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damienkarras73 · 4 months

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An essay on Furiosa, the politics of the Wasteland, Arthurian literature and realistic vs. formalistic CGI

Mad Max: Fury Road absolutely enraptured me when it came out nearly a decade ago, and I will cop to seeing it four times at the theatre. For me (and many others who saw the light of George Miller) it set new standards for action filmmaking, storytelling and worldbuilding, and I could pop in its Blu Ray at any time and never get tired of it. Perhaps not surprisingly, I was deeply apprehensive about the announced prequel for Fury Road's actual main character, Furiosa, even if Miller was still writing and directing. We didn't need backstory for Furiosa—hell, Fury Road is told in such a way that NOTHING in it requires explicit backstory. And since it focuses on the Yung Furiosa, it meant Charlize Theron couldn't return with another career-defining performance. Plus, look at all that CGI in the trailer, it can't be as good as Fury Road.

Turns out I was silly to doubt George Miller, M.D., A.O., writer and director of Babe: Pig in the City and Happy Feet One & Two.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is excellent, and I needn't have worried about it not being as good as Fury Road because it is not remotely trying to be Fury Road. Fury Road is a lean, mean machine with no fat on it, nothing extraneous, operating with constant forward momentum and only occasionally letting up to let you breathe a little; Furiosa is a classical epic, sprawling in scope, scale and structure, and more than happy to let the audience simmer in a quiet, almost painfully still moment. If its opening spoken word sequence by that Gandalf of the Wastes himself, the First History Man, didn't already clue you in, it unfolds like something out of myth, a tale told over and over again and whose possible embellishments are called attention to in the dialogue itself. Where Fury Road scratched the action nerd itch in my head like you wouldn't believe, Furiosa was the equivalent of Miller giving the undulating folds of my English major brain a deep tissue massage. That's great! I, for one, love when sequels/prequels endeavour to be fundamentally different movies from what they're succeeding/preceding, operating in different modes, formats and even genres, and more filmmakers should aim for it when building on an existing series.

This movie has been on my mind so much in the past week that I've ended up dedicating several cognitive processes to keeping track of all of the different ponderings it's spawned. Thankfully, Furiosa is divided into chapters (fun fact: putting chapter cards in your movie is a quick way to my heart), so it only seems fitting that I break up all of these cascading thoughts accordingly.

1. The Pole of Inaccessibility

Furiosa herself actually isn't the protagonist for the first chapter of her own movie, instead occupying the role of a (very crafty and resourceful) damsel in distress for those initial 30-40 minutes. The real hero of the opening act, which plays out like a game of cat and mouse, is Furiosa's mother Mary Jabassa, who rides out into the wasteland first on horseback and then astride a motorcycle to track down the band of raiders that has stolen away her daughter. Mary's brought to life by Miller and Nico Lathouris' economical writing and a magnetic performance by newcomer Charlee Fraser, who radiates so much screen presence in such relatively little time and with one of those instant "who is SHE??" faces. She doesn't have many lines, but who needs them when Fraser can convey volumes about Mary with just a flash of her eyes or the effortless way she swaps out one of her motorcycle's wheels for another. To be quite candid, I'm not sure of the last time I fell in love with a character so quickly.

You notice a neat aesthetic contrast between mother and daughter in retrospect: Mary Jabassa darts into the desert barefoot, clad in a simple yet elegant dress, her wolf cut immaculate, only briefly disguising herself with the ugly armour of a raider she just sniped, and when she attacks it's almost with grace, like some Greek goddess set loose in the post-apocalyptic Aussie outback with just her wits and a bolt-action rifle; we track Furiosa's growth over the years by how much of her initially conventional beauty she has shed, quite literally in one case (hair buzzed, severed arm augmented with a chunky mechanical prosthesis, smeared in grease and dirt from head to toe, growling her lines at a lower octave), and by how she loses her mother's graceful approach to movement and violence, eventually carrying herself like a blunt instrument. Yet I have zero doubt the former raised the latter, both angels of different feathers but with the same steel and resolve. Of fucking course this woman is Furiosa's mother, and in the short time we know her we quickly understand exactly why Furiosa has the drive and morals she does without needing to resort to didactic exposition.

Anyway, I was tearing up by the end of the first chapter. Great start!

2. Lessons from the Wasteland

Most movies—most stories, really—don't actually tell the entire narrative from A to Z. Perhaps the real meat of the thing is found from H to T, and A-G or U-Z are unnecessary for conveying the key narrative and themes. So many prequels fail by insisting on telling the A-G part of the story, explaining how the hero earned a certain nickname or met their memorable sidekick—but if that stuff was actually interesting, they likely would have included it in the original work. The greatest thing a prequel can actually do is recontextualize, putting iconic characters or moments in a new light, allowing you to appreciate them from a different angle. All of season 2 of Fargo serves to explain why Molly Solverson's dad is appropriately wary when Lorne Malvo enters his diner for a SINGLE SCENE in the show's first season. David's arc from the Alien prequels Prometheus and Covenant—polarizing as those entries are—adds another layer to why Ash is so protective of the creature in the first movie. Andor gives you a sense of what it's like for a normal, non-Jedi person to live under the boot of the Empire and why so many of them would join up with the Rebel Alliance—or why they would desire to wear that boot, or even just crave the chance to lick it.

Furiosa is one of those rare great prequels because it makes us take a step back and consider the established world with a little more nuance, even if it's still all so absurd. In Fury Road, Immortan Joe is an awesome, endlessly quotable villain, completely irredeemable, and basically a cartoon. He works perfectly as the antagonist of that breakneck, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote-ass movie, but if you step outside of its adrenaline-pumping narrative for even a moment you risk questioning why nobody in the Citadel or its surrounding settlements has risen up against him before. Hell, why would Furiosa even work for him to begin with? But then you see Dementus and company tear-assing around the wasteland, seizing settlements and running them into the ground, and you realize Joe and his consortium offer something that Dementus reasonably can't: stability—granted, an unwavering, unchangeable stability weighted in favour of Joe's own brutal caste system, but stability nonetheless. It really makes you wonder, how badly does a guy have to suck to make IMMORTAN JOE of all people look like a sane, competent and reasonable ruler by comparison?!?

…and then they open the door to the vault where he keeps his wives, and in a flash you're reminded just how awful Joe is and why Furiosa will risk her life to help some of these women flee from him years later. This new context enriches Joe and makes it more believable that he could maintain power for so long, but it doesn't make him any less of a monster, and it says a lot about Furiosa's hate for Dementus that she could grit her teeth and work for this sick old tyrant.

3. The Stowaway

Here's another wild bit of trivia about this movie: you don't actually see top-billed actress Anya Taylor-Joy pop up on screen until roughly halfway through, once Furiosa is in her late teens/early twenties. Up until this point she's been played by Alyla Browne, who through the use of some seamless and honestly really impressive CGI has been given Anya's distinctive bug eyes [complimentary]. It's one of those bold choices that really works because Miller commits to it so hard, though it does make me wish Browne's name was up on the poster next to Taylor-Joy's.

Speaking of CGI, I should talk about what seems to be a sticking point for quite a few people: if there's been one consistent criticism of Furiosa so far, it's that it doesn't look nearly as practical or grounded as Fury Road, with more obvious greenscreen and compositing, and what previously would've been physical stunt performers and pyrotechnics have been replaced with their digital equivalents for many shots. Simply put, it doesn't look as real! For a lot of people, that practicality was one of Fury Road's primary draws, so I won't try to quibble if they're let down by Furiosa's overt artificiality, but to be honest I'm actually quite fine with it. It helps that this visual discrepancy doesn't sneak up on you but is incredibly apparent right from the aerial zoom-down into Australia in the very first scene, so I didn't feel misled or duped.

Fury Road never asks you to suspend your disbelief because it all looks so believable; Furiosa jovially prods you to suspend that disbelief from the get-go and tune into it on a different wavelength. It's a classical epic, and like the classical epics of the 1950s and 60s it has a lot of actors standing in front of what clearly are matte paintings. It feels right! We're not watching fact, we're watching myth. I'm willing to concede there might be a little bit of post-hoc rationalization on my part because I simply love this movie so much, but I'm not holding the effects in Furiosa to the same standard as those in Fury Road because I simply don't believe Miller and his crew are attempting to replicate that approach. Without the extensive CGI, we don't get that impressive long, panning take where a stranded Furiosa scans the empty, dust-and-sun-scoured wasteland (75% Sergio Leone, 25% Andrei Tarkovsky), or the Octoboss and his parasailing goons. For the sake of intellectual exercise I did try imagining them filming the Octoboss/war rig sequence with the same immersive practical approach they used for Fury Road's stunts, however I just kept picturing dead stunt performers, so perhaps the tradeoff was worth it!

4. Homeward

Around the same time we meet the Taylor-Joy-pilled Furiosa in Chapter 3, we're introduced to Praetorian Jack, the chief driver for the convoys running between the Citadel and its allied settlements. Jack's played by Tom Burke, who pulled off a very good Orson Welles in Mank! and who I should really check out in The Souvenir one of these days. He's also a cool dude! Here are some facts about Praetorian Jack:

He's decked out in road leathers with a pauldron stitched to one shoulder

He's stoic and wary, but still more or less personable and can carry on a conversation

Professes to a certain cynicism, to quote Special Agent Albert Rosenfield, but ultimately has a capacity for kindness and will do the right thing

Shoots a gun real good

Can drive like nobody's business

So in other words, Jack is Mad Max. But also, no, he clearly isn't! He looks and dresses like Mad Max (particularly Mel Gibson's) and does a lot of the same things "Mad" Max Rockatansky does, but he's also very explicitly a distinct character. It's a choice that seems inexplicable and perhaps even lazy on its face, except this is a George Miller movie, so of course this parallel is extremely purposeful. Miller has gone on record saying he avoids any kind of strict chronology or continuity for his Mad Max movies, compared to the rigid canons for Star Trek and Star Wars, and bless him for doing so. It's more fun viewing each Mad Max entry as a new revision or elaboration on a story being told again and again generations after the fall, mutating in style, structure and focus with every iteration, becoming less grounded as its core narrative is passed from elder to youth, community to community, genre to genre, until it becomes myth. (At least, my English major brain thinks it's more fun.) In fact there's actually something Arthurian to it, where at first King Arthur was mentioned in several Welsh legends before Geoffrey of Monmouth crafted an actual narrative around him, then Chrétien de Troyes added elements like Lancelot and infused the stories with more romance, and then with Le Morte d'Arthur Thomas Malory whipped the whole cycle together into one volume, which T.H. White would chop and screw and deconstruct with The Once and Future King centuries later.

All this to say: maybe Praetorian Jack looks and sounds and acts like Max because he sorta kinda basically is, being just one of many men driving back and forth across the wasteland, lending a hand on occasion, who'll be conflated into a single, legendary "Mad Max" at some point down the line in a different History Man's retelling of Furiosa's odyssey. Sometimes that Max rips across the desert in his V8 Interceptor, other times driving a big rig. Perhaps there's a dog tagging along and/or a scraggly and at first aggravating ally played by Bruce Spence or Nicholas Hoult. Usually he has a shotgun. But so long as you aren't trying to kill him, he'll help you out.

5. Beyond Vengeance

The Mad Max movies have incredibly iconic villains—Immortan Joe! Toecutter! the Lord Humongous!—but they are exactly that, capital V Villains devoid of humanizing qualities who you can't wait to watch bad things happen to. Furiosa appears to continue this trend by giving us a villain who in fact has a mustache long enough that he could reasonably twirl it if he so wanted, but ironically Dementus ends up being the most layered antagonist in the entire series, even moreso than the late Tina Turner's comparatively benevolent Aunty Entity from Beyond Thunderdome. And because he's played by Chris Hemsworth, whose comedic delivery rivals his stupidly handsome looks, you lock in every time he's on screen.

Something so fascinating about Dementus is that, for a main antagonist, he's NOT all-powerful, and in fact quite the opposite: he's more conman than warlord, looking for the next hustle, the next gullible crowd he can preach to and dupe—though never for long. For all his bluster, at every turn he finds himself in way over his head and writing cheques he can't cash, and this self-induced Sisyphean torment makes him riveting to watch. You're tempted to pity Dementus but it's also quite difficult to spare sympathy for someone who's so quick to channel their rage and hurt and ego into thoughtless, burn-it-all-down destruction. When you're not laughing at him, you're hating his guts, and it's indisputably the best work of Chris Hemsworth's career.

It's in this final chapter that everything naturally comes to a head: Furiosa's final evolution into the character we meet at the start of Fury Road, the predictable toppling of Dementus' precariously built house of cards, and the mythmaking that has been teased since the very first scene becoming diagetic text, the last of which allows the movie to thoroughly explore the themes of vengeance it's been building to. A brief war begins, is summarized and is over in the span of roughly a minute, and on its face it's a baffling narrative choice that most other filmmakers would have botched. But our man Miller's smart enough to recognize that the result of this war is the most foregone of conclusions if you've been paying even the slightest bit of attention, so he effectively brushes past it to get to the emotional heart of the climax and an incredible "Oh shit!" payoff that cements Miller as one of mainstream cinema's greatest sickos.

Fury Road remains the greatest Mad Max film, but Furiosa might be the best thing George Miller has ever made. If not his magnum opus, it does at least feel like his dissertation, and it makes me wish Warner Bros. puts enough trust in him despite Furiosa's poor box office performance that he's able to make The Wasteland. Absolutely ridiculous that a man just short of his 80th birthday was able to pull this off, and with it I feel confident calling him one of my favourite directors.

