looks confused, but then he glances down to his icing shoulder. “Oh, come on. I’m hardly immobilized.”

“For all intents and purposes, you are.” You do your best to infuse your voice with conviction. You’ve found that’s usually the way with James. If you show any hesitation, he’ll turn on the charm and have you eating out of his hand before you know what’s happened. You herd him away from the kitchen. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.”

You can’t help but be aware of him as you finish up, knowing he has to hear the sizzling when you accidentally spill things onto the stove or the one mumbled curse you’re not quick enough to bite back. All evidence that you’re not nearly as practiced a cook as James. You can practically feel his grin from a room over. Still, when it's done you’re fairly proud of yourself.

James is beaming as he accepts his bowl. He hikes his knees up so you can pass between the couch and the coffee table, making a show of sniffing the steam rising from the food.

“Is this risotto?” he asks, waiting for your little nod before his mouth drops open in astonishment. “You are so sneaky! I didn’t know you could cook at all, let alone fancy shit like this.”

“It’s not that hard to make.” You look down at your fork as you raise it to your lips, blowing.

“Sure it is! Loads of people have a hard time with it.”

“Do you?”

James grins, caught. You feel your own smile tugging at your lips as you take a bite.

He follows suit, forking a bit of the risotto and blowing to cool it before taking it in his mouth. His eyes dip closed, head lolling back, and he moans.

“Oh my god, this is good. I’m never cooking again, now that I know you can do this.”

You take another bite to avoid a response. You’re fairly sure the heat from your face could power the apartment for a month.

James makes a few more over-the-top compliments of your culinary skills, which you deflect as best you can. As always, you eat mostly silently while he chatters, but when you look over your attention gets snagged on his shoulder.

He’s only using the one hand to eat, bowl resting in his lap while you hold yours up closer to your face. His ice pack sits beside him now that he can’t hold it on anymore. You catch yourself gnawing on the inside of your lip.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

James looks over, following your gaze. “Yeah,” he admits. “Nothing I’m not used to, though.”

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “You get hurt often?”

He smiles bemusedly. “It’s rugby, love. Getting a bit roughed up is part of the deal.”

This doesn’t sit right with you. Though you hadn’t pondered it much before, you realize you’ve sort of been thinking of James, with his muscles and constant smiles and easygoing manner, as somewhat invincible. He seems like such a source of light in the world, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything bad could happen to him. You don’t like the idea of him being hurt. In any capacity.

You realize this is likely playing out on your face when you notice James watching you. His eyes are soft. “As much as I would love to milk this for attention and maybe a sponge bath,” he says, setting his fork in his bowl, “it’s really not that bad. See?”

He pulls down the sleeve of his shirt, and the effort to placate you is wasted. You take in a quiet, horrified gasp at the deeply colored bruise on James’ shoulder. One of your hands raises as if to touch it. It hovers in the space between you.

“That’s not that bad?” you look at James in alarm. “It looks broken.”

“It’s not,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward, as close to self-conscious as you’ve ever seen him. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple broken bones in my time. It’s only bruised, and the muscle’s a bit strained.”

The muscle, you’re noticing now, is quite substantial. Your focus is on the bruise, but the shoulder beneath it is eye-catching as well, hefty and taut-looking, presumably from the strain. That, or James is flexing.

You raise your gaze quickly to his. Brown eyes tinged with smugness.

“You’re worried about me.” His lips stretch into a grin. Not your favorite one in his arsenal. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too.”

You direct your attention back to your food, face hotter than hot. “I have justification for worry,” you say, the teasing tone you were going for undercut by the unintentional softness of your voice. “You’re voluntarily participating in a sport that seems like it’s trying to kill you.”

James takes a self-satisfied bite of his risotto. “I don’t know, I was pretty worried when you fainted in my arms last week.”

You side-eye him suspiciously. “I didn’t actually do that.”

“Guess you’ll never know.”

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carmenized-onions · 3 days

Text

Ad Interim. | No Service

logline; The days and doubts and desires; the air, underneath the shoe.

[!!!] series history, this is the ninth; the amount of links are getting nauseating just go to the landing LMAO.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. I listen to this playlist too much in my day to day now, fr.

portion; 3k+

possible allergies; you're almost ten chapters in, you know very well by now that these two are rife with anxiety and insecurity.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets she/her'd mb)

fun fact: i finished this one 19 hours after the last chapter, whoops, but let it sit in my drafts to give some breathing room and do some rework

It is t-minus three days, until the worst Friday of your life.

But today’s Tuesday, and though you feel a touch uneasy, you figure it’s probably just the breakfast from yesterday at La Mattina settling in your stomach— Or, at least, hope it is.

You’re at home, sitting on your couch, pensive, haggard, leaned over. Elbows to knees, prayer hands to face, staring at your phone on the coffee table in front of you.

Just send it. Just send the text. Don’t be a fucking wuss. You’ve re-written it in your notes app like five fucking times— He does not care this much, he doesn’t even have basic reading comprehension— Okay, that’s mean— But it’s just not that deep. Just fucking! Send it!

Actually no, no, upon sixth review, the paragraph you had written out was way too intense, way too presumptive. Backspace, backspace, backspace—Just say hi. Let’s just start with Hi.

‘Yooooooooo’

Are you fucking possessed? Good Lord. How is he already typing he never used to reply this fast, what the fuck—

‘Are u fucking haunted?’

‘Fuck is yooooooo’

‘Yooo to you too, cousin’

Faster texter now, but Richie is still the same guy, at the end of the day.

‘this is a loaded fucking question’

‘but do you think you’ll be free any time this week?’

‘not unless ur dead or dying’

‘are you dead or dying?’

‘not that I’ve heard’

‘but I was thinking maybe we could like, get food or smth’

‘chat one on one. Been a minute, yknow’

That was too much. You didn’t need to do all that. Now he’s gonna go well who’s fault is that? And it’s yours. You know it’s yours. And then you’re gonna have that fucking conversation— Which is what this whole meet up thing was supposed to be about in the first place—

‘heard’

‘can’t get time off but fak needs to have his training wheels ripped’

‘could have dinner at the bear this week? Like 2 hours. Then I can watch him and keep him from shitting the bed’

‘and still get to do a fucking one on one, you corporate speak ass’

‘I didn’t know how else to fucking say it alright!!!!!!’

‘Dinner @ bear sounds good to me’

‘but probably ask carm/syd first if it’s cool’

‘yea yea I’ll fuckin check in with daddy don’t worry’

‘that sucked for me. That sucked to read. Go to jail.’

‘already have.’

‘I’ll let u know a time when I know. See u chip’

You heart it. The classic signal that it’s the end of a conversation. Holy shit. You did it. You actually texted someone that you miss that you miss them— Not directly, but you know Rich knows. And specifically, to book a dinner, to talk about what happened, to apologize for it. That’s pretty fucking huge. Which means—

It’s time to eat a whole freezer cake and lay in your pyjamas all day and interact with not a single soul on this entire planet. You’re absolutely at your social limit, for the day. Maybe you’ll talk it through with Mikey, actually. To the air, more accurately, but, y’know, same thing.

You’re gonna get dinner with Richie. You’re gonna get dinner, with Richie, this Friday. And it’s not gonna be awkward or weird, at all.

It is t-minus two days, until the worst Friday of Carmen’s life, so far, at least. There’s always next year.

But today’s Wednesday, and though he feels a little nerve-wracked, he’s pretty sure it’s just because the kitchen was so fucking dysfunctional this morning, and now that their prep’s off, the tempo of the whole fucking day is off, and they're behind on two tables. And fucking seriously this time, can someone get him a fucking marker that fucking works.

Okay, maybe it’s a little more, than nerve wracked.

Sydney is ever the intuitive, and always correct, at the station next to him— Because yes, they’re still down a hire since the meth guy, so now Carmen is on line.

She can tell, that somethings wrong with him, something’s always wrong with him. “Take your ten, Chef.”

Carmen shakes his head, obviously, there’s still prep to catch up on. And if he doesn't do it, it's not gonna get done, and even if it does get done, it's not gonna get done right. He’s pressing the dead sharpie down on the tape, like if he just brute forces it, it’ll start to work. “M’good, Chef.”

“Carmen.” She turns to him fully, stopping her work. And so, he does too. “Take your fucking ten.” She deadpans, she’s not taking no for an answer. She rubs her fist over her heart.

Carmen takes a beat, before nodding, doing the same. “Heard, Chef.”

He needs to look over expense reports that he can’t quite comprehend, anyways.

He really needs his sister. He steps into his office. Despite the fact that they re-constructed just about everything in the restaurant, this musty office remains the same. Untouched. After caving down walls, they had to cut the budget somewhere. He’s glad though, that it's untouched. It might be crowded, poorly organized, have an off smell (probably because of the birth in here, just a few weeks back), but it’s exactly as his brother left it, and that helps him feel… Connected, somehow.

What the hell is Var vs Budget? He’s googling every other word, here. He’s more than grateful, that before going home on mat leave, Sug set up a good enough automated Excel sheet that he could just plug in numbers and it did all the calculating for him. Doesn’t mean he knows what any of the numbers mean, but, they’re there.

He knows that red equals bad. Natalie told him that very specifically. Which did seem like she was calling him fucking stupid, but he let it go. There’s a lot of red. That’s a lot of bad. Well, not a lot, but like, a third of this is red. That’s probably more than it should be. How many months do they have again? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He is never gonna get to pay himself, he’s never gonna be able to pay Syd, he's never gonna get her a star, she’s gonna live with her dad for the rest of her life, you are never gonna get to work here, you’re gonna work as a bottle girl for the rest of your life, he’s never gonna get his shit together so he’s never gonna get to call you his, he’s gonna have to hand the deed to Cicero and then fucking everyone is gonna to lose their jobs and he’s still gonna be him. He’s still gonna be him. Carmy Berzatto, the chef that lost everything, little brother to everyone's hero who blew his brains out. Starless in Chicago, unable to feel anything more than sorry for himself. Carmen’s gonna die as Carmen, and nothing more. At the end of the day.

Take a deep breath, Bear. Relax.

He’s catastrophizing. You told him that. He forgot to look into it. He googles that, instead of another business term he doesn’t understand.

‘Fixates on the worst possible outcome and treats it as likely, even when it is not.’

Well, it does seem pretty fucking likely that he’s doomed to fail and fall into a Sisyphean nightmare of opening restaurants and falling on his fucking face, dragging everyone he loves down with him with his stupid failed pipe dreams. He's no better than his brother.

He tries his best to think of whatever level-headed bullshit you'd give to him, right now, tries to taste the hot chocolate, the lavender and cardamom coffee. He smells your shampoo, in his hair, that helps.

Maybe, maybe it’s just been a bad week. Maybe there will be a lot of bad weeks, maybe there won’t be. Maybe things will be fine, maybe they won’t. You and Syd will still succeed, even if he fails. Everyone will, even if he fails. He has a very capable crew. And while he cannot escape the thought that failure is around the corner, at the very least, he is comforted by the idea that at least he will be the only one sinking with the ship he commands.

The thought of drowning alone is still impossible to rid of. Though.

But you’ve sent a text. And isn’t that a wonderful distraction?

Your connection results in response to his, from this morning, of course. You actually got it today. He swells with what feels like pride, and despite the fact that no one's looking at him, he has to hide his smile with his hand, embarrassed by how happy he is, when he sees the photo you’ve sent, just now. A selfie, sitting next to an oven, Other Tony’s oven. You’re holding a fried wire in your hand.

The text below it is a wonderful salve, ‘If you ever fuck up your ovens, I’ve got like, 10 thermocouples in my personal stock now :))’

So good to him, too good to him. Too good to anyone. ‘Heard.’

Carmen so, so fucking desperately wants to ask you to come to The Bear, right now. You’re only two blocks away, at La Mattina. You’d come, if he asked. He knows that. But he also knows that even if you calm him down, in the long run, it’ll set his day even further off tempo, he’ll be distracted the rest of his shift, and that’s the last thing he needs. He can handle this himself.

‘:)’ For levity. Or something. He’s trying. You give it a heart, so that means he’s done something good, he’s pretty sure.

There’s a knock at his door. Richie does not wait for an answer before coming in. His knocks are more like warnings, really. Carmen’s quick to tuck his phone away, he knows it’d be perfect cannon fodder to be teased into oblivion.

“Aye, cous—”

Carmen does not let the man get a word in inch wise, “Who’s on expo?”

Richie grimaces, this fucking song and dance, again. “Syd.”

“Who’s on her station, then?”

“T.”

“And hers?”

“She’s doin’ fuckin’ both Carmy— And—” Richie pulls a sharpie out of his breast pocket, throwing it at him. Carmen catches it. “Fuckin’ works. Alright?”

Marker works, and the system works. He catches the double meaning, too. Carmen nods, “Heard.”

“Christ.” Richie looks to high heaven, looks to his best friend, really, to give him strength. “Can I take my fuckin’ turn now?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ‘head.” Carmen turns to his desk, looking over the excel sheet, again. He can’t imagine Richie needing all of his undivided attention, right now, he’s not you.

Speaking of you, he can’t find your repair expenses anywhere on here. He needs to text Sug, about that. No, she’s got a fucking baby, he’ll at least look for a physical copy, first.

“I need to take two hours, on Friday.”

“Huh?” Carm’s head snaps up. Okay, maybe he does need to give his full attention to Richie, right now. “Eva got a fuckin’ recital, or somethin’?”

“No, no, uh— Chip wants to get dinner.” Rich scratches his nose with his thumb. “Thought since Fak's been training to host f'like, the whole fuckin’ month, could do dinner 'ere, let him do a run on us. Two birds, one bullet, y’know.”

“It’s stone.”

“I’m not fuckin’ high, cousin—” “No, it’s— Alright.” Carmen closes his eyes, hand over his face, deciding this is not the fight he wants to choose. “Tony’s getting dinner with you?”

“If I’m allowed, your fuckin’ Majesty.”

If it were up to Carmen? He wouldn’t be. But you specifically asked. Why, he has no idea. Carmen crosses his arms. “Yeah, yeah, s’fine. Just start at like, a not peak time. Like 4:30? Then when rush starts after 5 Fak’ll have a lil' momentum.”

“Heard. I’ll tell ‘em.” Richie nods, turning to make his way out.

Carm’s leg bounces, a tick that he’s pretty sure he’ll never get rid of. “… Ey Rich?”

He stops, turning back to Carmy, “Yeah, cousin?”

Carmen taps the end of the sharpie on the table, not looking at Richie, “What’s uh— Why d’you call Tony ‘Chip’?”

Ever so slightly, Richie’s brows furrow. “Did'j'ya ask her?”

Carm shakes his head, “S’why I’m asking you.”

Richie takes a beat, head rocking to the side, “Y'should ask her, she’ll tell you.”

Carmy squints, at that, “Is it fuckin’ dark or somethin’, cousin?”

