#I wouldn't say it's a healthy personality but it's what she's had and I don't think it was her fault that she was like that

[dreamwreaver]

I completely agree, Vaggie and Charlie are really each other's antithesis and it's executed BADLY. The show doesn't do anything meaningful with their differences, if anything, it makes it starker. Their communication is terrible, they are not at all in sync with each other's needs and the only time they ever got actual development was when they separated to seek help for the battle with the exorcist, in which, they had more chemistry with their respective mentors than they ever had with each other (I honestly ship Vaggie and Carmilla a little after their spar, like come on, one time Carmilla lets her hair down, an act of vulnerability in some cultures, was with Vaggie and Vaggie also got her wings back after that fight too. Not to mention, they had a whole ass song together despite not meeting yet before the Chaggie song and has plus points for being original unlike Chaggie's song so Vamilla/Battleangel is a decent ship for me.)

Vaggie may say that she'll do anything for Charlie but she sure as hell won't let Charlie sing and have a deal with the same guy she had a deal back in episode 1. She also seems to forgot that her girlfriend is a grown-ass woman who can thrive on without her while she can't because she thinks she's worth nothing without Charlie. It's sad, really.

I'm honestly curious on what you'd discuss further on how Vaggie would have never let Charlie in but Charlie didn't think to knock, can you please share?

Ngl, while it's not an s-tier ship for me because I do adore zestmilla, battle angel is indeed an underrated pairing and tbh? At the very least Vaggie deserved to have an obsessive lesbian crush on Carmilla. I know it was allegedly planned for her to have an obsession with weapons and it got cut for time or other reasons. Whatever, more stripping of Vaggie's character and turning her into a bland nonentity so she doesn't compete for attention with literally everyone else.

As for your question; I would like to refer back to Charlie's rant at Alastor during their cannibal town date. No I will not be taking arguments on that, that's precisely what it was.

"Three years, three YEARS I've been sharing my life with her and I tell her EVERYTHING! My hopes, my dreams, my insecurities, my embarrassing habits, what fucking DEODORANT I like! And she keeps something, like THIS from ME! Why would she lie for so long? Did she think I wouldn't accept her? What about me, ME, says un-understanding?"

And if you watch her body language during this whole rant it's less emotional hurt and more... ego hurt? Like, this whole upset has gone from "the person I love and trust more than anything has been lying to me about who they are," to, "I share everything about myself with her and should have been entitled to this information."

And yeah, I get it, she was made to look incredibly stupid in front of a heavenly council right before being blasted back to Hell with an entire exorcist army aimed right at her front door. Anyone might be justifiably upset that such important info was kept from them. But as Carmilla literally says not ten minutes later, "You have a giant X over your eye and wield an angelic spear, it's not rocket science."

So Carmilla was able to take literally ONE look at Vaggie and clock her origins? Going further, depending on how you interpret Lucifer's gaze in Dad Beat Dad upon meeting Vaggie it's entirely possible HE clocked her as angelic too. And yet, the person who spends the most time around her somehow couldn't connect those dots? Charlie's optimistic but she's not dumb. She's got a naive understanding of sinners and how best to incite change but to miss something like THAT? I don't buy that Vaggie would have been able to keep that secret so easily if Charlie had been paying as much attention to her partner as any good and healthy relationship should.

But let's backtrack a bit. The notion that Vaggie's off emotionally is established all the way back in episode 3. Remember when Charlie's trying to get the others psyched about trust exercises and Vaggie shows a considerable lack of enthusiasm? What was the first thing out of Charlie's mouth after that? Is it, "hey you seem like you've got something on your mind; are you okay?"

Nope! It's a very embarrassed/annoyed, "Vaggie, we rehearsed this!"

After which she proceeds to blindside Vaggie with the news that she's the one who's going to be leading the trust unit that day. Wow, for all they rehearsed this pitch Vaggie sure seems left out of the loop on it doesn't she? When Vaggie tries to explain without explaining that she's neither qualified nor comfortable about this decision does Charlie say, "well okay then, but if you change your mind just let me know,"? Wrong again! She just says, "It's easy I'm sure you can handle this."

And again, Vaggie is both unprepared and uncomfortable and also unable to say no to Charlie so she defaults into her military training and starts speaking to them like a commanding officer would to their troops. And I don't blame her for that, we tend to fall back on emulating behavior we've seen when we don't know how to cope with something. When trust falls don't work, Charlie tries to retake control but Vaggie puts on a brave face and says she has it when she clearly doesn't. As chaotic shenanigans ensue Vaggie grows more and more desperate but somehow it isn't until she's literally chucking people off a roof that Charlie figures this has gone too far. Not to mention she's incredibly surprised that COMBAT is how Vaggie learned to trust people. Forgive me if I'm wrong but you've been her partner for three years by later admission and you DIDNT know she came from a military background?

Not to mention Vaggie spells it all out in black and white, "I took charge today and it all went sideways. I'm supposed to make your dreams a reality. I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to never fail you" followed by, "If I can't help you, what's the point of me?"

Vaggie has serious issues with self worth, demonstrated here. And while I get Charlie is trying to respect boundaries to a certain point I cannot imagine that were I in her shoes I would leave my partner thinking that if they couldn't be useful they shouldn't be with me. And while to her credit Charlie does apologize, it feels a little pointless when the very next episode she's back to just ignoring what Vaggie says. Even then, that apology doesn't do much to address the real root of the issue. They work as a team? When and where is that EVER demonstrated? It's not a reassurance that Vaggie doesn't NEED to have some demonstrable use for Charlie to want to be with her. And even if it was Vaggie has already struck at the heart of their problem; she wants to be Charlie's armor AND her partner, but those positions cannot work in tandem. Because wanting to be someone's armor assumes they need protecting, and again I state, Charlie is a grown ass woman and one of the most powerful beings in all of hell. She was smart enough to avoid making a deal with Alastor in the pilot, why does Vaggie assume that Charlie NEEDS protecting? And a partner infers a level of equality that just isn't demonstrated in what we see of their relationship. There is no give and take with them supporting each other equally. It's vaggie either trying to draw blood from a stone to meet Charlie's unrealistic expectations, or Vaggie telling Charlie to alter core elements of her personality to appease her own subjects. And on the flip side; where does Charlie support Vaggie in anything resembling the way Vaggie supports Charlie?

Charlie pushed for Vaggie to come to Heaven with her because that was what SHE wanted. Even when Vaggie expressed her reluctance to go Charlie pushed and Vaggie folded even as she knew what ended up happening was a very real possibility. Why?

For all his bloodthirsty nature Alastor knows the political game way better than Vaggie does. Vaggie couldn't keep her shit together when Emily was just holding Charlie's hands and being friendly. That's not the type of partner a political figure should have, and whether she likes it or not as princess of hell Charlie's interwoven with the politics of hell. Being power hungry means Alastor has the genuine best advice for Charlie when it comes to handling bigwigs like the angels. And he's someone with an actual business interest in the hotel. Imagine someone asking him why he helps when he doesn't believe in redemption; and he tells them it's because he believes in Charlie. You don't hand someone the source of most of your power so easily if you do not have a sincere and earnest level of trust in them. And yet Al does it willingly, more than once.

I want to say that I don't hate Charlie or Vaggie. I just don't think they work well as a pairing because Vaggie gives too much and Charlie's more concerned with her people than her partner. And the lack of communication between the two of them is a real issue. Again, Vaggie might never have let Charlie in, but Charlie never thought to knock. She never thought to ask about Vaggie in any way that would suggest the sort of deep emotional love that the show so desperately wants us to believe they have.

And on some level, I think a good portion of the fandom feels it too. Seriously, run the numbers some time on just AO3; filter for the Chaggie tag, and then take out every other ship that those stories are actually about. The chaggie tag is filled with stories that are about someone else's relationship because beneath the surface there's nothing there.

[yuseirra]

Anaylsis on Ai Hoshino's character and speculations of how her relationship with her ex-boyfriend actually went

With the upcoming second season of the Oshi no Ko anime, I think this is a good time for me to write how I feel about this character. The manga seems to be reaching the final arc too, so if I make any guesses, it's probably now or a never thing! I'd like to post this before I get utterly proven wrong and it gets totally useless XD and who knows? Maybe I just may get some things right.

I had a chance to talk about how I felt Ai with @aihoshiino through an ask (their analyses are so good and I'm sure they'll write tons better than what I can offer) and it led me to realize how interesting the character is. So I ended up jotting my thoughts on my own and it became quite long.

This post will touch on how I think Ai's mind worked, and how it may have affected her relationship with her ex. I've been following the recent chapters, and I read up to ch. 152. This means I'm aware of most spoilers, and that this post would be swarming with it! If you're okay with it, please read ahead!

*I originally wrote this in a different language. I'm too tired to write the whole thing over again, so I used DeepL translate! I fixed some nouns that got lost within the translations, so should make sense for the most part. Sorry for the clumsy writing in advance!

While thinking about the recent developments in the onk manga, I noticed some things while listening to the opening of the anime version, so I'll write it down. The other day, I had the opportunity to discuss the characterization and personality development of Ai with someone else, even though it may be brief. There were some things that were notable in the behavior of this character in the novel version as well. I don't know how the story will develop, but from the information I got thus far, I feel I can outline what kind of person she is to some extent.

Ai has a very strong desire for "love" because she's never been loved properly. Rejection from parents in early childhood takes a tremendous toll on a person's development of self-assurance and self-esteem. I'm not an expert so I can't make a professional statement, but I think Ai often resorts fo have an avoidant (withdrawn) attitude. She want to have deep relationships with people, but she doesn't want to reveal their intimate "real" selves to others because she's unsure if she'll be accepted. Self-hatred is a big part of why she keeps it hidden. There's a very selfless reason why Ai decides lie: she does it because everyone likes the pretty, bright, lovable version of her. Ai protects herself by pretending, but they also protect the "outside" from the "ugly" version of her. Everyone prefers Ai to be this invincible idol, and so Ai acts that way because it's the way to contribute to the group and the world around her. In the end, Ai becomes so good at performing this idolized persona to the extent where she shows signs of being broken or disheveled, the others will react "That's not Ai" and deny it. But even though she's initially happy to be loved and accepted and have a place, ultimately that's not the kind of "love" she wants. This character has a very idealized idea of what love is, and she wants that kind of love where you put yourself out there and it's accepted, but when you think about it, it's her parents who should have given her that kind of love. What she wants is the unconditional, the agape type of love, the type she never got that early in her life. In reality, she was actually always getting the love from her fans, and she was giving love in return, whatever form of love it was. It was just that she wasn't sure if it was love at all. That's the sad part about this character, she has a very strong image of what love is, and she's not sure if it's love when it comes to these whole other variety of emotions. That's why she says in her idol songs that she really wants to love her fans, even though she's already doing it… When Ai became a parent and was in the position to give unconditional love, she began to think, "Will I know what love is? (Regardless of whether or not this was to be a wise choice to do this at such a young age, there are definitely people who actually have this sort of mental state. It may not make sense if you look at this character's emotional state and judgment from what's considered as the norm, but this is the flow of her thinking. It's not a healthy state, but it's not fair to just dismiss it as thoughtless, and foolish because this character has never experienced normal love.) However, the "love" she thinks of didn't just happen when she gave birth to and raised her children… Even for her own children, she kept putting on a bright face and couldn't live unadorned… This is how acting (lying) is a form of love for her. She tried so hard all the time. She lived as much as possible to fit in with others. She thinks this is showing consideration for the other person. This is another sad point, because she doesn't realize that when she reveals herself, others will still love her for who she is.

When interpreting the character of Ai, you shouldn't interpret her as someone who is emotionally stable and loved. The MV for the song "Idol" was my first introduction to the work "onk", and the initial feeling I had when I saw it was discomfort. This was because I felt like it was exposing a very vulnerable and precarious psychology of a young child. To compare it to other works, I think it's similar to the psychological state of One Piece's Tot Musica or Fleeting Lullaby, but even more extreme in a way because there's not even a metaphor to cover it up. It's a very honest song, and so I was like, "Is it okay to lay it all out there?" and at the same time, I was like, "This is going to be popular, but do people like stuff like this these days?" because it's about something that pretends to be okay, but it's really not. It's a song about struggles, about trying and trying. This discomfort dies out a bit when you "get used to it", so now I just enjoy the song like the crowd in the song going "Whoa! Whoa!" but the song is too "easy", it's… It's really, really easy to understand, because the lyrics are what it is. You don't even have to scrutinize it to recognize what it says. It's painfully honest.

But when I read the comic, I realized that was the entire point. Ai wanted to be honest, to reveal all of his intimate details, to be accepted, to understand others, to obtain what she thought was a "genuine relationship," and that's why he wrote this song. That's the core of the character. If the core of Aqua's character, which we talked about before (I wrote a different analysis on Aqua once too), is his inability to forgive himself, then the core of Ai's character's motivation is her desire to realize what she thinks is an "ideal form of love."

The problem is that this "lie" as a form of love comes in direct conflict with Ai's idealized notion of "love." After all, in Ai's mind, "true love" should be free of lies. Even when Ai has proposed the idea of lies being a form of love, she didn't even fully believe it herself. Because she kept wearing the mask of an "invincible idol" as an extension of her work, even in her daily life, she wasn't sure whether the love she was giving and receiving was really "love" or not. I think Ai is a character who thinks a lot about these things. This aligns with how celebrities are in real life, too. I realize that there must be many people who think differently from the image they are to be shown in the media.

I think this is what led to the breakup of her relationship with her ex-boyfriend, and I think she was trying to confess all of these feelings in the documentary, and I think it was meant to be a shock to the said character. It's probably going to be something that would hurt her ex-boyfriend in some way. I think this would only work if the boyfriend really loved her. I think she would have had good feelings towards her, love or not on her end as well. It just never came across. Ai's so used to pretending she's okay. She's the type of person who's very secretive and evasive when it comes to deepening a relationship. I think she avoided Kamiki because she thought it would be better for the both of them if she stayed away. On the other hand I think Kamiki would've been very dependent on her, and since this was a relationship he's had when he was very vulnerable and had been through some serious mess, Ai must've been kind of like a lifeline to him. He may have clung to her because she doesn't show her heart very often. Kamiki is an anxious attachment type, but Ai is an avoidant type, and I think that backfired in a very bad way. I don't think Kamiki was able to convince Ai to stay when the breakup happened… I don't know, maybe he was near the hospital when she gave birth because he really wanted to see his kids from a distance, this seems more likely given the how the storyline is going so far.

When Ai says, "I don't know," when Kamiki asks her, "Does Ai love me?" desperate for affection, she's trying to be honest in her own way. She can't simply say "no," to that but she really doesn't know if her feelings for him's really love. She can't lie to herself, so she wants to be honest. (Kamiki would've been so heartbroken, but when you look at the character of Ai, it's surprising to see a relationship without pretense. She wanted to be perfect in every moment, but she wasn't doing that with him.) I believe that Ai may have came to a conclusion that she's never loved anyone, whether towards her fans or to Kamiki, but she wants to "love properly" now. (Now that I think of it, Kana is the polar opposite of Ai. She's very honest and just plain states that she doesn't like her fans that much. It took Ai a really long time to say it, and if Ai was all wrapped up, Kana just went out and blurted it lol… I think that's what makes her so charming.) The song "Idol" was a song that summarizes the whole character of Ai, and I think she wanted to tell everyone that she loved(s) them, just like she could tell her children at the very end of the song.

She didn't want to get back together with her ex because she wanted to continue being an idol. She couldn't have a public relationship. But I think she wanted to show her kids to him because she gained a little bit of courage while raising them. That she could show her real self. When you look at a Ai, you can infer she has a lot welled up. They had always hidden themselves, and now they have "secrets" that are not just their own, living, that grow with time. She's always had vicious circle that led to self-hatred from all the lies she'd been creating, which led to anger and stress…and it was this close to being let out through the movie. Maybe that's why Aqua believes making movies is for her. It's to fulfill her desire to be freed from the lies.

When it comes to whether she loved Kamiki as much as the children or as much as Kamiki craved from her, it's hard to say for now. However, I've always noticed how Ai, who is very careful and cautious when it came to keeping her image, was willing gave her address and tried to show her children to him. That means she thought him as someone who she could trust. I thought that the ex must have liked Ai because they had a positive effect on her after their meeting. Considering their age, it is likely a case of two children who were unprotected and emotionally vulnerable and became close by relying on each other. I'm sure there were to be some type of bond at least.