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lexirosewrites · 12 days

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I started watching too many videos abt human pregnancy & pets... & this thought wouldn't leave me

Steve & Eddie aren't mated yet, but they're living together, plan to mate, r already engaged, planning to maybe have a wedding or elope depending on how much a wedding would cost, when they adopt a dog (specifically a scottish deerhound bc I dream abt owning this breed in my wildest fantasy & what is fanfic if not wish fulfillment) after moving into a house they bought with the hush money

They love this dog, they did a lot of research into ethical breeders & how best to care for her breed, they've trained her in basics before moving onto more complicated commands & finally going thru a process to train her in the basics of emotional support (bc both of them have nightmares)

her full name is Gandalf the Gray Munson but they've both ended up just calling her Gray, for the most part Gray likes both of her owners equally she'll sit w Eddie as he paints minis or writes, she'll follow Steve around the kitchen or go with him on his morning run, & she'll sit w her owners as they watch something or try to dance w them when they listen to music, she even guards the door to their bedroom when either of them goes into heat/rut & will only move when a human she trusts comes to pick her up so they can take care of her without her owners worrying

Steddie finally elope & have a party w their closest family & friends afterwards, they exchange mating bites & have a short honeymoon, Gray is ecstatic when they get back to say the least, then a week or 2 after they get back Gray starts acting differently... she'll almost exclusively follow Steve around, she sniffs him more often, she cuddles him A LOT & then... Steve's period doesn't arrive so he takes several tests & every single one is positive!!

From there Gray's behavior starts to change more dramatically as the happy couple prepare to welcome their sweet baby into the world, as Steve progresses & his belly starts showing Gray needs to be near Steve like never before, she's purposefully slow on their morning jaunt tht has gone from a run to a walk, when they're out & she's w them & ppl decide to treat Steve's belly like it's public property she'll actually growl & even once jumped at a particularly insistent woman, she begins guarding Steve against pretty much everyone especially Eddie, the only exception to this is Aunty Robin the 3 of them often have cuddle puddles as Steve gets bigger & Eddie is very jealous, Gray especially loves lying w steve in a way tht allows her head to rest on his belly & as the baby grows she feels the baby kick more than once quickly loving the connection w her younger human sibling

when the day of the birth gets near she is glued to Steve & when his belly drops she's climbing into bed w steve & comforts him as the discomfort of pregnancy makes itself known even more

(This part is partially inspired by my mom's experience when she went into labour w me)

Steve gets up late at night because he thinks he needs to pee, Gray follows him into the bathroom as she's done all these 40 weeks, when he pees he realizes right away it isn't actually pee & gray obviously knows it as well

While steve slowly stands & processes tht his water just broke, she does something they never trained her to do: she runs & wakes up Eddie as Steve grips the sink when a contraction hits practicing the breathing he's learned, Eddie is literally dragged into the bathroom by Gray bc she's got his shirt in her mouth, he realizes what's happening & it's controlled chaos as he runs around grabbing Steve's shoes, a pair of clean sweat pants for his omega, & the maternity shirt Eddie’s been scenting every day for the last 40 weeks, he's got the hospital bag over his shoulder, car keys, he's actively calling Robin to come to their house & watch Gray while he's helping steve to the car, as they're driving to the hospital he's on the phone w their doctor telling her to meet them at the hospital they all planned to be at,

after they get to the hospital it all goes relatively smoothly: steve gives birth to a healthy baby boy, Eddie is a helpful presence in the birthing room, neither baby boy or steve have health complications, but it still takes close to 10 hours of active labor to meet their son, after its done steve demands Eddie get him a cheeseburger, strawberry milkshake, & French fries from their favorite diner that's literally open by the time steve is in his hospital room recuperating and their son is back from a short bath & the usual medical procedures tht hospitals follow after the birth of a baby

When Steve & the baby come home a few days later Gray is ecstatic to see Steve again & so so curious & loving of her new human brother 💖

(I'm so sorry if there's any inaccurate medicine happening here, please tell me what I missed or even messed up)

i’ve always said that Steve and Eddie need an emotional support dog to help them with their trauma after everything they’ve been through, but Gray goes above and beyond for his little family🥺😭💕

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #my asks #mpreg #cw mpreg #tw mpreg #child birth #childbirth #cw childbirth #tw childbirth

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sweetbans29 · 4 months

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Mistakes - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin was your world. When she decides you aren't hers she lets you go, leaving her with nothing but regrets and her facing the biggest mistake she has made on your biggest day.

Warnings: Angst - no happy ending

Word Count: 2.7k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: It has been a minute and I need pain.

THE BEGINNING.

Freshman year of college brought so much more than you could ever expect. The summer before your senior year of high school is when you committed to Iowa to play basketball. You weren't planning on heading East but after talking to Coach Bluder and Coach Jensen - it was a no-brainer. You were also excited to hear some of the other talent that was going into Iowa at the same time.

When you got to Iowa, it was everything you had wanted it to be. Iowa was beautiful. Getting to campus and getting to know the team had been great. Even your classes were going well. You were all around adjusting well to college.

It's during preseason training when you and Caitlin began to really connect. The two of you shared in being the only new freshman on the team. Your friendship really began to take off when you told her you weren't going home for Thanksgiving and she invited you home with her. It was the first time you met her family and they absolutely adored you.

Coming back from that break, you and Caitlin became inseparable. Anytime the two of you were on campus, you would be together. It got to the point where the team knew you were a two-for-one deal.

Your friendship off the court translated seamlessly on the court. The two of you had made some noise in the media as you shortly became a freshman powerhouse for Iowa consistently putting up a combined 40+ points per game. The chemistry you played with on the court was unmatched by anything that had been seen before so fast.

It is the end of your freshman year when your friendship with Caitlin begins to become more than a friendship.

The feelings that Caitlin begins to feel are all new to her. She hesitates when it comes to talking to you about it as the feelings she is feeling are for you. It is Kate Martin who actually encourages Caitlin to talk to you - this is after you had told Kate you were starting to feel something for your best friend too.

"Hey, can we talk?" Caitlin asks as she is helping you pack up to head home for the summer.

"Of course," you say as you are looking for any other items on your desk to stick in a box. Well less helping and more so keeping you company.

Caitlin is sitting on your bed, hands fidgeting. When she doesn't speak you stop what you're doing and look at her. She looks concerned.

"Caitlin, you're scaring me," you say with a little laugh as you come and stand at the end of your bed. Caitlin refuses to make eye contact with you.

You move to where she is, trying to get her to look at you. Your mind is racing at all the possibilities that could have Caitlin in such a distressed state.

"Is it your family?" You ask knowing how much they mean to her.

She shakes her head no, her eyes still locked on her hands as she rubs her fingertips.

"Cait, talk to me, please." You say as you are now standing right next to her. She only looks at you when you grab her hands to stop her fiddling. You have learned that her fiddling was one of her nervous ticks.

Before you have time to process, Caitlin's lips are on yours.

You had been imagining this for a little while now but never imagined it to actually come true. Your hands find their way to her hips as her hands find their way to your face. The kiss is hungry and filled with curiosity, longing, and need. Before things could go any further you slow the kiss down and begin to push Caitlin's hips away from yours.

You are standing in between Caitlin's legs and look down at the space you have created between the two of you. Both of you breathing heavily and processing what just happened.

"Why'd you do that?" You ask - your eyes now closed.

Caitlin's heart sinks when she hears your question. She is at a loss for words thinking she just messed up your whole friendship.

You bring your forehead up to hers, knowing how much she can get into her head - but now showing how much you get into her head.

"Why'd you do that, huh? Something I have been thinking about for weeks now," you say with a sigh. "Something I am going to want to do every day both of us are here on this earth. Something that only makes me want you even more." You say separating yourself from her - looking in her eyes for the first time.

Caitlin blushes, breaking the eye contact almost as fast as you initialed.

Your hand comes up to cup her cheek, bring her gaze back up to yours.

"I like you," Caitlin says. You expect her to continue but she does not.

You laugh.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" You ask. She shrugs shyly.

"Well, if it is not obvious, I like you too." You say and the blush in Caitlin's cheeks deepens.

The timing of it wasn't the best as you were heading back home for the summer and Caitlin was doing the same. The two of you talked and Facetimed every day of that summer. Before heading into the next school year - Caitlin asked to keep your relationship quiet and between the two of you. Your love for the girl overpowering your desire to love her openly and you respected her decision. You know it is for the best but still wish you could show her off as yours and not just your best friend.

There are a few people who know - Kate being one of them. But aside from her and one other teammate, your relationship stays hidden.

Even though it remained within the confines of you and Caitlin - it never stopped growing. It was soon something that became hard to hide as others started noticing your dynamics.

Whenever it was just the two of you, nothing in the world mattered. The two of you spent most of your time in your apartment where Caitlin would never leave your side. She would always need to have part of her body touching yours. That could be holding hands or touching thighs, she just liked being near you. Whenever she would spend the night, she would curl up at your side and spend the whole night in your arms.

The two of you would talk about everything and nothing and all that is in between. You would spend as much time as you could listening to her talk about the things that she loves. Granted most of it was basketball-related and the two of you would talk endlessly on the subject but she would also talk about her family and how she grew up. She captured your attention so easily and vice versa.

There was a deeper understanding between the two of you than either of you could have imagined. The two of you understood each other without words - that made the two of you unstoppable on the court but even more than that it was a testament of your love.

You wholeheartedly believed that Caitlin would be it for you.

THE MIDDLE.

It was nearing the end of your senior year at Iowa and what would be the close to your basketball playing days. It was something you were content with and actually had a job lined up to be one of the assistant coaches for UCLA's women's basketball program.

Caitlin declared for the draft and was set to be the first overall pick. You couldn't be more proud of your girl. It was pretty much set that she would be going to Indiana, which meant that you two would be doing long-distance. The two of you talked and it seemed like everything was going to work out.

Everything shifted when Iowa lost to South Carolina in the final. It was a tough loss that you thought you could have won. They just outplayed you and came out on top which was a bummer but you couldn't be too mad about it.

After the final, the team decided to head their separate ways for the night. You made your way to Caitlin's hotel room.

She hadn't said much since leaving the arena. When the two of you get back you collapse on the bed you let out a deep sigh. It is only after a few moments of you laying there and not feeling her weight hit the bed beside you that you turn your head to look for her.

Caitlin is standing, eyes heavy from the loss, looking down at you.

"Lay down love, I know you're exhausted," you say and pat the spot next to you.

When she doesn't move, you reach to grab her hand but she moves it away. You give her a questioning look.

"I can't do this," she says, fingers beginning to fiddle.

Your heart rate skyrockets.

"Caitlin, what are you talking about?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

She refuses to make eye contact with you as she finds the right words to say. This has been a thought on her mind for the past few weeks and has been an internal battle.

"I can't do us anymore," she says just above a whisper.

You feel like you had just been hit by a car and that is after feeling like you got hit by a bus from the game.

You immediately stand and try to bring her eyes to yours. Everything was going great between the two of you - you both had already talked about how it would work doing long-distance and even had trips planned to see one another.

"I don't understand," you say, hands coming up to hold your head. The room is spinning and you feel like you want to cry, laugh, pass out, and throw up all at the same time.

You two had been together for the past 3 years, weathering countless storms together and growing with one another. The one thing that stayed the same in all of that was keeping your relationship between a select group of people and never known to the public.

"Caitlin," you say, and your voice cracks.

"Please don't say my name," she says and her eyes close.

You are stunned.

"So that's it? We're done?" You ask in disbelief. Cait is preparing for you to blow up, to yell at her and question her but none of that comes.

You, on the other hand, are waiting for an explanation that never comes.

Her eyes stay closed and you stand there for what feels like ages waiting for any sort of explanation. When you realize there isn't one coming, you fall in defeat.

You reach around your neck and remove the necklace that she got you for your two-year anniversary and place it on the dresser.

"I have done nothing but love you," you say. It was directed to her but you were saying it more to yourself.

When you walk out the door, you both allow yourselves to feel. Caitlin finally opens her eyes and you let your tears fall.

There was absolutely no closure. No understanding of what had happened to get to this point. You have every desire to barge back into the room and fight for her but what was the point in fighting when she couldn't even give you a solid answer.

Never in a million years would you imagine a life without her.

THE END. 3 YEARS LATER.

Never in a million years would Caitlin imagine being here. Maybe she did, just not in these circumstances. She sat next to her brother and his wife waiting for the ceremony to start. Some of her old college teammates were in the row in front of her.

Her hands have not stopped fidgeting since she arrived and can't see them stopping anytime soon.

Everyone is asked to take their seats as your mom is escorted down and takes her seat.

One by one - bridesmaids make their way down the aisle. Caitlin smiles when she sees Kate walk down. People then begin to stand and turn to watch.

Your fiance is the first to walk down the aisle. She is escorted by her father and is beaming. Caitlin hears groups of ooo's and ahh's as she makes her way to the front and turns and waits for you.

You are the last to make your way down the aisle.

Caitlin gets a glimpse of you and her breath is taken away. You are stunning. Your smile is bright enough to light the entire city. She watches as you make your way towards your future.

She sits when everyone else does - eyes still glued to you.

Caitlin feels the air leaving her lungs as the ceremony commences. There was once a day when she saw this with you when the two of you talked about what your wedding day would look like and how you would want everything laid out. She looks around and sees you in all the little details.

After the ceremony, everyone heads to the reception. Caitlin not knowing how long she plans on staying considering how much of a toll this is taking on her.

It is good to see old teammates and catch up on life. She spends a lot of time talking with Kate until she is pulled away. Colin and his wife are on the dance floor which is not inviting to Caitlin at all.

It is soon after everyone starts dancing that Caitlin makes her way outside. The cool air of the night numbed her face. Her mind can't help but wander back to when the two of you were together and how everything made sense. Caitlin was blind to how much she needed you when she had you and was led by fear. Fear of what the world would say if they ever found out she loved girls. And instead of talking through it with anyone close to her - she ran. Ran from the one person she has ever truly loved.

She doesn't feel the first tear fall from her face nor does she feel the next one. She lets out a shakey breath.

"I'm glad you came," your voice brings her back to reality. Your eyes meet hers for the first time in years. "I didn't know if you would come or if I actually wanted you here."