What’s so secretive about Chip? He figured it would be some stupid inside joke with chocolate chips, like Sug with the salt mix up. Richie swallows, frowning just a bit. He clearly does not know how to answer this question, which just makes Carmen even more curious.

“S’ not dark, kinda, it’s just, y’know. Personal.” Since when the fuck did Richie have respect for personal? Probably since he sent him to stage. Goddammit.

“Did you not coin it?”

“Mikey did.”

Oh.

Huh.

Mikey got to do that first, too, eh?

“But, y’know, ask her, she likes you well enough to tell you, I think.” Richie shrugs, palms out. “Kinda tells stories like that better than me, anyways.” That's high praise— Not in the sense that Richie's a great storyteller, but that he's willing to admit it, for you.

“Oh, she doesn’t bury the fuckin’ lead?”

“Oh, fuck you.” But it’s true, so Richie’s amused. There’s something nice, about being known. Even if it’s to tease.

There’s a lull of silence. Quite frankly, Carmen’s hoping that Richie’s general disdain of silence will force him to confess your nickname backstory, just to fill the void. It doesn’t. Instead, it just gears him up, in the worst way, able to read the look on Carmen’s face.

“You really wanna fuckin know, huh?” Richie tilts down his head, teasing. Carmen groans. Oh dear god, why him. “Oh, fuck, you fuckin’ like her, don’t’chu, cousin? You fuckin’ dog.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rich—”

“Aye, Chip’s a real catch, I gettit— Works hard, plays nice, cleans up good— Y’have my blessing.”

“Didn’t ask for it.”

“Aye,” Richie snaps his fingers, pointing at Carmen like he could smite him. “Don’t gimme no talk back, she was my boy first, a’right? One bad word from me, n’ your lil’ fantasy—” He gestures an explosion with his hand, making a ‘pop’ sound with his lips.

“Gone, cousin.”

Carmen leans back in his seat, playing with the sharpie in his hand. He’s essentially Kubrick staring down Richie, but the guy is unaffected. “Friday, 4:30, two hours. If Fak fucks up, you’re on deck.”

“Heard.”

“Jeff, can I please get an all day, baby?” Baby is Tina’s new HR approved version of ‘for the love of fucking god’ She’s definitely at her limit, meaning Syd’s definitely at her limit on expo. Richie starts to step out, walking backwards.

“You comin’ cousin?”

Carm scratches his nose, straightening up back to his desk. He wishes he could go back to the kitchen, where he knows he’s good, instead of in here, with some goddamn spreadsheets that he cannot comprehend beyond bad. “Uh, one sec, I just need to finish this fuckin’—” He shakes his hand in the air, “Whatever the fuck this is.”

Richie nods, tapping the doorway on his way out. “Heard… g’luck.”

Carmen does not look at the spreadsheets. No. He thinks. He doesn't think about business.

That wasn’t true, was it? A phone call from Richie wouldn’t be the end of him, end of you, would it? Carmen is on the losing playing field here, practically everyone here has more history with you than he does. If he had a… lapse in behaviour, and it got back to you, would that ruin him? God, even his work family ruins things for him. Or could. Which means they will. Catastrophizing.

Whatever. What the fuck ever. He needs to find your invoice. After some flipping through last month’s file, he finds a sticky note from Sug between loose pages.

‘reminder: ask carmy 4 tony invoice’

He squints. You said Nat took care of it. Maybe it’s an old sticky note, he’ll text her about it, it’ll be a solid forty hours before he’ll get a response, anyways. Mom stuff. He really needs to go visit his niece again, soon. Maybe this weekend. Take Richie’s car. But then he'll probably will be forced to take Richie, too. Maybe he should just ask you, instead. Let Nat thank you for the heating pad she’s been loving, properly. Have dinner, all together, in an actual family home, instead of just each other's apartments. That'd be nice.

Yeah. Yeah. He’ll ask you on Friday, when you come for dinner. He grabs a pad of paper, biting the cap off his sharpie. He’ll make you something off menu, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, anyways, he’ll have time to play, on Friday.

He’s gonna do right by you, this Friday.

Tomorrow, you’ll be getting dinner with Richie, and it’ll be the worst Friday of your life.

But right now, it’s Thursday night, and you’ve finally finished Carmen’s piece for The Bear. You know you told him if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to put it up, but admittedly, if he doesn’t like it, you will be crushed.

One big white canvas.

Nine perfect squares, perfectly equidistant from each other at all angles.

Each square a snippet, a photo transfer. The squares themselves are messy, sun damaged, bleach stained, light flared. All twinged blue and yellowish. But so perfectly cut and curated.

Each image, something new. Starting at the top left, it’s The Original Beef. Then, the inside. Then the booths.

Then the second row, the sandwiches, held in hands.

The center photo. You've taken almost all of these photos on a disposable from yesteryear, but this is the one you like the most.

Mikey. The only transfer completely unbleached, unaltered, unruined. He’s holding two cut outs. One, Food & Wine and the other, a small section in the off off off pages of the New York Times.

Both specifically the one’s that mentioned Carmen, winning Best Chef and the James Beard.

Mikey was so proud. So so proud, silently, just with you— Couldn't look soft. Carmen does not know this photo exists. No one does. You hope this piece will act as the catalyst for you to be able to talk about the elephant in the room you’ve yet to open for him.

Right next to Mikey, is a balloon on a pipe— A photo you grabbed from Sydney and printed. You can only imagine the stress you could’ve eased, during their fire safety test. C’est la vie. Fak got to prove himself.

And on the last row, the new, ritzy, booths. The Seven Fishes dish— Also a photo you stole from Sydney. And finally, The Bear’s sign. Taken at night, lit up in all its neon glory.

Though the images are disconnected, starting from Mikey in the center— Clean, the flaring and staining grows more intense at the pictures in the corner. Just bordering on illegible. It all feels interconnected, woven.

It’s Carmen. Or, at least, you think it is. That’s what you were trying to achieve. You took inspiration from the way his brain works, the way he cooks messy but produces orderly, the way he’s grown something out of what was barely more than nothing. The way love and grief is at the center of everything. He’s awfully inspiring.

You’re excited, to show this to him tomorrow, on Friday. Hopefully all goes well, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, you’ll probably have a little time to talk, on Friday. You won’t be able to get into everything, no, you’ve promised most of your bandwidth to Richie, but you’ll make a good start, on Friday.

You’re gonna do right, by Carmen, on Friday.

Tomorrow.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

i've still got 2k of beats to cover for the next chapter, and have 7.9k already written out, for it. This is going to be fun. lmao. I'm genuinely very very excited for you to see it, when it comes out. Cannot believe I thought like 4 chapters ago that'd this next chapter would be the one to be released next. I almost briefed over all of these past few chapters to be nothing more than snippets in a chapter, I would never forgive myself if i went through with that plan, fr.

Anyways, no time for the future, this is NOW!! I hope I described Tony's paintin' good. I think it'd be nice. MBMBAM reference in the intro, are you fucking HAUNTED? ARE YOU FUCKING POSESSED? Love griffy, had to. Carmen CANNOT stop having anxiety attacks, someone get him on prozac frfr.

Tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my hat, I'm gonna need some words to chew on while I write, anyways. Hitting a wall choreographing this back half of chapter ten my GOD. Also oh yeah, silly aesthetic thing. I dunno if anyone noticed or cared, but i do a different ombre banner when it's carmen's perspec-- Did it last chapter too, aint that cute?

Also, I must finally give in, I was lazy to do taglists, but have folded, so here u are mfs. If you'd like to be added, you gotta leave me an essay somewhere. It's the RULES! Well, leave an essay and also ask to be added to the taglist that is but IT'S THE RULES!!

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101

fully added people that never asked to be on here, you're just like, top fans, so i thought it would be nice, but if you WANT TO BE TAKEN OFF LET ME KNOW I'LL DO IT IMMEDIATELY ALSO IF I'M FORGETTING ANYONE WHO ASKED PLEASE DO REMIND ME

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen x oc #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear #fanfic series

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jarofstyles · 11 hours

Text

Leather & Lace 3

Hi loves! This is the last official part of leather and lace but I’m open to doing some one shots and blurbs for them if you want (send requests for what you’d want to see)

Leather & Lace Masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access to pieces and 170+ exclusive writings

WC- 6.3k

Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, soft dom H, slight degradation, praise kink, impact play, light choking, etc all the good stuff.

Y/N padded out of his bedroom with his shirt hanging down on her form. Standing in his kitchen, he placed the glass down with a clink, watching her as she came closer. Glasses on her nose, makeup freshly off, hair tossed on top of her head, and something in her hand. “There she is.” He smiled, leaning against the corner of his countertops. “Took a minute didn’t you? Cinnamon rolls are almost done”. The stock he kept in his fridge for her favorite treat was put to use tonight.

“Amazing.” She beamed, coming up to him. “Sit on the stool, please. I brought a makeup wipe so I can get your eyeliner off, cause I know you’re gonna whine that you’re tired later and then you’ll whine when you get a stye.” Y/N had been through this before a million times.

“Always thinking ahead, aren’t you Butterfly?” He laughed, tapping her nose with his fingertip and not bothering to argue. It was true. He would definitely do that, and it wouldn’t be the first or last time he did. “Alright. Be gentle with me please, m’delicate”.

Closing his eyes, he felt her warm fingers angle his face where she wanted before the cool wipe made contact with his skin.

“So delicate with your bruised and split knuckles, hm? What did the poor punching bag do to you this week? Does he owe you money?” One of his favorite things about Y/N since day one had been her banter. They could go back and forth and she was quick to respond. It was playful, always, but she did tend to get more out of him when she approached it this way. She was asking why he’d been upset this week and been hitting the bag so aggressively and without gloves.

Considering they had just made it official 2 hours ago, she was the best girlfriend ever. She wouldn’t push if he didn’t want to say it and he knew the girl would just nod and move on if he said he didn’t want to talk about it, but he found himself wanting to spill every single thought that crossed his mind to her. Y/N just didn’t have a clue.

“Mm. My father called me.” He said softly into the cinnamon scented air. The sweetness made the bitter notes of his words a bit easier to tolerate. “Just same old shit, y’know? Nothing I do is gonna be good enough. Even though I’m successful in my own right, he’s always got to add those digs in.” The tumultuous relationship between Harry and his father had always been a sore spot. They weren’t enemies and he didn’t hate him, no, but their relationship had been rocky since Harry had gone to uni and not followed in his footsteps. He tried to be supportive in his own way but it was obvious that he disapproved.

Even though he was a grown man and he had plenty of other people proud of him, it always stung. “Sucks sometimes, that I want his approval. It’s the tiniest bit in me, a speck, but I can always feel it when I talk to him. It’s been a few years since the whole blowout and it’s gotten better but I just have to get over it, I guess. I don’t think he ever will.” Even though his sister had done what he wanted Harry to do, it wasn’t the same in his eyes.

“I can only imagine.” There was a delicate pause as she got underneath his waterline. “But it’s okay to be upset about it, you know?” She always tried to tread lightly while also being truthful. It was a sensitive subject and the girl knew it. “He’s your dad. It’s going to bother you because we’re literally wired to want our parents' acceptance. It’s human nature.” Gentle swiping over his eyes got the pencil liner off, but she was thorough with it. Besides, she had a feeling he’d prefer his eyes closed for this sort of talk. “I’m sorry that it’s like that for you, H. I know my words won’t replace his but I’m extremely proud of you and all you’ve done. Hopefully he’ll come around and see all that the rest of us do but… if he doesn’t? That’s a him problem.”

Harry didn’t know how she managed to always say the right things. The knot in his throat shrunk from the comfort she gave him, her tender handling of both his physical being and his heart. This was the reason he wanted more with her. Almost anyone could get him to nut off, but not a single other person made his heart feel like this. Just as she’d said earlier, he felt completely safe with her in a way he didn’t even know he needed. Before her, he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable he was around people, but she showed him a brand new point of view.

In the past, he’d opened himself up slightly to one girl. One girl who had used him and fucked his best mate, who he caught in the act. It had walled up the rest of his emotions in iron, not wanting even a crack to get into him because why would he? He’d never thought she or he would do that to him, never had any suspicion until about a month before when he saw glances across the room- but it turned out it wasn’t just his birthday outing they’d been planning.

Then this girl had come along with her warmth and rusted the iron, getting it worn and cracked until there was a Y/N shaped hole for her to fill. She was understanding of his somewhat snarky nature, never took it personally and had stuck by him even when he’d tried to push her away.

There had only been one time when he had been somewhat successful and it made his stomach twist and chest ache when he thought about it. It was far earlier on In their friendship, a few weeks in actually. She’d caught him on a bad day, coming up to him outside with her chatterbox open and running asking if he wanted to go to the cafe with him and that she had a surprise- and he’d snapped at her. He’d been rougher with his words than he meant to, honest, but he wanted to be alone and said as much in a not as nice manner. He’d watched her shoulders drop and the sparkle quite literally leave her eye as she looked towards the ground with a nod as even then when he least deserved it, she tried to be understanding.

Something in him cracked when he heard the slight quiver in her voice when she apologized for being annoying and he’d looked up to see tears in those eyes and… fuck. His stomach dropped to his feet, watching her bottom lip quiver as she reached into her bag and grabbed the candy bar she’d grabbed from the vending machine after her class had ended, handing it to him before she scurried off. It was clear she hadn’t been tearing up for attention from how quickly she had left him, and with a candy bar in hand he felt completely nauseous over how he’d treated her.

He couldn’t shake the feeling even as he gathered his things and called out for her, throat thick as his bad day got worse only by his own accord. Her lack of presence was felt, coldness settling in his bones when he realized what he’d truly done. It was then that he vowed to never treat her like that again. Y/N had been the sweetest thing in the world to him, got him his fucking favorite candy and was excited to study with him and he’d gone and fucked it all up. Made her fucking cry. She’d been long gone by the time he stumbled back into the pathway but he was already trying to make it right.

In the end he had showed up at her door with a teddy bear in hand along with her favorite candy and some take away, feeling like a kicked puppy as she opened her door and he had seen her swollen eyes and lips. It had been the most heartbreaking thing he ever saw and he apologize profusely when she let him in even when he didn’t deserve it, hugging her on his own accord for the first time and running fingers through her hair as she insisted she forgave him. ‘Everyone has those days and I’m sensitive, I know.’ Is what she said.

Some days even still he thought about that as he watched people take advantage of her and it made him even more motivated to take care of her.

In these sort of moments it felt hard not to think about loving her. Even in his rough and tumble sort of persona, she treated him tenderly. Held his arm, brushed his hair back, fixed his tangled necklaces, Y/N had treated him with a delicacy that he didn’t know he needed.

As soon as the makeup wipe was pulled away, he opened his eyes and cupped her cheek to pull her in for a kiss. It had already been hard to keep his lips to himself, but this situation… it was his new obsession. “You know you’re perfect, right?” He asked against his current addiction, pressing another kiss to them. “Just… I dunno how you always know how to say the right shit. It scares me sometimes, y’know? Sometimes it feels too good to be true, that you… that you’re some sorta dream, but you’re not. And now you’ve told me you’re mine, and M’really fucking nervous about fucking it up but I’m going to do everything I can to be the best for you. Alright?”