It's all a matter of speculation, but Ai's method of "caring" usually boils down in ways that the other person has no idea about how Ai herself feels and her circumstances. I think that's what happened in her relationship with her boyfriend. She's like the rabbit doll in the beginning of Mephisto, with her colleagues in IDOL going "You're great! You're never sad or angry!". Everyone around her ends up adoring and blaming her like an object to project upon, without having to think about how Ai feels inside. I think the 15 year-lie would have acted as a confession of that situation, with the message being:

Isn't it possible that she cut him off unilaterally to "protect him from herself," and then when there were signs that things were stabilizing over time, through the children, the president, and the fans, she took the time to call him back when she could, for it to have ended up like this? It's possible that Ai seemed to be so unmoved that her potential feelings didn't resonate with the other party, who felt betrayed at the time because she seemed so cold and distant. Ai doesn't like herself, and may have decided it's better for her to leave. She may have thought that Kamiki's obsession with her was bad for himself, or with him being so driven to the point where he thought that she was all he had. At that point Ai didn't believe she knew love, so she thought he'd be disappointed later. This is only a speculation but Kamiki could've wanted to take responsibility for the children if he knew, but it was Ai who thought it'd better for her to carry all everything and go her separate ways, because if she kept her mouth shut and kept it a secret, it wouldn't hurt him… and it's a child she wanted to have (and if this were to be the case, Kamiki's own wishes probably were never taken into consideration at all). Surprisingly, Kamiki may have feelings of affection for the children he had with Ai. He's never come to met them, but that could be because Ai told him not to. He complimented how Ruby grew up to be so beautiful resembling both him and Ai, that'd mean he must still like her, right? He has a love-hate relationship with Ai, but he's never harmed or came into close contact with either of his children until they were grown up. Could it be that Ai told him to stay away from her when they had the breakup?(And then she calls him up years later and asks if he wants to see the kids, unintentionally driving him insane)

"I've been lying about loving you all this time, and I don't want to do that anymore. Now I'm really going to tell you what's on my mind, and we're going to start over. We're going to build a relationship from the ground."Something like this? Something like this would be best.

If it's something like this, it'll be a blow to Kamiki. It'll be the same as Ryosuke, because he'll realize that he's the one who stabbed the hand that held out to love him and killed it, and he'll never be able to have that love again. It'll be revenge to realize that.

I can be wrong, but… But I still think there was something Ai would've wanted to convey to kamiki through that movie.

Ryosuke is a scumbag, and if Ai's meant what she said to them, I think it would be more of a statement towards all the fans who loved him than it was about him. Kamiki, if he really did instigate Ai's death, also needs to be punished for his respective crimes. Ai contributed to a part of his misery maybe, but… she's never actively harmed anyone. She may have hurt people's feelings, but she never did anything to deserve to die like this, and I don't think it should have happened, no matter what. It's a stalking and killing crime. I think Ai's life was very lonely, but I think she kept reaching out and trying within her limits. I hope all children grow up to be loved. The idea of love took over "Ai's" life, and I think she lived up to her name.

Beyond this are some more speculation, though it's likely to be more off than the stuff above.

For now, that's how I feel about this character.

I don't think Kamiki would have taken it that way, though. it was twisted, in more ways than one.

+ I think the Ai's feelings for Kamiki were… I think she's liked Kamiki quite a bit. Whether it was love is ambiguous. I don't think she would have been able to say for sure that she loved anyone at that point. This character hasn't been taught what love is, so her ideas of theoretical love, and the barriers to it are pretty high. Ai would've been confused going "Oh, is this what love is?" even if it's a level of emotion that most would consider to be love. What they had between them seems like something that could have been love, but never really came to a conclusion. In fact, the contradiction of Ai's character is that she wants to love, but blocks deep feelings for fear of being hurt. I think it would have been difficult for her to love him like she did for her own children, with whom she has an unconditional connection through blood…it would have been impossible for her at that time.

This is completely speculative, but I wonder if when she found out she was pregnant, she hid it, called it quits, and disappeared, because she felt like it would be a burden for him to know, and she thought she could handle it all on her own. She didn't ask for any help, and she didn't ask for anything when she agreed to keep the baby. Kamiki somehow found out and came to the birth and sees it from afar. Ryosuke runs away because he killed someone, but this character didn't do anything harmful to Ai that day. On the contrary, Kamiki may have been subconsciously been influenced by the person who exploited him. He may not have hated the children Ai had with him as much because he saw them as his connection to her. Perhaps after having seen her loving her children he had with her, raising them well, he had hopes that maybe she could get back together with him someday, and maybe she even cared about him a little bit. After he got that call from her, however, he realized that she needed the children but not him, and he despaired that there was no place for him in his life to begin with. Kamiki may not have any hard feelings toward his children. Rather, there might be some kind of inner affection he holds towards them proving as evidence that there was still a relationship between him and Ai; and that's why he sponsored the movie?

As for Ai, It would have been hard for Ai to truly love the children of a man she didn't even like, but there are no signs of that with her, either.. I don't think she broke up with him because she didn't like him. If you look at the phone scene, you get the impression that Ai broke up with him in a pretty casual way, there was a level of willingness to talk to him again and keep in touch and build a relationship from the beginning. This is a big deal coming from Ai because she has little to no friends and only a limited number of people with whom she's had a deep relationship. She's still wanted to form some kind of relationship with her ex-boyfriend, and here we can infer that Kamiki is a pretty important relationship for her. From her point of view, there was room for the future in that relationship. I think she was thinking about starting over with a more authentic relationship with her fans and with her ex-boyfriend. As she grew to love her children, she was subconsciously preparing herself to do so.

By the way, is it really true that Kamiki has been committing murders all this time? I think it could be a huge detriment to the manga's completeness and immersion to reveal the real culprit was someone entirely different at the very end, but we've never seen this character directly do anything, so I think it would be a good idea for the author to bring a twist the plot. It could be just that he feels responsible or guilty because he couldn't stop what's happened… He might actually be someone like Aqua who feels intense guilt for something he wasn't responsible for (I say this is like a 5% chance). Ryosuke is a stalker, so it's possible that he stalked Ai for four years and found out her address on his own. In the case of the actor, it's also possible that Kamiki's warned her to be careful beforehand, but she died anyway, so he's self-loathing saying it's all because of him. If you look closely, he seems to be blaming himself, so he keeps repeating the phrase "because of me." Did he actually kill her? This could be a narrative trick. You see how he's had a terrible past. Himekawa and Uehara may not have been the only ones that died around him, maybe he's cursed? Maybe there's a god that makes people with great talent in the arts unhappy… Anyone would have been suspicious if people around Kamiki kept dying in the first place, but Akane, who did the background check on Kamiki, didn't suspect anything like that, did she? It's never revealed in the story if he killed people, and if so, how many. People just come to infer "oh, he's a psychopathic killer" but just how much of it's right? We'll get to see that soon, I guess.

++Lying is also a keyword that's constantly stressed.

Like I said, I don't think it's very likely… Now that I think about it, the bouquet is a possible connection to Ryosuke. However, he may be less guilty than we thought. If it's true that he's killed other celebrities, the most intuitive reason I can think of is that he didn't want anyone to shine more than Ai's ever did. But what good does that do? What exactly does it mean to this character to feel the weight of his life? :/ Is it actually a positive thing for him, does he want to have a heavy life, does he want to do anything with it? This is something I can't say until the author explains it, because I don't have any information. There is also the matter of God in this story, but I don't know that'd get tied it into the the plot even though the manga is nearing the end. Ai and Kamiki are supposed to be characters who are connected to the gods, probably but I can't make any guesses. I was more confident about the psychological analyses than my plot predictions.

Isn't "15-year old lie two things? Ai lied to her fans that she loved them, and she lied to her boyfriend that she couldn't love him even though she had feelings for him. She told two lies about love, and now she's spilling the beans and saying, as she said before, that she wants to try to love again with her true heart.

The song "Idol" is what summarizes the whole storyline. If there is a lie that can be maintained for 15 years, I think it would be this.

In that case, assuming that the boyfriend loved the child, it would definitely be revenge from Aqua's point of view and give Ai what she's wanted… After all, Ai's narrative is a journey of a child trying to be true.

[masterhallmark]

Rant incoming

I feel like the problem with a lot of Disney's live action remakes (and arguably Wish) is they're trying to appeal to a crowd that no longer exists, namely the people who used to claim that the Disney Princesses were sexist.

All the interviews tend to include, "Well she's not chasing a MAN anymore" which...almost no one sees the princesses like that, anymore. Virtually NO ONE still believes the princesses are man-chasing sexist caricatures of women.

Cinderella is now hailed as an abuse victim who stayed strong long enough to get help to get out of her situation. Anyone who says she should have saved herself is basically regarded as a victim blamer. And it's very clear in the film she wasn't looking to marry the prince, she just wanted a night off. She was the only one who wasn't in line to meet him. She didn't find out she met the prince until he went looking for her!

Snow White is now hailed for her negotiation skills, ability to calm down after extreme stress (she had a moment of panic and had to cry for a bit, but who wouldn't after finding out The Queen hired someone to kill you?), and ability to take charge of a house of adult men. And again, she was an abuse victim, this time trying to escape ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. While she dreamed of her prince, it was secondary to her main goal of SURVIVAL. There are also entire video essays about how Snow White gave hope to people during The Great Depression.

Everyone acknowledges that Ariel wanted to be human BEFORE meeting Eric. We all know she was a nerd hyperfixating on humans, and also standing up to her prejudiced father.

We understand Sleeping Beauty wasn't the main character, the Three Good Fairies were, AND PHILLIP WOULD NEVER HAVE BEATEN MALEFICENT WITHOUT THEM! He literally depended on them! WOMEN SAVED THE DAY! But even then, is it really such a sin for a girl to fantasize about romance and fall for someone with corny pickup lines?

We all understand Jasmine just wanted someone to treat her LIKE A PERSON. She rejected every Prince before Aladdin because they treated her like a prize. So why did they need her to want to be Sultan? How did that make her more feminist when she already wanted to be treated like an equal and have a say in her future? Is it only empowering if you want a career in politics?

We admire that Belle, despite living in a judgemental village, was kind to everyone (even though she found the village life dull), and her story teaches girls that the guy everyone else loves isn't always a good guy. What's sexist about teaching girls about red flags? And she didn't start being nice to The Beast until he started treating her with respect and kindness.

Do I really NEED to defend Mulan or Tiana? I think they speak for themselves.

Rapunzel was yet another abuse victim who just needed a little help to get out of her bad situation. In this case, she also needed to learn that she was an abuse victim, and that what Mother Gothel did WASN'T normal, much like many victims of gaslighting.

And don't get me started on the non-princess animals.

Perdita had a healthy relationship with Pongo to the point she was open to express her pregnancy fears to him, and was ready to TEAR APART Cruella's goons for daring to touch her puppies as well as adopting the other puppies. Like, she was so ferocious the goons mistook her for a hyena! She's basically that "I AM THAT GIRL'S MOTHER!" scene from SpyXFamily if Yor were a dog. She and her husband were a TEAM.....but they made a Cruella live action to turn her into a girlboss?! The literal animal abuser!? THAT'S the woman you wanted to put on a pedestal when Perdita was RIGHT THERE!?

Duchess kept her kittens calm after they had been catnapped and was classy as heck. Nice to everyone regardless of social class during a time period where that was uncommon.

Lady stood up to Tramp when she believed he had abandoned her and didn't really care about her. She found out he was a heartbreaker and was like, "Nuh uh. No. You are not doing that to me! You put me through enough."

Miss Bianca from The Rescuers was IN CHARGE the whole movie, and was willing to risk life and limb to save an innocent child. THAT TINY MOUSE TOOK ON ALLIGATORS! And she picked Bernard to accompany her because he was the only one who wasn't ogling her. And then in the sequel SHE DID IT ALL AGAIN! I wish I were as brave as her.

Like, the public haven't accused these ladies of being sexist caricatures since 2014 (Actresses and actors don't count, they're out of touch like the rest of Hollywood) yet Disney is operating under the assumption that the public still thinks that way, hence all the "sHe'S nOt AfTeR a MaN iN ThIs VeRsIOn" talk.

The live action remakes are trying to attract an audience that doesn't really exist much, anymore, and back when it did exist, was comprised mainly of people who didn't actually watch the films. The Disney princesses are no longer seen as sexist, and feminine qualities are no longer seen as weak or undesirable.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)

Word count: 2.3k

Ow.

You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.

But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.

And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.

So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.

Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.

But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.

In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.

You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.

“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”

“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”

“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”

You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.

“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”

You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.

Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.

Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.

Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.

"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"

Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."

"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."

You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.

He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."

Ashley's face goes blank.

"I told you I would be home late."

“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”

“Yeah, at work.”

“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”

“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”

He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.

“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”

“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”

Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.

“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”

“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”

“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.

“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”

“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."

Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.

As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"

"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."

You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"

"What?"

"Thanks, you too!"

You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).

By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.

He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”

"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."

Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."

"I'm sorry—"

"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"

"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."

Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."

You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."

"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"

"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"

"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."

"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"

"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.

"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."

"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"

Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"

"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.

"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."

"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"

"I can still give you one," you offer.

"Maybe later."

He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.

You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.

You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.

"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.

"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"

"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."

"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"

"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"

"You're the injured one. What do you want?"

"I want whatever you want."

You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."

"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."

"Chinese?"

"You got it."

Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.

Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"

You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."

"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"

"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."

DC taglist:

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts

Forever taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[norrisleclercf1]

Since you wanted more Lando requests 🙊

Could you maybe write something about her surprising Lando by adopting the puppy that chose Lando as a nap spot during the Battersea video? 🥺

A/N: Lando would dieeee

"Thank you so much for doing this," You giggle grabbing the puppy happily and holding it close as it just whined a little bit before settling down, snuggling close. "Ugh, adorable, do he have a name?" The nice lady smiles and nods her head no.

"No, they're young, we just gave them certain collard colors," She says and reaches over and rubs the little one's head. You smile happily and bounce the little one who yawns and paws your fingers. "Such a cutie, going to have to name you," You mumble as you load everything up.

"He's going to Monaco, yes?" You turn placing him in his carrier as you only flew from Monaco to pick up this little baby. "He is, I'm getting him for Lando Norris," The woman's face lights up, "Oh, Lando, the baby here loved him so much and we really tried to convince him, but he said it wouldn't be smart with him traveling so much and said he would need a girlfriend," She eyes you and you smile.

"Yeah, he lies about that part, he couldn't shup up about the dog when he got home, he's been staring at the adoption page for days," The woman smiles, "yeah people tend to think they pick the animal, but really the animal picks the person," You nod as you move hugging her. "Thank you,"

----------------------------------

Lando sighs loudly, staring at his phone as Oscar rolls his eyes and snatches his phone. "What the hell are you sighing at?" and looks at the phone and stares at the little puppy that says adopted. "Oh, I'm sorry man, but hey at least the puppy probably went to a good home," Oscar says and hands the phone back as their lunch arrives.

"Yeah, just, I really liked him, even picked out a name an all," He mumbles staring at the photo before clicking his phone off, thanking the waitress. "You picked out a name for a puppy you don't even own?" Lando sulks and pushes around his fancy, healthy salad grumbling as Oscar bites into salmon happily.

"Spots," Oscar freezes halfway through a bite and stars at Lando. "Spots? You were going to name the dog....Spots?" Lando nods, "Yeah it's a normal dog name and the dog had spots," He shrugs eating his salad sadly. "You're weird," Oscar giggles and Lando just smiles taking another bite smiling brightly.

----------------------------------------

"Home!" Lando calls and slides his shoes off sighing and trudging into the living room eyes half closed and falls face first into the couch, and groans into a pillow. He hears your feet but doesn't move just wallowing in despair at his puppy being adopted.

Lando groans feeling something wet touch his face and turns opening his eyes and blinks slowly. "Spots?" The dog moves and slowly licks his face and Lando shoots up. "Spots!" He gently picks up the dog and holds him close as the dog yet again quickly settles in his arms.

Your boyfriend looks up, stars in his eyes and moves kissing you softly. "You adopted him for me?" Lando asks and you nod your head. "Yeah, I watched you fall in love, and you've had his adoption page saved on your phone for weeks," You explain and Lando squeals and holds the puppy up to his face. "Hello, my baby Spots," Lando giggles and lowers him back down cradling him to his chest.

"Come on, let me show you where you'll sleep," You roll your eyes, knowing that dog was going to sleep in your bed.

[inkskinned]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗜𝗔

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N has suffered with an eating disorder for years, but lately, - because of the some "fans" and social media - her insecurities have been taking her to a more than dangerous path, which she couldn't get out without help.

WARNING: anorex!a, eating disorder, comparison, self sabotage, self hatred, panic attack, pure angst... PLEASE read with caution!

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Atelophobia; the fear of not being good enough.

This was one of the millions of fears and problems that haunted Y/N's mind. Her head convinced her a long time ago that she simply wasn't enough; for her school teachers, for her classmates, for her friends, for her parents, past boyfriends... not even for herself.

This led her to listen to what others said and thought about herself since she was very young, the desire to be perfect and within society's standards in all aspects of a human being consumed her; personality, thoughts, knowledge... body.

She was told all the time how she should behave, act, and be. She was just a child, but that didn't seem to matter to those who did it, clogging her up with responsibilities and comparisons.

One thing led to another. Her desperation to be the best at everything started to include her own body. "Fat" was the first word people used to describe her. She had no control over the situations around her, but she had control over her weight.

Y/N was always the biggest girl in her class, and her classmates seemed to love reminding her of that; often being excluded from work groups, forgotten in groups of friends, or not chosen in any team during Physical Education classes.

Until the year when everything changed. During the school vacation, she decided to change, intending to return to school as a new girl. The new cycle started well, Y/N saw a nutritionist, cutting out all fatty foods from her routine and consuming only healthy ones. She started going to the gym daily, doing the recommended training time. All of this led her to lose a significant amount of weight.

Soon, the vacation was over, and with that, the negative comments from her classmates were replaced by positive comments. Girls asking what she had done to lose weight like that, searching for advice and seeing her as a miracle. Boys saying how changed and prettier she looked.