Caitlin just takes the sight of you in. The last memory she had with you was when she called it quits and you walked out. She has replayed that night in her probably a million times and if she had asked you, you would have said the same.

"I have imagined this day countless times in my head - and for a long while, I thought you would play a very different role than the one you are in. It's funny how life changes."

"I was mad at you for the greater part of 2 years until Soph pulled me out of it. Never actually getting an answer on why that night ended the way it did. She has had to do a lot of damage control thanks to you," you say with a little laugh.

Caitlin looks away from you as her tears continue to fall.

Your hand comes up to her elbow.

"Caitlin, you know I will always care for you. Thank you for being here, it really does mean a lot," you say and bring one of your hands to wipe away her falling tears. "Even though in the end it wasn't us, your friendship was vital during that time in my life."

Your name is called by someone inside. You give her arm one last squeeze and make your way inside.

Caitlin looks back out into the darkness, even more broken than she was on the night she let you go. Letting you go was the single biggest mistake of her life. One that she has regretted ever since. One that she hoped to one day rectify.

A mistake that she can no longer take back and is one she will have to live with for the rest of her life.

AN: Just a little for you, let me know what you think. And as always, thank your for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist

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justwinginglife · 2 months

Note

Omg! Hii!

Anyways, I would love for you to write something like, maybe y/n is petty, because soshiro and y/n were both battling it out for the vice captain job? Soshiro Thinks Y/n hates his guts because shes always roasting him. Oneday, he stumbles opon her diary, and finds out shes actually a die-hard simp

OH MAYBE SHE SAYS SOMETHING LIKE "I love it when he bosses me around' EHEHE

Anyways love your fics!! <3

@soshirohoshinasimp Yay it's you again! Hello dear, so happy you love my fics! Appreciate you so much. I hope you continue writing as well! Also, thank you so much for this prompt, I had so much fun writing it, it's definitely one of my favs.

Follow Me

You and Hoshina butt heads so frequently it was a wonder your heads weren't permanently mashed together at this point.

It started when you both met during the Defense Force Exam- he had already taken down a third of the kaiju in the arena and he had the nerve to snatch one of your kills from you, the attention-seeking bastard. You had your gun aimed and ready, finger curled around the trigger, about to shoot, and he swooped in and sliced the kaiju to bits. In response, you chased him all over the training grounds, sniping every beast he went after before he could even react. And that was how he found out that there was actually someone who could keep up with his speed. Yeah, he was annoyed as shit, which pleased you immensely.

Then, when you were both rookie officers in the same division, you'd constantly be competing over combat power. He'd increase his stamina through vigorous training, bragging to you that he was at 40% and then you'd shoot back that he was still too damn slow because you were at 45%. Then he'd learn a new sword style technique and hit 50% with a smug look on his stupid face and you'd rush to keep up, vowing to him you'd make him choke on your dust one day when you left him behind. Sometimes you'd swear that just the act of pissing you off upped his combat power because it gave him the biggest rush. Some days, you weren't even sure if he cared about the numbers anymore, he just liked to push your buttons. Well you always pushed right back.

You accidentally glimpsed some old pics of Hoshina when he was a kid and you realized he'd had the same haircut his entire life so he must have one hell of a consistent barber. And that barber had to have hella dirt on him, having known him his whole life. So, of course, you tracked down his barber (like any sane person would do, right?) and coaxed him into telling you stories about Hoshina when he was little.

The next day, the base was abuzz with gossip about the time that Hoshina almost drowned at the hair salon because he tried to scoot further up in his chair while his barber was still shampooing him and he hit his head on the faucet, choking down the water in the process, and Hoshina just knew you had something to do with it. After all, how could it have not been you? You had the most satisfied, most devilish look on your face all day, though you never admitted it was you who spread the rumors.

After that day, it seemed nothing was off limits anymore. Hoshina spread hideous pictures of you with braces on when you were a teenager all throughout campus (to this day, you were still unsure how on earth he found them, you thought you'd destroyed all trace of the evidence) and as payback, you hid erectile dysfunction medications in his bag and then slit a hole in the bottom of it so when he spilled the contents of his bag in the locker room the next day in front of all the other officers and then denied it vehemently the other officers just took his denial as further confirmation of his... issue.

But as nasty as both of your pranks seemed, some of them were actually quite amusing, even endearing. You'd had a bad day at work one day and to cheer you up (you think), Hoshina set a litter of puppies loose in your bedroom. You did have a shit ton (pun intended) of shit to clean up after that, but it didn't matter, you'd already cheered up when you saw their adorable wagging tails and big round eyes. So, to repay him, you filled every square inch of his room with bottles of his favorite coffee. He couldn't sleep on his own bed for weeks, but at least he had a long lasting supply of wake-up juice.

And the two of you got to know each other extremely well through all this competing and bickering. He'd figured out what time you liked to go to your favorite bakery and he'd buy out their entire stock of your favorite pastry before you got there. It took you awhile to figure out how they were always cleaned out of only your favorite snack everyday, but then one day you got injured in a fight and you found him leaving a chocolate croissant by your hospital bed when you woke up.

It seemed like things were taking a different turn than you'd thought, and maybe the two of you could actually be friends for once, instead of rivals.

But then you both got the same letter saying that one of you would be the new Vice Captain of the Third Division and it all depended on your performance going forward.

"Only 70% combat power, huh? Not very 'Vice Captain' of you. Maybe I'll have less competition than I thought." You'd smugly say to him in passing.

He'd roll his eyes and say, "Oh yeah? And how's that training of yours going by the way? Cuz I could've sworn I beat you by nearly half a mile in that last marathon, getting slow in your old age?"

You were the same damn age as him. Fucker.

But even though the two of you would tease each other like you always did, you could tell that this time things were different. There were actual stakes on the line and one of your futures would be greatly impacted by this. You were both so young, it would be an impressive feat to be Vice Captain at this age. Both of you wanted that badge of honor to parade around.

Eventually, you were neck and neck. Both about 90% each. For the first time you were evenly matched. It was anyone's call who'd be the next Vice Captain.

It even crossed your mind that neither of you would ever be Vice Captain and the two of you would just be locked in a life long battle to be better than the other. But one day, something changed your mind and changed the course of both of your futures.

You saw him training someone in secret, someone who had absolutely no chance of being in the Defense Force and honestly had no business being in the Defense Force with how weak he was. But Hoshina saw his potential and he spent his free time nurturing that potential. That made you think about all the other little things Hoshina would do like this.

If someone was down about their skill level, he'd always point out something that was so obviously impressive about them and his simple logic would always win them over, cheering them up. Because how could he be wrong if it actually made sense? He'd say it like it was a simple statement, like he was just reciting a fact, but you knew he'd put thought into trying to comfort them.

If a kaiju was particularly difficult to defeat, Hoshina would look at all the angles, strategizing different ways to bring them down, ways that normal people wouldn't even consider. Even if it was crazy, if it was possible, if it would save more people, he'd do it with no hesitation.

He was fearless and strong, but he was also selfless and kind. And you'd started to adore that about him.

So you wrote a letter to the Captain of the Third Division withdrawing your desire to be Vice Captain, saying you'd follow wherever Hoshina led.

It was your little secret. Until it wasn't.

You swore you saw Hoshina coming out of your room one day, but when you didn't find it filled to the brim with anything, didn't see any trace of his usual pranks, you thought you might have imagined things.

But then when he ignored you for an entire week, not even bothering to tease you or respond to your teasing, you knew something was very wrong. You even started to miss him annoying you, and that realization deepened the pit in your stomach even further.

Then he showed up at your door.

"Can I... can I come in?"

You stared at him for a moment. "Um... sure?" You stepped aside awkwardly, unsure what was about to happen, but you missed him so much you'd let it happen anyway.

He paced in front of your desk for a moment and then he finally said, "I got the Vice Captain position."

You smiled. "Congrats. I'm happy for you."

He groaned at that. "Don't. Don't do that, don't say that. I only got the position because of you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he could be talking about. Surely he didn't know about your letter... right? "What do you mean? You got the position because you deserved it." Your words were still true, you did feel he was the best person for the job.

"Yeah but you wrote that damn letter. At first I was so pissed at you, and then I was so pissed off at myself for feeling like I couldn't have gotten the spot without you."

You gulped. Well shit. Cat's out of the fucking bag now.

"Hoshina-"

"No, I'm not done yet. Let me finish."

You let him continue but you sank into the couch, feeling like the shock of having this conversation was too much to handle standing.

"I read your diary. I felt like we'd been so stressed lately competing for Vice Captain, I thought a lighthearted joke would bring us back to where we were before, so I wanted to see what I could do to get you to smile again. So I flipped through your diary, and yes, I know where you hide it, don't even give me that look- you're not very good at hiding things and you know I know you too well for this."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. The familiar sound eased your nerves a little. Just a little. You still held your breath as he continued, wondering just how much he read.

"I was shocked by the way, here I was thinking you hated me and I come to find out that you think it's cute when I boss you around and you actually like being around me." He teased, nudging you playfully.

You flushed at that but remained silent.

"But then I read that you'd sent in the letter withdrawing from the running. I was so furious I couldn't even read the rest. So I sulked for a week. But now I'm here. And I want to know why. I know you well enough to know this can't be a joke. You'd never throw away something so important for the sake of a prank, so tell me why. Why'd you do it?" His eyes were desperate and pleading and you knew you couldn't lie to him.

You cleared your throat, meeting his gaze even though every part of you wanted to look away. "I meant what I said. You deserve the position, more than me even. I'm strong, but I don't inspire people the way you do. I'm fast, but I don't rally people the way you do. And I care about people, but you love people. You were meant to do great things and I guess I just realized I wanted to watch you do them. I'll follow wherever you go, Soshiro."

It was his turn to flush now, realizing that this was the first time you'd ever called him by his first name, and with such sincerity no less. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to compose the right words to say. He finally settled on mumbling, "You always were a pain in the ass, you know that?"

You laughed at that, a real genuine laugh and it made him smile. "I could say the same for you. But you know... I can't seem to live without you being a thorn in my side anymore. Is that so strange?"

He shook his head quickly. "I feel the same. It's like I need you near me or I can't go on with my life."

You both go silent as the weight of this realization hits you hard.

"Follow me. Be by my side. Wherever I go, I want you there with me," He said finally, quoting your earlier words. He held a hand out to you and you took it, squeezing it tight and then pressing a kiss to it.

He's shocked but then he says with a smirk, "I think you missed." He points to his lips.

"Yeah, no, you're going to have to buy me dinner first." You tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He grins widely and you take in the sweet sight.

"I can do that. I'll buy you a million dinners if that's what it takes."

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #anime #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #fluff

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tsumtsumrry · 1 year

Text

Favorite Holiday

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

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

WC: 12k.

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

March 20th, First day of Spring.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

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

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

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

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

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

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

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me. Take me home, H.”

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you want. Kiss?”

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

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

“Harry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna be my sous chef?”

April 1st, April fools.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

April 9th, Easter.

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry I―”

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

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you soon, petal.”

May 31st, Memorial Day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dangerous.

October 31st, Halloween.

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

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

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

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

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

Ever the flirt, he is.

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

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

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

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

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

Right…fifteen minutes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November 23, Thanksgiving.

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

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

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

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

Uh oh. You know that expression.

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your smile drops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you to meet—”

You can’t do it.

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

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

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

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

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

December 24, Christmas Eve.

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

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

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

Harry.

Over and over again.

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

Harry 11/28/23

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

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me.

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please?

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me.

Harry 12/7/23

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

Harry 12/14/23

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

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

Harry 12/22/23

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

Harry 12/24/23

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck.

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

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

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

“Wha―”

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters.

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I know H.” you nod again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do me a favor, honey?”

You nod eagerly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did such a good job.”

“M’so proud of you.”

“You come so pretty.”

“So beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Meant what?”

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

December 31st, New Years Eve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles fics #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles fwb

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months

Note

This might be rather vague, but could I request a Bucky fic based around the sentence “please don’t make me lie to you”?

The Truth » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and Sam Wilson/Falcon

Summary: Bucky tells you the truth about who he really is.

Warnings: mix of Fluff and Angst, language, crying, kissing, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I imagined this took place during Captain America: Civil War.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

“Can one of you explain what the hell just happened?” You say, looking at Steve and Sam.

Steve and Sam looked at each other before looking back at you. Steve desperately wanted to tell you, but it’s not his place to say. You kept looking at them, waiting for one of them to say something. Your attention was quickly turned to Bucky when he groaned as he started to wake up.

“Bucky, baby.” You immediately went over to him and hugged him.

“Doll…” Bucky wrapped his right arm around your wand held you against him. “Steve…” He looks up at Steve.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks.

“Your mom’s name is Sarah and you used to wear newspaper in your shoes.” Bucky says.

“Can’t read that in a museum.” Steve says.

“Like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam says.

“What did I do?” Bucky asks, looking at Sam.

“You didn’t do anything, baby.” You say, caressing his stubbly cheek.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Steve spoke up.

“Buck, does she know?” Steve asks him.

“Know what?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “What’s he talking about, babe?” You asked, looking at Bucky.

Bucky looked down, feeling ashamed that he never told you the truth about who he really is.

“You never told your girl?” Sam says.

“Sam…” Steve warns. “We’ll give you two some time alone.” He says, walking away with Sam following behind him.

You and Bucky were left in silence. Bucky couldn’t look you in the eye. He was nervous to tell you the truth and he hoped that he didn’t have to tell you, but here you guys are. Bucky kept this from you for a reason and that’s to protect you and cause he loves you so much.

“Bucky, what were your friends talking about?” You asked.

Bucky was quiet for a moment longer before he looked at you.

“Please don’t make me lie to you.” He says, his voice cracking.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” You say.

Bucky took a deep breath before saying anything.

“I’m the Winter Soldier.” He flat out said.