The emotion had slipped off his tongue without his permission but for one of the first times in his life he didn’t regret it. Her lips curled against his in that breathtaking smile he adored, tossing the wipe to the side as she wrapped an arm around his neck. “Harry… I don’t expect perfection. I know relationships… they take time to build. You aren’t some sort of build-a-boyfriend to me. I like you because you’re you. I like the grumpy, sarcastic, scowly bits of you. I always have. You’ll fuck up, I’ll fuck up, it’ll be a whole thing and then guess what?” Pulling back, she took in his face with her soft gaze. “We’ll fix it up again and it’ll be stronger. As long as you don’t cheat on me? I’m yours. And we both know you really aren’t capable of that.”

Harry would rather saw his hand off than cheat. He’d seen what it had done to him, so putting anyone else through that would be disgusting on top of hating the concept to begin with. He’d cut off people he knew for cheating on their partners and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. “M’glad you know.” He sighed. In a weird way, this talk was making him aroused. Hearing how she liked him, that she knew they’d work, it just… it did something to him. “You look perfect in my clothes.” That too. Yeah, that had something to do with the thickening happening in his pants.

“I like wearing them. I always have. I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a while, you know.” She teased, leaning into his body and letting her tits press up against him as she kissed his jaw lightly. “It always made me feel like yours when you let me wear them.”

“You’ve been mine.” The dark grumble of his voice was a telltale sign that the words had pleased him. “Regardless of title, you’ve been mine for a while.” It was true and the both of them knew it. Harry’s eyes had been blind to anything but her for a long time and it had been painfully obvious when he hadn’t been able to get it up for other people not too long after meeting her. Or had to think about her in order to nut off.

“I know.” The confirmation was warm as she felt his hand travel down to rest above her ass. “And I was hoping you’d been mine for a bit but I’m pretty sure I was. You like to talk when you’re getting head, huh?” The smile was teasing and maybe he should be flushed at that but it was just another layer of arousal for him to remember her on her knees with his cock tucked between puffy lips and drool down her pretty chin.

“No, actually. Jus’ with you.” He said truthfully. “I was… more of a hit it and quit it with the other people if m’honest. Know I babbled a bit but it felt really fucking good.” They could both feel he was hard now and the awkwardness of the last encounter on his end was gone. “Never expected you to be filthy, though. Thought you’d be a bit more shy but… I like that you were gagging for it just as much as I was.” Over the fabric of his shirt he gripped her ass, a nice handful as he squeezed and watched her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you properly. I’ve been dying to taste you,’to feel you. But I need t’know what you like.”

“A bit of leather and lace.” Was the answer. Long lashed eyes peered up at him as she tipped her head back to look at him. “Sweet and spice. Nice and mean. Be sweet to me and call me a slut again. Spank me and kiss it better. That’s what… it’s what I’ve always imagined with you.” Her words were slightly more hesitant now but she didn’t back down. “You can be a little rough with me as long as you baby me later. I’ve never been…” she paused for a moment as she bit her lip. “I’ve never been fucked right. People treat me like I’m some delicate little toy which, I can be and I like sometimes but… I’ve always known you’d be able to give me the deep one I want. The type to make me lose my breath. Right?” Her fingers curled around his wrist that still rested on her cheek and trailed it down to have his hand rest against her throat. “You can throw me around a bit and make me take it. I can still be a doll for you, but maybe one you use a little bit.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Harry’s mouth was torn between being dryer than the desert and watering down his chin at her descriptors of what she wanted. His hands held her ass and her throat and she was handing herself over on a silver platter as his cock twitched in between them, eager to get to work on her. “Fuck me…” he whispered hoarsely, thumbing over the side of her neck before giving a tiny squeeze. Just a bit, watching her face as he did so. She melted almost immediately and it was then he got the confirmation that she'd been hand crafted for him. Eyes glazed over and a weak, precious whine escaping her mouth and vibrating against the hand covering her throat, he couldn’t hold himself back from kissing her hard. Gathering her as close as possible with his hand keeping its grip for half the kiss before releasing it and using it as a guide to keep her close. “You’re going to ruin me, and M’gonna love every fucking second of it.”

—-

It had happened quite quickly. The buzz of the oven interrupted them, the only reason Harry even slightly entertained it was so he didn’t burn the place down. He had been quick to toss them on the counter and lost the oven not before picking her up and bringing her into his bedroom.

“If I died right now, I’d be okay.” He whispered as he looked at her bare cunt. The panties had been discarded and his lips kissed her inner thighs, nosing over the sensitive skin and watching her react to him. “You’re so gorgeous. Smell so fucking good, Butterfly. Gonna have t’tear me away from this pussy.” It was not a joke.

Kissing over the mound, he spread her open and gave a long lick over the expanse of her slight and yeah- yeah. He was addicted. Licking deeper into her, he felt himself melt into a frenzied version of himself as he let his tongue explore her. Fingers buried in his hair as she gripped him, stomach jumping as she panted at the feeling of his mouth on her.

Harry had enjoyed giving head before, was no stranger to eating pussy, but this was different. There had never been this all encompassing need to make her cum over and over again on his tongue, that greed that settled in his gut as he heard her moan his name and spread her legs further for him. Welcoming him and his touch.

He didn’t hold back. Y/N had told him what she wanted and he knew her well enough now to understand.

“Sweet.” He mumbled against her. “So fuckin’ sweet. Course you are, Butterfly. Fuckin’ perfect, every inch.” Kissing her clit he felt her jump, chuckling as he did it again before licking over the sensitive pearl. “M’gonna make you cum on my tongue, and then M’gonna give you the fuck you needed. I’ll be so nice to you, baby. So sweet, get you nice and fucked out the way you need. Promise.”

Harry was going to fulfill that promise. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he gave soft, pulsing suckles as he slipped a finger inside of her and felt her hips buck off the bed.

It was only a introduction, a sneak peek of what he’d feel around his cock but he had to remind himself not to blow too early as he felt her clenched around his digit. Tight and hot and silky against his hand, he groaned against her cunt and nuzzled deeper into it as he settled in.

“H-Harry… oh my god.” She sighed out, slowly grinding against his face. “Oh my god, you… you’re so good at this. I’ve never….” Never came from this, which was something that pissed him off when he put the pieces together but he knew he’d wear the title of the first one to be successful proudly. Ideally, no one else would ever have it again. He had no plans on giving this obsession up.

He hummed against her, meeting her eyes as she looked down at him with her messy hair and her bitten lips, mouth opened in the cutest little ‘o’ shape and her brows furrowed. Her clit was throbbing against his tongue and he couldn’t get enough, sucking a bit harder as he added a second finger inside of her.

“Oh fuck, oh- just like that. Your fingers are big.” She whimpered, making him chuckle against her. Of course they were compared to her own. He had imagined that exact thing in this bed, imagining her in her own room with her fingers stuffed inside her drippy cunt and his name peeling off hers lips as she made herself orgasm.

Making himself pull back, he fucked his fingers into her and enjoyed every bit of the noise it made. He’d made her wet like this, he’d gotten her to be a sopping mess and he enjoyed every single second of feeling it on his fingertips. “I know, baby. But my cock is much bigger and I need to get you prepped for it. You’re plenty wet…” he purred, leaning over her and keeping her eyes as he pursed his lips and spit right over her clit. “Just need to make you cum and you’ll be nice n’ready for me.”

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation as he went back in, spreading his spit with his tongue before returning to his motions. He could feel it in her actions, how she clenched around his fingers, pulling her clit into his mouth over and over again as she got more and more wet around his fingers with difficulty not bucking into him.

“I want it, I need it. I’ve been thinking a-about it for so long. I need you to fuck me, H.” Her voice was different than he’d ever heard it. More whiny, a tinge of desperation to the sweet sound he was obsessed with, and every bit of hot as he knew it would be.

“I will, baby. Promise. Jus’ let go for me. I can feel you’re close.” He coaxed, curling his fingers just so and watching as her head fell back against the duvet as his lips continued the pull of her clit.

It was hotter than he could’ve imagined. When she came a few minutes later, he watched her hand grip his hair and the other her own breast as she let out the prettiest noises and whines of his name as she trembled, hips bucking again into his mouth as she tumbled over the edge.

He held her steady with a happy noise, pulling off her clit with one last soft suckle and a kiss but kept his fingers inside of her as he moved back up her body to kiss her mouth. She welcomed it, both hands grabbing his face and not minding the mess she made on his chin and nose from his healthy exploration of her. Mumbled of praised were echoed between their kisses, slow pumps of his fingers working her through the orgasm as she rocked her hips into his hand.

“Harry, I need it.” Her eyes met his. “I’m clean, I just- I need it, I need you inside me now.” Her neediness wasn’t something he’d been privy to before and it was more than satisfying, but he had to admit that what made him feel even better was knowing she wanted to go bare. He’d

Gotten tested just a few weeks ago at his appointment which was a bit of serendipity, he supposed, because now he was going to get what he had been stroking off to the most.

“Yeah? Y’sure?” He whispered, watching her nod as he slowly pulled his fingers from her cunt and quickly cupped over it, soothing her. “You’re a dream. Y’know that, baby?” A laugh of disbelief echoed from his chest as he slowly pulled his hand back and slipped his pants off. His shirt had been tossed in the midst of things and he wanted hers off too, even if the idea of fucking her in his tee shirt was appealing. Later.

She was receptive to it, letting him tug it off and exposing her to him again.

He had to take a moment to simply enjoy her.

Harry had always appreciated how beautiful she was but he also had to take a second to be thankful that she let him see her at her most vulnerable. That he got to see her in the most delicate state, one he was going to be the only one to see. Spread thighs and bare tits and soft tummy, all his. His, his, his.

“M’so happy you’re mine.” He whispered, running a hand over her stomach as his other fisted his cock. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Not jus’ your body but your whole being. And I hope you know how much it means t’me that you’re letting me be yours too.” It hit him then, watching her peer up at him. He was being entrusted with a damn near golden heart and there were no plans on doing anything but cherishing it.

“H…” she whispered, motioning him to come to her. He did, as he always will, buttoning their lips together as he nudged his tip through her wet slit and felt her sigh, wrapping her legs around his hips. “You are perfect. I adore you and- and I’m happy you’re letting me be yours too. You make me feel so good in all the ways possible and I just want to be as close as I can get.”

There was no room left for debate.

He began to push into her, watching her face as he filled her. It was slow at first, letting himself pace themselves considering he knew very early on that this would have to be a multiple round night because there was no way he’d be satisfied with just one. Y/N had been the object of his affections for a long while now and finally getting to be with her in the way he’d craved had lit him up.

“There we are…” he whispered as he was fully inside of her. “You feel so good on me, Butterfly.” A kiss pressed to her lips, slow rocking into her for the beginning of this. The man fully intended to give her what she wanted but the first few moments would be tender and soft, show a true appreciation of her. The soft yellow light of his lamp next to his bed lit up the side of her face, shadows across the other side. Her hand held his bicep and the other on the back of his neck as she let out a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed kisses all over her face.

It was a high, feeling her heat on him. She was everywhere, capturing every bit of him yet again. Tugging him deeper into a trap he had no plans on escaping from. The slow rocking of their hips garnered a hitch in her breath, still sensitive from her orgasm moments ago but taking in every moment she could. Every second felt special and precious.

“You don’t even know….” He breathed. “Don’t even know how much I think about this. Made me feel like a perv for a bit, seeing you in my shirt last week… then you crawled into my lap and you ruined me.” It was hard to keep it from spilling out. “I couldn’t run anymore from how you m-make me feel. And then y’put your mouth on me, near begged to, made me feel fucking crazy. I’ve been waiting all week to get my hands on you again… but this is the best day.” The fact that she was officially his and she was holding on to him, letting out a sweet sigh as he began to pull out the slightest bit and pushed back in.

“I thought about it too.” She admitted, though it felt hard to talk. “I wanted this and-and I wanted you and m’so happy right now.” Her eyes watered a bit and fuck, fuck, fuck. He cooed, shaking his head as he kissed her again. His sweet girl, crying because she had wanted him just as much as he had wanted her.

“M’yours, Butterfly. All yours, and… M’not gonna let you go. Promise. You can have me as many times, as many days, as you want.” The man doubted that she’d ever truly understand how much this meant to him, how much she meant to him. That she’d look past his shitty attitude and stuck by him long enough to see the real parts, the softer ones. Hell, she made him want a relationship when he had never thought he’d want one again.

Harry was unequivocally hers, body and heart.

It stayed slow for a while, deep kisses and soft moans, but he could feel her start to get restless. He was very aware of part of his appeal to her- the rough and tumble. So when he felt her start to squirm, he took her throat again and held her back down, keeping his slow pumps as he watched her eyes hood and a soft mewl fall from her lips as she clenched around his cock. “Impatient girl. You’re tryin’ to rush me, hm?” He whispered, squeezing the sides of her throat momentarily. “I told you I’d fuck you right. But I wanted to appreciate you, make you feel how much I adore you. Is that not enough for my girl?”

Y/N shook her head, panting as her legs tightened around his waist. “M’sorry. I’m not trying to rush you, promise. I just feel so good n’I want more.”

“Of course she does. Pretty little doll wants some more.” He crooned, clicking his tongue. “Being stuffed to the brim and stretching that tiny cunt isn’t enough for you. You told me about this, warned me. Told me you liked a bit of both.” Pulling out a bit more, he slid back in with a bit of force that caught her breath. “So you’re tired of being my sweet girl… you want to be a whore?”

There was something about the delicacy in the way he said it, the way it was silky and smooth and so unlike how the word would usually be delivered that had her moaning out loud. He was so, so nice to her and she loved it but it was clear she needed some more. Thankfully she had come to the right place.

“Okay, okay. You want t’be a cute little slut. I see how it is, my darling.” He grinned, containing the slightly rougher pace. “Jus’ let me look at this gorgeous face a bit longer, and then I’ll flip you on your hands and knees so you can bury your face into the bed while I make you cum.”

Harry had a hard time controlling himself knowing that she wanted to be roughed up. His angelic Y/N, wanted to be pounded out into the mattress. The original thought was that he’d have to work her up to that and see if she liked it, maybe a spank or two, but here she was. Gushing on her cock from the mere mention of being fucked harder.

“Do you want me to spank that pretty ass?” He questioned, listening to the squelch of her cunt with each pass inside of her. His personal heaven. “Make it hot? How much do you want, Butterfly?”

“I want anything.” She promised. “Please spank me and- and choke. I want to feel it tomorrow.” It was apparent now that she really did crave it, bucking into his thrusts and getting wetter the harder he got. He was going to have such a good time learning her body. How it ticked, what got her off, what made her squirm. It was a whole new facet to their relationship that he was giddy to explore.

“I’ll give you anything you want, my gorgeous girl.” He promised. “Make the prettiest fuck doll out of you.”