How could she not fall in love with her own illness?

So, that made her feel good. Too good... her mind began to yearn to become thinner, more beautiful, just to hear more from others. And then the healthy diet and the one hour training at the gym were no longer enough for her. She needed more if she wanted to be better.

Y/N then intensified her training, staying at the gym for 2 hours per day, doing more reps with more weight. She crossed out several foods from the list of permitted that her nutritionist had made, choosing for herself the ones she thought were ideal, until it had almost nothing left.

Her brain self-sabotaged so that she wouldn't go out with her friends, because they would definitely want to eat somewhere and she wouldn't be able to.

She no longer participated in family dinners, creating excuses so as not to be forced to sit at the table and eat.

Her mind convinced her that she wasn't thin enough to satisfy her boyfriends' sexual and non-sexual desires, which made her pull away during or at the beginning of any relationship she had until the guy got tired, or she simply ended it.

She spent hours on the internet, searching for sensational diets that reduced daily calories to 500 or less, promising extraordinary weight loss. In addition to getting on the scale at least 4 times a day, hoping for a miracle every time she looked at the numbers.

Y/N replaced her eating schedules with random hobbies like drawing, learning a new instrument, or picking flowers from her garden to make flower crowns, occupying her time and mind.

Some things scared her, her period hadn't come in months, clumps of hair fell out every time she ran her hands through it. Her vision went dark at least 3 times a day. Her body shivered from the complete cold of her insides, and her stomach hurt more than usual.

But she had to suffer them alone since she had no one to talk to about, always alone.

Until Y/N met Matt.

Matt was the boy who made her want to get better. He encouraged her to look for a hospital that fit her preferences, where Y/N finally began to receive psychiatric and psychological care.

Her diet changed for the better, into foods that Y/N saw as safe. She did not abandon the gym but reduced the weight and time, maintaining her training just for the health of her muscles, as she had lost a lot of lean mass during her worst moment.

The calculator in her head finally stopped. Her eyes started seeing food as just food and not as the enemy. Her stomach craved for all the snacks she loved, and she finally ate them, without feeling guilty.

Matt was so thoughtful about her entire situation, having suffered himself with extreme anxiety from a young age. He could tell he understood in parts what it was like to live with a mental illness.

So he helped her maintain her healthy diet and eat all her daily meals within her limit - often opting to eat together in their room, since he knew the trepidation Y/N still felt about doing it in front of other people.

Matt praised her in every possible situation, trying not to be extreme but to show his intense love and support for the girl. All of that was helping her a lot.

Until it wasn't.

Y/N and Matt never hid their relationship from the public, the girl knew how famous her boyfriend was and how difficult it could be to keep their relationship hidden, they would be seen together at one time or another.

So it wasn't surprising that the girl appeared in some of the triplets' pictures sometimes, and that's what happened that Friday.

As usual, Nick posted a photo dump on the triplets Instagram to promote the publication of their new car video, and one of the photos was of Matt and Y/N, specifically one in which the two were sitting on the couch in their living room, the girl had her legs draped over Matt's thighs, while his tattooed arm wrapped tightly around her waist, huge smiles decorating their faces.

It was a cute photo, but apparently, that wasn't what fans thought.

While Matt and his brothers were in the kitchen, preparing healthy snacks - a habit they built through the girl, but which in the end helped everyone -, Y/N was lying on her bed in the room she shared with Matt, wrapped in too-warm covers, holding her phone with her right hand while her left hand wrapped around her stomach in an almost painful grip.

Her thumb scrolled through the comments screen beneath the post. Almost everyone there talking about her picture with Matt.

"Matt can do so much better than her"

"I really don't know what he saw in her"

"She's going to end up crushing him like that"

"I'll pay for the gym for her if that's the price for Matt to have a worthy girlfriend"

And so on, it was as if they knew all of Y/N's weaknesses.

Some fans of them could be cruel when they wanted to, and Y/N knew this by heart since seeing Nick crying several times because he was body shamed, or when she noticed Chris being quieter than usual after reading comments saying how loud he was and how that was unbearable.

Her heart was crushed every time she saw Matt suffer in silence until he couldn't hold it in any longer and finally cried in her lap for hours after reading people saying how insignificant and quiet he was in the videos.

Even though a huge mass of the fandom loved them with all their hearts and took care of them as much as the distance of a phone screen allowed, it still wasn't enough to swallow the hate comments.

But when it came to Y/N, more than half of the fandom turned against her. Maybe out of envy, but it was obvious that the girl didn't see it that way. She was convinced that they were right.

Her heart tightened as if someone was crushing it with their bare hands. The air seemed to escape her lungs, and the lunch she ate hours before seemed to want to go up her throat. Her fingers trembled as she held her stomach, feeling everything she had and didn't have there. Her eyes began to water, her lips quivering from the tears that wanted to escape.

Y/N quickly moved her finger to the back button, hoping to break out of the horrible cycle she was about to enter. A loud sob escaped her lips when, upon finally leaving the post, her feed reloaded, and a picture of a model that Y/N followed and admired appeared.

Comparison was her biggest enemy.

Negative thoughts about herself began to pollute her mind, everything around her becoming a fog. The sounds coming from the kitchen became muffled to her ears. Y/N's right hand - which was holding her phone - was gripping the device in such a way that her fingers turned white. Painful sobs escaped her mouth as her eyes remained fixed on the woman's perfect figure.

Why can't I be like her?

The longing for the sensations she felt when she starved hit her chest hard. The desire to want to be as thin as before - or more - filled her.

It didn't take long, and soon, the bedroom door was slowly opened, Matt's silhouette appearing behind it. His face was lit up with a smile - probably because of some joke his brothers made - while his right hand held a plate with two sandwiches.

His cheerful expression was replaced by a frown of concern. Matt quickly closed the door with his feet, walking towards the bed, haphazardly placing the plate on the nearest bedside table before sitting down on the mattress.

His hands flew to Y/N's waist, stopping over her own hand that was squeezing her skin with a force that was sure to leave it bruised.

The girl seemed to wake up from her trance, lifting her head and meeting Matt's calming - but worried - gaze. She cried harder as she imagined what her boyfriend would be thinking of her now.

Automatically, her mind started to play her current state, messy hair, swollen and red face, skin wet with tears, eyes half closed and mouth open, allowing sobs to escape from there.

"M-Matt-" Her sentence was cut off by a sob, her eyes closing tightly.

Matt took a deep breath, trying to process what to do next. His left hand - the one that didn't cover hers - slowly took the phone, taking it out of his girl's death grip. He glanced briefly at the screen, automatically understanding what was happening before locking it and putting the device aside.

He moved his body so that it was closer to hers, resting his hand on her spine and guiding her until she laid her head on his chest, caressing the area below his fingers.

Matt felt his heart break with every tremble that rocked the body beneath his caused by the sobs. If he could take that pain away from his girlfriend, he would.

"It's okay, baby, let it out. I'm right here." He cooed, his fingers caressed the tangled strands of her hair lightly, stroking the area while moving his upper body back and forth, slowly calming his girlfriend.

"Ma-Matty-" Y/N's voice was weak, wobbly from the pain in her heart.

Matt removed his hand from hers for a few seconds, stretching it to the bedside table - where the plate was -, taking the bottle of water that Y/N always filled before going to sleep. He opened the lid in one quick movement, bringing it close to his girl's face.

"Come on, my love. Sit down for a moment and take a sip of water. Please." The boy asked in a soft voice, helping Y/N straighten her posture before bringing the bottle closer to her lips, helping her take a few small sips of the contents.

He closed the bottle after making sure she was satisfied, placing it on the mattress before turning his attention to Y/N again. He brushed away the strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear.

"What if they're right?" She asked in a whisper, catching her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to keep from crying.

"No, they aren't." Matt's tone was convincing, as if he was absolutely sure of what he was saying. "You are not worse than others because of your weight. You look great as you are. Your body is perfect, do you know why? Because he's healthy enough to carry you around and take care of you." The boy held her hands lightly, stroking the back of her fingers gently as he looked into her eyes. "The recovery journey is not easy, I remember the words your psychologist said to me when we had that session together. I imagine your head when you see clothes getting tighter, and these comments certainly make you want to give up, I know you, baby."

He paused momentarily, watching her reactions carefully.

Y/N knew that, recovery was hard work. Not wanting to die was hard work.

"Recovery is not a race. You don't have to feel guilty about taking less or more time than you originally thought or having relapses from time to time. This is part of the process, and I want you to understand this. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life. When I look at the most beautiful things, I remember you. In the pink tulips of the flower shop across the street, in the Cassiopeia constellation, in the bees that fly in our garden and in the greenest tree I have ever seen." Y/N let out a tearful laugh when she heard him mention the tree, knowing his immense love for nature. "Because you're pretty like them."

"I-I'm sorry." The girl whispered, sniffling then lowering her gaze in shame. "I... I saw the photos that Nick posted, and there were comments..." She shook her head, closing her eyes tightly.

"Oh baby." He leaned slightly over Y/N, sealing his lips over her warm forehead. "If you want to apologize, let me do it. If you went through this now, it was because of me."

"No, Matt. It was never and will never be your fault." Y/N shook her head, wiping her eyes momentarily with the sleeve of her - his - hoodie, sniffling slightly before taking one of Matt's hands, intertwining their fingers. "You don't control people, much less through the internet. They will always talk a lot because they are behind a screen that protects them, but that will never be your fault. I would rather go through this a thousand times and have you with me than never have you again."

"I understand." He paused momentarily. "Please, don't let it get to that point again while you're alone. If you see something that upsets you or makes you feel bad, turn it off instantly and call me. I want to be there to help you. I want to be there for you." The brunette asked, staring at her eyes.

Y/N sighed, nodding her head and leaning slightly closer to him, resting her forehead on Matt's shoulder, exhaling the softening scent and perfume that exuded from the fabric of the hoddie on his body.

Her eyes burned from the tears she shed, closing them tightly to prevent more from falling, her heart still feeling sore from everything.

"If you want, we can contact that psychologist again, the one who helped you throughout the process at the hospital." Matt lowered his head, bringing his face closer to the back of Y/N's head, pressing his lips against his girl's hair, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth of her body close to his. "I want to attend some sessions just like we did last time, so I understand how I can help you this time."

Y/N felt her heart warm instantly, her free hand snaking to Matt's thigh closest to her, stroking the covered skin lightly.

"Okay."

Matt loved Y/N more than he loved himself, and he would make sure that she understood that she wasn't alone anymore.

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[pia-nor481]

I can do it better

Max verstappen x reader smut 18+

3.6k words

She was sat on their-her bedroom floor trying to recollect herself when a loud knock to the front door broke her out of the state she was in. Her eyes were red and cheeks painted with tears. Hoping that the knocking would stop she continued to stare at herself in the full length mirror opposite her hunched over body. Evidently, it didn't stop, she practically shouted the person behind the door to wait a minute. In the mean time, she stumbled up, pulling a shirt over her body and rushing to the bathroom, in hope of cold water freshening her face up; Although it was hard to look presentable at this given time. She could barely stay up her two feet while walking towards the front door. She didn't know where her things were, phone definitely blowing up with her friends asking how her night went, even if they got a hold of her, she wouldn't answer, they'd had enough of her complaints of her love life.

Once she reached the door handle, she opened it a crack, trying to avoid her body being seen. "Sorry to just turn up but my flight leaves tomorrow and you weren't answering, and need some of my stuff before I go." Max was a pretty observant person, he had to be; so nothing slipped past him. "You open the door like this for all the men who knock?" He joked lightly, knowing she often took what he said in jest. He looked back up to her face when there was no further comment. "No, what's up? I can tell something is wrong." He said letting himself into her flat, placing his keys and phone on the counter next to hers, he saw the ample amount of WhatsApp notifications. "Come on, you can tell me what happened." It was so obvious that max still cared for her. Their relationship was always messy. They fought constantly, it started as little things; the floors not being cleaned properly or a few things left in awkward or annoying places. Both of their friends said it was good that they were fighting about things like that, claiming it was healthy to have small bits of conflict that could be quickly resolved. But it soon became a big problem when carer got involved, he was always traveling whether it be for the actual race, England to help with development of the car, or visiting his home to see his parents or even Monaco to be with his friends, but her job required her to be in one place. They tried hard to make it work, she book flights to come and see some of his races or he would stay until Wednesday night of the race week just to spend time with her, but it just wasn't enough.

There had been a few times were Max had heard her on the phone with her friends trying to convince her to break up with him, but every time she would shut them own. "He's toxic, leave him before it gets worse. There can't be anything that makes it worth the stress and disappointment." She would shake her head before remembering that they couldn't see her that's one thing Max really enjoyed, her tendency to show rather than speak. "If he's toxic, I'll wear a hazmat. You don't get it, I love him." Hearing her say things like that always made him smile. He loved her just as much, if not more. Every time he'd come back he would spend all his time awake comforting her, making her feel secure. She wasn't overly talkative when being asked questions, preferring to just shake her head or even pretend she didn't hear it; but not with max. He tried to make sure she would communicate with him, even when they fought, he'd let her scream and shout at him, he wanted to hear everything she had to say, so he knew how she felt, so he could help, He didn't get the luxury of expression when he was younger and that caused many problems. He learnt from this, he learned how to be better, he learned how to love. Max loved, no, loves her so much; it was hard for him to put it into words sometimes, she knew this, and was okay with him showing his love physically. That may have been a part of the problem, they were never close enough for him to show her how much he loved her. Although he is not the only one to blame, she was stubborn, overly so. She hated being wrong and so did he. So Max tried his hardest to not condescend her when she was wrong, but that wasn't often.

"Come on." He had to bite back the pet names he gave her in the years they spent together. "You can tell me what happened." She also hated voicing her concerns with him. She never worried about cheating, Max would never. It was like she felt neglected, but she couldn't say that, it was selfish, she was the one who said they could make the distance work. As max looked around the room he noticed how empty it was. With all of his things gone it didn't feel like home to her anymore. His house in Monaco didn't feel like home either, not without her. She looked up from her feet to meet his eyes. "It's embarrassing." His shoulders dropped, she was stupid sometimes, she didn't realised how silly that sounded to him. "And I've known you for how long?" He paused walking back towards her, resisting the urge to hold her close, to pull her into his chest and cradle her head. "At least it wasn't someone else's fault." he said slightly relieved, her eyes were still a cause for concern, even now he was prepared to fix any problem she had. The silence was loud, his anger pooled at his fists. "Right?" His eyes scanned over her whole body, making sure she wasn't hurt. "Its stupid, and I'm fine by the way. Can't you just grab your stuff and go?" she asked, almost pleading for him to leave. He was not going to leave her alone, not when she was like this.

Max went against his better judgement and hugged her, she needed it, no matter how many times she wanted to be left completely alone. "Tell me. You always feel better when you say what you're thinking, not just shouting at the mirror." She was almost reduced to tears, not only because of his words, but because she was so embarrassed. "Promise you wont laugh." She whispered through teary eyes. "Promise." He pulled his chest away, so he could look her in the eyes as she spoke. He wanted her to feel listened to, cared for. "So my friends set me up with his guy called Matthew, right." Any remaining anger turned into jealousy. He was fuming that his girl was going on a date with some guy. He pushed his feelings aside briefly, wanting to hear the rest of her story. "Well, we went out to this pretty nice place and it was going well, at least I thought so. Anyway, we came back here and he started kiss me, and you feel me up and stuff." She really didn't want to give her ex-boyfriend the details of her hook up. She paused still embarrassed. "Was he blonde and foreign as well?" Her face became warm as he let out a chuckle, this actually comforted him a bit, to see her go out with guys that reminded her of him. "Glad to see you have a type." She gave him a pointed look as an initial response. "Sorry, go on." Shifting her feet to avoid the shame. Max gave her sweet look, enticing her to speak. "When we, um, went to bed it was, uh, fine to start with but you know, he couldn't make me cum, it didn't seem like he was even trying." Her voice was shaky, her nerves were sky high, but she continued because, for once, Max was right. "So I may or may not have sent him out of the flat." She says with as sigh, looking up at her and grasping his arm for a bit of support ,not physical, but emotional, he was comforting to touch. "I am so glad I was your boyfriend and knew how to actually please you or I don't think we would have lasted as long as we did." He spoke with a crooked smile, ready of a light slap to his chest. "It's not funny Max." defeated, her shoulders slumped slightly as she tried to pull out of his tight grasp. "It is a little bit, oh no, please don't give me that look. I'm sorry I swear."

"So let me get this straight, you wanted to hook up with this guy, Matthew, and he was being a selfish prick, and now you are all desperate and pent up. That I can defiantly work with." Confusion covered her face as Max picked her up by her waist and began walking them towards the bedroom. She hooked her legs around his hips during his venture. She would often scold him for doing things without warning or saying things that he shouldn't. She began to kiss his neck, wanting his attention back on her. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she would worry about the consequences later. One of his hands slid down her back, giving her ass a nice squeeze, he knew she liked it, not that she'd say so, he had to figure that out for himself.