“Who or what is the Winter Soldier?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“Me.” He repeats. “These people called HYDRA found me the Alps in the 40s, gave me a metal arm, and trained me to become an assassin for them.” He explains.

You took a step back, trying to process what Bucky just said.

“Babydoll, say something.” He says, his eyes tearing up.

“All this time, I thought you were someone who showed up on my doorstep injured for almost a year ago when you possibly could’ve killed me.” You say.

“No!” He quickly said. “I would never hurt you. I would never forget myself if I did hurt you. You have to believe me.” He says.

You faced away from him and walked away from him. Bucky managed to get his metal arm free and follow you. He gently grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shout, yanking your arm out of his grip.

Bucky took a step back, not wanting to make you more mad than you already are.

“You really think I would hurt you?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Bucky.” Your eyes teared up. “We’ve been dating for almost a year and you’re just now telling me the truth about who you really are.” You say.

Tears rolled down your cheeks. You didn’t want to cry and look weak in front of Bucky, but you couldn’t help it. It’s like a dam broke loose. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him as you cried in his arms, your tears soaking his henley.

“I love you more than anything, doll. Please know that.” Bucky says in a whisper.

“I know.” You sniffled, looking up at him. “I love you too.” You say, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.

Bucky’s right hand caressed your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing against your skin. He leaned down and kissed you passionately. Your lips moved in sync with his.

“Please don’t leave me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says, pulling away from your lips.

“I’m not.” You whispered. “I love you too much to leave you.” You kissed his lips. “Don’t ever keep the truth from me again.” You say.

“I won’t. I promise.” He says against your lips.

Steve and Sam walked in the room at the wrong time.

“Sorry to break up your moment, but if we’re going to do this, we need a plan.” Steve says.

“I know a guy.” Sam says, looking at Steve.

“Count me in.” You say.

From then on out, Bucky told you the truth about everything. No matter how bad his past was, he still told you. He loves you too much to lose you.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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reasonsforhope · 4 months

Text

"It was widely described as the week that India’s beleaguered democracy was pulled back from the brink. As the election results rolled in on Tuesday [June 4, 2024], all predictions and polls were defied as Narendra Modi lost his outright majority for the first time in a decade while the opposition re-emerged as a legitimate political force. On Sunday evening, Modi will be sworn in as prime minister yet many believe his power and mandate stands diminished.

For one opposition politician in particular, the humbling of the strongman prime minister was a moment to savour. Late last year, Mahua Moitra, one of the most outspoken critics of Modi and his Bharatiya Janata party (BJP), found herself unceremoniously expelled from parliament and kicked out of her bungalow, after what she described as a “political witch-hunt” for daring to stand up to Modi.

The murky and allegedly undemocratic circumstances of Moitra’s expulsion from parliament was seen by many to symbolise Modi’s approach to dissenting voices and the steady erosion of India’s democracy. She was among several vocal opposition politicians who were subjected to investigations by government crime agencies.

But having won a landslide re-election in her home state of West Bengal, Moitra will return once again to parliament, part of the newly empowered opposition coalition. “I can’t wait,” said Moitra. “They went to egregious lengths to discredit and destroy me and abused every process to do it. If I had gone down, it would have meant that brute force had triumphed over democracy.”

While he may be returning for a historic third term, many have portrayed the results as something of a defeat for Modi, who has had to rely on coalition partners to form a government. The BJP’s campaign had been solely centred around him – even the manifesto was titled “Modi’s guarantee” – and in many constituencies, local BJP candidates often played second fiddle to the prime minister, who loomed large over almost every seat. He told one interviewer he believed his mandate to rule was given directly by God.

“Modi’s aura was invincibility, that the BJP could not win elections without him,” said Moitra. “But the people of India didn’t give him a simple majority. They were voting against authoritarianism and they were voting against fascism. This was an overwhelming, resounding anti-Modi vote.”

During his past decade in power, Modi and the BJP enjoyed a powerful outright majority and oversaw an unprecedented concentration of power under the prime minister’s office, where key decisions were widely known to be made by a select few.

The Modi government was accused of imposing various authoritarian measures, including the harassment and arrest of critics under terrorism laws, while the country tumbled in global democracy and press freedom rankings. Modi never faced a press conference or any committee of accountability for the often divisive actions of his government. Politicians regularly complained that parliament was simply reduced to a rubber-stamping role for the BJP’s Hindu-first agenda.

Yet on Tuesday [June 40, it became clear that the more than 25 opposition parties, united as a coalition under the acronym INDIA, had inflicted substantial losses on the BJP to take away its simple majority. Analysts said the opposition’s performance was all the more remarkable given that the BJP stands accused of subverting and manipulating the election commission, as well as putting key opposition leaders behind bars and far outspending all other parties on its campaign. The BJP has denied any attempts to skew the election in its favour.

“This election proved that the voter is still the ultimate king,” said Moitra. “Modi was so shameless, yet despite them using every tool they had to engineer this election to their advantage, our democracy fought back.”

Moitra said she was confident it was “the end of Mr Modi’s autocratic way of ruling”. Several of the parties in the BJP’s alliance who he is relying on for a parliamentary majority and who will sit in Modi’s cabinet do not share his Hindu nationalist ideology...

Moitra was not alone in describing this week’s election as a reprieve for the troubling trajectory of India’s democracy. Columns heralding that the “mirror has cracked” and the “idea of India is reborn” were plastered across the country’s biggest newspapers, and editorials spoke of the end of “supremo syndrome”. “The bulldozer now has brakes,” wrote the Deccan Chronicle newspaper. “And once a bulldozer has brakes, it becomes just a lawnmower.” ...

“This was not a normal election, it was clearly an unfair and unlevel playing field,” said Yadav. “But still, there is now a hope and a possibility that the authoritarian element could be reversed.”

Harsh Mander, one of India’s most prominent human rights and peace activists who is facing numerous criminal investigations for his work, called the election the “most important in India’s post independence history”, adding: “The resilience of Indian democracy has proved to be spectacular.”

He said it was encouraging that an “intoxication of majoritarian hate politics” had not ultimately shaped the outcome, referring to Modi’s apparent attempts to stir up religious animosity on the campaign trail as he referred to Muslims as “infiltrators” and “those who have more children”.

“The past decade has seen the freedom of religion and the freedom of conscience and dissent taken away,” said Mander. “If this election had gone fully the BJP way, then India would not remain a constitutional secular democracy.”"

-via The Guardian, June 9, 2024

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amirasainz · 5 months

Note

hi!! i love this series sm and can u please write baby!sainz crushing on lando and carlos noticed it ++ lando and baby!sainz cute moments. thank you! have a good day 🫶🏻

Hey loves. I'm always so happy when I receive new requests. My requests are open and feedback is always welcome. Enjoy reading! -XoXo

Three times when...

The cooking fiasco

It was common knowledge in the Sainz household that Amira Sainz did not like cooking. In fact, it was a task she despised. When the Sainz children were younger, the chores were so divided that Amira never had to cook. She would go shopping for the ingredients or clean up the kitchen afterward. But she never lifted one pretty, manicured finger to prepare a meal.

So one could understand the shock when Carlos came down to the kitchen this morning and saw his baby sister cooking. And not just something easy like instant noodles—Senorita Sainz had prepared Croquetas de Jamón, a dish that required time and patience. Two things his little sister usually did not have.

However, Carlos had to admit they smelled amazing. When he tried to take a piece, his sister slapped his hand away. “Amira, what—” “Carlitos, they are not for hermano. It took me hours to prepare them, and I will not let you eat them all just because you’re hungry,” she informed her brother with a playful smile. “Come on, hermanita. Just one tiny piece. They look delicious.” She shook her head again, packed the Croquetas away, and told her brother they needed to leave.

The Sainz siblings, armed with their bags and a little plastic box filled with those delectable Croquetas de Jamón, entered the paddock. But it was Amira’s bold move that stole the show—skipping over to Lando and presenting him with her carefully prepared culinary masterpiece. Carlos, caught off guard, stood in the middle of the entrance, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

And then came Lando’s reaction: “Darling, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Amira blushed, and Carlos was left utterly dumbfounded.

Little did he know that his bewildered expression would soon become an internet sensation—a meme capturing the moment when Carlos’s brain seemingly took a vacation for a solid 40 minutes.

2. The hat

Oh, how he hated this hat. This stupid childish hat, that Lando wore for his first home GP. Carlos’s disdain for that neon green/yellow-ish hat was legendary, and it seemed to be etched into his very soul. But when he saw his sister, Amira, wearing the same hat, panic set in. His protective instincts kicked into high gear, and he bombarded her with questions: “Amira, what happened? Were you forced to wear this? Did Lando force you? Do you owe him money? Mi preciada hermana, you know I’ll lend you all the money I have. I will—”

And then, Amira’s interruption: “Don’t you think I look pretty?” Carlos was left speechless. Of course, she looked beautiful, but why this… thing on her head? Amira explained that it was Lando’s hat—the very same one he wore during his first home Grand Prix. She wanted to show her support for him, even though her loyalty to Carlos was unwavering.

Carlos grappled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, his sister’s gesture was sweet, even if the hat was an eyesore. On the other hand, why did it have to be that hat? His sister looked always lovely, but this neon monstrosity…

Before he could articulate his thoughts, Lando himself appeared. “Looking good, Mira,” he praised, and Amira blushed. Then, Lando turned to Carlos. “Hey, you good, man?”

And there it was—the unspoken tension between past teammates, siblings, and that ridiculous hat. Carlos managed a half-hearted nod. “Yeah, just… processing,” he mumbled. But deep down, he wondered if this whole situation would become another meme—one where Carlos stared into space, contemplating the mysteries of life, love, and questionable headwear.

3.The cut

It was racing weekend after a two week break. Carlos couldn’t help but tease Lando about that minuscule cut—the one that had everyone talking after his wild party weekend in the Netherlands.

“Cabrón, how did you even manage to cut yourself open? I mean, you were on a boat. A boat, Lando.” The banter flowed between them like old times, and Carlos secretly acknowledged that while Charles felt like a little brother, Lando was his true confidant. Amidst the tough competition at Ferrari, Lando was the one who knew all his inner struggles and insecurities—the person he could share everything with. Lando, who knew that Carlos didn't have any offers from other teams. Lando, who knew that the offer from Audi was taken back. He just couldn't tell Charles those things. Not because he couldn't trust him as well. But he always felt the need to protect the young Monegasque and didn't want to make him feel worse about his leave.

But then, the unexpected happened. Carlos’s attention shifted from Lando’s escapades to a quick blur of pink. The exact shade his sister had worn just days ago. And there they were: Amira and Lando, arms around each other. Concern etched on her face, she asked Lando if he was feeling alright, if she could do anything for him. His response—teasing yet sincere—sent a shiver down Carlos’s spine. Those stars in Lando’s eyes, the whispered words in Spanish from her: “Oh Lando, estoy tan feliz de que estés bien”, Lando rubbing her back for comfort.

Those two friends, caught in a moment that felt both intimate and confusing. Carlos’s mind raced. Did his sister have a crush on Lando? It couldn’t be, right?

Or could it?

#baby!sainz!sister #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x sister!reader

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balkanradfem · 7 months

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So I've had some thoughts and I don't actually believe that males aren't attracted to women over 25, they absolutely can't even tell a 40yo from a 25yo woman, they made it clear they're only attracted to visual features and they don't even know what age they're looking at. But they are still absolutely obsessed with youth and repeatedly attempt to mingle with female teenagers and try to find a partner who is in the age brackets from 14-21. I do believe a lot of these males are pedophiles, or have converted themselves into pedophiles, but also the end goal of pedophiles and other males is the same: to find a girl/woman with no background knowledge or previous experience.

Even if a 18 year old woman looks exactly like a 25 year old woman, they'll go for the 18 year old, not because she's more attractive or 'fertile', it's simply because they can have that much more power and influence over her. They can tell her anything about life and she wouldn't know the difference, wouldn't know she's being lied to. She hasn't yet had the experience of tolerating male nonsense to the point of breaking, hasn't seen trough their schemes and grooming process, she doesn't know their true intentions, she doesn't have her finances/career/living situation in order, she is more vulnerable, more naive, more easy to exploit. She's still filled with hope and optimism, inclined to believe the best of them, to give them benefit of the doubt, to forgive and tolerate and do whatever she's told to, in order to gain their approval.

25 year old woman will not do this so easily, she's probably had enough experience with the world and the m*n to see the red flags instantly. The 40 year old woman, who looks exactly as attractive, will not even spare him the second glance, he's nothing to her, she knows his value is null.

I don't think it's youth, appearance, or any other kind of 'biological impulse' that makes m*n go after younger women, it's just the amount of power they're able to have over younger women. The idea of a woman who knows who they are and what they stand for is intensely non-attractive to them, a woman who understands their core and knows their intentions, that is a complete no-go, they'd rather throw insults at her and make sure she can't communicate her knowledge to the younger generations.

But a younger woman who is still under the effects of patriarchal grooming, who is easy to convince, manipulate, trick, cheat, who is without any defenses, naive, gullible, that's where their attraction is amplified. If the situation suddenly switched and all of the younger women had the exact experience and power of mature women, while mature women were under some kind of amnesia and thought m*n were cool, and were willing to do whatever for them, the attraction would flip just like that. M*n really can't do well anywhere except among children who are fawning over them, not knowing what they're looking at.

Being young and without experience makes a woman so much less likely to be able to defend herself against abuse, so much more easily pulled into doing things against her own benefit, much more easily obliged with a promise of a fake future that will never happen. And they all know they're pulling those young women into relationships/partnerships under fake pretenses, that they're just going to use these young women, until they age up to the point where they're sick of his bullshit, and then find new, younger, more inexperienced, more easy to manipulate girls.

What I'm saying is that their attraction grows only with girls and women's inability to truly consent to what they're going to do to her. If those young women knew where the situation was going, they would never say yes to it, and m*n all know it.