Harry kept his promise.

Y/N squealed as he pulled out, flipping her over and hissed at his hands spreading each side of her ass open. “Look at you… you piece of art.” He sighed. “M’gonna mark this canvas up. Never imagined bruising you before but… what my girl wants, she gets.”

The first spank was a quick one, making her yelp as he stuffed himself back into her needy hole. It was exposing her, letting him have access to her cunt and ass and it was obviously exhilarating from how she clenched before pushing back into him for more. “You liked it.” The man smirked, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands. “We’re going to get on perfectly in the bedroom, aren’t we Butterfly?”

From there, Harry let loose. Keeping a hand on her hip and the other holding her ass, giving swats to the skin as he fucked into her deep and thorough. He watched in awe as her ass rippled every time it met his thighs, the sound of skin slapping and her whimpers filling his bedroom. Her cunt was hot and so fucking wet he was surprised he hadn’t slipped out yet, creamy and soft but keeping him in tight.

He’s heard Y/N babble before, but all she could come up with was whimpers and whines of his name, more, and again when he smacked the round of her ass. It was unexpected, but he was eating up every single movement, every noise she squeaked out. It felt incredible to know he was the one doing it. He had been the one to make her lose that soft shell and got deep into the underbelly, literally and metaphorically, burying deep inside of her with each tuck. “That’s my girl, taking it so well. I adore you, y’know that?” He cooed. “Love this hot cunt. Think M’gonna stay inside of it for a while, what do you think?” There was no answer but a punched out breath from his cock. “Mmm… I think so too. You did say you wanted t’be my whore.” The tone was slightly condescending but it was evident quickly that she reacted well to that.

For all the time he’d been thinking about this, reality was much sweeter. With her taste on his tongue and her arousal smeared all over his cock and forming a creamy ring around the base of his cock with each squelching fuck into her needy and willing hole, he couldn’t have imagined something better. Something so unfiltered and raw, going bare inside his candy sweet girl who had overtaken his life.

What really set her off, though, was his fingers tucking under her and finger her slippery and swollen clit, rubbing over it firmly, she moaned loud and clear, panting into the air as she clumsily grabbed his wrist as if to keep it there. Like he’d pull it away. “I see it baby, I feel it. You jus’ needed that clit played with. You’re gonna cum for me.” He breathed in an amazed chuckle. “Gonna cum all over my cock so I can fill you to the brim and keep you full and warm.”

Y/N didn’t need much more than that. His cock in her tummy and his fingers at her clit, ass burning slightly from his swats. He felt it the moment it began, the fluttering around his prick and her hitch of breath as she got his name falling from her mouth and the slight tense of her body before she fell apart on him.

The prettiest sight he’d ever seen in his life. It was then that he swore he’d do his best to see it as many times as he possibly could, which would be a blessing or a curse depending on what the girl underneath him thought of overstimulation.

Which was why even as he growled out, spilling into the perfect cunt that milked him, he kept thrusting. Slow and sloppy now, feeling his load dripping from her and onto the bed, he continued with his fingers on her clit as she squirmed. His cock fucked the cum right into her, massaging it into her walls as he kissed her skin. “‘Nother one. Gimme another one, my baby. Show me how much y’love being my sweet little whore.”

The sensitivity was probably to blame with how fast the second one came, shaking slightly as she let out the weakest whine of his name before pushing his hand away. Even though he could’ve done it over and over, he hummed and listened to her cue, turning them onto their sides and kept himself snug inside of her. He’d clean her up in a bit, bring her to the shower, make sure she was fed her cinnamon rolls, but for a little bit he wanted to bask in the bliss of having a dream come true.

“S’okay, Butterfly. I’ve got you.” He nudged his nose against her neck, placing another chaste kiss there as she folded their fingers together. “Now you can fly home to me.”

—-

It was far too late for cinnamon rolls if a normal person had any say, but thankfully they didn’t. Y/N sat on the counter with her hair placed back into that messy updo and his shirt on her torso while he had been convinced to wear his boxers while in the kitchen, dipping the microwave reheated cinnamon rolls in the icing.

“I’ve got to teach you how to make them from scratch.” His girl sighed, kicking her feet as they dangled off the counter.

“What, is my store bought hot food enough for you?” He pouted in faux offense, but luckily she didn’t fall for it.

“You know that’s not the case. I love that you buy me some to have when I’m here.” A sugary kiss was given to his bottom lip, but she pulled away too fast to deepen it. A shame if you asked him. “It’s just, y’know, it would be fun to do together. There’s plenty of time to… hang out while the dough rises, and stuff like that.”

Harry’s brows shot up at the insinuation, the unexpected laugh barking through the kitchen as he lowers his half ripped cinnamon roll to the plate. “I’ve created a little monster, haven’t I?” The shit eating from on his face showed no sign of regret, though. “One fuck and I’ve corrupted you. Sweet little thing turned into a needy pup in heat.” He paused before pointing a finger smeared with cinnamon sugar on it in her face. “Or have I just uncovered something that was in front of my face this whole time? Innocent act?”

Y/N answered by leaning forward to take his finger into her mouth, sucking on it slowly and flicking her tongue over the tip before pulling back on it.

There was no doubt now he’d found his perfect match, even if it was his complete opposite. Maybe they weren’t as different as he thought.

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #leather and lace #harry styles au #harry styles fluff

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archangeldyke-all · 2 days

Note

CLUBMOMCLUBMOMCLUBMOMCLUBMOMMMMMM-

*ahem*

I apologize for outburst- allow me to demonstrate my idea in a civil manner.

CLUBMOMMY GIVING SEVIKA A HARD TIME BY NOT FUCKING HER FOR A WEEK AND SEVIKA LITERALLY BEGGING ND SHIT TILL CLUB MOM THINKS SHE"S HAD ENOUGH AND FUCKS HER A CLOSET NEXT TO THE STRIPPER BATHROOM ND SEVIKA TRYING TO STAY QUIT BUT THERE GOES CLUB MOM MAKING HER DO A SQUIRTING ORGASM W HER DICK FOR LIKR THE THRID TIME SO SHE"S JUST CRYING AND BEGGINF FOR MORE LIKE SHE DOESN'T WORK THE NEXT DAY ND NEEDS TO USE HER VOICE FOR MEETINGS AND-

*ahem*

Very eleoquent, I know. My love for you and the public knows no bounds.

Besitossss [kisses]!!! ilyyyy!!!

💐💐💐💐

*cracks my knuckles* alright lets do it

men and minors dni

you and sevika got in your first big fight a week ago.

you've been dating for two years, living together for a year and a half, but until this week, your disagreements have remained small.

sure, you spat and bicker all the time-- but that's mostly just because you and sevika 'give major old married couple vibes'-- at least, according to crystal.

but this fight was different.

sevika had a horrible night at work, and all she wanted to do was pick you up from the club, take you home, and have you wrap around her like a koala while you scratched her scalp and gently hummed her to sleep.

you, on the other hand, had had an excellent fucking night. the club was jam-packed with a bachelor party from piltover-- and the girls scammed those rich suckers dry.

so after close, when you and the girls were counting money and getting ready to head home, cherry popped a celebratory bottle of champagne. which resulted in another bottle-- which resulted in you shaking your ass on the stage for a dozen of cheering laughing strippers-- all throwing money at you and chanting, "go mom! go mom! get it mom! go mom!"

it's not like you were naked, or dancing alone. all the girls were dancing beside you, and the club was empty besides you, them, and jimmy, and you were all high off a night of great earnings and a little tipsy on champagne.

but when sevika stumbled through the back doors, exhausted, beaten up, likely concussed and stone cold sober, she didn't see any of those details.

what she did see was you shaking your ass for cherry where she sat in a recliner on the floor.

it got really ugly, really fast.

a screaming match in the alley became a screaming match at home which became you packing a bag and leaving.

and now it's been a week of you sleeping on cherry's couch.

you miss sevika so fucking much.

she misses you too.

when you'd left, you'd tiredly, shakily asked sevika to give you time.

she did. for twelve hours.

but the following night as you clocked in for work, you were shocked to see your girlfriend sitting in the back of the club, sipping on a whiskey.

"i told you i needed time, sev." you huffed as you trudged over to the booth she was tucked in.

"i'm not here for you." she lied. you raised an eyebrow at her.

"buying a dance?" you asked. she huffed and rolled her eyes.

"fuck off, you know i'm not. obviously, i'm here for you-- i couldn't fucking sleep last night... i know you want time. you can have it. i won't bug you, but... please don't make me leave." she whispered this last part, her voice a little wobbly. "i just... miss you. wanna see you. i won't talk to you, i promise."

you'd sucked in a shaky breath, tried to keep your tears from falling, and nodded quickly before turning around and fleeing to the locker room.

and now, it's been a week of sleeping on a lumpy couch and listening to cherry hook up with jimmy through her thin-ass walls; a week of sevika's big puppy eyes watching your every move while you're out on the floor, of her having the girls bring you drinks and food, of her stuffing flowers and apology notes into the slats of your locker; and you're done fighting with her.

you miss her so much it hurts. you love her so much it hurts.

so tonight, you've got a plan: you're gonna make her grovel a little more, and then you're gonna go home with her.

you've got your duffel bag packed and waiting in your locker and everything.

sevika seems to have caught on to the fact that she's out of the doghouse. she's been grinning at you all night, waving you over like she's a customer who needs help, only to try to make chit chat with you and flirt for a while. she's adorable.

right now, she's watching you make your rounds around the club, her gaze burning on your back.

"did you 'n sev get in another fight?" trinity asks from behind the bar. you blink at her in confusion.

"no, why?" you ask.

she nods to where sevika's sitting across the bar behind you. "she's lookin' at you like she's plottin' to kill you." she says. you bite your lip and try to keep back your nervous giggle.

"y-yeah, that's... that's her horny face." you admit. trinity bursts into laughter, throwing her head back as she cackles. you groan, reaching across the bar to pull the bottle of tequila out of her grasp, and quickly pouring yourself your own shot before handing the bottle back to her. "are you good over here?" you ask, already backing away from the bar to avoid your friend's teases.

trintiy's still too busy laughing to answer verbally, so she shoots you a thumbs up and waves you away.

you finish your go around the club pretty quick.

frosty has you help her find the tip of the broken nail she'd chipped off-- using your flashlight to scour the floors of the dark club until you found the glittery nail, then gluing it back on for her.

you help a shaky old man figure out the cash-machine, withdrawing a stack of ones for him then helping him to a seat, waving star down to dance for him-- she likes the older gentlemen.

and then, after putting band-aids on the blisters on the back of shelly's feet, making sure mandy takes her medicine break, and spraying body glitter on buttercup's back for her; you finally get to turn around and catch sevika's gaze.

she grins when you approach her booth.

"hey, mama."

you shiver. 'mama' is her own personal take on the nickname your girls have for you, and it makes you weak in the knees hearing it now after a week. "scoot over." you mumble, trying to ignore her knowing smirk.

sevika slides into her booth, letting you sit beside her, passing you her drink so you can have a sip of her whiskey.

"you seem awfully happy tonight." you say.

sevika shrugs. "i've got a good feeling." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, and she giggles. "think i might get lucky tonight; might take a pretty girl home with me."

you snort, elbowing her but not denying her accusation.

sevika's smile grows cocky, and her arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into her strong chest. she presses a long, firm kiss to your scalp, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, before she sighs and pulls away, blinking her eyes back open. "i've fuckin' missed you." she whispers.

you sigh, melting against her. for a while, you guys just sit together, letting the loud thumping of the club music take over the conversation.

you finish sevika's whiskey. she doesn't seem to mind, her lips are occupied by peppering kisses on your head. eventually, you speak again. "cherry's couch is fucking horrible."

sevika snorts. "i'll give you a massage when we get home." she mutters. you giggle.

"you seem pretty certain that you'll be takin' me home tonight." you tease. sevika's eyes widen a bit in worry and she stiffens beside you.

"but... i am, right?" she asks, her voice insecure. your stomach bursts into butterflies. you were not expecting that reaction.

you were expecting her to say something suave and hot, to turn the tables and tease you, or to just straight up kiss you. you weren't expecting the needy, whiny tone of her voice.

it's rare, but sevika gets like this sometimes. you're not surprised it's happening now after a week apart, you just didn't expect it. but now that it's happening, and sevika's looking at you with those big, begging eyes, you're thrilled.

you give your plan for the night a quick mental edit: you'll make her grovel a lot, and then you'll take her home.

"depends." you answer, smiling at your girlfriend and reaching up to cup her cheek. she nuzzles into your touch.

"on what?" she asks. you grin, kiss the tip of her nose, and then whisper in her ear.

"how pretty you beg."

you don't wait for her reaction. you just kiss her cheek and then slip out of the booth, sauntering back to the locker room. you can feel her shocked gaze on your retreating figure, so you swing your hips a bit, making your ass sway a little more than usual. just before you reach the locker room, you can make out an emphatic "fuck" above the music coming from sevika's booth. you burst into laughter.

sevika wastes no time taking you up on your challenge.

two minutes after you push through the doors, sevika comes tumbling through, her eyes wide and her smile soft as she trails over to your little desk in the corner.

"baby..." she starts. you snort, and sevika sits her ass on your desk, looking down at you where you're in your chair. you prop your legs up into her lap, and her hands immediately grab your ankles to start rubbing circles in the skin. "please lemme take you home." she whispers.

the locker room is empty right now, all the girls are out on the floor. so, you decide to be evil. "what?" you ask. "didn't hear you, baby."

sevika grunts, and rolls her eyes. "please let me take you home tonight, honey." she asks at a normal volume. you smile, reaching out for her hand and pulling it forward to press a kiss to her knuckles.

"i'll think about it." you tease. sevika groans, kicking her feet a bit. you have to bite back your smile.

"babe!" she cries. "i-i-i missed you so much." she pouts. "i missed your fuckin' laugh and the crumbs you're always leavin' in bed and your morning breath and... and i missed your tits babe, fuck!" she whines.

you pull your feet out of her lap and stand up. her slouch against your desk means you're towering over her, now, and you smile down at her as you cup her face in both of your hands. "i missed you too, sev." you whisper. the smidgen of worry in her look of general desperation disappears at your words, and you relax a bit, knowing that now she's just horny and not worried you're still mad.

she puckers her lips, expecting a kiss. you snort, then lean forward a give her a quick, chaste peck.

it's not enough. it's nowhere near enough, and now that you've kissed her again after a week, your desperation for her is becoming incredibly apparent in your underwear. but still, you pull away. because you want to see how far you can take this.

"tell me more." you whisper against her lips.

sevika makes a little noise of protest when you pull away from her face. "i, uh..." she tries, blinking rapidly to get her brain working. "i missed the way you're always nagging me. turns out you're right, about most of it. i tripped over one of the socks i left on the floor in the middle of the night and nearly broke my neck-- i couldn't decide if you'd laugh or cry when you found out i died that way." she whispers.

you laugh then kiss her again as a reward for her words. "i'd cry. and then laugh. and then cry forever. tell me more." you demand. sevika smiles, catching onto your game quickly. her hands reach out and hold your hips, and you allow it... for now.