Once his knees touched the edge of the bed, he placed her on it, immediately pushing her shirt up, "No underwear as well, you really do treat the guys at your door well." He let out with a smirk, before pushing her thighs apart further so he could slot between them. The ghost of his breath had her shuddering, she moaned when his lips finally touched her cunt, tongue licking a long stripe over her slit. Max looked up, not even being able to see her face as her head was thrown back at the slightest amount of pleasure. She really needed to feel him. He began to suck on her clit lightly, not wanting to rush into it and run the risk of ruining her orgasm, it hurt him to make her wait any longer, knowing she had spent so much time dissatisfied. Max shook his head side to side sending waves of bliss through her whole body.

Max got good at eating pussy from practicing on her. There were times where he spent more time between her legs than not. Her moans got louder as max put more pressure on her clit, heightening the sensation. "Could he not do this to you? No? That's what I thought." He breathed against her cunt, making her hips shift towards him. Max pulled her knees over his shoulders as he went back in, the noises that filled the room were quickly becoming pornographic. He could feel her twitching and clenching as he ate her out, Max moaned at the feeling, knowing it would tip her over the edge. "Yes, Max. Please, it feels so good." She barely got out, lungs burning. As she began gasping for air, Max could feel her ankles cross behind his back, squishing his head between her thighs. She came hard, harder than she'd done since the last time they were together. No matter who she slept with, no matter how many times she made herself cum it was never the same. "Did that feel good? Was that better than Matthew? Yeah, I know it is."

She pushed Max back slightly so she could slip off the bed and on to her knees. She undid his belt as quick as her shaky hands would allow her.  She squeezed him lightly and ran her hand over his cock a few times before actually pulling it out, she licked a long stripe along the underside, right along the thick vein of his length. Max let out a breathy groan as she took his entire cock in her mouth, reaching down her throat. His hands quickly found her hair and made pace in tangling them. He guided her up and down his cock watching from above with a pleased look on his face. She pulled off with a loud pop, then she tongued the space between the head and shaft, he let out a guttural moan at the feeling, urging  her to take him back in her mouth, it felt phenomenal. Once she hollowed her cheeks again it all became too much for max, she made him cum so hard he started to feel almost lightheaded, seeing stars, hunching over at the feeling. "Fuck, you feel so go baby. Always making me feel so good." He praised, not one lie leaving his lips, although he got to cum every time he had sex, it didn't feel as euphoric as it did with her. 

"Get up here." he said, pulling her up to her tip toes for a kiss. He slipped his tongue practically down her throat, tasting himself in her mouth. Max never understood how other guys could possibly complain about their girlfriend wanting a kiss after blowing him. If she had no problem kissing him after eating her out, what was the difference? The mix was divine, it sent blood rushing to his cock almost immediately as their lips touched. He let his hands run wild over her body, missing the warm of her skin against his. He missed being able to touch every divot of her body. He missed the control he had over her, and the trust she had in him. He was almost as pent up as she was. Max made a point of picking her up again, just to throw her back down on the bed. He noticed the framed painting was put back up above the bed. When they were together, it was almost exclusively on the floor as they got lazy hunting for it behind the headboard, He was disappointed that it was placed back to its home. Max caged her head between her arms as he kissed his way down her abdomen before he gave her cunt one final kiss. He slid his cock over her clit just to tease, he got the same reaction buy only pushing the head in and out a few times before slowly slipping his whole cock in inch by inch. She was swimming in pleasure with max slowly marking her, her neck covered in bites, a few bleeding slightly, her chest was covered in red marks, he needed to mark her as his again, no one was allowed to touch what was his. Not anymore. "Fuck." Max strained, sounding breathless and choked as he continued to pound into her, just how she always liked. He was too hot not to moan over, so she did, and he indulged her, usually he'd have to cover her mouth with his hand or push her face into the pillows to avoid noise complaints, but tonight he'd let her do anything, all he wanted was her back in his arms. He continued to abuse her walls while she gripped the bedsheets tightly, her knuckles becoming white with the new found strength. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while the remainder of her make up began to smudge and run. Max was fucking her so well her face was painted with tears of joy, and it was just so hot. Max became impossibly harder seeing her fucked out face. He stared to fuck her deeper, hitting that spot that made her go blind with pleasure. "Oh yes Max, always make me feel so good." Her inability to articulate proper sentences was a tell tale sign she was close. Max learned how to read her like a book and it was so beneficial in times like this. 

He quickened his pace, feeling quite close himself. He could she some of this hook up guy's stuff still in her room and it just fuelled the fire. "Matthew didn't make you feel nearly this good did he, sweetheart. You can be honest because I already know." He was interrupted by a thud against the floor. "That's it, good fucking girl for me." he praised her, knowing she would melt from his words, his voice was something she admitted masturbating to when he was gone. She claimed it was mostly because of his accent, but also the tone and the pitch, it just got her so hot and bothered. "Think you can hold on just a little longer?" He asked, feeling her clench around his cock, it made it hard for him to resist. "Only for you, Max." she moaned aware it would edge him on further, fucking her felt exclusive, she was a rare and only he could have her. Perhaps he was a bit possessive, but that didn't matter now that he was with her. One of his hands slid up to her throat, pressing lightly on the sides to only slow the blood flow to her head; his other made way to her clit, rubbing fast circles with just enough pressure to really make it feel good. "Please, just.. just like tha..that." She managed to slur out before her words were cut off by a whine. Her orgasm hit so hard that her head was pushing deep in the mattress and her legs began to spasm and shake. Max only now allowed him self to cum, while she was coming down. He pulled out, shooting plenty of long, thick ropes of cum all over her torso, mainly her perfect tits that her just couldn't resist. They both sighed quietly with small laugh. 

Max gave her a chaste kiss before walking leisurely to the bathroom and picking up a towel to clean her up a bit. On his way back he turned the AC on, anticipating that she would ask him to stay; if he was he want to be touching her the entire time, in order to keep her close he needed the room cold. He brushed the towel over she skin as gently as possible, although it still pulled a moan from her. "I know, but I have to, Darling." He threw the towel to the corner of the room, knowing she'd complain about it later. "Were are my clothes?" He asked quietly, looking back at her on the bed with a grin plastered to her face. "Where you left them before moving out." still in the wardrobe would have been an easier answer but she wanted him to know she didn't want him gone. She anticipated him coming back and wanting to stay, as usual she was right. He put his classic black t-shirt on before climbing in bed with her. "I'm not putting that frame back up." was the first thing she said after coming out of her orgasmic haze. He pulled her practically on top of his body and held her close, as if someone was going to take her from him. "I know." was all he said, trying to think of the right words to convey his feelings. "I never stopped loving you." Was all he could say so he coupled it with a tight squeeze. "I know." It was her turn to give a dry reply and kiss his neck sweetly. "This is great pillow talk." Max laughed out quietly and he could feel her smile against his chest. "I'm so sorry, I should have tried harder. I shouldn't have blamed you as much as I did, I'm just as responsible. And I most definitely should not have told you to leave and never come back. I regretted it immediately, you know. As soon as I heard the door shut I lost it. I don't deserve you Max, but I need you so much." His heart ached hearing her confession, feeling her tears wet his shirt slightly. "I shouldn't have walked out. I know what you're like when you get angry. As soon I closed that door I couldn't bring myself to leave. I slept outside that door, your neighbour asked what happened and I started crying to her. I kept in touch with your friends, or at least I tried to. I needed to make sure you were okay, but it doesn't seem like they like me much. So don't say you don't deserve me, you do. We will make it to the end, I promise you. I wont lose you again. I love you too much for that." She wiped her now joyful tears as she kissed his lips again. 

There was a loud repeated knock on her door, they tried to ignore it, assuming it was their neighbours complaining about the noise, they normally gave up after a few knocks. But this one persisted. "You stay here and keep warm alright, I'll se who it is." Max got out of the bed a recovered her body in blankets while walking with unnecessary pace towards the door. He swung it open aggressively. "Look I'm sorry about that but can I just get the rest of my clothes and leave, there's no need to-" The guy, who max assumed to me Matthew, stopped upon seeing Max. "Sorry man, but that's not happening. Not while I'm here. I don't think you even deserve it, especially if you can't make such a desperate woman come. Only took me three minutes . So fuck off now will you." Max said before slamming the door, feeling relieved as he reached her again. "I love you so much Max."

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

In response to the Mile High Job post, I hate that Parker implies that poor flight attendant slept her way to a promotion/better shift. Her day is super weird but her cat is fine and her life is saved. That rumor, however, might stick and that didn't really feel like Leverage to me.

Agreed!

The thing with Leverage is that it's a show from the late 2000s; it feels contemporary, but actually it is a bit dated. And, like all shows, it had some problematic elements, which get a bit more Obviously Problematic as time goes by (I am just waiting for someone to write a lengthy call-out post in 5 years' time and for the Discourse to start.) For example, Tumblr loves to declare that Leverage has a "canon" throuple, but if anyone read that and then watched the show they would be profoundly disappointed - while it's a fantastic ship with a great many shippy instances, Elliot has a lot of onscreen No Homo moments, and frequently is shown sleeping with random women (I personally read him as aromantic). Similarly, there are two big relationships in that show: Nate/Sophie, and Parker/Hardison. And we all wax lyrical about the brilliance of Parker/Hardison and how healthy it is, and for good reason; but we gloss over how unbearably "I hate my wife/father I cannot click the book" Boomer humour Nate/Sophie is.

(He literally calls her a shrew in one episode. She throws a tantrum and sulks if he doesn't remember the exact details of how/where they met. She's stereotypically 'romantic' and he's stereotypically 'cynical' and she has to Save Him From Himself, and he self-deprecatingly says he should just know when to stop arguing because she's always right. Like... it is a grubby and uncomfortable dynamic; but, it's also aimed at a different segment of the audience that is older than me, and that's okay, actually. It just means I don't much care for the ship myself.)

Anyway, this is one other such instance. Clearly someone in the writers' room thought that was a funny joke, and not enough people disagreed, and so in it went. What's nice is that Sandi McCree, who plays the other flight attendant that stays on the plane, actually kind of saves that joke for me with her performance. When Parker first boards and declares that her co-worker is not coming in, McCree looks disgruntled at the sudden change to her staff list when she wasn't informed; she's annoyed at management. Then Parker makes the sleeping-with-pilots comment, and McCree looks disgusted and furious -

An expression she then pulls at Parker every time she sees her for the rest of the episode, even when Parker is technically not doing anything particularly weird. It's not necessarily intentional on McCree's part (Parker IS very weird in this episode, so it very much can be a response to that), but to me it means you can read it as "This woman is absolutely furious at the lateral sexism of this white girl because We Love And Support Each Other On This Plane." So, for me, between that and the aforementioned revelations of the day (the plane was brought down by the domestic terrorists of a Fortune 500 company, but saved by... a few unexplained Official People who snuck aboard??? And the other flight attendant was made to miss the plane after all under mysterious circumstances and was not promoted??? What???), I don't think Sandi McCree's character wouldn't put those pieces together.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

[captainsophiestark]

Take A Break

Javi Rivera x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Twisters

Summary: As part of Kate's original crew of tornado-tamers, you're as much of a workaholic as she is. Thankfully, Javi's around to help pull his girlfriend out of her notes when she really needs a break.

Word Count: 1,123

Category: Fluff, Humor, kind of angst just because of what happens to the original crew, but you can easily pretend that doesn't happen in the timeline of this fic :)

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Hey, enough work for tonight. Come join the party with the rest of us."

I smiled to myself as I made a few last notes off the computer screen. I knew Jeb was mostly talking to Kate, but I also knew that if I stayed here and tried to keep working after he managed to get Kate to take a break, my boyfriend wouldn't be far behind to literally drag me away from my notes.

I scribbled down a few last things as Jeb herded Kate away to the campfire, then started the process of shutting down my computer. Just as the last program finished closing, two arms wrapped tightly around my waist and picked me up, pulling me away from my work at the back of the truck.

"Javi!" I squealed, laughing as he slung me over one shoulder and started heading for the campfire.

"Yeah babe?"

"I was about to head over!"

"Oh yeah, I've heard that one before. Sorry, I know you too well. I know how fast another minute can turn into another hour. I care about this project as much as you do, but you need to take a break."

I sighed, rolling my eyes even though Javi couldn't see me. Even so, I couldn't totally hold back a smile.

"You know, Jeb just came and threw an arm around Kate."

"That's because Jeb lacks commitment," Javi responded as we neared the fire with the rest of our friends. He made sure to speak loudly enough that Jeb could hear him, too. "And because Kate's easier to convince than you are."

I scoffed, but the impact was lessened as Javi flopped into one of the chairs around the fire, pulling me around to sit in his lap in one smooth move. I shook my head and grinned up at him once we landed.

"You don't want your own chair?"

"My girl's had her head in her work, completely ignoring me for hours. No, I don't want my own chair."

I laughed, snuggling in closer to Javi and resting my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around me, and I smiled to see the rest of our friends settled comfortably around the fire, too.

"Glad you could finally join us!" called Praveen, Addy grinning beside him. I grinned right back.

"Don't act like I'm the only workaholic in this group," I said, fake-scowling as I curled closer into Javi's side. "You're all just as bad as I am. That's why we're friends."

"Alright, I resent the implicaiton that I don't know how to have a healthy work-life balance," said Javi, drawling his words a little as he held up his hands on either side of me to help illustrate his point. "I know how to have fun and how to work my ass off with Dorothy."

I twisted in Javi's lap to look up at him with a frown.

"Is it a healthy work-life balance to go way too hard on work and fun?"

He just looked down at me with a grin, leaning in for a quick kiss before pulling back with the same roguish smile.

"Hell yeah it is."

I just laughed and shook my head, leaning back on his shoulder as he tigthened his arms around me.

"Alright, whatever you say. I guess that's what college is for anyway, even if it's grad school."

"We're making memories. We have to have something to say when we're being interviewed for our incredible scientific breakthrough. Some good memories for the memoir."

"He's right," Jeb chimed in, leaning back and stretching his arm out across Kate's chair. "Most people won't want to hear that we spent every hour of every day in the lab. They want to know the people behind the science."

"I don't think any of the journals we want to publish in are going to care about who we are outside of the lab," Kate countered, flopping back against Jeb. "Or the people reading our grant proposals."

"Still works for the long-term headlines," Addy chimed in. "'Brilliant scientists tame the tornado, protecting the home where they spent countless nights together'."

"I think that's a little long," mused Kate.

"It makes it sound like we were all sleeping with each other or something," I added.

"Yeah, that's just the two sets of lovebirds over there," Praveen added.

Kate and Jeb smiled, Kate tucking her head into Jeb's shoulder, and I shot Praveen a wink before leaning up to give Javi a quick kiss. Praveen and Addy liked to make a big show of covering their eyes and shouting at any sign of PDA, but we knew it was all in good fun. They loved the four of us, both separately and as couples, even if they'd both developed strong ten minute comedy sets on the fact that they weren't dating each other or anyone else in our little group.

"Alright, enough of this," Kate said, leaning forward and raising an eyebrow. "I came over here with the promise of s'mores. So where are they?"

"Javi packed them," said Jeb, nodding in our direction. Javi shifted under me, settling further into the chair and wrapping his arms a little tighter around me.

"They're in the back of the van, but somebody else is gonna have to get them. I'm settled in here, and if I don't keep an eye on this one, she might just run right back to her computers."

Most of our friends rolled their eyes, but even so, Addy stood up.

"Lucky for both of you, I want s'mores enough that I'm willing to get up and take one for the team."

"Thank you, Addy," we chorused. She just waved us off with a smile. I waited until she passed Javi and I and got all the way to the truck, then leaned up to whisper in my boyfriend's ear.

"You absolutely know I wouldn't choose computers over s'mores. Probably ever."

"Of course I know," Javi said, leaning down to whisper in my ear with a smile, nuzzling into the crook of my shoulder. "But I'm enjoying sitting with you like this. We're too comfortable to be getting up for s'mores when we have friends that'll take care of that for us."

I laughed, nodding and resting my forehead against his.

"You're right. Genius decision."

"I know."

We shared a smile, one of Javi's hands gently squeezing my thigh as I leaned in to give him another quick kiss. Sitting by the fire with him, surrounded by all our friends, was my absolute favorite happy place. It made all the work and risk and long nights spent huddled over calculations and theories worth it, to be able to do it with Javi and the rest of our crew.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

[spitdrunken]

i keep thinking about essentially being like. velvette's 'charity case' model and how your relationship develops from there.

notes: fem!reader, velvette calls you ugly LMAO, beyond that... no warnings, really. surprisingly the most healthy vee relationship ive written yet!

velvette's typical models all look similar, reminiscent of the modeling industry back when you were alive. tall, skinny and, more important than anything else, human-looking. most of them could pass for humans in a costume.

you… do not. you just didn't get quite that lucky with your demon form! really, you can say that the vast majority of people drew the short end of the stick, at least by the kind of standards that people like velvette set. maybe you're a bat, with a snout you've deemed as pig-like taking up most of your face. or a sheep, your single-slitted, dead eyes making even you uncomfortable. perhaps you're more formed after an object than what you would consider a person, or plant-like in nature! in any regards, due to the way lucifer chose to have you reborn you firmly do not fall within hell's beauty standards.

all of that means you were absolutely not expecting to be accepted when you went ahead and applied to a job with someone as famous and perfectionistic as velvette. it had started as a joke, really. you'd posted a purposefully horrible picture of yourself on vitter, with a stupid caption like; "do u think that :skull::heart: would kill me for submitting to open casting looking like this lmaooooo" (you have to use emojis to talk about the vees, as the socials owned by them are notorious for taking anything remotely negative down.)

and unexpectedly, your post randomly did some pretty big numbers, with people egging you on and some practically begging to tell you what kind of insults she would sling at your head. you saw some people copying your original as well.

so you're like! whatever!!! you don't think that you'd even get through the application process, much less velvette herself. nothing will end up happening, so, who cares? but then, somehow, despite everyone and their mom wanting to model for velvette, you get… through? and you even get an interview scheduled with velvette herself?

she takes one look at you as you walk in, and just goes: oh my god. this really is grim. and you're hardly seated, before she continues. look, i don't have the time for niceties, and introductions are entirely unnecessary. i'm sure you already know this, but you're not here because of your looks.

yeah. you figured that. …i guessed so. but i'm still sitting here. so, why?

instead of getting a real answer, you're shuffled off into a shoot, different outfits flashing on top of your body, faster than you blink, velvette's face settled into a scowl, till it suddenly lights up. it doesn't go… super well, you've never really done this and, if you had, velvette's attitude surely wouldn't help. you never really get clarity as to why you're being hired, when a contract is shoved in front of you.