#consent #radical feminism #feminism #cult of female youth #males lying about being attracted to younger women #they're attracted to lack of defenses #and lack of consent

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samkerrworshipper · 1 year

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heyyy guys

had heaps of reqs for some daddy lucy smut and i haven’t been able to finish any of it lol so i thought i’d give you all a little blurb/sneak peek so enjoy! if y’all like this i’d be willing to finish it just lmk !

spanking & implied smut warning minors dni

daddy?… sorry

lucy bronze x reader

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“Can you remind me how we have found ourselves in this position?”

You decided to punish me? Were the words running through my head, but I didn’t have anywhere near enough nerve to vocalise those thoughts, not considering the position I was already in.

“I broke your rules.”

I flinched as another slap came down on my ass, 11, 12, 13, 14. I tried my best not to move, not to make any noise, knowing that it would only make things worse for me.

“Our rules, and what rule would that be?”

Her words were punctuated with another set of spanks, this time falling what felt like a centimetre below the previous one, 15, 16, 17. This time I let out a little bit of a cry, bucking slightly in my position, trying to find some kind of release from the pain that was being administered to me, Lucy’s arm held my hips steady though, her hold hard enough to tell me that my movement was not permitted.

“I put myself in danger on the field and I put someone else in danger.”

In my defence, I hadn’t really meant to slide tackle the girl so aggressively, I think I’d hurt myself more in the process then she had. We’d both been running full speed down the field and one second we were running and then the next I was throwing my feet out in front of her and we were colliding. Lucy slapped her palm down against my ass another three times, earning a groan from me and the feeling of tears prickling at the edges of my eyes.

“Hm, why?”

I took a deep breath as another set of spanks fell down across my ass. 18, 19, 20, 21, 22. I felt the tears start to leak down my face, dripping down and onto the carpet below me.

“I thought she was going to shoot for goal, I had to stop her.”

My words were followed up very quickly with another set of slaps that echoed across the walls of our bedroom, making a cacophonous noise rebounding back at us. I could hear the sound of Lucy’s hand connecting with my ass, and it hurt, it hurt like a bitch.

“So you made the choice to put both you and her in danger because she decided she was going to shoot for goal?”

23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28. I let out a sob as Lucy’s hand continued to slap down against my skin, the mixture of the burning sensation and stinging starting to get to me. She left just enough time between the spanks for me to feel the sting but not enough time that it started to mellow out.

“I didn’t think that it was going to be that bad.”

I knew my words would fall on deaf ears, she wouldn’t have been punishing me if she thought that I hadn’t intended to cause some harm in the process of my actions.

“A red card and the girl getting stretchered off is pretty bad if you ask me.”

The red card was probably the worst part, especially considering that we’d been down by a point when I’d been sent off the pitch, leaving us with ten players to scrap to get a goal.

“I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”

29, 30, 31, 32.

“What did you mean to do then? Because you can’t tell me that when you were flinging yourself at her knees and decking her that you didn’t understand the possibility of you or her getting injured. Explain to me what rule number 7 is?”

Tears and snot were basically free flowing down my face at this stage.

“To never put myself in a position where I could harm myself.”

Each word that left my mouth was punctuated by a slap. 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44.

“And how did you act today?”

45, 46, 47, 48.

Each slap drew a sob from my chest, loud sobs that I was completely unapologetic for producing. Lucy wasn’t holding back whatsoever, not that I expected her to, she never took it easy on me.

“In a way that could have harmed me.”

49, 50.

“Not just in a way that could harm you, but also in a way that could harm another person. You could have easily broken one of her legs or knees, or concussed her, the possibilities of what you could have done are endless. Maybe you didn’t mean to hurt her, but you still did. When this happens in the future we are going to find ourselves back here, is that understood?”

I nodded quickly, the tears and snot still dripping down my face without stopping.

“Y-yes, daddy.”

#woso #woso community #lionesses #lucy bronze #barca femeni #fc barca #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze is daddy

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whateverisbeautiful · 2 months

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#16: The Secret Rendezvous (1.02)

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Ok, this scene has got to be a Top 5 TOWL scene for me. I love everything about Richonne's secret rendezvous from the 🔥 walk-up at the beginning to the passionate embrace at the end 😍...

So first we see Michonne talking to some CRM leaders during a vetting process. And again TOWL stayed aware of Danai’s flawless face card with the close-up shot. Contrasting the start of the episode when she says her name is Michonne, here she’s following what Rick told her and changing her name to introduce the CRM and us to a B named Dana Bethune.

Michonne is in her acting bag as she shares, “My name is Dana. And I’ve been out there a long time by myself. So long that it’s strange to hear my own voice.” Michonne smartly mixes truths into her lies as she tells them “I was in Georgia for a long time with my boyfriend and about 40 people” She really was in Georgia with her boyfriend both from before the apocalypse and the boyfriend-turned-husband she found in season 3 😋.

Michonne says their group was led by leaders who she thought were good and says she was with her sister Elle, who was the HR lady from the caravan group at the top of the ep. Michonne says, “And then things changed. They changed. I saw it. I knew we should go. You always really know when to go.” Look at her passing Nat’s mentality down to the CRM. 😊 I was like CRM, y’all should be scared because a loyal person like Michonne is going to make sure Nat’s death is avenged. 💯

She’s asked about her weapon of choice and she says a Bo staff that she lost and is now making do with a knife. Playing up a certain aloofness Michonne looks at herself in the reflection of a window or two-way mirror idk. And you know while they’re observing her, sis is also observing everything about this place while trying to just appear more meek and even ditzy.

They ask if it bothers her that she’s being watched and it already shows how privy she is to things that she can tell she’s being surveilled. She softly says, “No I just haven’t seen myself in a while.”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

The CRM folk start telling Michonne about the place and how she can never leave and you can just see Michonne have a subtle reaction like 'Yeah alright we’ll see about that.' She knows that never-leave rule is about to get broken. Best believe.

They ask how she feels about the fact that she can’t leave and Michonne smiles and says, “I feel that what’s here, it’s what I’ve been looking for. It’s what I’ve been trying to believe in just a little while longer.” And not a lie was told right here. 💁🏽‍♀️

They have her baby up in this place so they absolutely do have what she’s been looking for. And I love her referencing the 'believe a little longer' motto from the iPhone and also how it again affirms that she believes in Rick so much just like in Rick's dreams. He’s what she’s been believing in.

This was a greatly acted scene from Danai playing Michonne playing Dana playing the CRM. �� Like I love that Michonne was sorta playing in the CRM's face a bit and it was just so clear the CRM does not stand a chance against this woman. She’s a mother on a mission. Nothing is stopping her. 👌🏽

So then we see Michonne walking around the CRM in a consignee jacket and I love that hers has a cinched waist. Michonne isn't letting that boxy jacket completely hide the Coca-Cola body. I’m here for it. 💅🏽

As Michonne walks around you can tell that, similar to Woodbury, she’s making note of quite a bit in this place - except this time she’s trying to blend in more like her husband told her. And the main thing Michonne clearly wants to know as she's walking around right now is - where is Rick Grimes.

She walks up some steps clearly trying to see where he could be, and even with all these CRM soldiers in helmets I know she’d be able to spot Rick if she saw him among them. And why? Because of that walk. 😏

But baby, she doesn’t have to spot him because of course the magnets in them have Rick spotting her first and making a beeline to her. I adore this walking moment. 🤩 I rewound it so much cuz I too love that man's walk lol.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

So Michonne is walking and then we see a soldier very intently making his way to her and I love the way it’s shot. Rick’s walk is iconic and so I love that that’s how you can immediately tell it’s him. And as we know, we’re not the only one who loves Rick’s walk because as he approaches Michonne and quietly takes her arm Michonne has this instant smitten smile upon recognizing his touch and walking alongside him. 😊

This scene made it clear that TOWL was gonna have a lot of fun with Richonne’s love and desire being at the foundation of the show. And you just know Rick was eagerly waiting for the moment he could get to her. He was a man on a mission. A mack-on-Michonne mission. 😌

And the moment as he takes her arm and silently guides her into a room is just hot, what can I say? 🔥

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love seeing Rick take control and seeing Michonne try to be subtle but clearly look so excited to be back with him. 😊

Also, now y’all when would a soldier…especially this soldier, grab a consignee by her arm and guide her into a room alone lol? That alone likely would've raised suspicions around the CRM. But I'm glad they did it anyway cuz it was a joy to see Rick and Michonne walk side by side again. CRM, y’all don’t even know you now have the most lethal married couple in your midst walking arm and arm rn. 🤭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick leads her into the room and gives one last look outside to make sure no one is headed their way. The way he looks around before going inside, you know he knows exactly what they're about to do.

So then we get a top-tier scene as Rick and Michonne walk into the garage?? Idk what that place was exactly so I’ll just call it a garage lol.

Rick and Michonne walk into the garage and give each other a quick look before checking to make sure the coast is clear. Rick checks one side and Michonne checks the other and then y’all, Rick has a very clear mission and it’s not swapping information it’s swapping saliva lol. I promise you, dishing out information and making a plan was secondary on the agenda for Rick during this secret rendezvous. 😋

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick proceeds to put his helmet down and before Michonne can even confirm that she doesn’t see anybody on her side, Rick grabs her and they basically pounce on each other with kisses and it’s the best. 😊They both are starving for each other and this kiss made it clear.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

You can tell the moment Rick put that helmet down he was laser-focused on loving on Michonne. He basically said I’ll brief you on this mysterious advanced society that’s kept me from you for years if we have time in between the main priority of making out.

I adore the way he grabs her neck and then the way Michonne is always ready to match the energy as she wraps her arms around him. And y’all, how nice of them to have a kiss that is as pleasing to the ear as it is to the eye because they, and Rick especially, stayed moaning in these TOWL kisses. Love to see it/hear it. 😋

I always say Richonne’s kisses are a form of communication and their first wordless conversation in the CRM - or 'moanversation' if you will - had them both making it very clear to each other that they’re ecstatic to be back together.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And after almost 8 years apart, the intensity of this kiss makes perfect sense, and I love that they knew exactly how to communicate how hungry Richonne are for each other in every way. This kiss is A1. 👏🏽

Like the way they lean against the vehicle and Rick puts his arm up against the vehicle to be mindful of Michonne adds such a cute caring layer to this whole top-tier moment. And the way they’re swaying and wrapped up in each other, her knees buckling, his hands in her hair, the way he chased her lips at the end. Just yes to all of it. 👏🏽

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

I love how the kiss is so immensely passionate and then afterward they just have this moment of holding each other and breathing together. Seeing the way Michonne smiles after and touches his face, you can seriously see how safe she feels with Rick. Like she still knows so little about this place but she’s back in his arms so she knows somehow it’ll be okay. 🥲

And then y’all, we get the first signature Richonne forehead touch in TOWL as they break from the kiss and still stay wrapped in each other's arms. It's one of the classic Richonne things they do and I love the intimacy of it. 🥹

gif cred: @lousolversons

That kiss clearly left them breathless as Rick whispers, “They believed you.” And Michonne earnestly asks, “How do you know?” Rick says, “You’re here.” And the way he says that you can tell his elation comes not just from the fact that she passed the CRM vetting process but most of all that she’s really here with him after all this time.

And then because Rick is like this rendezvous is about making out first, information second - he goes right back to kissing Michonne and moaning as they pull each other in as close as possible. 😊

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne reciprocates but then she notices something. And this is where the loss of Rick’s hand is mourned yet again by me because we all know the reason Michonne notices Rick’s missing hand is because she’s like normally this would be the part where I feel your hand on my backside but it hasn’t happened yet so, something must have happened.

After not feeling that signature palm on her behind, she stops to touch Rick’s prosthetic and I adore how Rick is still so in the moment of kissing her that he kisses her one more time as she turns to look at his arm. The man is voracious about his wife and I love it. 😊

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne gently holds his prosthetic in her hand and looks at Rick with so much care and concern as she wonders what happened. I feel like this is the first time in years that anybody showed this level of care for what Rick went through and I love that she immediately wants to know what happened to her baby. You know if the CRM had cut his hand off themselves the beef she has with them would only intensify. In a way, the CRM did have a hand in Rick losing his hand so they gotta pay.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick looks down at his prosthetic too and shares sadly but also with a certain resolve, “It happened a long time ago. One of the last times I tried to get home.” I love that he says 'tried to get home' rather than just 'tried to get away.' It shows that in every way the CRM is not home - Michonne and their family still are home to him.

Also, it’s interesting how for Michonne this is devastating news but for Rick, this is old news and he’s just like what’s more important is making out rn. But Rick’s words catch Michonne’s attention as she repeats his words back and says, “One of the last times?”

This is Michonne’s first indicator that Rick might have stopped trying to get home. I think in her mind she thought surely Rick would have been still working on an escape but after fighting like hell to get home for years he had to stop trying - and not even because he wanted to give up but because he was made to feel that going home could get his wife and loved ones killed.

(Side note: I love that the bullet shell from Rick's gun is visible in Michonne’s hair in this scene. She really found every way possible to still be close to him 🥲)

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick’s reaction to her asking this makes me emotional. 😢 He looks into her eyes as he too hears how his words sound and then he takes a deep breath. Breathing tells a very informative story throughout TOWL. And with this inhale from Rick you can just feel the weight of what he’s been through and now, finally having a moment to share some of it with Michonne, it’s probably difficult for him to even know where to begin.

gif cred: @nat111love

It’s hard because we as the audience got to see how hard he fought to get home but at this moment you know it's overwhelming to even know how to tell Michonne how hard this years-long separation and imprisonment has been on him. But he so badly wants Michonne to know that it wasn’t for a lack of trying or a lack of love that he stopped trying to get home.