"missed your ass." she says simply. you snort, and kiss her again, licking against her bottom lip this time. her eyes are hazy when you pull away.

"tell me mo--"

"missed your smile." she whispers. "fuck, 'specially the one you give me when i wake you up in the mornings. 'n that annoyed one-- where you're trying not to laugh but you really want to." she giggles a bit. your heart melts, and you kiss her again. "i missed your lips." you kiss her. "i missed your hands." you kiss her. "fuck, baby, i missed your pussy." she whines. you grin. bingo.

sevika cracks one of her closed eyes open when she's not immediately rewarded with a kiss for her confession. she pouts at you, but you talk before she can complain.

"oh, sev." you whisper. "i missed your pussy."

sevika nearly slides off the desk at your words. if it weren't for you standing between her legs, she'd be on her ass on the floor after her knees locked. you laugh as you steady her on your desk, then swoop forward to capture her lips in a hot kiss, threading your fingers in her hair.

sevika's clawing at your belt loops and shirt, trying to drag you impossibly closer to her body. you chuckle against her lips, working one of your hands between your bodies to start fiddling at her pants button.

"lemme touch you?" you ask. sevika's already gasping for air like she's run a marathon, her eyes big and glossy and needy as she nods. you grin, and shove your hand down the front of her boxers.

she's soaking fucking wet, and she immediately leans forward to hide her face against your shoulder while you gasp at your discovery. "sev." you whine. she grunts.

"shut up."

"my needy girl." you continue. she whimpers, then turns to bite your throat.

you don't even mean to start fucking her-- she's just so wet that two of your digits slip right into her, with no resistance. you both gasp. "fuck! please!" sevika cries. you laugh.

"keep it down, baby, the girls could come in here any minute."

"please don't stop, please, fuck mama, i missed you so fuckin' much--"

you shut her up by pressing your lips against hers, swallowing her words as you nip her lip.

when you pull away from her to suck in a breath of air, you push her mouth to your neck to keep her quiet.

still-- even with her whimpers and whines muffled, her cunt's so wet and loud anybody'd know what you two are doing if they came through the door.

"shit, honey, do you hear yourself? you're so fucking cute, missed me so much, this is all for me, isn't it?" you ask. she mumbles something incoherent against your neck, her hips humping your hand, her head nodding. you laugh. "fuck, i missed you, too sweetheart." you whimper. she growls against your throat and you giggle. "cum for me, love."

sevika cums with choked whine, soaking your hand as she falls apart.

you pull her away from your throat to kiss her through her orgasm, slowing down the rhythm of your fingers until you're still. sevika's still twitching and whining when you pull away.

"you okay?" you ask, pulling your hand out of her pants and licking up her cum.

sevika grunts, then falls forward, her forehead against your tits. "so fuckin' good." she says. you laugh.

"god, baby. i wish i had my strapon, i'd fuck you over my desk."

sevika's head snaps up from your chest, a non-orgasmic blush creeping up her cheeks. you raise an eyebrow at her.

"uh..." she mutters.

"uh?" you ask.

"just... fuck. c'mon." she grunts as she shoves herself off the desk and past you, her legs shaky as she walks. you laugh as you follow behind her, wrapping your arm around her waist to keep her steady as she guides you to the supply-closet in the back of the locker room.

the room's barely big enough to fit the both of you, but you shove in after your girlfriend to see what she's rummaging around for.

she turns around with a shy smile, avoiding your gaze.

"sev?" you ask.

she sighs, then shoves something she was hiding behind her back in your hands. you look down at the jumble of fabric straps and metallic buckles, and burst into laughter. "what's this?!" you ask.

"the emergency strap." sevika says, shrugging. you hinge forward at your waist as laughter overtakes you, reaching out to steady yourself on your girlfriend's arm.

"wh-- the what?!" you squeal. she groans, rolling her eyes but smiling a bit at your laughter.

"it's exactly what it sounds like! i keep 'em stashed in various places in case of emergency, like right now."

"how many emergency straps do you have sev?" you ask.

sevika shrugs. "half a dozen stashed around zaun. one in piltover, behind that bakery you like so much." she says. "it started with just one here and at the last drop, but then you jumped me in the alley behind your salon and i was completely unprepared, so i decided to stash one near all our go-to spots."

you can't stop laughing, you can't believe the woman in front of you is yours. "i'm so fucking in love with you it's insane." you manage to laugh out.

sevika's embarrassed expression melts, and she pulls you in for a crushing hug. you wrap your arms around her, the dildo and harness dangling from your hands and brushing her shoulders as you laugh in her arms. "i love you too." she mumbles. "i don't wanna fight with you ever again. not like that. i'm so sorry."

"'s okay baby. you were pissy, i was drunk, neither of us were in the place to settle a disagreement. i'm sorry i left. that was shitty."

"don't apologize." she whispers. you chuckle, then pull away from her shoulder to catch her eye.

"okay. but only if you don't apologize either." you ask. sevika smirks.

"alright, deal." she says. then, she reaches behind you and pulls the door to the supply closet shut. "now put that thing on." she demands.

you burst into laughter, but start navigating the loops of the harness regardless.

five minutes later, and you're balls deep inside your girlfriend as she fucks you.

sure, you're wearing the strap, but sevika's got you pinned to the door, working her hips and ass on your cock as she groans into her folded arms resting on the shelf of cleaning supplies in front of her.

"holy fucking shit, sevika." you huff. she whimpers, and you smack her ass. "baby--"

"more!" she chokes out. you growl, smacking her ass again and widening your stance as you try to keep up with the pace she's set. "fuck, fuck, more, i need more, please, mama, please gimmie m--"

you sink both of your hands into her hips, use all your body weight to crush her against the shelf in front of her, her back arching gorgeously, and you give her ass one more nice smack before you start hammering into her.

disinfectant bottles and sponges start falling off the shelves, which are hammering into the back wall. your hips are smacking violently against her ass, and she's doing nothing to muffle her cries anymore.

"yes! yes, yes, yes, baby, fuck!" she cries. "shit, i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum on your fuckin' cock, mama, fuck i missed you, i love you so much, don't stop, don't stop, please don't--"

"i'm right here, baby. not goin' anywhere."

sevika falls apart at your words. you hitch an arm around her waist to keep her upright as her knees wobble, and when she starts to squirt all over your cock, thighs, and the floor beneath her, you cum.

"shit, sev!" you cry. she's still cumming, gasping and getting out choked half-laughs of pleasure as you fuck her through your orgasm. with each snap of your hips, a little gush of cum leaks down sevika's legs. by the time your hips still, sevika's shaking and shuddering like she's being electrocuted. you laugh as you watch her twitch, little drops of cum 'plink plink plink'ing to the ground from her cunt. "you alright, baby?"

"mmmuhng..." she mumbles.

you chuckle and kiss her back. "'m gonna pull out." sevika winces and squeaks when you pull out, one final stream of squirt trickling down her legs as you do. you just grin, then turn her around to face you. she's grinning, her eyes closed in post-coital bliss, and you kiss her cheek gently. "open your eyes, baby." you whisper, reaching up and cupping her face.

sevika blinks her hazy eyes open, smiling at you. "hey." she grins.

"hi, love." you laugh. "how're you feeling?"

"babe..." she grunts, glaring at you a bit and flopping her arm out to gesture at the general soaked state of the closet around you. "jus' flooded your supply closet with cum. i'm amazing." she giggles.

you snort, and then swoop in to kiss her on the mouth.

it's surprisingly easy to clean the mess you made-- since you made it in the cleaning supply closet. the mops take care of sevika's puddles, a few paper towels dry hers and your thighs. she shows you where she stashes the emergency strap, in a tile in the ceiling, and you snort and make a mental note to disinfect it tomorrow.

you get dressed, straighten up sevika's hair as she does the same for you, and then you both stumble out of the supply closet, giggling.

cherry's standing in the locker room, an unimpressed look on her face. sevika groans in embarrassment, hiding her face against your shoulder, and you just laugh at your friend's face.

"hey cherr-bear." you great. she rolls her eyes.

"you two are disgusting. you traumatized poor shelly."

"you gave jimmy a blowjob during your smoke break just yesterday!" you squawk.

sevika perks up behind you at the new gossip. "you're hooking up with jimmy?" she giggles.

cherry snorts and rolls her eyes fondly at sevika.

"it's completely different if me and the girls hook up here. you are our mom. and you're, like, our cool new step-dad or something!" cherry shouts, waving her arms at you and sevika. "nobody wants to hear their parents hooking up!"

"thanks for taking care of her while i was being a shithead." sevika says, ignoring cherry's rant. she deflates, a sweet smile on her lips as she considers you and your girlfriend.

"just don't do it again. i had to stop, like, four girls from tryna murder you for hurtin' mom." cherry says.

you blink.

"wait, what?" you and sevika ask simultaneously. cherry just shrugs.

"'m just glad you made up. any longer, and trinity was really gonna call up her big brother." she says. sevika bursts into laughter behind you, and you smile, equally touched and disturbed by your girls' protective behavior. "you two go home. y'all clearly got a lotta catchin' up to do. i'll watch the girls the rest of the night, mom, and i'll keep your earnings for you until tomorrow." you raise a suspicious eyebrow at your best friend, and she laughs. "okay, i'll give you eighty percent of your earnings. i gotta take a little off the top-- rent for the past week of you crashing on my couch."

sevika's already in your locker, gathering your stuff and tugging you toward the back door. "thanks cherry!" she calls over her shoulder.

you let yourself be dragged out, blowing cherry a goodbye kiss.

in the alley, sevika shoves you against the brick wall for a sloppy kiss.

when she pulls away, her eyes are gentle and sweet. "lemme take you home?" she asks.

you smile. "lead the way, babe."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

#this is like the third or fourth fic i've written where reader and sev hook up in a cleaning supply closet lmaooooo #sevika #soft sevika #sevika x you #sevika smut #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika imagine

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ninyard · 2 days

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Very very eye-opening to realize that Andrew and Kevin weren’t attached at the hip for Andrew’s sake because Andrew was possessive and controlling, but for Kevin’s sake because it was what he needed

See you can’t send me stuff like this and not expect me to go insane about it

I always think about their first meeting - the scouting, when Andrew went to Edgar Allan and played for them and turned down their contract. Why does Kevin trust him so much? Why does Andrew insist on keeping him safe?

Then I think about the night/day they first met again after that - as I always do. Kevin, hand mangled and unrecognisable, and Andrew sits at his bedside as Wymack and Abby plead for him to be nice. Maybe the first thing Andrew asks him is if Riko did it, and Kevin can’t hide it. He doesn’t have the energy to keep up the act.

I think about Kevin, then, desperate and scared, begging Andrew to stay by his side, crying out for his help. He’d never been outside of the nest for this long. He didn’t know anybody else, but he knew he trusted him. Kevin with tears on his puffy and tired face saying I need you to stay with me because I can’t survive without him. Do you think Andrew heard the Stockholm syndrome in his voice? Did he check Kevin’s body for scars inflicted on him by the king? Did he agree because he saw an abused child begging for help, or because he had no other choice?

Look at Jean - he was in the nest for five years. Kevin was there practically his whole life. I think Andrew had to spend most of his time with Kevin just teaching him how to survive. How to live outside of the nest. Andrew sees the panic in his eyes every time he leaves him alone for longer than a minute. He sees what the lasting consequences of the nest are - and he takes him in. He teaches him how to be a human. He lets his teammates think it’s because he’s chosen Kevin as his new toy, he lets them think his defensiveness is possessiveness. Andrew doesn’t correct them when they assume the wrong things about his relationship with Kevin.

Oh sure, Kevin gave Andrew “purpose” and something to live for. But Andrew gave him a lifeline. He extended a hand because he was certain Kevin wouldn’t survive without it. He gave him everything he asked for - a partner, someone to keep him safe, someone to make sure he was never alone. Andrew adjusts everything because of Kevin. He has to train him back into normal hours of practice, into normal eating habits and sleeping habits. He has to bit by bit, piece by piece, put together the story of Kevin Day so he can make sure he survives losing everything. Every tiny bit of structure. Every reason to live for torn out from under his feet. Maybe Andrew sees parts of himself in Kevin’s hopelessness. Maybe he’s just determined to make sure he gets through this.

Kevin has always needed Andrew more than Andrew has needed him. Since the very beginning.

#idk

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luvlyhyunjin · 3 days

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blues - hwang hyunjin

words: 900 | pairing: hyunjin x reader | genre: angst(mentions of depression), pining, friends in love ig??

Hyunjin has been losing ever since he could remember, he had made peace with every facet of despair. Sorrows linger on his pillow when he goes to sleep and stares right back at him in the mirror in the mornings. It’s in the bags forming under his eyes, dragging with his wasted hours wide awake and in the pages of his journal. Filled with his angry outbursts and lines of utter melancholy.

Hyunjin is doused in blues until you’re here.

“What?” he spits, voice laced with faux indifference that doesn’t even alter the twinkle in your eyes.

“I got you groceries! Let’s cook together.” Your cheerful tone is the complete opposite to how he feels inside and when you don’t even wait for an answer and invite yourself in, he rolls his eyes.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at you yet his heart pulses against his ribs, reminding him of how you stole his heart as you walk past him with a bounce in your step. As if you didn’t just tumble into his cave of misery. As he follows your trail, almost like he’s helplessly tied to you his thoughts wander. Falling into questions upon questions of how his soul betrayed him first. Mingled with yours without his permission.

Somewhere between his overbearing thoughts and you emptying the bags of groceries in his cramped disarranged kitchen, you had stepped impossibly closer to him. Arms brushing against his and Hyunjin wears his insouciance like a necklace. Pretends you’re not the reason his heart almost beats its way out of his chest. It’s such a merciless act, one that only you are capable of.

He’s known you for months now, long enough to notice how you always hum under your breath whenever your hands are busy with something, just like right now.

Long enough to notice how your eyes crinkle before your lips turns upwards into a smile. Long enough to know you only smile like that at him. Long enough to know even now, when he looks like he’s in a boundless battle with a familiar dark monster that lives inside him clad with depression; you still manage to look at him like he’s the brightest star within the universe.

“You broke your promise,” he’s known you long enough to understand the despondency coating your words.

He conjectures about when his existence has dwindled into nothing but waiting for you and then pushing you out the door, only to linger by at it with an aching heart pleading for a flicker of your smile.

"i'm bad at keeping promises" he answers honestly, and then he waits, appareled with indestructible ambition for this to be your last straw, for you to finally get angry at him and leave.

He's attempting to push you out his system again, a failing task he takes a hit at each time he sees you.

“it’s okay.” You say, with a smile that blends in with longing in your eyes.

“it’s not okay.”

“If it’s you it’s okay.” Hyunjin grows quiet at that, and his hand itches on the counter, to reach for you in deprivation of you. but then you move past him to start working on dinner and his hand curls on itself, withering away in inherent weakness.