(the reality of the situation is that velvette had seen you trending, not trending-trending, but still a noticable. she realised the demand for someone like you, a 'relatable' every-demon being thrust into this new world, and documenting it online. her company can claim they accept 'all kinds of demons', and some poor suckers will feel less excluded when looking at her fashion, buying it more quickly. win-win-win!)

she tells you to you're face that you're the ultimate challenge. if she can fix someone like you up to in a half-decent model, it just shows that she really is a fucking goddess. maybe you're not as pretty or as used to everything as the rest of the models, but that doesn't mean you don't put in any effort now that you're there. the other girls won't associate with you whatsoever, but you do listen in on their conversations, pretending to mess around on your phone, coming to know the kind of make-up velvette likes. you tirelessly browse online, mostly on vikvok and vitter, figuring out the current trends. and after a while, velvette takes a look at an outfit you picked, and actually says…

this is pretty decent. it won't look good on you, but i can use this. maybe, somewhere along the way, you become more of an assistant or outfit suggestor for velvette, only occasionally stopping in for shoots. velvette never accepted anyone in a similar position to you, even though vox tried her to get an assistant for ages, and she wouldn't have accepted you either if you'd obviously being vying for the position. but you weren't, and your position just kind of naturally developed that way.

your shtick as a 'charity case' has somewhat been abandoned, though velvette still dumps clothes in your arms sometimes and tells you to try them on. maybe you're one of the few people who gets her to laugh, and the only one who she freely bitches to about all of her models. (she does this to vox and valentino too, but it's not the same. they don't care as much, nor do they really know who she's talking about.) she lets you sort through some of the open casting applications and help pick out the theme for a shoot.

of course, absolutely everything you do has to go through velvette first, and she still criticizes you aplenty, but you can't help but feel she has grown… fond of you, in a sense? sometimes, you swear you see her wearing outfits you'd picked out for another model… and while she shittalks everything that moves, you just happened to listen in on her giving a model a tonguelashing for talking bad about you. either way, you've certainly come to like her a lot more. you're now even mutuals on vitter and vikvok! much to the delight of the tiny following you'd grown on there. she even posted a picture of the two of you on there! …that means you've really made it.

maybe at some point, when her company has hit a new milestone and, in a rare slip-up (or perhaps valentino gave her a super strong drink on purpose, thinking its funny) she gets pretty drunk. you end up sitting opposite of each other in a bar, with her having decided on the spot to put some make-up on you, leaning in close to check her work, fingers gliding slowly over your skin. a situation that feels entirely too intimate for this setting, not helped by the half-lidded look in your eyes. …i have changed my mind. she mumbles, slurring her words are little. you can look pretty, after all.

you sputter out a oh really, and you only realised that now?! in order to break the heaviness of the air, the unspoken tension that makes your heart skip a beat, and velvette laughs.

(maybe there's hope for the two of you yet.)

[grandlinedreams]

|| uhh i forgot the mating bond is just kind of a feelings/vibe pathway rather than talking so just assume reader is Daemati or smthing idk i'm too lazy to fix it and it's part of the fic

|| warnings: enemies(ish?) To lovers, mating bond fic, angst, some pining, cursing, nsfw ㅡ oral (f & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, piv unprotected sex (make informed decisions, kids!), breeding kink

You'd always been a sucker for fairytales.

You'd grown up on a healthy dose of them, tales repeated over and over with the weary affection of your mother as you clamored for them again. 

And what young child wouldn't enjoy stories of knights and dragons and damsels in towers? Where the villain was always clear cut, good and bad measured in black and white.

Too bad the real world never dealt with such things. No, there was no prince to kiss you from a death-like slumber, no knight to rescue you from a tower.

But there is a Cauldron, the Mother ㅡ and whatever gods exist to laugh at the hand that they've dealt you.

That's the only reason you can think of as to why you, part of Rhysand's Inner Circle, can only stare in mute disbelief at Eris Vanserra as the mating bond, mocking you with the idea of shimmering gold, snaps into place. 

“Are you done moping yet?” 

“For the last time, Mor,” you huff as you turn the page of your book, “I'm not moping. I'm busy.” 

“Busy,” Mor mocks. “Looks like moping to me. You need to stop hanging out with Az so much.” 

She waits all of two minutes before she's moving towards you, knocking the book out of your hands to drape herself across you like a contented housecat. “Come on, you need to live a little.”

“I'm four hundred and fifty years old,” you counter, hating the way a smile twitches at the corners of your lips. “I think I've lived quite a lot so far.”

“Being a bore with books and training isn't living,” Mor protests with a huff. “You've been acting weird for the last two decades, don't deny it.” 

You freeze. “I have not.”

Honey brown eyes meet yours. “Have too. You've been acting weird ever since that run in withㅡ” 

You slap a hand over her mouth. “Don't,” you hiss, then recoil. “Did you just lick my hand?” 

Mor grins as you wipe your hand on the couch before she eyes you, brow furrowing.

“Seriously,” she says, her expression sobering. “Did he do something? Because you know Rhys would want to knowㅡ” 

“No, Mor.” You push her off of you and stand. “He didn't do anything.” 

Left, right, dodgeㅡ

“Somebody's in a mood,” Cassian pants as he narrowly avoids your fist to his jaw, his eyes gleaming as he studies you. “Normally I have to drag you out here to train.”

“You don't have to drag me anywhere,” you fire back, pushing hair out of your eyes. “Just felt like it was time for a tune up of hand to hand.”

“And I get to be the lucky punching bag? I'm honored.” Cassian straightens, and you hate the way he studies you ㅡ the way Mor did, equal parts concern and curiosity. “Are you okaㅡ”

“Cauldron boil me, I said I'm fine!” You know it isn't fair to snap at Cassian, but you've felt off kilter all morning ㅡ since Rhysand had told you of the impending arrival of Eris ㅡ presumably to discuss the ever shifting agreements in the tentative allyship with him. 

Just hearing his name had put you off of your breakfast ㅡ not out of indignant disgust, though you wished it were. Anything but the traitorous lurch of the bond you'd hoped would bury itself and remain forgotten. 

Mate, it whispers, an adder coiled in the back of your mind. Your mate. 

Only if it snapped in place for him too, you remind yourself viciously. Only if you accepted it. 

And you won't. Not now, not ever.

“There you are.”

You force yourself not to freeze, turning slowly to lock eyes with the one person you'd been doing your best to pretend wasn't staying in your home. 

Eris eyes you, and the lazy trace over your legs and back up makes you want to slug him and preen in equal measure, the latter only adding to your mounting irritation. “What do you want, Eris?” 

He huffs, eyes gleaming. “Now, is that any way to talk to a guest?”

Pretentious asshole. Your teeth clench hard enough you think something might pop as you exhale. “My apologies,” you grit out, “how can I help you?” 

Eris’ eyes gleam, and you get the distinct impression that he's laughing at you. Not just at you, but at the shimmering coil in your head that sings in his proximity. 

He approaches and you take one wary step back after the other until your back meets smooth wall ㅡ and Eris is in front of you. He's devastatingly handsome, staring at you with an intensity that makes you want to punch him.

It also makes you want to ㅡ no. No. 

“Back off,” you hiss. 

“Or what?” He's taunting you. “If i were a lesser male, I'd think you'd been avoiding me.” His eyes glitter as he leans in. To anyone who could stumble upon the scene, it'd look…intimate. “But that can't possibly be what you're doing, right?” 

You should hit him. Tell him to fuck off, to get away from you ㅡ to leave entirely. You hate how he eyes you, the simmering song that your veins respond with in kind.

“Come on, little rabbit,” he exhales, voice low and almost a purr. “Where are those teeth you showed me last time?” 

You snarl, hand fisting into his shirt ㅡ and you yank him to meet your lips. It's an aggressive kiss across the board, teeth and tongue as he shoves you further against the wall, and you hate how something in you purrs at the pressure. 

This, at the very least, is horribly familiar. His touch is not unknown on your body, the snake of warm fingers against your sides so eerily similar to the handful of rendezvous so many years ago, a lifetime ago, before ㅡ 

Mate. A bond untethered, unanswered ㅡ and icy water douses the ignition of flame in your lower belly, sours the warm lips against your neck. 

“Get off me,” you rasp, ripping yourself free. “The next time you touch me, I'll cut your hands off.” 

“I want to get drunk.” 

“Hello to you too,” Mor blinks up at you, studying the tension in your shoulders. “Any special occasion or…? I feel like I should intervene if this is going to be a bad idea.” 

“Since when have you turned down a reason to go to Rita's?” 

Mor only frowns at you, then gentles her tone as she sets a hand on your shoulder with a call of your name. “Tell me what's going on,” she murmurs. “You've got us all worried, babe. Talk to me.” 

You debate telling her to forget it, to take it out in the training ring or to simply take a good, long walk along the Sidra ㅡ and then Mor presses gently, “Is it Eris?” 

You tense further, and she looses a curse. “I knew it was a bad idea to have him stay here. If he put his hands on youㅡ” 

“Mor,” you cut in. “It's not…not like that. Not anymore.” One eyebrow raises at the anymore, curious as she watches you. You exhale slowly. “My mating bond snapped into place.” 

Her eyes widen, and you can't stand the sympathy in her eyes ㅡ the idea that you're a star-crossed lover, helplessly in love with someone you aren't Cauldron-bound to. If only ㅡ perhaps you could handle that a little better than being bound to the person you are in love with. 

Who's never shown a hint that the bond has snapped into place for him. Never wanted you for more than the intervals of hands and teeth, murmured filth and promises that'd made your toes curl ㅡ and been all too happy to pretend you didn't exist except for those moments. 

“Oh,” Mor says, and your chest aches. She, of all people, knows how Eris is ㅡ and the way she stares at you makes it worse. “Oh, honey.”

She doesn't coddle you, because there are no tears to shed ㅡ you buried those along with your end of the bond, thrown a shield around it, tried to forget. You had no Prince, no Knight. 

(You'd never been good at being a damsel, anyways.)

You don't know what Mor says to the others, but you don't really care when it lands you at Rita's, snug between Cassian and Azriel and all too happy to drown your woes in the sharp tang of alcohol. 

You don't need coddling or pampering ㅡ you know what you need, and it drives you from the safety of your brothers, joining Mor to chase the pounding thrum of music. 

You're not sure when you end up with an unfamiliar Fae male's hands on you, only that you simply grin and welcome the advance, the simmering promise in his eyes to give you what you need to forget the ache in your chest ㅡ at least for tonight. 

And maybe tomorrow. And perhaps the next ㅡ whatever and however long it took for Eris to leave, to let you bury that bond back down where it belongs. 

It's as his lips are brushing over your neck that he's wrenched away from you and you blink, admonishment on your lips ㅡ and it dies a quiet, quick death at the absolute fury blazing in Eris Vanserra's eyes. Not at you, no ㅡ at the male who'd been touching you.

“Get your rutting hands off of what isn't yours,” he all but snarls, and you watch as the male disappears back into the crowd before Eris is focusing on you. “And you. Come with me. Now.” 

Some of the drowsy edge of alcohol is beginning to wear off, and you blink before your eyes narrow. “No.” 

A muscle in Eris’ jaw jumps. “We need to talk.” 

Defiance ignites in your veins, fueled by alcohol, the ruined distraction (from the very male before you), and the irritation that he won't just leave you alone. 

But maybe this is what you need ㅡ that final nail in the coffin, the claws to finally dig the bond out by the roots and get rid of it once and for all. 

So you grit your teeth, shoving hard against the ache of your chest as you bite out a flat, “Fine.” 

The trip back to the House of Wind is silent, tension rolling off both of you in waves. Eris doesn't so much as look at you, but the set of his jaw says he's still pissed. About what, you don't know ㅡ he's the one who came to crash your little party, acting as though he has a right to you.

He doesn't. The only claim he can say he has is the times he's made you cum on his fingers. You refuse to look at him, to entertain whatever self-righteous game he thinks he deserves to play. 

This is your home, not his. Regardless of how tonight ends, you will not be the one leaving. 

Somehow, be it for better or worse, you end up in your room. Eris surveys it, taking in all the little pieces that make this yours, then turns towards you.

Arms crossed over your chest, you raise an eyebrow. “Well? Talk, or get out. I don't appreciate you ruining my night.”

Anger flares, smoldering as Eris offers a terse, “I don't appreciate you letting other males touch you like that.” 

You scoff. “You don't get to boss me around, Eris,” you hiss. Your voice is sharp. “You make it sound as if you're my mate.” 

Eris’ eyes blaze, the flicker of flame at his fingertips as he snaps back, “Because I am, damn it!” 

You freeze. 

Eris, so much like the wildfire he embodies, keeps going. “I'm trying not to act like some feral animal, but you make it so hard not to when you parade around like that, it makes me want toㅡ” He cuts himself off. 

The silence between you is brittle, cracking under the strain of things unsaid ㅡ and then you break the silence.

“Makes you want to do what, Eris?” A gentle, tentative tug at that bond ㅡ reeling at the presence on the other side, an answer after decades of silence. 

His eyes lock with yours as he steps towards you. This time, you don't take a step back. “It almost makes me want to apologize to everyone who's about to hear you scream my name.”

You don't respond, but you don't have to. The shiver ripples through the bond, the blown quality of Eris’ pupils before he pounces. 

His mouth is hot against yours, demanding in ways both familiar and not as you moan, fingers digging at your hip before you're backed against the wall next to your dresser. Something clatters to the floor, but you can't bring yourself to care about anything but the wedge of Eris’ leg between your own. 

He licks into your mouth, muffling the choked sound as he grinds his thigh up against your core. You shudder at the spark of pleasure that ignites, a reflexive jerk of your hips to chase it as Eris nips at your jaw. 

“Tell me how many others have seen you like this,” he murmurs darkly against your skin, “so I know how many times to make you come so you'll forget anyone but me.”

You want to answer, you truly do ㅡ but he takes your beat of silence as a prompt to tense his thigh, and it wipes your mind blissfully clear of anything but the molten warmth pooling between your legs. 

It should be embarrassing, rutting against his thigh like some desperate animal in heat, but Eris meets every tiny noise that leaves your lips with approving nips of teeth in your skin and the wander of his hands to pull at your clothing until he meets bare skin. 

His fingers work from your hips to your navel, then to your ribs ㅡ and then he's pinching at your nipples, turning them to achingly stiff peaks as you groan and rock your hips harder against his thigh. 

And then he's slipping it away, leaving you to tremble and pant as you watch him. He could leave you like this, desperate and aching ㅡ and his eyes darken in answer before he's backing you against the dresser. More things clatter to the floor, but Eris doesn't give you time to care with the way he lifts you onto the now empty surface.

His mouth is hot against your neck, drifting to your collarbone, then to your chest ㅡ nipping and sucking marks you're sure will bruise ㅡ and then your abdomen, your core clenching around nothing when you realize his intent.

Lacquered wood creaks in protest beneath the hard curl of your hands on the dresser, fighting the urge to dig your hand into Eris’ hair as he takes his sweet time sucking marks into your thighs. “Eris,” you huff, head spinning with heady arousal and the remnants of alcohol, “please.” 

That deceptively soft mouth pauses as he looks up at you, eyes wildfire-bright. “Oh,” he murmurs, “say that again.” 

You blink before there's the barest drag of his tongue against your folds, prompting a sharp gasp and a whine when he doesn't repeat it.

“Come on,” he coaxes, watching you in a way that makes you want to smack him. Your frustration must echo down the bond, because all he does is laugh. “Manners, darling. Manners.” 

You squirm as he nips just shy of where you want him, and you groan. “Please,” you exhale, and Eris smirks.

“Much better.” 

And then his tongue is on you before you can curse at him, lips parting around a moan as he begins to work at your aching core. Your hand finds his hair at the same time that he flicks his tongue over your clit, and the answering groan that you get makes your eyes roll. 

Despite never having had his mouth on you like this before (not for lack of want, truly), Eris seems to know how to get the loudest sounds from you. Your head thumps against the mirror behind you, fingers curled tight in his hair as he works you steadily towards orgasm. 