He tells her, “They had me trapped.” And then the way my heart literally overflows with emotion when Rick so sincerely says, “They don’t have me anymore.” It’s so moving and beautiful to see Rick become the heart-eye emoji as he tells Michonne they don’t have him anymore. 🥲

There’s a clear second part of that sentence that’s not said aloud but rather in Rick's eyes - 'they don’t have me anymore...because I’m yours.'

gif cred: @riickgrimes

The way he looks at her with that teary-eyed smile, knowing he’s hers. 😭 It's touching and layered because he so sincerely wants to reassure Michonne of this, all while knowing that the damage they've done to him is pretty severe.

It’s also so powerful for him to say this because while their situation is still dire and in many ways, Michonne and us will learn the CRM does still have him more than he’d like, in this moment Rick genuinely wants to believe that he’s no longer chained to the CRM.

They don’t get to have him anymore, even if that’s what it still looks like on the outside, because the woman who makes him come alive, the brightest light in his world, is back with him. That alone makes him feel like he is no longer stuck with the CRM.

Rick knows his heart will always belong to her and that was communicated in this sweet line and his loving eyes and smile at her after he says it.

Rick then says with certainty, “We will get away. Together” because right now he does believe that Richonne can do anything. He’s tried to get away for years but having Michonne here now makes all the difference.

gif cred: @nat111love

And I love the eye contact as he looks at her with so much love and smiles, feeling so right being back with her. Like just looking at her gives him strength. At the same time, it moves me how much you can see in his eyes that he's eager to be the determined and strong man Michonne once knew, despite feeling dead and broken after what he endured the last seven or so years.

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne of course believes and is comforted by Rick’s words that they’ll get away together as she smiles and nods. Again she trusts him more than anybody in the world.

gif cred: @nat111love

Also, I love how Rick’s reunion with Michonne as his wife is one where without even having to address it they both just know they’ve waited for each other. They know they’re still the one to each other. As we know, after just a few months Rick reunited with Lori and she was already pregnant with his best friend's baby. So it’s beautiful to see Rick now reunite with his wife Michonne after years and know that she really has only wanted him all these years. And if anything her big reveal will be that she was pregnant with his baby. 🥲

But while that's understandably not revealed in this scene, there's still some more great mom and dad content when Rick again wants to confirm his baby girl is okay.

He asks, “They're okay? She's okay?” I love him asking that and the way he asks, nodding and looking right into Michonne's eyes. Again it’s so vulnerable and caring. A true father. You know making sure his loved ones are good is so important to him.

gif cred: @bizarre-hostile

And “they’re okay” means team family which is sweet that he wants to know they're okay. I liked hearing "they're okay?" too because while Rick doesn't know it, he does in fact have more than one kid out there and it almost felt like without even knowing it he’s asking if both his kids are okay.

Michonne answers with a smile and says, “Yes. She’s okay.” She has this smile that’s so specific to when she’s thinking about her kids and it’s precious. 🥲

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne continues, wanting to finally tell Rick all about how amazing their daughter has turned out as she goes, “She’s…” but then she stops herself and you just know the image of a certain Little Brave Man has popped into her head. 😭

And it’s a moment that hits my heart as you see Michonne feel both joy and sadness. Because she misses RJ too and because she knows Rick is going to be filled with layered emotions the second he learns of him.

Since the moment she found out she was pregnant you know Michonne longed to be able to share with Rick that they had a baby. Rick can tell she has something big to say too as he asks, “What is it?”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I noted in this scene you can really tell that Rick can sense that Michonne has something major to tell him and he knows it’s about their immediate family but he doesn’t know what it is which is why he keeps thinking it might have to do with Judith being okay. Like you can see sometimes he searches her eyes trying to figure it out because whatever the news is he can feel it’s about their kid. And he’s right. It's just about the kid he doesn't know of yet.

And you can also see the thoughts running through Michonne’s head as she and Rick stay in each other's arms between these vehicles. She longs to tell him about RJ but knows this isn’t the right time yet. And as always, she’s right. I heard there were some viewers upset and thinking she made the wrong choice by not telling Rick right here and now and that was wild to me.

This is Richonne’s first time getting to even have an extended conversation and even then it can’t be that long because they can’t risk being caught. And major life-changing news that you have a son that you had no clue about and have missed all of his life thus far is not the kind of thing to drop on someone when there won’t even be time to elaborate and ask questions and just process the news together.

I fully support Michonne choosing to wait and it’s actually such an act of kindness to Rick because she knows that news is going to shock him and be very bittersweet and just a lot to take in and she ideally wants to tell him when they can more freely talk.

Like after holding their child in her womb alone she basically chooses to now hold the news of their son alone just a bit more for Rick’s well-being.

Rather than just drop it on him and have him carry that news on top of carrying the task of getting them home, she shows discipline and restraint and lovingly smiles as she tells him, “When we get away.” (Also I always just love thinking that when Michonne looks at Rick here she’s seeing all of RJ’s little traits he got from his dad. 🥰)

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I adore the way Rick says, “No. She’s okay?” He’s such a concerned dad and again he knows, because of his and Michonne’s interconnectedness, that there’s something more she has to say about their immediate family. I just love that he’s like I can’t wait until we get away to know for certain our baby girl is okay. But Rick, little do you know the news is actually about your beautiful baby boy.

Also, the fact that Rick is so not okay after everything he’s been through all these years but his main care is that Judith is okay 🥲. Warms my heart.

And then the way Michonne responds, it’s my favorite thing ever. 🥹She says the absolute perfect thing as she assuredly tells him, “She’s us, Rick.”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Y’all. 😭 It’s the perfect response and so true. Judith really is a little Richonne baby. 🥹

It’s so beautiful for Michonne to tell Rick that their daughter is just like her mom and her dad. Rick gets to know not only is their baby alive and okay but she has qualities like him even despite his absence and she’s also like the love of his life which you know would make him happy to see Judith turn out like Michonne.

I love that Michonne looks at Judith and sees her and Rick. 🥹 And that they’re an 'us' like that. And also I love the way Michonne has her hand in Rick’s hair as she comforts him with this confirmation that their baby girl is bound to be okay because she’s just like her resilient parents.

Michonne calmly says, “The rest when we get away” and hearing Judith is them is enough for Rick to feel a bit less anxious and agree to wait for the rest of the family updates.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

He nods and then remembers this is probably also a good time to get their next steps in order.

Rick tells Michonne if he passes her a note somehow she has to read it and destroy it. Michonne looks into Rick’s eyes because she has to address some things about this shady CRM as she tells him, “They killed people, Rick. Dozens of people.” I know Michonne is like my friends died and I almost died from these people so wth is this place? (Also I love how often she says Rick’s name since they've reunited.)

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

As Rick mesmerizingly stares into her soul (and i'm not even exaggerating about that lol) Michonne says, “They’re killing people out there. Have you had to…?” And before she can finish the question, Rick is quick to want to make it clear that he means it when he says he’s not with them as he says, “No. No. The ones in red. They go out sometimes. They come back covered in blood.”

He looks at her toward the tail end of that statement but it’s interesting how for the most part he looks down when talking about the CRM, again almost like there’s this sense of shame and fear surrounding them.

He says, “Most of us don’t know what they do. I didn’t know.” Rick looks into Michonne's eyes as he admits to not knowing about the CRM's mass killings and then he vulnerably says, “But I knew. I was stuck here.” That’s the one thing the CRM made very clear to him.

Seeing the toll the CRM has taken on her friends and now her husband, Michonne knows the CRM needs to be taught a lesson and brought down so she, as determined as ever, asks Rick, “Could we stop them?”

And y’all I absolutely adore Rick’s response to her. 😍 The way a big smile spreads across his face as he gets to see Michonne is still the woman he knows and loves who won’t take anything lying down. She's still her. Again, you just see him have so much love for the part of her that’s a fighter. Like the way Rick just has to swoon for a second over his wife's determination is the sweetest thing. 😊

But then Rick collects himself, knowing taking on the CRM is too risky as he definitively answers, “No.” Michonne takes a moment to look at Rick, surprised and searching for the man who was always willing to fight the fight with her before. Then she asks, “Could we try?”

Rick is quiet for a moment, not wanting to have to just turn her down about this, but he knows a thing or two about how hard you can try against the CRM and they still come out on top. So he softly says, “We’d never get back.” Getting home with Michonne is the ultimate priority for him.

And then in the first of many times Rick will gift Michonne in TOWL, he reaches into his pocket and gives Michonne Nat’s signature lighter that his stepparent Danger gave him. 🥹

Once again Rick wins Husband of the Year because how sweet is his good kind heart that he saw the lighter in the woods and pocketed it knowing it would mean something to Michonne to have something of her late friend. He’s the best. 🥰 And I love the way he gently lifts up her hand with his prosthetic to give her the lighter and the way their hands linger in each other as she takes it. Every time they touch it's clear they're magnets. 🧲

Rick so sweet and sincere says, “I’m sorry about your friend.” Like truly, anything and anyone that means something to Michonne means something to Rick because he loves her so much - even the guy who nearly killed Rick by shooting down his helicopter.

Michonne, never one to forget her loved ones' memory, says, “He should’ve lived. They all should’ve lived.” But then she takes a quiet moment and confidently looks right into Rick’s eyes as she says, “I’m here now. We’re in here together now. And we’re gonna get home.”

gif cred: @ddesole

I love how Rick and Michonne both want to fervently reassure each other of this - that they’re in this together and they’re going to achieve their goal of getting home because they’re here as a unit now. Having each other back makes them know they can do anything…at least for now.

And then Rick is ready to go back to the activity that was always at the top of his agenda for this secret rendezvous because he’s like 'Michonne, you can’t be a hotly determined A like that and think these magnets aren’t going to kick in to overdrive and have me eating your face again lol.' #DirectQuote 😋

So Rick of course leans in to kiss her again and Michonne looks like she might’ve thought they were going to continue the conversation but then of course it takes less than a second for her to reciprocate the energy and start passionately kissing him back.

gif cred: @hikarielizabethbloom

I really adore that closing kiss. These kisses stay feeling like they’re trying to inhale each other and physically morph into one being. and then I especially adore the way they embrace after it, just overcome with the amount of love they pour out to each other. It’s so sweet seeing them nestled into each other. 🥰 Every physical Richonne action, from the kisses, the forehead touches, the embraces, and more is so 'spine-tinglingly' intimate.

As Rick leans against her, you can see that he does feel a bit overwhelmed and unsure of how he’s gonna get them out of here. But being wrapped in her arms now he’s at least given the strength and the calm to know somehow they’ll find a way.

And as Michonne holds him close, she looks like so long as she has him, she’ll face whatever else may come her way in this giant mysterious place. It really does feel like she's transferring this much-needed uplifting energy and reassurance to him as they stay in this embrace.

The way Richonne gives each other life gives me life. And this scene makes me so happy like it’s oozing serotonin.

Richonne is in for quite a roller coaster after they leave this moment in the garage so I appreciate this scene - their first extended conversation in years - for giving them a time when they're on the same page.

With this scene, they got to show that their chemistry is still as fiery as ever and they’re still such a well-oiled machine as parents and partners. Whenever Rick and Michonne are in each other's arms they’re in the safest place they could be.

But while they’re the ultimate safety to each other, to the CRM...Richonne is most definitely the danger. 😌👌🏽

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.02 #RIR (16)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 8 months

Text

The Rescue

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven,

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

A/N: Guys this is a very long chapter with a lot going on please put on your seatbelts, settle in, because it gets wild.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific Chapter Warning: R explains the trauma she dealt with as a child, SMUT. Oral (F receiving), Fingering (F receiving), Praise, Dirty talk, partially protected sex (F on the shot) Aaron has a slight breeding kink, cream pie,

Present Day

David waves one final time before slipping into his car, the parking deck of the quantico office quiet and still in the late hours. It’s nearing 12am, you’re mentally taxed, your brain begging to shut down but you can’t stop fidgeting in the passenger seat beside Aaron.

Aaron’s face is hard set, his eyes gauging your every move. “What do you want to do?” His voice is soft, filling the quiet cab, “I can take you to your neighbor’s if that would make you feel better…” There’s another option he would like to give you, his own nerves firing in overtime, afraid to let you leave his sight.

You’re staring out the window at the concrete walls, you feel hallow, like something inside your body has shattered and you’ve lost all of the important pieces. “I…” you like your lips, trying to find your voice. “Anna said she was okay with Bruce, right?”

“Yes.” Aaron draws out the word, searching for your face in the darkened glass, barely able to make out your reflection. You look torn down, the strong woman he has known chipped away to reveal a scared little girl, running from whatever darkness haunts her past. “We can go wherever you need to.”

“I’d… I just…” you take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have only been a few hours between what happened and now, and each one has been filled with flourished activity. You haven’t had time to stop and process what has happened, your brain now catching up to your body. Your head throbs slightly, the few cuts in your palms sting when you close your fists, your eyes hurt from crying so much. But the worst of it all is the war raging in your mind, the struggle of keeping it all in or letting it all out a constant battle that you seem to be losing more and more control over.

“Why don’t we take a ride?” The suggestion breaks through your thoughts, making you turn towards Aaron. His face is so soft, an expression you’ve never seen before, and you aren’t sure if you want to hate it or long for it.

“Okay…”

And so he does just that. He drives into the city, the street lights zipping by, barely illuminating dark houses and empty streets. Aaron drives with no real destination in mind, taking random turns, navigating the roads as you sit in silence. Eventually one of his hands come to rest beside your thigh, the flash of light on his watch catching your attention.

It’s a reminder.

An offer.

Salvation.

An hour passes in stark silence before you take your first deep breath, the noise loud in the small space. “Thank you… for saving me.” You force your voice to steady out, grappling for the mask you so carefully constructed all those years ago to shield the rubble of your true form.

“Do not thank me.” Aaron responds, rolling to a stop at a traffic light. You’re unfamiliar with this part of town, but it looks like a nice area with large lawns and small houses. “I just want you to talk to me.”

Your lips press together, glancing down at his large hand. Slowly you let your own hand slip off of your lap, tentatively touching his pinky with yours.