And so Hyunjin starts digging his grave with knuckles bloodied by your heartbreak, it is a familiar territory, he digs in anger, hatred for himself and for his overflowing feelings for you. he hopes to bury himself right next to his broken promise of seeing you more.

"Have you ever been in love?" you ask, hours later when you’re both on the couch and a movie he can’t focus on plays on his small and old tv. Too occupied with thinking about the space between you two.

“yeah,”

"What was it like for you?” you tilt your head towards him, curiosity lighting up your eyes and when he catches them with his, he feels himself melting into a sugary dream, treacherous enough to have him kneel into addiction.

It coaxes forth his illusions of making you happy someday.

"Awful. Felt like I was drowning underwater and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't breathe."

Sympathy colors your face and he wants to look away from it, to run.

"I wonder if it will feel different with me." your softness cuts through the air and yet it sits heavy on his chest, it has him wishing he could block his ears with his hands "I wonder if you were in love with me would you feel like taking your first breath after drowning?" your words fall with enough vulnerability to have his chest tightening.

His hearts weeps, dripping with desirous of you. it begs him to give up this stoic act of his, but Hyunjin knows he will forever remain unworthy for even a particle of you. you have stolen his heart the moment he saw you, ensnaring him with the sound of your laughter and your endless chatter. There’s an aching void in his being that nothing can fill but the endearment in your eyes and there’s tenderness in your soul that Hyunjin’s cold hands will surely destroy.

His monster will eat you alive, he’s a peril you must avoid, so he sacrifices himself instead.

“Sorry, that was weird.” You chuckle, looking away and his silence stays, becoming one with the noise from the tv.

Every time you walk out his door, Hyunjin prays you won’t come back and every time you come back, Hyunjin yearning grows. He’s doused in blues and then longing for you. You manage to mesh with his blood and it's unjust.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin angst #skz angst

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queensunshinee · 2 days

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Time Of Our Lives || Part 11

Part 11:

Liana could easily say she would pay thousands of dollars to fly home on another day. But obviously she didn't have thousands of spare dollars, and the ones who bought her the plane tickets were her parents, along with Art's parents. Of course, seating them side by side the entire way from Stanford home.

Most of the semester she managed to avoid him. From time to time she would feel a scrutinizing gaze on her and knew it was Art, but every time she looked up to tell him to go fuck himself, their eyes didn't meet.

Now she has to spend several hours on the plane next to him, with both of them remembering the last time they flew together and she fell asleep on his shoulder. Both know she doesn’t plan on sleeping a single moment on this flight. There’s no way that in a moment of weakness, she will touch Art Donaldson by choice ever again.

Liana's leg shook uncontrollably, causing Art to sigh. He wanted to pull out one of her earbuds and tell her she could relax and that he wouldn’t bite her (no matter how much he wanted to). At this stage, he already thought it was ridiculous. Months have passed, and she acted as if he didn’t exist when they both knew that if they just talked about it, this horrible period would be behind them.

"I bought the snack you like with the jam." He couldn’t resist and pulled out one of her earbuds. His hand brushed her cheek for a second. If he were a stronger man, he wouldn’t have done it. But even if Art Donaldson is strong in most areas of life, he is very weak when it comes to Liana Levy.

"Can I have it back, please?" She asked with a coldness that never characterized her. Even before Stanford, when they were younger, and she tried to make him think she didn’t want any connection to him, she wasn’t cold. She would roll her eyes, go into tantrums, and distance herself as much as she could. She was never indifferent to him. He feared this indifference like a sheep fears a lion.

He put the earbud in her hand and left his hand on hers. She let him for a moment, and he closed his eyes, relishing the touch that lasted exactly three seconds until she recovered and moved away from him as much as she could. As if he might infect her with an incurable disease.

She took the snack he bought for her. Because if there’s one thing to say about Liana, it's that she can't give up her manners, and even when she’s furious with him to the core, she will do this small act to please him. It made his heart ache and kept him silent for the rest of the flight.

Again, like in a déjà vu feeling, her father was waiting for them, and they got into the car. "Liana, even if Mom acts coldly, it's not because she's angry. Okay?" Her father suddenly said, and Liana blushed. Art examined her as she shrank into her seat. "Can we talk about this at home?" She asked quietly, embarrassed by the direction of the conversation. "No, because Mom is at home, and Art is practically family. Right, kiddo?" Her father smiled at him through the mirror. God, how he loved her father and the small window he opened for him into her life. "Anyway, she almost completely fine with everything, and she even wanted to call a few days ago to ask how you were doing." Her father continued. Art didn’t know something had happened between Liana and her mother. "How long has it been like this?" He suddenly asked, his voice much more confident when her father was in the car because he knew Liana wouldn’t complicate the situation. Especially if she’s already in some kind of fight with her mother. "Since the day we talked about London, probably. The day Li flew back to Stanford." If her father could, he would give Art her entire life story at any given moment. He really loved Art as if he were the son he never had.

Art started connecting the dots; That’s the reason she came to him as soon as she landed that day. That’s the reason she seemed so shaken, and that’s the reason he thought she had been crying. She and her mother fought that day. A fight big enough not to speak again for months. And instead of supporting her and insisting on knowing what happened, Art made that day even worse. The thought that Patrick was going to erase him from her life sharpened at that moment. He knows Patrick would’ve read the situation better. He knows Patrick wouldn’t have acted the way he did that night. Art knows Patrick is selfish in every aspect of his life, except for Liana. While Art happens to be the most selfish when it comes to Liana.

Despite Art’s grandmother ruining all her birthdays throughout her life, Liana loved her as if she were her own grandmother. That’s how she found herself in a car with Art Donaldson, on the way to her nursing home. Because she couldn’t leave the country without seeing her, and Art... well, he heard about it from his parents and said he would drive her because he also wanted to see his grandmother. And once again, only Liana knew that Art was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

"Are we really not going to talk the whole drive?" Art asked. He was dressed nicer than usual and smiling more than usual. On another day, Liana would have found his smile charming, but the last two weeks at home had been filled with silent fights between her and her mother, who probably wouldn’t forgive her in her lifetime. Right now, Liana wanted to wipe the smug smile off Art's face with a slap. But she wasn’t a violent person, so she simply turned up the radio and looked out the window. "Are you planning anything for your birthday?" Art asked, turning the radio back down to its original volume.

"Tell me, is this a mental illness? Are you bipolar or something?" she retorted, only causing his dimple to become more pronounced. "These are really concerning mood swings, I recommend you check it out and really shut up for the rest of this trip that I don’t even know why you joined. You can visit your grandma literally any other day and not with me like a psychopath." She mumbled the last part, causing Art to chuckle.

"Is it amusing to you, Arthur?" she asked, genuinely unable to read the person in front of her. A person whom just a few months ago her instincts betrayed her and made her think she knew all about him.

"It amuses me that you're trying so hard to hate me, Li, instead of taking a moment and talking to me." He said with feigned calmness. Art knew he was getting close to the point where Liana wouldn’t be able to resist and would just spill everything that was on her mind. He knew that from the moment it happened, it would be easier for him to deal with her. He knew that from the moment she started showing him she was angry at him and not ignoring him as if he didn’t exist, he would be able to turn things back.

Maybe not to Christmas when she was completely his, but before, when she looked at him and really saw him. When she cared for him because he was sick. When she came to some of his practices. When she was an inseparable part of his day. If she'll leave when she was at that point again, maybe Patrick won’t be able to take over what remained of her feelings for him. Maybe he'd have a chance to be in her life.

"You’re delusional." She muttered, turning up the radio again. "You look beautiful today. All this to impress my grandmother? You know she already loves you." He turned it down again, still amused. Liana sighed and rolled her eyes. This was going to be a very long drive.

"Jessica, you look amazing!" Liana said and hugged Art’s grandmother. His heart filled in a way he didn’t know it could. How did he never notice? How did he not notice how much attention Liana paid to such an important figure in his life? And so for a few hours, they sat and played cards and Scrabble with his grandmother and her two friends, and they listened to gossip about the seniors at the nursing home. Liana was so good. So attentive. So present.

"Lia," his grandmother started when the three of them were left alone, "at your wedding, I won't be there, but say a few words about me so that Art’s grandfather hears from his grave and gets jealous." She tossed it out casually. As if everything in this scenario was self-evident; It was clear to her they would get married, it was clear to her she wouldn't be there, and it was clear to her that her deceased husband would hear.

Art chuckled quietly, watching Liana and seeing how red she was. Even her ears had changed color.

"Don’t worry, Grandma. We’ll talk about you the whole event." If he had been less smug about everything, he would have shut up. But he couldn’t stop himself. He had to see if he could make her blush even more. If there was another button he could press to make her release what she had against him, so eventually he could get back into her life.

"When Art gets married, Jessica, you’ll be there and hold his hand. And at my wedding, you’ll be the guest of honor." Liana said, trying to steady her voice. Art chuckled. The shameless bastard just chuckled. The look Liana shot at him would have killed any sane person. But Art didn’t consider himself very sane at that moment, and certainly not someone who feared an angry look from Liana Levy.

"She’s dismissing you, Arthur. What are you doing about it?" His grandmother looked amused by Liana’s embarrassment and Art’s feigned indifference. "Don’t worry, Grandma, I’m on it," he smiled and hugged her.

"Lia, promise me you’ll keep calling me even when you’re far away and fall in love in Europe," Jessica looked at her with a penetrating gaze. "Yes, Lia, promise her." Art said, causing her to look at him for a moment. At this stage, he wasn’t sure he would survive the day, but it would probably be a sweet way to die. "Jessica. If until now I’ve called once a week, without missing, nothing will change that." Liana hugged her again, and they moved towards the car.

"You're calling my grandma once a week?" Art didn’t know this. Why didn’t anyone tell him this? He wanted to scream. Since they were kids, Art was sure he wanted to be much closer to Liana than she wanted to be. And that was fine, he got used to the piercing looks, sarcastic words, and eye rolls. Stanford changed that. Stanford made them equals. They saw each other in the same way. They wanted to be close in the same way. They were in each other’s space. For him, Liana's change happened at Stanford. The change happened this year. And then he discovered things like this. He discovered that Liana was calling his dying grandma once a week and helping her pass the time.

"Can you fucking answer me?!" He raised his voice. He didn’t want to raise his voice. But his patience for the silent treatment, his punishment, had run out. He felt like a little boy who was told to stand in the corner for four months and expected not to explode.

"Arthur-" she sounded bored when he cut her off. "Art." He said firmly and made a sharp U-turn on the highway, driving in the opposite direction of their home. "What the fuck?! Art! Where are you going?" she asked, a bit scared by his change in approach. He didn’t answer her and continued driving until he stopped in a place empty of people, surrounded by sand with no building in sight.

"Where are we, Art?!" she asked for the umpteenth time.

Art got out of the car and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, hearing her get out too. "I'm not joking with you. Take me home. Now!" She crossed her arms under her chest, and he approached her, invading her personal space.

Liana managed to see his eyes up close for the first time in months. They were filled with tears. Her initial instinct was to reach out a hand to his cheek, but she restrained herself from moving. Their breathing was heavy as they examined each other. Art's first tear fell on his cheek.

Every bone in Liana's body screamed at her to hug him. Every internal and external limb of hers burned with the need to ease his pain. But she knew he didn’t deserve it. She knew that whatever was happening now, Art deserved to feel it.

"Please, Liana." He mumbled. His voice was broken. This wasn’t how Art planned this day. He planned to dress nicely, drive to his grandma’s, remind Liana of all the things he was good at. Remind her that he was much more kind than he was mean. Instead, he was crying. Instead, he was looking at her and realizing that in a few days she would leave, and maybe he would never feel the same way for anyone else. Maybe he didn’t want to feel all these emotions for anyone else. Maybe only with Liana could he feel so much.

Art slowly dropped to his knees. Not taking his eyes off Liana. Her breathing became even heavier, and her eyes filled with tears too. She had never seen such a thing. A person willing in the middle of the street to drop to their knees before another person, while in tears.

"Art, get up..." she mumbled, wanting to look around to see that no one was coming, but afraid to take her eyes off the scene before her. Her instinct won this time, and she placed both her hands on the sides of his face, wiping away the endless tears, while Art, like an addict to the feeling, leaned into the warm and gentle touch with his eyes closed.

"Do you even know what you did to me?" she asked, and he opened his eyes, looking at her with longing. With a desire to absorb everything she had to say to him. "You ruined me, Art Donaldson. You broke me." She said, and he stood up slowly. "I'm sorr-" he started, and her hand found his cheek with force. Liana wasn’t a violent person. Liana is not a violent person. "You have no right to ask for forgiveness." She stated. "That was the first time I slept with someone, Art." Her voice sounded like the cry of a wounded animal. "Did you think about what such a formative experience would do to my sex life? Did you think about the trust issues I would have? That I would never be able to trust anyone like I trusted you?" She cried so hard she couldn’t resist his embrace while his crying intensified.

"I will never be able to behave the way I behaved with you. You used me to get back at Patrick. You used me to win a competition only you participated in." She pushed him a bit away from her, and they stood facing each other again, both trying to breathe. After a few minutes of this, silence and piercing looks, Art dropped to his knees again, and Liana looked everywhere but at him. With the last of her strength, she tried to resist the magnetic pull Art Donaldson has on her. "Li, look at me." His broken voice commanded her without commanding, he couldn’t command anything for anyone. He was on his knees for her. "You're pathetic." She said. Without blinking. She never talked like that to anyone. All he could do was nod and hug her leg while she looked up at the sky, again with tears in her eyes, running a finger through one of his curls. "I will be good. I promise." He said what he demanded from her every time they were intimate with each other. Their gazes crossed once more, "I will be good even when you’re not here. I will be good for you."

HEYYYYYYYYY How are we doing with that gap of 2 days? I hope it was worth the wait. I hope that you're not getting tired of this story yet 'cause I'm still obsessed with them all, but I don't want you guys to feel like I'm dragging the entire thing. Patrick and Liana are going to London in the next part. Who's excited??? You're always welcome to the comments or the ask box and have a chat with me. also, taglist is open if you want :)

taglist: @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #the time of our lives

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nina-ya · 1 day

Note

Hihi I have a request I've been thinking

Could u do modern au with surgeon law and his s/o works at a children's hospital?

One day law (shockingly) gets off of work earlier than normal and decides to go to his s/o work to surprise picking them up.ariving there he gets guided to a room where his s/o is at. There is his s/o comforting a little girl who's in tears thanking s/o for everything and that she was gonna get discharged the next day after being in the hospital for months.i need laws reaction 💯%

Sorry if it's long ,ty in advance qwq💛🙏

A/N: AAAAAA HIII I had so much fun writing this i love love love modern au doctor stuff i have way too many thoughts circulating in my mind about it hgnnn ANYWAYS I DO HOPE YOU ENJOY!! Pairing: Law x reader CW: None, fluff WC: 1k

The clock on the wall struck the new hour, and with that, the end of Law’s shift. The hospital has a policy that forces residents to cap their hours at 80 a week to prevent fatigue and being overworked. With no choice but to leave, he found himself with some extra time on his hands.