His eyes don't miss anything, locked on your face and the way it contorts in pleasure, lips parted as you writhe and pant. It feeds his own pleasure, the steady ache of his cock in his pants as he renews his efforts. 

Your orgasm builds like a storm cloud, the ever tightening knot in your lower belly that has you at the mercy of the male between your legs. Eris knows how close you are ㅡ how can he not, with the way your thighs tremble, the steady leak of arousal against his tongue ㅡ and there's no small amount of pride to have you this desperate with just his mouth. 

The knot snaps when Eris digs the tip of his tongue against your swollen bundle of nerves and you arch with a sharp cry. He follows the shudder and jerk of your hips as you come, tongue rolling over your hot, pulsing core to swallow everything you have to offer. 

You whine as he works you through your orgasm until you're pulling him away, panting as he presses damp kisses to your thigh. “I certainly hope I haven't worn you out already,” he murmurs, and your breath hitches as warmth simmers between your legs again. 

Part of you wants to tell him that this is nowhere near the kind of talking the two of you need to do, to discuss the bond, to decide if you accept it or not. But you're shoving at him, single minded intent in the way you back him against the wall and sink to your knees.

If Eris is surprised at the way you shove at him, he hides it well, dark eyes tracking as you as you thumb at his hip bones, popping the button of his pants and tugging ㅡ leaving him bare before you. And then your mouth is on him, and it's hard to think about anything at all. 

There's pride to be had in watching his face contort with pleasure as you lick precum from his tip, sliding your tongue against the underside and feeling him throb in answer before you take him into your mouth. 

Eris groans as you envelop him in the wet warmth of your mouth, the deliberate press of your tongue against the underside of his shaft as you suck. 

“Fuck,” Eris swears, voice rough and hips jerking with a hiss when you hum around him. You can feel him throbbing, the steady leak of precum that slides down your throat as you swallow. 

His hand finds your hair, an echo of your own just moments ago and you let him guide you along his length. His chest rises and falls unsteadily, the glisten of sweat at his neck and chest, the soft grunt that leaves his throat when you suck harder. 

You watch his head hit the wall with a muffled thump as you curl your tongue against his underside, hips jerking once, twice ㅡ and then he's spilling down your throat with a groan that borders on obscene. 

You swallow before you pull back, and Eris pants as you bring a hand up to wipe at your lips. He watches you, tracking the way you slide your finger into your mouth to clean it ㅡ and then he's yanking you up, pinning you against the wall once more to kiss you.

It's an all encompassing kiss, sounds muffled as he presses into you hard enough that you can feel the stir of his cock against the apex of your thigh.  

“Eris,” you gasp against his mouth. “Eris, stop.”

He pulls away, eyes on yours ㅡ and the flicker of genuine concern makes your chest ache. “We need to talk,” you say, as if you aren't both in varied states of undress ㅡ or your mouth wasn't around his cock just a moment ago. “Actually talk.” 

You almost expect him to ignore you, to press for this ㅡ but his expression sobers, and it almost hurts to watch that desire for you snuff out like candlelight. “Okay.” 

Part of you wonders if Mor and the others are home yet, or if they'd heard the two of you ㅡ and wisely decided to make themselves scarce, because the house is as quiet as it's ever been.

Eris still looks far more composed than you feel, and you take a steadying breath as you wrap your fingers around the comforting warmth of the mug of tea before you. “...How long have you known?” 

You don't have to clarify, the gentle tug on the bond that's answered in kind on the other. “A while,” Eris answers, and it hurts that he seems focused on anything but you as he exhales. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you to stay last time you were in Autumn Court.” 

Something dangerously soft unfurls in your chest, renders you mute as you study the curl of steam from your mug. You could have.

Eris’ eyes flick to you, then away. We both know that isn't true.

He's right. You never would have, and he would never have asked ㅡ you love Velaris, you love your family too much to ever stray too far. Perhaps that was also why you'd spent so long shoving the mating bond down, pretending it didn't exist ㅡ so that if it did snap in place for Eris, you wouldn't have to confront what you are now.

All you can feel is the ache, echoed in tandem, the way you almost wish that it wasn't there at all ㅡ and you recoil from the hurt on his end. He exhales. “Do you really…”

You curl in on yourself. “No,” you mumble, “I just ㅡ I'm terrified, Eris. We both know what we won't give up, and I don't…I don't know how we're expecting this to work.”

Eris is silent for several long moments before he moves, and there's the press of warm fingers against your jaw, coaxing you to look up ㅡ and then he's kissing you.

It's sweet, gentle ㅡ and it only makes you hurt worse as he pulls away to kiss the corner of your mouth, then your forehead. “We'll figure it out.” 

ㅡ

When I said we'd figure it out, this is not what I thought we'd be doing. 

You can feel his annoyance, the flare of it at your answering amusement. It's what's working right now. 

So you say. He falls silent, and you resume tying your leathers. What exactly are you up to, anyways? 

Training. You finish, making sure that they're in place properly before you exit your room. 

Such a shame I'm not there to admire you. 

Your heart, the stupid thing, gives a soft flutter that you know Eris is undoubtedly aware of. More like distract me.

Would that be so bad? You roll your eyes, shaking your head. You're the one who's holding out on me, love. Don't think I've forgotten.

That you haven't technically accepted the bond, that you'd instead offered what the two of you have been doing for the last few weeks since Eris returned to Autumn Court. Which was, in truth, perhaps, a coward's way out. 

Because for all your jabs and steady ebb and flow through the bond, you're still terrified. That though the Cauldron had given you him, he could still be taken away. 

There's the distinct feeling of warm fingers against your mind, stroking ㅡ trying to settle you. I've waited this long for you, you know.

Sunlight warms your skin. I bet I have you beat in terms of waiting. 

We'll see about that.

“There you are,” Cassian calls as you approach. “Thought I was going to have to drag your lazy ass out of bed.”

“As if,” you snap back, but you're grinning as you stretch. Cassian smirks, eyes gleaming ㅡ relieved that you're back to normal, if not perhaps a little cheerier than you have been in a while. 

No doubt in large part to me, right? You almost drop your practice dagger, rolling your eyes as you square off in front of Cassian. 

Not everything has to involve you, you answer, knowing that the barb isn't anywhere near as vicious as it could be. 

But it could, Eris answers. As I said, such a shame I'm not there to admire you. He pauses. Shall I tell you? Or let you imagine on your own?

Your movement stutters for a second as you swing too wide, rolling backwards to avoid Cassian's own lunge at you. I'm busy. 

So you're not imagining my head between your legs again? He sounds all too pleased with himself, with the way you fall silent ㅡ abruptly thinking of that exact thing, much to his amusement. Because I am. You're so cruel, not allowing me the pleasure of fucking you with my tongue again.

You block a blow meant for your middle, swinging your leg out. Sweat drips down your temple, the familiar ache of your body that sparring always gives you ㅡ and more, the curl of warmth at Eris’ words. 

Or maybe I should have let you finish on my thigh first. You certainly were eager. Your breath stutters. Or perhaps my fingers next? I wonder how many you can take. Last time it was two, yes? Should we try for a third? He pauses, ever the satisfied fox for how your end of the bond goes silent still. Or perhaps you'd prefer my coㅡ 

Eris. He's laughing at you now, amusement echoing even as you throw up the barrier, blocking him out. 

Across from you, Cassian eyes you. He's aware of that far-away look, the snap to clarity once more before your eyes narrow on him. “Don't,” you intone in warning, and he grins.

“What? I didn't say anything.” He straightens, dusting off one of his bracers, the gleam of the siphons in mid-day sun before he approaches to clap you on the shoulder. “I'd pay to watch you shut him up in person, though.” 

“That,” you murmur, “could probably be arranged.”

ㅡ

To be fair, you don't bake a lot. And it'd taken an inordinate amount of courage to ask Elain to help you, the soft, knowing look she'd shot you that'd made your cheeks color. 

But she'd helped you knead dough, rolling it out and crimping it into place so that now you had a pie. 

A pie that mocks you with the simplicity of it, the last minute effort of adding coarse sugar to the top so that it glitters like the frozen crests of the mountains. Simple ㅡ perhaps too simple. 

Nothing like the elaborate things you've seen in windows of bakeries, in glossy magazines ㅡ you've never been good at that. Decent yes, but never so to recreate anything so elaborate.

You groan, pillowing your head into your arms ㅡ only to lift it a moment later at the crisp, Autumnal scent that invades your senses. As if you'd need even that ㅡ there's the familiar tug at the bond that has you watching as Eris strolls through the door. 

You don't leap into his arms. You don't even tackle him ㅡ but there is a swiftness to your gait that has you against him in a heartbeat, face tucked into his neck. 

“Well,” he murmurs, “was my presence missed that badly?”

“Shut up,” you huff, but there's no venom ㅡ not when the knotted tension in your chest is easing, made quicker for the arms that wind around you, tucking you tighter against him. 

“Here I thought you'd be so glad to have me back,” Eris sighs in mock-lament. “Your beloved mate had to find a believable enough excuse as to why I had to come here. Don't you think that deserves a kiss?”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, even as the little bit of truth to your situation sinks home. Autumn Court is beautiful ㅡ but there's good reasons as to why Eris doesn't want you there more than absolutely necessary. Reasons that you forcefully shut out, instead studying his face ㅡ just as he spots the pie.

“What,” he murmurs, “is that?”

Your cheeks warm, even as you scoff. “A pie.” 

“Obviously,” Eris says, arm still slung around your waist. “But where did it come from?”

You study the wood paneling, the carefully detailed artwork from Feyre when she'd stayed here. The cabin isn't often used ㅡ and when you'd asked for usage of it, Rhysand had the audacity to smirk at you. Eris prompts you with a call of your name, and you almost contemplate winnowing and trying again later. 

“Me,” you answer finally. “I made it. For you.” 

Eris freezes against you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you before there are warm fingers on your chin, coaxing you to look at him ㅡ the only warning that you get before he's kissing you. 

You can feel the grip he has at your waist as he backs you until you meet the counter, your noise of surprise muffled by his mouth. “Eris,” you manage when he pulls away for a moment, “I worked hard on that pieㅡ” 

“And I'll happily eat it,” he huffs against your neck, voice low and rough as he lifts you onto the counter, slotting himself between your legs. “I'm busy right now.” 

You want to protest, but his teeth are bruising over your pulse, making you shudder and lean away, giving him more room to work. It earns you a low growl of approval as he busies himself with sucking marks into the column of your throat. 

One hand curls against his shoulder as the other slides into his hair, earning a groan when your nails curl against his scalp. Warm fingers slide up beneath your shirt to yank it upwards, contact of his mouth broken long enough to toss your shirt somewhere else ㅡ and then he's mouthing at your chest, tongue sliding over one achingly stiff nipple and then the other.

“Eris,” you exhale, “godㅡ” 

He nips sharply at the underside of your breast. “There are no gods here, love. Only me, and I don't share.” 

It's spoken in the tone you know is that primal edge of the bond, the innate need to take you ㅡ that'll have him near feral for days if another male so much as looks at you. It thrums in your veins, feeding your need to answer in kind as he grinds down against you, hard pressure against your core making your eyes flutter. 

And then he's pulling away to tug at your pants, kissing his way down one leg and then the other ㅡ and then that sinful mouth is on your core, just as he'd promised. The roll of his tongue has you moaning, hand in his hair to keep him from pulling away ㅡ even though you know he won't. 

You have no doubts that you're absolutely soaking as he presses into you like a man starved, keeping your legs parted as he fucks you with his tongue. Your back arches as he sucks at your clit, the sharp, broken cry that makes him smirk against your aching core. 

Your orgasm is looming, brought ever closer by every curl and roll of Eris’ tongue as you pant and writhe, fingers of the hand not occupied in his hair scrabbles for purchase against the counter beneath you.

As he'd done weeks ago, Eris works you through your orgasm as it washes over you like a thunderclap, letting up only once your noises have been reduced to whimpers and you're tugging at his hair.

Warm, damp kisses trail up your abdomen to your chest before Eris kisses you, and you moan at both the taste of yourself on his tongue and the fingers that he slides into you. 

You're slick enough that the slip of them is easy, and Eris groans at the way you tighten around him as he works you open. The stretch of his fingers has you keening and arching into him as his thumb finds your clit. 

“I told you,” he murmurs, “how I intended to admire you. But you making all of these infernal noisesㅡ” He curls his fingers and you keen, hips jerking against his hand. “And it makes it hard to stay focused.” 

You wish you could answer, you really do ㅡ but the way he's working you towards a second orgasm has robbed you of any eloquence beyond shuddering gasps and hiccuped moans. 

“My pretty mate,” Eris groans into your neck. He can feel the way you tighten as your orgasm nears, the lewd sound of his fingers as they thrust in and out of you. His cock throbs in his pants, and it's self-control alone that keeps him from spilling into his pants as you soak his hand as you come for the second time, making such pretty noises that Eris swears it's all he wants to hear for the rest of his immortal life.

He finally has the courtesy to lift you off of the counter, a slick mess left behind that he entertains the idea of making you clean up later with a hand in your hair and his cock in you as he takes you from behind ㅡ and the answering flare of arousal from you almost makes him want to do it now. 

But it's the soft plush of a bed that meets your bare back, legs parted to welcome the settle of Eris between them ㅡ deliciously bare, erection just shy of where you want him.

And despite the two orgasms he's coaxed from you, you have no qualms in telling him as you rock your hips up, head tipping back against the bed. “Fuck me properly, Eris.”

He raises an eyebrow, a Cauldron-sent menace as he tongues at the marks he's left on you, strawberry blossoms he's made sure will get the point across. “Ask nicely, love.”

You huff, then knock your leg against his hip, rolling so that you're straddling him now, hands planted against his chest. “You need to put that mouth to better use than pissing me off.”

“I already did,” Eris answers, cocky gleam to his eyes that makes you roll your own before he's hissing as you take him into your hand, guiding him to your slick entrance before you sink down.

“Being my mate doesn't excuse you annoying me,” you say, tone shaky for the way pleasure spiderwebs at the stretch of him inside you, the golden whisper of finally, finally, finally.

Eris’ expression is also taut as you clench around him before he offers a rough, “Say it again.” 

You stare down at him, aware of the way his pupils have blown so far you can't tell the color of his eyes anymore, the steady throb of his cock inside you. You don't have to ask what he wants you to say.

 You stretch over him, the slow roll of your hips that has him gripping at you even as your lips meet the delicate arch of his ear and you offer a breathy sigh. “My mate.” 

Eris snaps. You can't even yelp as you're flipped back into the sheets, moan leaving your hips as he bucks into you. The pace is aggressive enough that the bed creaks in protest beneath you, but you can't bring yourself to care. 

Nothing matters beyond the hard thrust of him inside you, tip knocking against that spot inside you that has you making sounds that'd put a pleasure-hall to shame. Your fingers curl against his back, rewarded with a groan that makes you tighten around him further as his hips roll steadily against yours. 

“Mine,” Eris huffs against your hair, then your temple, then your neck, the graze of his teeth making you shudder and arch into him. “Mine.”

Yours,” you gasp, choked cry ripped from you at the sink of his teeth against your skin.

One hand anchors him over you as the other skims over your breasts and down your abdomen to rub tight circles into your swollen clit. The contact makes you keen, and Eris huffs a rough laugh as you clench around him.

“Gonna come already, love?” You offer something that might be words, garbled and incoherent for the way pleasure is overloading your brain. It amuses Eris further as he watches your expression contort, the part of those pretty, kiss-swollen lips of yours as you mewl and moan.

“Two orgasms and still so needy…” He offers a playful click of his tongue. “Insatiable.”

As if he's faring better given that he's opted to simply grind his pelvis against yours now, intent on staving off his own orgasm for as long as he can in order to continue tormenting you with the pleasurable sink of his cock inside you. 

“Want you to come in me,” you rasp, a moment of clarity that makes Eris freeze above you for all of ten seconds ㅡ and then he's moving again, groaning as he fucks into you with renewed vigor.

“My pretty mate wants me to fill her up, huh?” He goads, slick fingers pinching at your nipple and tugging until you're crying out. “Want me to fuck you full of my seed? Go ahead and put a baby in you so everyone knows who you belong to?”

You don't get to respond because you're cumming hard, clamped hard around him as he manages one, two, three unsteady thrusts before Eris is pushing as deep into you as he can and groaning your name into your neck as he spills into you. The warmth of it makes you almost squeal, arching into him before he's settling over you, sweat slick-skin and a heartbeat to match yours. 

The next several moments are silent save for heavy breathing and the soft noise Eris makes as you drift your hand up and down his back. 

“Worth the wait?” Eris asks at last, and you pretend to think long enough that Eris pinches at your side in protest. “If you don't answer me, I'll just have to keep outdoing myself until you say otherwise.” 

“Is that so bad?” You challenge, and you can feel the twitch of him inside you, the way he's stiffening as his eyes flash.

“No,” he growls, “not at all.”

[highhhfiveee]

safety net, part three

part two: 🚿 | part four: 🏆

pairing: pornstar!mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: y/n gets a taste of mike's world and things begin to shift. wc: 3.1k tags: lots of mentions of porn, smut (descriptions of sex being filmed, featuring unprotected sex, dirty talk, clit rubbing, squirting, some workplace intimacy lmao), angst?, exposition! proofread many times but if there are still errors, idk what to say lmao

“wow."