“I… it’s hard… and messy.” You whisper, watching how his fingers twitch but he makes no move to take your hand.

“I understand… but please, let me help you.” The light above suddenly cascades the car in neon green, and Aaron’s drives on, his face stoney and a twinge of desperation in his voice.

You turn your gaze back to the window with a deep breath, the cracks in your soul widening as you speak.

“I… I had a fairly normal childhood when I was younger. Very typical suburban family, my mother stayed home with me while my father worked at a mechanic shop. Happy, picturesque family…” You swallow thickly, choking on the pressure building in your chest. “I was 8 when my mom died… she was hit by a drunk driver and my dad just… he couldn’t handle it. He loved her so much that when she died he snapped. He started drinking and I… he would drink so much that I would find him passed out for hours on end and I was still just a child…”

A dark bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head as you lean back into the seat. “Then one day he seemed to wake up. Instead of being mad at the world and God, things that felt no retribution from his anger, he decided that he needed something that would. Me. The night she died she was on the way home from seeing her mother. It was so late but I missed her, she had been gone for two days. I begged her to come home.”

You can still see that night vividly when you closed your eyes, the old house filled with police officers, the broken sound of your father’s begging screams. The female officer who had taken you to your room to explain that your mother would not be coming home as she sat with you on the floor surrounded by coloring books and stuffed animals.

“He told me my emotions caused everything. That if I had just sucked it up and been strong she would still be with us. He made me believe it, and… I still do to this day. From that moment on he had decided to train me to be better.”

Your fingers inch farther across Aaron’s knuckles, and finally he flips his palm, lacing your fingers through his. The feeling of him squeezing your hand settles your rolling stomach.

“Our house was a fixer upper, the guest bathroom had never been completed so my dad… painted over the small window, put foam over the gaps to the door and threw me in. I…” Your grip tightens, your throat restricting. You look over at Aaron’s normally stoic face and see barely restrained rage. “Hours and hours I’d spend in that room…. As I grew older it grew worse. He’d keep me from school… have me do everything my mother used to do. Clean, make all the meals, laundry. By the time high school rolled around I had missed so much school CPS has been called. The case was dropped in an instance because my dad charmed the woman over, said I was a run away most of the time since my mother died.”

Aarons grip on the wheel is white knuckled, his lips pressed into a hard line as he focuses on the road ahead. “I was beat with a belt that night. It gave me the courage to leave though. From that moment on I worked my ass off to get here… I just… I didn’t want there to be another kid like me… I know what my father did was wrong but it’s so ingrained in my head that every emotion I let slip through could be my undoing, could be the reason the next bad thing happens to me or those I care for… I can’t… I can’t let that happen again.”

You glance over to Aaron, who’s silence is becoming unnerving as his thumb strokes over your own. Finally he pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles for a long moment before he speaks.

“I’m sorry. I know those words do little for what you have been through… I also know you don’t want to be pitied, and I’m not going to do that. You are extremely strong, Y/n. You have over come something that most people would let consume their lives, steer them to destitution.” He licks his lips and glances your way briefly, noting the solemn look on your face. “You know my opinion on your emotions, and I think you’re wrong about believing they can only bring you harm or failure. You’ve done so much involving them already you just haven’t realized it yet.

You have accomplished things that others only dream of, you alone and no one else. Your father played no role in this, he didn’t train you to become the woman you are, that was there all along. And I know deep in my heart that your mother is watching you with pride.” Your heart, the damaged organ that it is, swells from the praise and the thought of your mother. Your eyes burn and you’re surprised you have anything left to let out. But then again it’s years of buildup all coming to a head.

“Is he the reason for these?” Aaron gestures to your thigh, and you nod slightly.

“He threw me into the bathroom once and some of the tiles were broken… I can’t really feel the area anymore but I have what I guess you would call a phantom pain every now and again.”

Aaron brings your hand back for another gentle kiss, the delicate action such a contrast to the gleam of fury in his dark eyes. “My brave girl.” And for whatever reason, those three words break you. Maybe it’s because Aaron is seeing you, and not a facade, maybe it’s the perception of the fact that you are brave, or maybe it’s the simple claim that indicates so much more than ownership.

Comfort.

Safety.

Someone to rely on when you need it the most.

You clamp your other hand over your mouth as you sob, leaning into his shoulder as you feel everything fall into you all at once. Letting another person hold the weight of your world for just a little bit.

Aaron turns into a parking lot, into the first spot he can find before killing the engine and wrapping you in a tight hug. The consul is digging into your ribs, his hold is a little suffocating, but you bury your face into his chest anyways.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Are you sure?”

Once you had finally calmed down Aaron offered you his guest room for the night. You were an hour away from home but only 20 minutes from his. After a long moment of hesitation you agreed, much to his visual relief. But now standing in front of his door you feel your reservations creeping back in.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” He pushes the door open and steps into a dark room. Your breath unintentionally hitches, your eyes scanning the deep darkness until light floods the area. “I have a security system installed. We will get you the same one for your home.”

The beeping of the alarm would have went completely unnoticed had Aaron not said anything as he fiddles with the control panel on the other wall. He turns once it goes silent, watching you as you linger in the doorway, doubt and fear waging in your eyes as you scan over his simply furnished apartment.

“It’s okay. I promise.”

He’s warm reassurance makes you feet ease into the room, the door shutting firmly behind you. You’re entire body is rigid, arms slung around your center like you’re holding yourself together with your own white knuckled grip. Aaron bites his lip slight before stepping closer, gesturing to the rooms behind him.

“What would you like to do? Are you hungry?”

You tug slightly at your necklace, opening your mouth only to find the words are stuck deep in your throat.

“Y/n?” He steps closer and your eyes snap to his.

“I… I don’t know what I want to do… my head is pounding and I just… I can’t figure it out, I can’t decide.” Your stare is helpless, eyes flickering back and forth between his brown ones. It’s your way of asking for his help without letting the words out because if you do you’re scared of what you will become after that.

Something in his face shifts, it’s ever so slight but you can see it in the way he shrugs out of his coat, tossing it on the back of the couch. You can see it in the way his shoulders roll back and the lines around his eyes soften. “I know baby.” He closes the distance between you, cupping your face between burning hands and you physically feel the tension draining from your jaw. “Let’s get you cleaned up okay? We will go from there.”

Aaron leads you through the apartment, flicking on the lights as he goes, he walks you into his bedroom, a space as simply furnished as the rest of his home; and towards his joint bathroom. “Why don’t you wash your hands and I’ll find you something to wear to bed?”

Even though he is phrasing everything as a question you know he’s giving you the guidance you need, not making you over think or pick what needs to be done first. You nod your head and he gives you a soft smile before ducking out of the restroom.

You glance at your hands, the nurses had cleaned your hands enough to remove the shards of glass but there is still blood caked between your fingers and under your nails. Turning on the water you test the temperature before easing your hands under the flow. A soft hiss leaves your lips at the sting but you find yourself leaning into it.

You don’t notice Aaron standing in the doorway, watching as your hands tremble under the steaming water. “Here.” You jump faintly at the sudden rasp of his voice, finding him in the mirror.

He steps by you, his hand skimming your waist and your attention zeros in on the touch. Aaron grabs a rag from the shelf over the toilet, gently pushing you from in front of the sink. He wets the rag and turns to you, reaching for your hands without another word and begins to wipe away the blood and grime.

His hands hold yours softly, and you never knew he could be so gentle. Your eyes can’t leave his face, the concentration making lines appear between his brow, his eyes squinting slightly.

Aaron glances up at the feeling of you watching him and your cheeks flush, having been caught but still unable to look away. Once finished with your hands he rinses the rag, cupping your face once more as he runs the rough material over your cheek, cleaning away the stains of makeup.

Your eyes flutter, something in your body thrumming to life with each swipe of the cloth. “Aaron…” You don’t even mean to say his name, the syllables just fall so easily from your lips and he stills, eyes boring into yours.

“Sweet girl.” He breathes back, and your insides twist sharply. The tension is undeniable, the feeling of him so close forcing your body to react. You inch closer, your eyes dropping to his lips, watching as a smile curves the corner of his mouth.

The rag falls to the counter, his hands pulling you in the rest of the way. You’re nearly on your tiptoe, your hands finding his arms to steady yourself. He brushes a soft kiss against your lips and you whimper, the sound high in your throat and he breaks, deepening the kiss with hunger.

Electricity shoots through your body, pinging off of every nerve, setting them all ablaze. His hands move to your waist, bunching up your shirt until his palms meet your warm skin, and you shudder at the feeling. Aaron moans, the sound deep in his chest and you whimper as it travels through your bones straight to your core.

Pressing you backwards, Aaron walks you out of the restroom, hands wandering the plains of your back. You stumble against him, letting him lead you to the bed where the backs of your knees brush the king sized mattress. Your heart pounds in your chest, but when Aaron breaks the kiss to look down at you, he finds no hesitation in the dewy set of your eyes.

“Can I?” His voice is husky as he tugs at your sweater and you offer a small nod. He kisses you again, knocking the air from your lungs as he helps you pull your arms free, backing away to slip the cotton over your head and throw it to the floor. You’re in nothing fashionable, a simple black t-shirt bra but the hunger in his gaze is undeniable. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your hands find his chest, going for the buttons of his white shirt only for Aaron to grab your wrists, pulling your hands to his lips to kiss your palms. “Aaron I…”

“Do you know how hard it was to work today? Knowing you’re just a few feet away from me?” You shake your head, swaying slightly on your feet. “All I was able to think about was you. How your lips taste, how you moan my name, the way you looked underneath me in the morning.”

All of those things felt like a lifetime ago, and as his teeth nipped your skin just over the pulse in your wrist, you realize you would do anything to relive it. “I need you.” Your voice is a desperate, soft plea; your eyes alight with need making his lips curl.

“Then let me take care of you.” He whispers, his grip tightening slightly. You lick your lips, his gaze darting down for a breath before snagging your eyes again, there’s so much lust and need swirling in the depths of his brown irises that you find yourself lost in them. “Let me show you how you deserve to be treated, princess.”

“Please.” It’s a soft breath of a word, but it’s all that’s needed.

Aaron kisses you so forcefully that you’re sure your lips will be bruised, but you don’t have time to care as he suddenly pushes you. The bed springs squeak under the sudden impact of your body, the air leaving your lungs in one big whoosh. Aaron’s fingers expertly pop the button of your jeans, and your blood buzzes with excitement as you lift your hips, helping him pull them down and off your legs, taking your shoes and socks with them.

There’s something about the way he is suddenly above you, still fully dress in his work clothes where as you’re laid out scarcely clad in your underwear set, with nothing to hide behind. It’s a display of dominance that sends a rush of wet heat to your center.

Aaron smiles down at you, his hands making their way up your thighs, spreading your legs for you to display the soaked gusset of your grey panties. The moan that rips from his throat makes your stomach clench, your teeth impaling the pink flesh of your lip.

“You are all I have been able to think about,” He whispers, his fingers curling into the band of your panties as he moves to his knees. “And now I finally get to have you.” Aaron pulls your panties down your trembling thighs, laying you bare before him as he slips one of your legs over his shoulder.

His warm breath fans over your soaked lips, your vision going hazy as you prop yourself on an elbow to see. He looks sinful between your thighs, dark eyes looking up at you through darker lashes, his hair tussled, jaw hanging open slightly. The anticipation makes your stomach swoop and the breath in your lungs freeze.

You’re given no warning before he ducks his head, his tongue licking a fat stripe from your entrance and catching on your clit. You gasp at the sensation, your head falling back against the bed. Aaron wraps his arm around your thigh, holding you still as he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, your legs threatening to squeeze his skull.

“Oh fuck…” You moan, your hand finding his short hair and tugging almost painfully, back leaving the bed. Aaron smiles against you, his teeth nipping at your folds before he lazily fucks his tongue into your dripping hole. “Oh god, Aaron…”

“You taste so fucking sweet.” His arm tightens on your thigh, his other hand tracing patterns on the inner skin of the other. You squirm at the feeling, your eyes pinched shut as waves of arousal roll through your body. Aaron’s dark eyes travel up the expanse of your body, seeking your face but he can only see the way your chest rises and falls with each gasping breath, your head tossed back as noises of pleasure fill the room.

His cock pulses in the tight confines of his slacks, the need to feel your wet heat wrapped around his aching member nearly driving him insane.

“Fuck, please Aaron…” You aren’t sure what you are begging for as your orgasm begins to swell under your skin, pulling your muscles taught. A part of you wants to feel embarrassed at how easily he has been able to bring you to the brink, but the sounds of his moans between your legs quickly floods the thought out.

“Cum for me baby, make a mess on my face.” It’s dirty and mind reeling all at once, your jaw going slack as your hips grind up to meet his mouth. Aaron slips two fingers to your opening, gathering the combination of slick and spit before easing into you.

A soft whimper accompanies the sudden intrusion, your hips undulating to take more of his thick digits as your orgasm creeps ever closer. He sets a steady rhythm, slow and deep that leaves stars dancing around your vision and with one final swirl of his tongue as his fingers curl into that spongy spot deep in your walls you break.

Your orgasm rips through your body like a bolt of lightening. Your limbs lock and your back bows up, your lips form a perfect ‘O’ as waves of pleasure crash over you.

“That is, that’s my good girl.” Aaron praises, keeping his pace steady as you moan his name like a prayer. It’s a few more seconds until your body collapses back onto the bed, your fingers falling from his hair taking a strand or two with them. Aaron pulls away, standing back up licking your slick from his fingers with a grumbling groan.

Climbing back up your body he creates a trail of kisses that leave you feeling hot and desperate, a distinct emptiness between your legs as he settles over you. Aaron cups the back of your head, lifting you to meet his bruising kiss. The tangy taste of yourself is heavy on his tongue as he explores your mouth, your still trembling hands finding his back and pulling him closer.