Law grabbed his coat and slung his bag over his shoulder before heading out of the hospital. His mind immediately wandered to you and the children's hospital you worked at. It was just a walk down the road, since it was connected to the main hospital that he works at, and your shift just so happened to end in an hour. You two rarely get to go home together and this was an opportunity for Law to surprise you.

He walked across the street and entered the main entrance to the children's hospital. The bright colors and child-like aesthetic was a sharp contrast to the sterile environment of his own wing of the hospital. He approached a nurses station, greeting the nurse with a smile, asking where you were.

The nurse nodded, recognizing him and gestured behind her, “Room 203. You came at a good time, they’re wrapping up with the last patient.”

Law thanked the nurse and walked through the hallways to where you were. As he approached the room, he heard the soft murmur of your voice along with the sniffles and cries of what he could only assume was your patient. Law peered inside through the door and his heart softened at the sight before him. You were sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, with a little girl sobbing into your chest as you stroked her back.

She pulled back from the hug, her tear streaked face and trembling hands just pulling at Law's heartstrings. He watched as you gently wiped the tears, comforting and soothing her. “I’m so proud of you,” you said softly. “In just a few hours you will be going home and you will be able to sleep in your own bed.”

The little girl sniffled and looked up at you with wide and grateful eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “Thank you for everything.”

You smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You’ve been so brave, and I’m going to miss you. But remember, this isn’t goodbye forever. I’ll see you at your follow-up appointments.”

The girl sniffled again, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m going to miss you too,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

You glanced down at the stuffed animals pinned to your uniform, a small collection of soft companions that you kept to cheer the children up; perfect for moments like these. You unpinned a small, fluffy teddy bear and handed it to her. “Here,” you said, pressing the bear into her hands. “This is for you, to keep you company until we see each other again.”

Her eyes widened as she accepted the bear, clutching it tightly to her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered again, looking up at you with those tear filled eyes.

Just then, you looked up and noticed Law standing on the doorway, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His presence surprised you, and you jumped at the sight, gasping in surprise. “Law!” you said, a soft chuckle leaving your lips.

Law stepped into the room, his gaze gentle as he looked over at the young girl “Hi,” he greeted her with a small wave. “What's your name?”

The girls eyes widened even more at the sight of the Law, she seemed to suddenly grow shy, hiding behind her new stuffed friend as she responded. “My name is Lily.” She said in a quiet voice. She then turned to you and whispered “Is he your boyfriend?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the question, glancing over at Law. “You could say something like that,” you responded, watching as Law walked over and stood besides you two.

“Well, Lily,” he started, “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re quite the strong young girl.” The girl giggled, as she stared up at Law with beaming eyes.

“Did you know she’s getting discharged in the morning?” you asked, gleaming at the news.

“That’s wonderful news,” Law said, giving her an encouraging smile. “I’m sure everyone will miss you around here, but it’s great that you're going home.”

Lily nodded, clutching the teddy bear to her chest even tighter. “I’m gonna miss everyone, too,” she murmured.

You gave her one last hug before standing up. “I have to go now,” you said with a small frown. “But I’ll see you at your follow up appointments, okay?”

“Okay,” Lilly said, waving as you and Law headed towards the door.

As you walked down the hallway, Law gave you a glance, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re such a softy with the kids, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Oh, like you’re any better. I saw you almost tear up in there.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “You don’t have any proof of that. Besides, it’s cute seeing you get all emotional.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking back at him. “I work with kids. I can't be a hardened emotionless human unlike you can be.”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not emotionless. It just so happens that I apparently have a ‘resting bitch face’ according to the nurses,” he responded with a nudge of his own.

You giggled at his words, responding with “yeah, you kinda do.”

Law’s eyes widened in mock offense. “You’re on their side?” he asked with feign horror.

You laughed again, leaning into him as you walked. “I’ll always be on their side. Now come on, let’s go home. I don’t remember the last time we got to go home together.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Yeah, let’s make the most of it.” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You both stepped out of the hospital, the cold air of the night hitting you both as you walked to the car. You continued to tease each other on the way home, the banter flowing easily as you inched closer and closer to your home. You two always savored these fleeting moments, fully taking advantage of the time you two had together when you weren’t consumed by your hectic jobs. Your lives seemed to be perfect, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#nina responds~✦#nina writes~✦#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #law x reader

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callsign-rogueone · 1 day

Text

liam's lesson

bf! Xaden x reader x Liam Xaden decides to give Liam a lesson in pleasing a woman, but not just any woman; you, his girlfriend, who Liam's had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong? words: 5.3k (now officially my longest fic ever!) 🏷: NSFW, afab reader who is referred to with she/her prns and as a "girl", established relationship with Xaden, Liam has a puppy crush on you (we love pathetic, lovesick Liam in this house!), nothing between the boys, they're both just focused on you, fucking someone other than your partner (not cheating, as everyone involved is consenting) while said partner watches, maybe you're a little bit in love with Liam (aren't we all?) Xaden is in charge here, teaching Liam how to make you cum. oral, fingering, and penetrative sex (all f recieving), unprotected sex, very brief misuse of Xaden's shadows, Xaden is the king of Tyrrendor but Liam is the king of aftercare. I think that's everything. once again, proofread with a migraine so be nice. okay byeee

Admittedly, Liam had been a little nervous when Xaden had pulled him aside at dinner and told him to come over to his room around ten to talk — what secret, urgent revolution stuff did they need to discuss? Was something wrong back home? Surely he wouldn’t have waited if that was the case.

He knocks hesitantly, and the door unlocks for him — part of Xaden’s magic that Liam still isn’t used to. A lot has changed about his older brother in the two years they’ve been apart.

He starts to ask why Xaden wanted to see him at this hour, but then he catches a flash of pale blue in his periphery, his head turning toward the other side of the room, where he sees you stretched out on Xaden’s bed in your pajamas — which don’t leave much to the imagination.

He stops mid-sentence and whirls around, averting his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“Did you forget about the little conversation we had last week?” Xaden asks, amused.

It takes Liam a minute to realize what the older boy is referring to. “You were serious?”

He catches a glimpse of the lace-clad curve of your hip in the mirror in front of him, shutting his eyes tightly and willing himself not to get hard — not over his brother’s girlfriend. That’s definitely crossing a line.

“Of course I was serious,” Xaden answers.

“And you’re… you’re okay with this?” he asks you, still not convinced he isn’t dreaming.

“You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” you answer.

He still looks hesitant. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Liam nervous, but his normal confident and happy demeanor is nowhere to be seen. It hurts, somehow.

“Hey,” you soothe, sitting up straight, “if you don’t want to do this, that’s okay. We’ll never speak of it again.”

“No,” he answers, finally looking at you in the mirror, swallowing hard, “I do want to.”

It might ruin him forever, but he really does want this. He’s wanted something with you for ages, and if he can’t have the real thing — his lips on yours and his hands on your body, pleasing and worshiping you the way you deserve — he might as well watch Xaden do it instead.

“Okay, then.”

Xaden wastes no time pulling you into a deep kiss that you melt into almost instantly — so his dominance and control extends into the bedroom, too. That should have been obvious.

He pulls back after what feels like ages for Liam but mere seconds for you, and you whine softly, needing more.

“Hear that? That’s the sound you’re looking for. Those little whimpers, and the squirming. You want to get her nice and needy first.”

Liam nods, still just watching, unsure what his role will be in all of this. He tries to ignore the ache of his cock, tries not to think about it, but the sight of you in those tiny silk pajamas, if you could call them that, is impossible to look away from, and impossible not to get turned on by. He’ll definitely need to sort himself out after this is over, but at least it’ll fill the spank bank forever — he’s never going to forget this.

“Go ahead,” Xaden prods, and Liam feels like he might faint — this is a hands-on lesson? He’s supposed to touch you, not just watch?

You pat the space next to you on the bed, motioning for him to take a seat.

He kicks off his boots hastily, padding across the floor and stopping in front of you.

You uncross your legs, letting them dangle off the edge of the bed, your knees only an inch or two from his thighs now. “Hi, Li.”

Gods, the way you say his name so sweetly, shortening the four letter word into two, the way you’re gazing at him so sweetly, and the sight of you, your usual rider’s leather stripped away, with soft pastel silk in its place that covers less than half of what your uniform does... You even smell sweet, sugary and floral, a mix of all the pretty products you’d used in the shower you’d taken prior to this little engagement. He can tell how smooth and soft your skin must be even without touching it.

“Hi,” he manages, blinking at you.

There’s a few seconds of awkwardness before you take the reins, bringing a hand up to cradle his jaw and guide him to where you want him, his lips just an inch away from yours — letting him be the one to close the gap.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you say in a gentle whisper, setting your hand back down.

You’re too sweet, too kind and caring. This is a mistake, a terrible one, that he’ll likely never recover from, but he’ll regret it forever if he walks out on you right now; this will likely be the only opportunity he’ll ever have to touch you like this.

He leans forward, nudging his nose against yours gently before he goes in for a kiss, thankful that he’d brushed his teeth in the last hour. You taste sweet and minty, your lips slippery with whatever salve you use to keep them that soft.

You continue guiding him through it, settling one of his hands on your waist and the other on the small of your back, how Xaden had held you, deepening the kiss, introducing your tongue a bit, starting him off slowly.

He steps forward, nudging your legs apart with one of his so he can be even closer to you.

There’s that cute, needy sound that he’d been instructed to look for. Boldened, he holds you a little tighter, pulling you toward him the way he’d seen Xaden do. You seem to like it, tangling a hand in the soft black fabric of his tunic and tugging him closer, whining softly.

He finally pulls away, breathless, just looking into your eyes for a moment, memorizing them. He’s never been this close to you before, never noticed the little streaks and flecks of different colors within your irises...

“Good,” a deep voice assesses.

He startles, stepping back as he remembers that Xaden is still leaning against the armoire five feet away — after all, this is his room, his bed, and his girlfriend.

You’d almost forgotten, too.

“Keep kissing her, and grope her a little,” Xaden says candidly. “She likes being handled.”

Xaden’s wording gives him pause. Her, She. Not girls in general, but you. He’s teaching Liam how to please you. He shakes the thought from his head, reminding himself that this is a one-time thing.

You’re giving him that soft, worried look again. He steps forward, putting his hands back on your waist and pulling you into another deep kiss. You squeak in surprise as his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently over the slippery silk.

He chuckles, a warm, rumbling sound that you’ll never grow tired of hearing, his lips trailing over your jaw down to your neck.

Xaden likes to leave his mark on you, sucking at your skin hard enough to leave purple bruises the next day, scraping over your pulse with his teeth… but Liam just wants to savor you, to press gentle kisses to every inch of you, to nuzzle his nose into your neck and breathe you in.

You relax against him, content to let him continue kneading at your hips and waist, rubbing his hands over the smooth skin and massaging out any tension left over from the long day of classes and flight training.

He’s worked his way down your neck to your collarbones and chest, his lips brushing the neckline of your nightshirt. He hesitates there for a moment, unsure how to proceed, but Xaden is quick to give more directions.

“Arms up, honey.”

You comply readily, Liam helping lift your shirt over your head. He folds it into neat quarters before he sets it aside on Xaden’s desk, treating the silky fabric as carefully as he does its owner.

You give him a nod of permission, and he slides his hands up your ribs to your chest, admiring the weight of the soft flesh in his hands for a moment, squeezing gently.

“And these cute little nipples,” Xaden coos, curling a wisp of shadow over them. You whine softly at the cold sensation, squirming a bit, but he doesn’t seem to care, still speaking to Liam. “Play with them. Rub your fingers on them, pinch a little bit, suck on them… But be gentle. She’s sensitive.”

He starts off slow, brushing his thumbs over them gently while he returns his lips to your collarbones, pressing little kisses over the soft skin. And then he moves down, down…

You sigh happily at the feeling of Liam’s tongue laving over your nipple in slow, gentle licks, continuing to tease the other with his fingers. He wraps his lips around it, suckling gently, and you tangle a hand in his hair, cradling the back of his head and keeping him close.

“That’s a good sign, too,” Xaden instructs. “Keep going.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice — he’s intent on taking his sweet time with you, licking and sucking and teasing the sensitive little buds. He could do this for hours, just to hear your soft sighs of pleasure and see the blissful look on your face while he works.

You decide that Liam Mairi is simply perfect at everything he tries. The top of his class, and an excellent student. He’s done everything right, passing Xaden’s assessment with flying colors. But if he’s this good with his tongue up here… you need that pretty blond head between your thighs, immediately.

“Shh, honey,” Xaden soothes. “He’ll give you what you need in a minute.”

You flush, realizing that your soft whimpers have become more frequent and higher pitched, more urgent, bordering on pathetic.

Liam pulls back, taking a second to admire you and giving your chest one last squeeze before he moves further down.

Gentle fingers hook into the waistband of the tiny pair of shorts you’re wearing, pulling them down your legs along with the even tinier underwear, a scrap of lace that while very pretty and undoubtedly expensive, must be removed, as it stands in the way of him burying his face between those gorgeous thighs of yours.

He wonders if you’ll taste as sweet as you had in those shameful dreams, the ones that had necessitated long, cold showers in the morning and sitting clear across the table from you at breakfast, trying not to look you in the eye.

“I’ll take those,” Xaden volunteers smugly, and Liam tosses them at him, returning his attention to your pussy.

“Holy shit, honey,” he swears, “you’re soaked.”

“Good,” Xaden praises. “That means you did everything right so far. But you still need to make her cum before I’ll let you fuck her.”

Liam’s eyes widen almost comically. He hadn’t expected Xaden to let him touch you at all, but now he’s allowed to go all the way with you? This has to be a dream.

“Only if you’re comfortable with that,” you remind him gently. “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” he answers, too quickly. Cute.

You smile at him; another tiny cut that will be rubbed full of salt tomorrow morning, when he’ll have to see you sitting with Xaden at breakfast and pretend this never happened, that he hasn’t known the taste of your lips and the feel of your skin.

“Then hop to it, pretty boy,” you encourage, smiling — it’s clear that you don’t mean it as an insult, but as a sweet pet name; he’s absolutely gorgeous.

Liam doesn’t need instructions for this part. He gets you settled up against the pillows, making sure you’re comfortable there before he gets to work. He kisses each of your hip bones, his hands smoothing over your legs to part them enough to accommodate his broad shoulders as he lays down on his stomach, hooking his muscled arms around your thighs.

Xaden crosses the room toward you, perching on the edge of his desk, right next to the bed.

You gasp softly at the feeling of Liam’s tongue on you — he’s doing exactly what he’d done to your chest, those soft little licks and sucks, his hands massaging your thighs gently…

“Just like that,” you breathe. He’s worked you up so well that you’re already close, and if he keeps doing what he’s doing, you’ll be cumming on his tongue in a minute or two.