"i know right," you say plainly, eyes wide at your best friend, claire, as you take a large gulp of your hot latte. claire cuts her gaze to you, puffing her cheeks out in a sigh. you were always so in awe by her, the feeling proved once again when she'd actually agreed wholeheartedly to view your boyfriend's porn.

"i still don't believe that you're dating him," she sputters with outrage as she points to your computer on the dining room table, open to a still of mike with dick in hand, coming on some dark-haired girl's keen face. "and i don't believe it even more so because you decided to wait six months before telling me. i thought we were best friends!"

you can tell her outrage is whimsical by the way she faints into your arms, and you reach forward to catch her. 

"yeah but, like, best friends from adolescence that don't see each other very often. last time i saw you was three months ago." 

"okay, but by then you'd been dating him for three months, and that's almost half a year!" 

"barely, claire." 

you couldn't even believe that you were dating him. you hadn't known how you two went from meeting outside an underwhelming, overpriced restaurant to making out and cuddling intimately in mike's bed four out of seven days a week. it'd felt like no time had passed at all; you'd just been living without thinking. mike took every worry off your shoulders, freeing you of anxiety in so many ways that you couldn't believe someone that caring and accommodating was real.

he paid for your sessions after you'd mindlessly rambled about not being able to afford this therapist you really liked. he sent you the credentials to his grocery delivery membership, encouraging you to get anything you wanted or needed. you could finally consistently get things that were good, and healthy. he paid your rent, and respected the fact that you didn't want to move in with him and wanted autonomy to work and pay for your other personal expenses.

"i just want you to be happy. you tell me what you want, and we'll make it happen."

he had you and it didn't feel real. you felt like you couldn't tell anyone about it, terrified that everything would crumble if you spoke even a word about him being your partner, so sweet and good and rewarding. you didn't want to hide him, but you didn't want things to collapse. not this time. 

you wouldn't be able to take it this time. 

you explain all this to claire, ending with, "i'm sorry it took so long. i just really want this to last." you'd told her about everything, even about dating simon briefly and how he led you to mike. 

claire nods, chewing on a wedge of pineapple speared by a fork. she's given up her fainting performance, once again munching on her breakfast and clicking the pad on your laptop. the video you two were watching resumes, and you watch her face for bit, eyes shifting around the screen in intrigue, before turning back to it as well.

"you deserve it, y/n. that simon guy sounded like a dickhead. an expired card, and the bathroom excuse? fucking lame." her voice doesn't chop through the amplified sound of both mike and the girl moaning, whiny and feral. they're absolutely gone, and you're really not thinking about simon anymore. fuck him. 

now, you thought of mike.

granted, you hadn't been like the people in mike's videos, up to a certain point. you'd done the kissing and the heavy petting, but you hadn't had sex at all, in any form, and he didn't pressure you into feeling like it was some sort of requirement. he agreed with taking it slow, placing emphasis on the romantic before the sexual. you knew there would be no issues with the sexual; why rush into it when you could have the slow burn, all the tension you wanted up until you were ready?

mike hadn't fought it, and yeah, you thought, you did deserve it. you deserved to be treated like this. 

"called me over for an art date, i guess you still painted," the girl mewls with a devilish smile, licking at mike's---sorry, chase cox's---come around her mouth. 

"mhm, baby. masterpiece, if i do say so myself." mike is so pretty on the screen; sweaty and flustered, but so confident at the same time, polite too. even when he's in an act, he's so attentive; he moves hair away from eyes and wipes spit off chins and cradles waists while he adjusts his hips to hit various angles, turning almost everyone he filmed with into a "braindead fucktoy"---claire's filthy words, not yours (though you didn't mind the idea). 

the video ends with a snippet of aftercare, the both of them wiping at each other's bodies with gentle motions. it's how they all end, and you think it's really nice, showing a crucial part of sex that most people forgo. you'd seen plenty of mike's videos by now, and knew that while some were vastly more kinky than others, they all followed the same formula of care, concern, and curtesy. 

you could tell mike lived by that, too. 

"well, i gotta scoot to work," claire murmurs, leaning down to grab for her bag. "but thank you for inviting me to breakfast so you could show and tell me that you've been dating a wildly handsome, generous, and charismatic sex worker. best videos i've seen by far, honestly. are you seeing him today?" 

you nod sheepishly, and claire laughs into the sky, doctored with comical bitterness. "well, let the record show that i am both extremely jealous and extraordinarily happy for you." she gives you a toothy smile, poking at your shoulder with both index fingers. "seriously. you deserve it all." 

you carry this thought with you as you ride in one of the company's chartered cars, traversing through the roads to their main studio, the biggest one in the city. there were only 4 throughout the metro area, but this one, a gigantic penthouse isolated at the top of a 275-foot tall apartment complex, had the most space and atmosphere of them all. you remember coming here to take your picture for the all-access card mike had given you. he was so happy to gift it to you a few months ago, finally getting through after bugging the execs to give him another card with unhindered access for months. 

"finally got the hard copy, just for you. got your name on it and everything," he'd smiled so wide, clipping it on one of his merch lanyards; white with black, serif text that read, "chase cox world domination". you'd fallen over in laughter, kissing at his cheeks while thanking him between giggles. 

you hadn't been here many times over the last three months, but when you were, you were able to slip through every door and security checkpoint without hassle. people knew who you were and attended to you, telling you exactly where mike was in the studio or offering to get you any refreshments or sundries you were after. you'd always declined, extending extreme gratitude to everyone servicing you, but today, you ask for a bottle of fancy artesian water. you deserve it. 

the few times you'd been here before were usually half-hours after mike had finished a scene, helping him pack up to head home for the day, but this time, you'd come early, wanting to catch a glimpse of him at work. 

you take the elevator to the top, stepping out into the concrete foyer of the industrial workspace. the gray of the material was accented with bright art and other pops of color in furniture and decor that conveyed the new age principles and ideology of the production company. it made sense why the videos were so honored, with the people behind them being young and progressive and on the right side of history (and design). 

there are eight rooms on the floor; three for shooting, three for aesthetics and dressing, one for an office, and one for storage. there were bathrooms in three of them and two down the main hallway that opened into the formal living room/break area and kitchen. you'd been told that mike was in the hunger room; this one set up for messier, more bodily fluid oriented videos, as opposed to the softer passion and kinkier desire shooting rooms. 

the rooms are all hidden behind frosted, sliding glass doors with the titles printed onto placards affixed next to them. you find hunger after walking a little, and gently pull on the handle. the door slides open soundlessly, and you're closing it behind you as you step inside, your eyes locked on the scene in front of you. 

mike and his partner are arranged on a leather couch in a living room set, his hips shoving into her in this perceptive way. he's reading her body language and reacting accordingly, and you can see why she's moaning so genuinely, feet dangling by the ankle over mike's shoulders. the couch is already drenched in liquid, wet and puddled under the girl's ass.

he grabs for the back of the couch to go deeper, leaning down to press kisses on her lips as the cameraman focuses in on where they're connected. the sound is so lewd, and it makes you press your thighs together as you watch alongside the small production crew. 

"feel good? happy to have a friend like me? someone who knows you, knows your body? someone who makes you feel better and come harder than your stupid fucking boyfriend?" his partner mewls out a broken, exasperated, "y-yyesssss" between gritted teeth as her moans get higher and higher pitched. suddenly, she's reaching at mike's back to scratch at his skin, screaming out as mike leans off to the side of her, massaging his fingertips over her clit and cooing, "yeah, just let go. know he's never made you feel like this, wasting this perfect pussy..."

his partner squirts against the camera with a screech, loud and raw but pretty. the lens is covered in a heavy spray of bodily fluid as she arches her back and grinds her mound into mike's hand, chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. "that's fucking it," he encourages, speaking in her ear as he looks down at the mess in his peripherals and rides her through it. "just the way you deserve." you swear he locks eyes with you when he says it, and he only confirms it with the small smirk he throws your way, managing to fit it into the ending of the shot. his eyes twinkle through the aftercare segment, and he talks with his spent coworker, calling, "she just wants to sit for a second" to a PA with a chuckle. 

"okay, ten minute break and then we're shooting the come shot."

her legs slowly straighten out as mike throws the towel he's handed around his waist and slides his feet into the slippers stored behind the couch. he grabs a water from an outstretched hand as he makes his way over to you, smelling like sweat and sex and glistening with this nearly angelic post-fuck glow. it's like he's coming down from the gates of porn heaven.

"hi, my love," he muses, pulling you into a tight hug before saying, "how much did you see?" 

"like right before the squirting. it's very..." you're not sure what to say, really. maybe, just maybe, you need to change your underwear, but you don't want to be weird about it. you're sure he's heard weird, and beyond weird, but you want to maintain composure in front of his coworkers. you give him a tight smile, resting your hand on his pulsing bicep. "just makes me think things." 

"maybe we should add 'thought-provoking' to the list of labels for the company," he jokes, taking a sip of water while winking at you. "you're a genius, baby." 

you're giggling along with him, opening your mouth to continue the joke when two tanned arms reach from behind him to cross in an X over his chest. a head peeks from behind him, and she's immediately unmistakable to you. 

it's his current scene partner, who is also the girl from the video you watched earlier today. the one eager for his come, whining for him to make a mess of her face while letting him beat his dick on her tongue. you think back to all of the videos you've seen her in where she's with mike. she always comes the hardest working with him, and vice versa. something about it makes you sick. 

she's smiling at his cheek, eyes focused on his as he turns his glance towards her. her arms get tighter around him and you notice how she gets closer, pressing her front tighter against his back. "caught your breath?" 

"you know i always do," she brags, licking at her canines as her stare moves to you, looking you up and down with snarky scrutiny. "casting department's starting to slack." 

you shrink, feeling so small that you don't feel like you're interrupting something anymore. you might as well just not be there, and you're about to sink into pitiful posture when mike snarls, "hey, watch yourself. y/n, this is amelie, and li, this is y/n, my girlfriend. i told you about her." the sound of mike saying the nickname turns to bile in your throat, searing you on the way down and keeping you from speaking.

amelie gives you a blank expression now, standing beside mike with no qualms at being fully naked in front of a stranger. "y/n, y/n...not ringing any bells," she places her hands on her hips, tossing her dark, sex-tousled hair over her collarbones. "sorry."

you don't know why you're daunted by her; you're usually daunted by no one, and able to speak up for yourself when people are acting catty. this time, you can't help but be unnerved by her perfection, or how close she is to it. perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect body, perfect boobs...

"i'm kidding," amelie's smooth, beguiling voice rips you from your thoughts, and you're gasping for something to say when she continues, "he's shown me endless pictures, and knows that i think you're gorgeous." her tone picks up the tiniest bit as she quips, "my eyes are up here, by the way." she's throwing you off, frustrating you in so many ways and you're just stammering with mike looking between the two of you.

"i'm sorry---"

"it's really fine. millions of people have seen them, everyone's always thirsty for more of me and chase cox..." she drags the end of her sentence out as she runs the tips of her long, cherry red nails along the back of mike's neck, ending in a laugh.

"'mike schmidt' isn't a porn name, we already had this conversation." 

"neither is chase cox, if we're being real," they launch into a chitchat, and you once again feel like you're intruding. there's no denying that they have insane chemistry, but it still rips at you;  you're aware of them having an entire moment in front of you, complete with the body language and glances and suddenly, you don't care about their connection. mike was your boyfriend, and it didn't matter what she said or did. they'd made so many videos together, yet, every night he came home to you, and not her. 

"yeah, well you're still moaning chase when you come," 

"because i can't dox you like that--"

you clear your throat noisily, gaining their attention with an eyeroll, and amelie observes you and your curled lip with recognition of your game. she didn't expect you to have bite, not with the way you look now. you're not the assertive, 'take-no-shit' girl from the pictures mike showed her. she thinks you're merely a hint of that, and that it completely evaporates when someone lights a fire under your ass, but maybe she's wrong for once. "watched a bunch of your stuff. it was really good, you're talented." 

"thanks," her gratitude is dry and bitchy, and you're about to say more when a PA calls a two minute warning and she squints her eyes into slits at you. "hope you're ready to see a lot more of me." she uses mike's shoulder to pivot with a sly smirk, sauntering back to the now wiped down leather couch, ripples coursing through her ass with every step. 

you look to mike with astonishment, wondering where he's been during this whole thing, and who that girl is, and if she's genuine bad news or simply one of those callous girls that guys love to chase.

mike had defended you, sure, but he'd gotten captured too. what if she's indoctrinating him some--

"she's nice," you blurt, stopping yourself from the overthinking you'd resorted to. you needed to be nice to yourself. you deserved this, deserved everything you had with mike. nothing was taking that away from you, and you could feel secure in that. mike would reassure you.

he does, saying, "isn't she?" with a snicker. "don't worry about her, okay? it's her personality, and she does everyone like that, so she's not just targeting you. ignore her, and if you don't like the small jokes either, i can tell her to knock it off. whatever you want. also, lunch after i wrap?" 

you nod your head, about to say something again when the PA announces that it's time for shooting to start back up. mike gives you a fat kiss on the lips as he drops his towel into a director's chair next to you, and makes his way back over to amelie folded on the couch. her knees are by her chin at a filthy angle, and she's using a squeeze bottle with a tapered tip to squeeze shiny lube all over her clit and both holes. 

mike watches, rubbing his hand all through it to spread it around. amelie bites at her lip as he does, staring up at him with eyes that are filled with unadulterated lust, and he uses the leftover lube on his dick, stroking the slippery surface as he gets harder and harder in his hand. 

the director asks them if they're ready, and when they both answer yes, she says, "okay, we're gonna go insertion, sink in, wait five for the kiss, and go from there. alright...rolling...action." 

amelie flicks her eyes to you in a leer, winking at you like mike did earlier as he plunges into her sopping wet walls. her head falls back against the couch while she outstares you, open-mouthed moans transitioning into "cockdrunk" laughs that you know are calculated.  

you begin to chug your bottle of water, deliberately ogling her in return. you were down with playing a game for two, but not for long. 

lord. the hell i've gone through to get this up /: lmao i need to go to bed. things are about to heat up, so prepare yourselves for what's next to come!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf

[beensbaee]

𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

summary; when y/n is told she's to be mated to toruk makto's eldest son - she refuses to let her future be decided for her. she believed he felt the same way for her, until her life is in danger and she realizes she was wrong. that eywa is always right, when it comes to her children.

word count; 3.4k

A CHANGE OF HEART

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"Mother, please tell me this is not my punishment!" she whispered harshly, her hand desperately pulling her mothers arm as the woman sighed impatiently

"Yes, it is Y/n." she replied, turning to Neytiri who stood a few mere feet from them. Her own arm was locked around her own son as she gently pushed him forward with eyes that dared him to even try to protest

The two mothers acknowledged each other with strained smiles as Y/n felt her anger dancing on the edge of absolutely exploding

It wasn't her fault, is what she wanted to say as Neytiri handed her the thin dagger and explained their punishment in detail that had Y/n gritting her teeth together to keep herself from saying something she'd regret

Y/n's mother then handed Neteyam a woven basket, filled with enough fruits to last them the few hours they were being forced to endure together

"All you two do is fight, argue, and yell. I hope you know this is meant to help you only. The clan simply cannot be surrounded with this. Do you two understand?" Y/n's mother snapped as Neteyam nodded his head quickly, a small frown on his face as he kept his eyes on the ground

Her mother nodded satisfied, before turning to her own daughter with a look that could kill.

"And you Y/n? Did you hear me?" Her sharp voice called out as Y/n shifted on her feet uncomfortably

Y/n's mother was known for her strong personality. Her bravery was something alarming as she was always ready for battle. Her current battle however, was getting these two teens to get along. She certainly had Neteyam's teeth clattering, but Y/n only looked at her mother with sad eyes

"Yes mother." She said, careful not to anger her anymore

"Good. Go." She said. Though her tone remained the same - sharp as ever, her eyes were gentle as she bid the two teens goodbye

The two mothers walked together closely as they left, their children however, kept a healthy distance between them as they began their trek through the forest

Y/n's eyes stayed on the two women until they were out of sight. The second they were, she turned the weapon Neytiri had given her at Neteyam so swiftly that he barely had any time to react

Already confident in himself she was going to do something like this, he pulled out his own knife that he'd kept hidden on himself

Surprised, she tilted her head with a cocky smile

"Didn't know I was that predictable, Neteyam."