The hard ridge in his slacks presses against your heated, slick core, grinding slowly. You whimper into his mouth, hands trialing up his back, scratching at his shirt. You break away with a gasp. “To… too many clothes.” Going for the small plastic buttons Aaron lets out a soft laugh as your fumble over them.

“Easy princess. All you had to do was ask.” He sits back on his heels, your legs draped over his thighs and you watch mesmerized as his fingers easily work the buttons free, revealing his chest full of dark hair. You manage to twist your arm behind your back, freeing the clasp of your bra and quickly throwing it somewhere in the floor to join the growing pile.

Aaron groans at the sight of you, his mouth watering as he thinks of every spot he wants to cover with bites and bruises. Starting with your breasts. He leans over you, snagging your wrists and pinning them to the bed.

You bite your cheek, surprised that you welcome the weight of him above you, that you like the feeling of him pinning you down, leaving you to his mercy. You find your mind slipping more, every worried thought falling into some unreachable place that can remain in the dark.

Clearing his throat lightly, Aaron licks his lips. “Maybe I should have asked this sooner but… when was the last time you were with someone.?”

An awkward but none the less important question to ask, even if he is seated between your trembling thighs, staring down at your naked body.

A new flush spreads over your cheeks and you shift against the bed, against the hold he has on your wrists. “I… I was in high school.”

A moment of shock steals his features before he can school his face back. “Do you take birth control?”

You squirm again, chewing the inside of your cheek as his thumbs rub over your galloping pulse. “I.. Every three months I go get a shot. It’s better than taking a pill every day that I might forget.” You explain weakly, searching his face.

Aaron nods, shifting his weight on his knees, his cold belt buckle pressing into your thigh. “I can always grab a condom if that makes you feel better.” One hand leaves your wrist but you don’t dare move as he places it on your lower tummy, spreading wide. “But I have to admit, the idea of fucking you full of me is very, very exciting.” Your breath catches, eyes widening and Aaron’s grin turns devilish. “You think so too.”

All you can do is nod slightly, a thrill working through your body that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end, gooseflesh cascading over your skin.

Sitting back, Aaron releases you completely to fiddle with his belt. The brown leather hisses through the belt loops and when he stands he takes his pants and boxers down in one swoop. Your eyes instantly fall to the hard member standing up between his legs and your thighs clench.

His cock is long and thick, the dark hairs at the base trimmed neatly like the rest of him. A few veins run along his shaft, the prominent one on the underside pulsing slightly. He takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice, to relieve some of the ache, the mushroom head a light shade of pink.

You whimper at the sight of him, the need in your belly almost painful. “Aaron… I want you.” Your voice is sultry, your eyes glazed over when you finally look at his face. He smiles crookedly as he slinks back onto the bed, his eyebrow cocked.

“You can have me, princess. Every part of me is yours.” The words scorch through your chest right to the very center of your soul and you find your legs falling apart, your hands still gripping the sheets above your head. “Come here.” Instead of covering you with his body, Aaron lays down beside you, turning you so you lay on your side as well.

“What?” He pulls your back flush to his chest, his hand slipping over your thigh and dragging your leg on top of his. You whimper when you feel the smooth heat of his cock glide through your wet folds, your back instinctively arching into him.

Aaron’s arm tucks under your head, his other hand free to roam your body as he rocks his hips, slipping his cock between your folds with ease, gathering your slick. “So wet baby, so ready for me aren’t you?” He breathes, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. You whine and press your head back into his shoulder, exposing your neck more. “That’s my girl. Are you going to let me mark you up? Show everyone just who you belong to?”

You nod without a thought in your head, “Y-yes… please Aaron.” He smiles against your skin before nipping the delicate area, turning the skin a deep shade of red as he closes his lips over the spot. You moan loudly, rocking your hips back against his, the steady glide of his cock bumping into your clit driving you wild.

“So fucking pretty.” He whispers and you force yourself to turn your head and look at him. When you do your heart jumps to your throat, his hooded eyes burn with lust but there’s something else swirling just below the surface, something that makes your head groggy and your body melt into his.

“You belong right here.” His voice is deep and rough and it makes your jaw slacken. Your chest squeezes, butterflies erupting in your stomach, beating at you with their wings as his hips draw back. The round head of his cock presses against your entrance, his hand tightening on your hip. “I’m going to enjoy every moment of watching you come undone for me.” He presses forward, stretching you around him and your nails dig into his forearm with a whine. Aaron’s gaze never wavers from yours, caught in the depths of your irises. “Then every moment of piecing you back together.”

Leisurely Aaron rocks his hips, slipping deeper and deeper into your wet heat. Every inch has your back arching, the ridges and bumps rubbing along your walls in the most perfect way. Your eyes slip nearly shut, your breath puffing across his pink lips and your only awareness is of Aaron. How his muscles bunch under your hand, how your body sticks to his from the heat radiating between you both, how his fingers dig into your flesh guiding your hips back to meet his as he sinks home.

Never have you felt this full, the stretch burns and it boarders on painful but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Ecstasy skirts down Aaron’s spine, making his own groan slip free and his cock twitch. You jump at the feeling, your breath wheezing in your lungs and he smiles, repeating the motion.

“Aaron… oh fuck.” It’s all you can manage, head falling back into the crevice of his shoulder, one arm wrapping up around his that pillows your head. His name is a soft, sweet beg and it has Aaron’s stoicism crumpling.

“Tell me what you need, princess. I’ll give you everything.” His breath is warm against your ear, your eyes starting to water for reasons you can’t explain the longer he stays seated inside you. His hand continuously strokes your side as you fight for your words, kisses littering your jaw as the seconds pass.

“I need… I need you to move, Aaron.”

There isn’t a chance in hell he would make you beg twice, slowly he pulls back, ensuring you feel every part of him before pushing back in. Your jaw drops, uninhibited moans falling past your lips at the steady rhythm he sets. Aaron slips his hand to your cheek, caressing you with his thumb in time to each deep thrust. “You take me so well, my cock was made just for you wasn’t it?”

It consumes your body like a wild fire, burning intense and bright, cracking through your skin which each grind of his hips. You cling to him where you can, your eyes rolling back into your skull, and he uses the opportunity to turn your face back to his. Aaron kisses you with no sense of urgency, no rush to throw you to the end, he claims your mouth the same way he claims your body; with a measure of patience and understanding that leaves you reeling.

You break away first, moaning his name and his hand travels down your neck, cupping your heavy breast as his lips find your neck. His long fingers toy with your pebbled nipple, sparks flying into your stomach with each pinch and roll. Your leg tightens around his thigh, your breath coming faster as your body arches into his touch.

“I’m… fuck I’m going to cum.” You breath into the warm air, your cunt fluttering around his cock rhythmically.

“Cum for me, take what you need and cum all over my cock.” Aaron’s rhythm doesnt falter in the slightest, the pump of his cock hard and slow hitting spots you’d never dreamt of finding. His hand leaves your breast, trailing down your stomach slowly circling your belly. You moan at the feeling, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin. “This little part right here, this part of your beautiful belly, drives me mad.” His hand presses down into your lower stomach slightly and you see stars at the sudden pressure, feeling his cock against rubbing against your muscles. “Imagining you heavy and round-.” Aaron groans as your cunt tightens, your breath uneven like the sudden stutter in your hips. “Pregnant with my baby.”

A guttural version of his name leaves your lips as you snap in two. The fire inside your body turning into an inferno, consuming you entirely as you cling helplessly to Aaron. Your head is flush with his shoulder, your foot hooked around his leg as your pussy spasms and coats his cock with cream. Aaron’s pace suddenly falters and he moans loudly, the feeling of your velvet walls clamping down around him nearly his undoing.

Slowly you drift back to yourself, gasping for air and shuddering as the aftershocks rock through you. You lick your lips, about to say anything when suddenly Aaron is pressing you forward, rolling you onto your front. He slips free of your pussy and you whimper, letting him adjust your pliant body to his needs. With your chest pressed to the bed and your ass thrust into the air Aaron groans at the sight of you. Your thighs tremble in effort to keep yourself up right, sweat gleams across your back and shoulders, flushing your skin a beautiful shade of pink. “You’re doing so good for me.” His hands graze over the globe of your ass, settling on your hips as he nudges your knees apart, adjusting your stance. You make a soft noise in your throat, fingers finding hold in the bedding. “I know baby, you’re being such a good girl though. I know you can take it, just relax for me.” Your brain hardly keeps up, picking out the important words in its state and your body melts into the mattress with a sigh. His cock aligns with your opening, teasing until you whimper, rocking back trying to impale yourself on him. Aaron smiles, sweeping your hair off of your neck and into his fist. He's gentle as he tugs at the strands, testing the waters and you moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"That's it baby. Just like that." He draws out the words as he sinks into your heat. The angle is so much different than before, the head of his cock rubbing along the front wall of your cunt and you gape at the sensation. Your grip tightens on the bed as his hips become flush with your ass, giving you a moment to adjust.

"Oh fuck... Oh fuck." You mumble, electricity skimming up your spine as Aaron pulls back until only the tip is left.

"Beg for me." The words are a laced growl and you simper below him, the hold on your hair growing tighter.

"Please, please Aaron I want- I need you so bad. Please fuck me." You don't know where the words come from, somewhere deep and primal in your guts but they have never felt so right.

Aaron's hips snap forward, sinking into you at a punishing force and you cry into the air, the need and pleasure curling back into your stomach with a vengeance. To say Aaron is fucking you into the mattress is an understatement, the hold on your hip is bruising and the grip on your hair is punishing. The lewd sounds of sex fill the air, wet squelching as his cock sinks into you, the slap of skin against skin and the unmistakable moans of pleasure.

"Such a good. Fucking. Girl." He breathes, his body curving over your own, husky moans falling from his lips as he pounds into you. "Fuck baby, you're squeezing me so hard. Are you gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock?"

Your head tips back a smile curving your lips at his praise and you nod what little you can. "Yeees! Oh god yes Aaron.” You hold onto the sheets with white knuckled force, your moans and gasps mixing with his grunts making an intoxicating song. He growls low in his chest, his teeth bared, sweat gleaming on his shoulders and forehead.

“I’m gonna cum Y/n… I’m gonna make you mine. Again.” A harsh thrust makes you keen, your head tilting back making your neck strain. “And again.” Another one leaves you gasping, your mouth falling open. “And again.”

You snap simultaneously, his hips slamming into your ass as you cry his name. His cock switches, painting your walls with ropes of milky cum, your cunt squeezing every last drop free as you shudder and collapse. Lights dance behind your lids, your orgasm moving through your body with such force you are scarcely aware of the moans falling from Aaron’s kiss bitten lips.

“Mine. My good girl, my pretty little thing.”

It takes a few more moments before Aaron is able to roll onto his back beside you, grunting slightly at the burn in his hips as you let out a soft moan, stretching out your soar muscles. Aaron pulls you into his side easily, wrapping an arm around your waist as your head finds his shoulder.

You both lay like that for several minutes, basking in the afterglow of it all as you try to catch your breaths. Your brain hasn’t quite caught up to your sated body, letting the euphoria and calm take the lead for a while longer.

Aaron is the first to break the soft silence. “We need to get you cleaned up.” A soft noise of protest leaves your lips, your limbs too heavy to move. A smile in his voice makes your own lips curl, “I know. But we need to. There’s going to be a lot going on tomorrow.”

With that you can’t argue, so you allowed Aaron to slip from your grip, the sound of water running in the bathroom filling the quiet. Moments later he’s back, helping you into the restroom on unsteady legs where a warm shower awaits.

When he steps in behind you, you only have a moment to be surprised before he pulls you under the stream of water. The shower is small with just enough room for the both of you, but you find no protest on your lips as Aaron begins massaging his fingers through your hair.

You sigh blissfully, letting your weight rest against his chest as he works away the agony of today, but also a little off of the mountain that has weighed you down for so long.

“I don’t care about the contact.” His deep voice is sudden making you jump slightly.

“What?”

“I don’t care about the contract.” Aaron runs his hands down to your shoulders, turning you slightly so you can gauge his face as he speaks. “I care about you, the contract was… is a piece of paper to ensure neither of us got hurt. We don’t need it.”

You scan his face, his dark eyes reading so much more than he is saying. “What… what do we do then?” Your throat works as you swallow, butterflies eating once more at your belly as Aaron cups your check.

“Whatever you would like… but… I like the idea of you coming to me with your problems, of taking care of you, of you being mine.” He curls your necklace around one of his fingers, tugging softly and a new heat flairs at the bottom of your spine. Aaron’s dark eyes scan your face, trying to read your thoughts.

“I…” You swallow, the reality hitting you. These last few days had you thrown through the wringer, forced out of your comfort zone, and brought dark secrets to light. You’ve struggled and cried and raged all while finding comfort and passion and acceptance in ways you didn’t know existed before Aaron Hotchner knocked on your door one dark morning.

You nod your head slowly, licking your lips as you run your hands up his chest, the water spilling over his shoulder and the mist sprinkling your cheeks. You press in tighter and Aaron cups the back of your head, angling it ready to capture your lips at a moment’s notice.

“I can still call you ‘Sir’?”

A large smile breaks across his face, wrinkling the corners of his eyes as he cups your face, bringing you closer. "You can call me whatever you would like, little one..." His palm slips into your wet hair, tangling his fist into the strands and giving a soft tug. "As long as I get to call you mine." He laces the word with a growl and crashes his lips to yours with surprising force, need instantly flooding out the exhaustion from your system. You gasp against his lips, whimpering a soft yes as his tongue sweeps over your own.

"Good girl."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Thank you all so much, once again, for sticking with me through this story. This has been the most grueling, but rewarding thing I have written, and I am just astounded by the love it has received! I plan to make a few blurbs off of this story so fill free to check in ever now and again but if you would like to be tagged in future tidbits please feel free to leave a comment! 💜💜💜

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