He’s a very fast learner, and incredibly responsive— he’s figured out what earns him those cute little noises that have him throbbing with need, and now he’s doing those things over and over.

He resists the urge to reach down and stroke himself to take the edge off, knowing he wouldn’t last, not with how sweet you taste and the warmth and softness of your thigh against his cheek, your hand in his hair…

“Liam,” you mew, tugging at the soft blonde strands.

Your jaw drops at the realization of just how easily his name left your lips, how natural it felt… You look over at Xaden, wanting to apologize, but it’s hard to form words right now with how good Liam’s tongue feels sucking at your clit.

“It’s okay, honey,” Xaden soothes, tilting your chin up with a gentle hand. “You should let him know how good it feels — how else will he learn, hm?”

You nod, your eyes still locked with his. The depth of those nearly-black irises is such a stark contrast to Liam’s ice blue, but you could easily drown in both, never able to find your way back up to the surface.

“Slip a finger in, slowly.”

Liam’s hands are just as giant as Xaden’s, his fingers just as thick — but rougher, calloused from his constant whittling. Such a cute, innocent hobby. But there’s nothing innocent about the way he’s touching you right now.

“Look for that little rough spot,” Xaden instructs, still looking you directly in the eye. “Press into it a little bit.”

You whimper softly, entranced by the little gold flecks in his irises.

“Sounds like you found it,” he says, sounding amused. “Now curl your fingertips against it, press up on it gently…”

Liam is a perfect soldier, in every sense of both words; very good at following orders, complying without hesitation and getting the job done, but he might be too perfect, too gentle and handsome and kind, too loving… too good to be true. He’s going to absolutely ruin you — both by making you fall apart for him, in what is undoubtedly going to be one of the best orgasms of your life, and by breaking your heart when this is all over.

You focus back on the pleasure, the thoughts fading away quickly. “So good, baby,” you breathe, “just like that.”

Liam hums in acknowledgment, continuing the motions, the soft lap of his tongue and the gentle press of his fingertip into that special little spot quickly building up the pressure between your hips, getting you closer and closer…

“Add a second finger. You’ll need to stretch her a little if you want your cock to fit.”

It’s easy enough for him to slip in his middle finger beside his index, your body providing no resistance to the intrusion; you’re aching for it. You have been since Xaden told you about this little plan of his.

You need to thank him profusely for this later. Maybe you’ll get on your knees for him in the shower, or- “oh,” you gasp, the deep pleasure intensifying now that Liam is pushing two fingers into that little spot… you’re not going to last.

“Xay,” you whimper, remembering the rules he’d laid out for you prior to Liam’s arrival — Liam might be allowed to play with you for one night, but you’re still very much Xaden’s, and he’s still very much in control here.

He coos down at you patronizingly. “You getting close, honey? You wanna cum on Liam’s fingers?“

“Yes, please,” you pant, whining up at him.

“Such good manners,” he praises. “Go ahead, honey. Show him how pretty you sound when you cum.”

It only takes a few more seconds of that delicious pressure building before it becomes enough to throw you over the edge. You whine, tightening around Liam’s fingers and squirming in his grasp, babbling a mix of swear words and thank-you’s and both of their names.

Liam slows his pace, letting you ride it out with a few more soft licks.

“Keep going,” Xaden orders. “She knows what to say if it’s too much. Doesn’t she, honey?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage between your cute little cries, gasping as you feel cold bands of shadow wrap around the backs of your knees, keeping your legs spread while you squirm in sensitivity, undecided between chasing the pleasure and running from it.

Thank the gods for sound shields.

It’s clear to Xaden that you’re reaching your limit, starting to get overwhelmed, and he doesn’t want to wear you out just yet. “Stop,” he orders, calling back his shadows.

Liam withdraws his fingers, and you slump back down against the pillows, spent and panting.

Liam doesn’t have to be told to comfort you after, to take care of you in the comedown — he does it instinctively. “Shh, honey,” he soothes, scooping you into his lap and holding you close. “It’s okay.”

You rest your head against his collarbone, cuddling into him and letting your eyes fall shut, just taking a moment to breathe.

“You did so good for us, pretty girl. Just breathe, hm? You’re safe with us.”

Xaden had convinced himself that this would be a one-off thing, but seeing the tenderness with which Liam is holding you, stroking your hair and cooing soft praises…

Liam’s a good guy, kind-hearted and caring, but this isn’t just that — no, this is genuine love that he senses between you. It might be heightened right now due to the incredibly intimate experience you just had with one another, but there’s something there. He gets the feeling that there always has been, even before your days at Basgiath; it’s just been brought to the surface tonight, and oddly enough, Xaden isn’t mad about it at all.

It should piss him off. He should detest the idea of another pair of hands, male hands, on his girl, but it’s Liam. He loves Liam. Not in the way he loves you — and he doesn’t want to fuck him, that’s for sure — but he cares for the younger boy deeply, and if anyone else is going to be touching his girl, he’d want it to be Liam. Maybe that’s why he’d suggested this whole thing in the first place.

You’ve made a full recovery by now, caught your breath, and you sit up in Liam’s lap, drawing him into a kiss.

Such a needy little thing, always eager for more. Liam is happy to help, kissing you back easily, smoothing his hands over your sides and kneading your hips. He places a hand on the back of your head, another on your waist, laying you down in one slow, fluid movement — again, with the utmost gentleness, making sure that you’re comfortable.

“Put a pillow under her hips,” Xaden instructs.

Liam takes one from the head of the bed, his other hand hooking under your knees to lift your lower body off the bed — you giggle, impressed by his strength.

Liam wonders if you like being thrown around a little bit, manhandled, held down… you’d look and sound so pretty getting pounded into the mattress, face-down ass-up, whimpering into the pillows, but he’s not wasting this opportunity on a quick, rough fuck — and Xaden would probably take issue with that, anyway. No, Liam’s going to take his sweet time with you, treat you nice and gently, and look into your eyes while he does it.

Your jaw drops at the sight of him finally pantsless, the thick black uniform fabric pulled off to expose the pale muscle of his thighs. Gods, you’d love to straddle one and just grind against it while you kiss him, those giant hands on your hips helping guide you back and forth until you came, and then…

Holy shit.

Everything about Liam Mairi is perfect, including — and especially — his cock. And you need it inside you, now.

He strokes himself once, twice, as if he isn’t rock-hard already, dragging the tip through your wetness, letting it tease your clit…

You whimper softly, shifting your hips down to try to guide him into you.

“Words, honey,” he reminds, in a tone eerily similar to Xaden’s. The last twenty minutes have certainly boldened him.

“Want you to fuck me, Liam, please,” you ask softly, pouting up at him. “Need it.”

He could never say no to that pretty face, never deprive you of anything you wanted. He slowly pushes forward, giving you the first two inches.

You take in that same little breath you do when Xaden slides into you, looking up at Liam the same way, with glossy eyes and parted lips, gripping the sheets on either side of you. He takes one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “You okay, honey?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, taking a moment to adjust. He’s not quite as big as Xaden, but it’s still more than enough to fill you completely, a slight stretch as he slowly makes his way forward, a little bit at a time.

He leans down to kiss you, stroking a roughened hand over the softness of your waist soothingly. It’s taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to lose it right now, at the feeling of you wrapped around him, but he needs to make sure you’re okay first before he does anything else.

“M’ ready,” you tell him softly.

“If it hurts, say the word and I’ll stop, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” you answer obediently, your heart melting — Liam has always been sweet to you, if a little shy, but right now it’s increased fourfold, every word and every touch coated with love and care.

“Attagirl,” he praises, giving you a little peck before he straightens back up, adjusting his hold on your waist and starting to rock his hips into yours.

You both gasp in unison at the feeling, soft pleasure spreading through your core.

“How’s she feel?” Xaden asks, a note of smug amusement in his tone — it's clear that Liam is finally starting to lose his grip a little, his breathing getting heavier, his cheeks flushed…

“Like heaven,” he answers, trying to keep his composure, “so warm and wet and tight… fuck,”

He’s so fucking deep inside you, hitting all the right spots and touching you in the right places, working his way into your heart and carving out a space for himself between your ribs. You hold his hand a little tighter, whimpering softly.

“Doing so good for me, honey, taking me so well,” Liam soothes, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “How’s that feel?”

“Really… good… So… deep,” you manage, your eyes still locked with his, your breaths coming in little pants and gasps.

“Yeah?” he asks, teasing, “Can you feel me in your tummy, baby?” He lays a giant hand between your hips, pushing down, and your jaw drops — the added pressure makes you feel even more full of him, makes every sensation more overwhelming and intense.

Where did he learn to do that?

“Uh-huh,” you stammer. “Feels so good, ah,” It’s very good. Overwhelmingly good.

Xaden makes a mental note to try that with you later — you look like you absolutely love it.

The little fucker didn’t need lessons at all, just a confidence boost, and you’re certainly giving that to him. Xaden knew that deep down, knew about that little puppy crush he’s had on you for years, which hadn’t faded in the time you’d been apart, but decided to offer you up anyway, precise reasons unknown.

He gets the feeling that this might not be a one-night thing after all. But maybe that’s for the best. Maybe Liam can warm your bed and tend to your heart while he’s busy running his revolution and spending late nights on wingleader duty, doing his dagger drops with the fliers…

Liam adjusts the position of his hand, a long finger reaching down to swirl over your clit, and the combination of it all is enough to get you there.

You tear your eyes away from Liam’s to look over at Xaden, a panicked little whimper leaving your lips.

He knows exactly what that sound means. “Shh, honey, it’s okay,” he coos, stroking your hair. “You can cum.”

“Thank you, oh, fuck,”

Liam hadn’t gotten a proper look at you last time, his eyes closed and his head tucked between your thighs, but looking down at you now, seeing your face; cheeks flushed, lips parted in cute little panting breaths, hands clutching the sheets… and then he feels it — feels you clamp down on him, your thighs trembling against his as you shatter.

“Fuck,” Liam rasps, his fingers digging into your hips to ground himself as he continues to fuck you through it.

You’re drowning in the deep blue of his eyes, and you need something to hold on to. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down by the shoulders so he’s practically laying on top of you — you always do this to Xaden, needing to feel him close to you in your hazy state, and Liam isn’t an exception.

The closeness definitely does something to Liam as well. He braces his forearms against the bed and continues to rock his hips into yours, panting soft praises. “Attagirl. So pretty, so soft and sweet and perfect… you feel so fucking good, sweetheart, doing so well for me.”

If you weren’t his brother’s girlfriend, he’d probably throw an I love you in there too, find some way to call you his, to tell you how much you mean to him outside of this bed, but he still has enough rationality left to know would be a bad idea even without Xaden supervising this whole thing.

He’s so close to you, your entire bodies pressed together, your breaths mixing and noses brushing… you’re clinging to him, continuing to whimper up at him softly… He’s about to fall apart himself.

“You can cum inside her, if you want,” Xaden offers, too casually.

You keen at the idea, shifting your hips to try to take him deeper.

“Oh, would you like that, pretty girl?” he asks teasingly, through panting breaths. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes, please,” you beg, wrapping your legs around him tighter.

He’s not going to last. He starts to move a little faster, chasing his own high — he’s never waited this long, never spent so much time on a partner’s pleasure, and while you absolutely deserved it, he needs his own release desperately. “Oh, fuck,” he gasps, “gonna cum, baby, are you sure you want me to—”

You tangle your hand in the short blonde hair at the back of his neck and yank him down into a kiss, keeping your legs tight around his waist, not letting him pull out.

He whines against your lips, the prettiest little muffled moan as he spills into you.

“Holy shit,” he pants, his cheeks red from the exertion. He’s always pretty, but nothing beats this, all flushed and fucked out, his hair mussed and lips swollen from the kisses you’d shared, eyes half-lidded…

You commit the sight to memory, suddenly hit with the realization that you’ll never see it again. For all intents and purposes, this “lesson” is over, and starting tomorrow morning, Liam will go back to being your boyfriend’s little brother, and nothing else.

He seems to realize the same thing, resting his head over your heart and breathing you in for a moment, the both of you lingering in the afterglow, not wanting to say goodbye. You hold him a little closer, stroking your hand through his damp hair silently.

Xaden lets you have a minute together, seeming to understand the significance of this moment for the both of you, and backing off.

He slips down from his perch on the edge of the desk, giving you space, but you reach for him, wanting him close, too.

“Can Li stay the night?” you ask in a small voice, not ready for him to leave.

He smiles at you. “Of course he can, sweet girl.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Now let's get you both cleaned up.”

You hum sleepily, letting him pull you up out of bed and get you ready for the showers.

It’s surprisingly not awkward, the two boys working in tandem to clean you up — neither of them mind the other’s presence, having been desensitized to casual nudity from years — or in Liam’s case, weeks — of sharing a bathing room with a handful of strangers.

Liam dries you off, sorting out your hair while Xaden helps rub in that sweet-smelling lotion and dresses you in one of his shirts before you flop down into bed, cuddling up between them contentedly.

You give Liam a sweet little goodnight kiss before you roll over, working yourself into Xaden’s arms like you always do, curling up against the strength of his chest, your head over his heart.

This could work, Xaden decides. You have enough room in your heart for both of them, and he knows that Liam’s intentions are pure — the only hitch will be managing his own emotions, namely any jealousy that arises over another man being romantic with his girlfriend.

It had honestly surprised him when he’d decided to offer Liam a night with you. He’s always considered himself possessive, ready to glare at anyone who looked at you too long — and that had intensified after he’d gotten his magic, once he could “read” people, but maybe that’s why he’d let Liam in, because he felt nothing but love and admiration from the boy.

Still, he can’t help but feel a little left out, even if he’d been the one controlling the whole situation — he hadn’t gotten off himself, too focused on coaching Liam and making sure you were okay, and then it would just have been awkward to do anything with you while Liam sat there idle…

Tomorrow morning, after Liam heads back to his own room, you’ll have some fun, just the two of you. Maybe he’ll tie you up with his shadows again, or press you up against the wall in the showers… the possibilities are endless, but he’ll probably decide on sleepy morning sex. It’s a Friday night, so you can sleep in a little Saturday morning, and have time for a lazy, loving fuck before anything is expected of either of you. He’ll remind you how much you love each other, and treat you as sweetly as Liam had — admittedly, he hasn’t been too gentle with you lately, focused on fucking out the stress of his third year, and being wingleader and leading a revolution on top of it all, but you’d taken it well, literally.

He’ll sleep on it, give it a day or two to simmer before he’ll discuss it with each of you; you first, of course, to see what you say so he doesn’t get Liam’s hopes up, but from the way your hand is still tangled up with Liam’s, his chest pressed to your back and his face nuzzled into the side of your neck, it’s pretty clear that neither of you would be opposed to them sharing you.

But all that can wait — for now, you just need to rest, tucked safely between the two boys that love you more than anyone else in the world.

#liam mairi #xaden riorson #fourth wing #liam mairi x reader #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing x reader #mine #18+#smut

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