The way she said his name had him scoffing as he held his knife tighter in his hand. Y/n wasn't worried at all, because she knew he wouldn't fight her unless she made the first move

"Don't say my name like that." He practically growled as she let out a taunting grin that had his knuckles paling with how hard he was digging his fingers into his weapon

"We are meant to stay together for the next few hours, yes? Get along and become the bestest of friends, right? Well, I say we go our own separate ways and be convincing enough for them to believe we spent these hours together. Ok?" She asked, finally lowering the knife just the slightest bit to let him know she was going to be civil for this single conversation

Neteyam's eyes remained on her. He stared at her like he was contemplating between life and death as she let out a sigh

"Or, you know, we could fight to the death to settle this feud once and for all?" She said with a wicked grin that sent a shiver down his spine. He knew she wasn't joking. Not even a little bit with that comment. He imagined her laughing if she did manage to stab him, and he shook his head to get rid of the horrifying possibility

"We are going our separate ways. Don't even try any surprise attacks. I am not in the mood." He said, walking past her carefully as she discreetly moved her leg in front of his path to trip him

He caught the small movement, eyes moving down as he stared at her foot. He blinked before looking back at her, his eyes displaying absolutely no hint of amusement as she slowly pulled her foot back

"Worth a shot." She mumbled

He scoffed, grabbing a single fruit from the basket her mother had given them before walking away

She picked up a fruit as well before turning around and beginning her own journey, deep into the beautiful forests of Pandora.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The day Mo'at had announced Y/n and Neteyam as mates was the day she watched her life be thrown completely off axis and thrown into a world she didn't understand

A vision was what she'd called it, pushing her in front of a boy she didn't even know and declaring him her soulmate

She hissed when Mo'at said this, unable to control her hate for the new word as she understood its meaning

Her soulmate. She was convinced that there had been a mistake, but Eywa does not make mistakes was the only response she got.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Y/n moved through the forest carelessly. She was happy for the small time of solitude she'd been granted with this punishment as she skipped through the forest

She spent time playing with the small creatures she encountered on her journey, drinking from rivers she came upon before she settled herself against a nearby tree and began crafting

She wove the leaves she'd found together expertly, humming to herself as she smiled at her talent to create such unique pieces

It was a thin head piece, made with the fallen leaves and vines she found in her path

She adjusted the piece on her head, peering her face into a small nearby pond to look at her reflection. Pleased with the view she was met with, she sighed as she wondered what to do next.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't tired, and she'd be lying even more if she said the tree she was laying against wasn't comfortable. The gentle slopes of the bark serving as the perfect place for her to rest her figure against

She sat there for a while, simply closing her eyes and letting her body relax. Eventually, her mind wondered  and thought of what Neteyam was doing in that same moment before she shook her head and let out a hiss for allowing herself to think of him at all

He had never been unkind to her. At least not until she was unkind to him.

She remembered the night Mo'at sat them in her tent and told them of their future together

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

His eyes were on Y/n the entire conversation, only moving away when she'd look up

He could see the tears that so badly wanted to break through - the realization in her eyes as she understood her future was being decided for her

Neteyam could feel his heart grow heavy as he realized how much he hated himself for putting the girl through so much pain. He loved his life in the spot light as being apart of Toruk Makto's family - but sometimes, the responsibilities would weigh him down to the point where he questioned if he'd ever get up

She wouldn't look at him. Refused to, and she left quietly after Mo'at dismissed them. He tried reaching out for her arm to try and say something to comfort her as she exited the tent, but drew back as she latched herself onto her mother

"Ma- I don't even know him."

He remembered her voice so clearly - the confusion and sadness as her mother held her hand firmly, kissing the girls head gently and whispering encouraging words to her as they walked away

They didn't know he had followed her outside, and he felt numb as he turned to his mother

She had a knowing look in her eyes as she spoke to him gently

"Don't think we expect anything from you now, Neteyam. But in the future, you will grow onto each other. Remember, Eywa does not make mistakes. Believe me, son."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"Just a few moments" She mumbled to no in particular as she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back and allowing herself to fall asleep

It was a stupid mistake, really. Falling asleep in the middle of the forest and having no way of making sure she'd awake in time. But she didn't care as sleep overtook her body and mind.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Eclipse neared, and Neteyam sighed as he lifted himself from the patch of grass he'd been resting on

He didn't have anything to hunt with, and he realized only after he was too far into the forest. He'd spent most of the time simply wandering in thought, which was not something he did often

He thought of her. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop the thoughts and ideas of the two of them truly being happy from flooding his mind.

She was hurt. And Eywa, he wanted to heal her so badly. He wanted to tell her he saw her clearly, he saw her pain and sacrifices and the brave face she put on for everyone. But, his own pride was keeping him from uttering a single word.

He stood at their meeting spot for a few minutes. Then ten. And then, half an hour had passed.

She wasn't here. Her initial absence wasn't alarming at all, as he assumed she'd take her sweet time to come. But as the sky became darker, he realized something was wrong.

She'd never cut it this close, to the point where she'd risk her mother finding out they'd gone their separate ways when they were supposed to be together

His fear was something small, but it rocketed into full blown panic in an instant as he realized something must have happened to her

At this time, the larger predators would begin to emerge underneath Pandora's dark sky, and she was still somewhere in the forest

His footsteps were fast as he ran through the forest, calling out her name and ears rising to hear any possible sign of her

He cursed to himself, realizing how immature he was for agreeing to go separate ways. He should've refused and just stayed with her - obviously with some distance to ensure she wouldn't try any tricks on her - but he shouldn't have left.

His voice turned desperate as he couldn't find her - not even a trace.

The possibilities were endless - she could be hurt, stuck somewhere-

And then he saw her. Sleeping, against a tree without a care in the world with something hanging from her hair

He felt his heart physically stutter in his chest as he realized she was ok. He gritted his teeth, attempting to keep himself from losing his shit

She acted so carelessly, like she didn't even care if she lived or not. He hated how she had no regard for how dangerous the things she did were. 

He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding in. He didn't know when he'd even allowed himself to get so worked up over anyone, but he tried to calm his heart as he let his mind accept the fact that his mate was fine, more then fine as she slept peacefully

He was absolutely sure he was going to yell at her like never before for the near heart attack she'd given him and how reckless she'd been until he heard a deep rumble

The sound had his heart drumming in his chest as he whipped around and looked for the source of the sound

The Thanator paced slowly, it's bright eyes shining in the dark as its head dipped down and chewed at something. The small creature had been gutted by it's teeth, bits hanging from it's mouth as it chewed mercilessly. He watched it's fangs peak through its menacing mouth as it emitted another low growl

It was one of the many larger creatures he feared running into. He believed he'd find Y/n in time, but it looks like he was wrong.

The girl still laid unmoving, besides her chest which rose and fell slowly. 

If the Thanator's eyes found her sleeping there... He didn't let himself think any further as his feet moved quietly, his eyes blown wide in panic as he tried to figure out what to do. And fast.

Neteyam held the knife in his hand as he crept behind the trees slowly, his footsteps silent as he felt his heart hammering in his chest. He kept looking at the Thanator, who he was sure could hear his heartbeat. The knife in his hands felt silly compared to the thick skin and pure size of the creature

He was behind the large tree Y/n laid against, moss lining its side as vines hung low from the branches, hiding Neteyam's moving figure from the Thanator

He moved his hands forward as slowly as possible, placing one hand around her stomach and the other around her arms

He pulled her slowly, desperate to get her out of the animal's line of sight and behind the tree. His hands were sweating as he struggled to adjust his grip on her.

She stirred slightly, but she surprisingly, and thankfully, did not wake as he pulled her entire body away from the front of the tree and laid her behind it and out of view

He quickly looked back at the Thanator, confirming it hadn't noticed them before he wrapped his arms around her and picked up Y/n's sleeping figure with ease

It would be better if she was awake to escape, but he was sure if he woke her now she'd make some sort of commotion that would catch the attention of the unknowing animal that lurked

He held her close to him, her eyes finally fluttering open as she took in his face. Realizing she was in his arms, she moved her hands to push him off before she caught the look in his eyes

Dread. Pure dread.

After seeing her awake, he gently put her down. She swayed slightly, confused and still half asleep as he put a finger on her lips - telling her to be quiet

Normally, she would've smacked his hand away. But she was too tired and instead she lazily turned her head to see what he was looking at

A single Thanator stood, watching them with eyes so bright and filled entirely with hunger that it had her back straightening in a second

She suddenly didn't feel so tired anymore as terror consumed the feeling of every limb in her body

But that wasn't why he was so scared she realized, as she took in the entire pack of Thanators that trailed behind it, their predetorial gazes latched onto the two na'vi like a child to a toy

"Eywa...I fall asleep for two minutes." She mumbled, but Neteyam didn't miss the hitch in her voice as she said the words

"Hours. Two hours." He gritted out as she sighed

"Oops?" She said, her feet slowly taking a step back as the Thanator put one foot forward slowly, like it was trying to keep them unaware of the attack that it had planned

"When I say to, we run. Don't even try to separate when running. Understand?" He said slowly, his body unmoving but prepared to run as she moved her hands to secure the leaf crown on her head

"Fine." She whispered harshly. He watched her secure the head piece on her and tried his best  not to swat her hand away from it. He was irritated she was focusing on her hair of all things instead of her life. She truly left him speechless sometimes with the way she acted

The leading Thanator led out a growl that sounded awfully hungry, and Neteyam's voice was in her ear as he pulled her backwards and away

"GO!"

The teens were fast no doubt, and some of the strongest in their clan. Their feet hit the forest floor hard as they ran with speed that was something to be applauded. The sound of the pounding steps of the herd behind them only encouraging them to go faster

Panting, they jumped over any obstacle in their path. Rocks, tree trunks, logs, vines, boulders - anything and everything.

They were in perfect sync - well, until Y/n's headpiece fell

She let out a yelp, trying to catch the flying piece as it fell behind her - but her fingertips barely brushed it as it fell from her hands

He turned around at the sound of her voice, watching her jump behind a tree and disappear in seconds

He let out his own yell of frustration before following behind her, panting, he watched the herd run past their hiding spot. They had no idea the two na'vi weren't in front of them anymore

They had managed to lose them, remarkably, but that wasn't his priority anymore. It was Y/n's behavior, but as he turned to her, she was already moving. Crouching on the ground, she crawled around while looking for something

Neteyam took a deep breath, before turning to her with the meanest look she'd ever seen

Mentally preparing herself, she let out a sigh as she turned to him with a bored expression

"Great Mother - What is wrong with you? You fall asleep in the middle of the forest, manage to catch the attention of an entire herd - get chased by them and -"

"Ah!" She exclaimed, picking up her fallen headpiece with a satisfied smile. She let out a laugh as she observed it was perfectly fine, not a single leaf out of place! 

He grabbed her arm, yanking her up as she stumbled

"We leave. Now." He said, his voice so angry, she didn't even protest

She frowned as he held her hand firmly, not even giving her the chance to try and go her own way

They walked silently, careful of their surroundings. Eventually, his deathly grip on her softened as he held her hand more comfortably

For once, she regretted how she treated him.

He was so stressed. She could see it in his eyes, the fright she'd given him wasn't small. She'd seen all of his emotions as they grew up together closely. She'd seen him angry, sad, happy - but she'd never, not even once, seen him so upset.

He kept looking around, eyes tired but filled with alert as he made sure no other creature tried to attack them

She looked down at their hands, interlocked so lovingly that it made her turn her face away with a frown

She looked at her other hand, which held her head piece. As she stared at it, she realized why it had fallen off while they were running. It was too big.

Then she turned to him. She stared at him so intensely that he couldn't ignore it, turning to her with brows pulled together expectedly 

"Huh." She said. His head did seem a little bit bigger then hers

"What?" He asked annoyed as she stopped walking. She gently removed her hand from his. He looked confused and tried reaching for it again. But, she got on her toes and placed her prized possession on his head

It was the perfect size. Framing his face so perfectly that she couldn't help but let a small smile break through. A real smile.

He stood completely still. It seemed like he had stopped breathing as the only thing that moved were his eyes as he watched her silently

"I can't believe how perfectly it fits you, Neteyam. And I must say, it looks a little bit better on your head instead of mine." She said in the same teasing voice that would never fail to have his heart beat faster

He looked so beautiful. He glowed in the moonlight, but it was nothing compared to the look in his eyes.

He gently touched the piece on his head, a crooked smile growing on his face at her rare show of kindness towards him

"Did you just give this to me, willingly?" He asked

He couldn't even be mad anymore. Not even if he tried to, as every bit of anger and confusion of fear was killed by her small yet radiant smile

"Maybe." She said playfully as she grabbed his hand and continued their walk

He followed her, but made sure to stay a single step behind her so she wouldn't see how quickly his small smile transformed into the biggest grin ever

He could feel her change of heart with the way her fingers brushed over his knuckles as she held his hand. He saw her change of heart with the way she told Neytiri that their punishment went smoothly, that he was civil. He saw her change of heart with the way she adjusted the headpiece one last time on his head when their mothers weren't looking. How she'd given him one last glance as she left with her mother, her hand moving as she performed the gesture that he'd only imagined her doing in his day-dreams

I see you

She grinned at the shock he was unable to hide, laughing as she left with her mother and left him smiling for the rest of the night. Her laugh found its way into his dreams, and she was the sole thing on his mind, like always.

[allthelovehes]

Breaking Barriers*

Summary: Y/N is in her mid-twenties and still a virgin, but she decides she no longer wants to wait for marriage as the tension between her and her best friend rises.

Pairing: Bestie!Harry x Virgin!Y/N

Word count: 9.1K

Warnings: Protected sex, smut, p in v, deflowering, virginity talk, first times, oral f receiving.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

A/N:  Welcome to day 8 of posting daily! Ayooo, this was requested multiple times and I actually think it turned out sooo stinking cute omfg.

Being in her mid-twenties and a virgin is something not many people can say, let alone be proud of. It's something that Y/N chose and could have changed at any time. She could've given it away and tossed it to the next attractive man who looked her way but she didn't. She decided to save herself for marriage, even if it seemed stupid and cliché to some people.

For Y/N, her first time was important. It was a milestone in her life. Her body is a temple. It is to be cherished, worshipped, and honoured. Like most women, she wanted her first time to be something she wouldn't forget. She wanted it to be special and done with someone she loved and trusted.

So, Y/N waited. And if waiting for marriage meant skipping out on hook-ups? Then that was just fine by her. No sweat off her back. It took a while, but she was sure when she met the right guy it'd all be worth it.

Now, she wasn't opposed to making out and getting frisky. Y/N is as attracted to men as the next person and isn't afraid to have some fun with it, it just doesn't go much beyond hands. She sees kissing and touching that isn't penetrative to be healthy and normal.

Getting a partner, however, was the tricky bit. Most of them want to go all the way and have sex before they even get to know each other and the rest either take her for granted or have this kink about it, they like the thought of fucking a 'treasure' that no one's ever had or touched before.

Either way, she usually ends up losing interest in the relationship quickly. It seems the right man to spend the rest of her life with was a rare find. She didn't know if it was possible or if her expectations were too high. Or perhaps, being picky was the problem.

Eventually, she accepted it would take time for her to find someone. A time that she was willing and able to give. And right now, it was just a waiting game. To meet the guy whose arm she'd want to loop with hers for the rest of her life and create a beautiful life together in the process.

Just as Y/N was nodding off to sleep, a series of notifications on her phone rudely interrupted her sleep. Furrowing her brows, she sat up and lifted the device from her bedside table.

The screen lit up and showed who was texting her. It was her best friend, Harry. She slid her finger across the screen and a mess of messages appeared.

Harry Hi! *drunk selfie* So are we playing Scrabble tomorrow? I miss you and want to see you

Y/N If you still remember tomorrow and want to, sure.

Harry Sweet. Whatcha up to?

Y/N At home. About to go to sleep

Harry Oh sorry. You were probably sleeping

Y/N You're fine. I only just got into bed.

Harry What are you wearing, love?

Y/N Don't make me block you

Harry Ow ;( Why?

Y/N I'm too sober to have this conversation with you.

Harry *picture of him and Y/N* Look at us all cute, drunk out of our minds.

Y/N Very cute. Goodnight, Harry.

Harry Hey, one more question before you dooooooze

Y/N Go on.

Harry What are you wearing?

“Idiot.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself. With a few quick button presses, Y/N replied with a picture of her in her silk pyjamas, and then sent an audio message: “I'm fully clothed, in bed, covered with my duvet, about to sleep and dream of ways to torture you.”

She puts her phone down so she can actually catch up on her rest. Just as her head hits the pillow again, she gets another message from Harry. Pouting, she swiftly opens the message and swipes up the audio.

“Aww, you'll dream of me?”

For some reason, Y/N can hear a smug smirk in his voice and decides to just ignore it. Putting her phone on silent and plopping it back down on her bedside table, Y/N yawns and snuggles deeper under the covers.

Just as her eyelids begin to shut for good, something within her is stirring that makes it hard for her to sleep. Y/N feels hot all of a sudden, making her shimmy and pull the duvet up further.

What had happened in those final moments of her text conversation with Harry, who was now busy scrolling through pictures of the two together and rereading their texts? Well, it seemed it's woken up a side of her she wasn't too familiar with. Resting her hand on the front of her silk shorts, Y/N could feel she was wet and aching for some touch.

“For fuck sake.” She cursed and closed her eyes. Why now? She thinks as she pulls her hand away, afraid to do anything. She knows why, but doesn't want to admit it.

It's because of Harry. His ridiculous flirting skills have managed to push a few buttons. This has never happened before. Why is he suddenly affecting her? She blames his goofy but heartfelt selfie. God, those hazel eyes looked perfect paired with that signature golden brown fluffy mop of hair, the stupid look on his face and the two fingers up in the air.

Y/N can't deny she is attracted to Harry. What wasn't to be attracted to? When it came to his personality, she was rather fond. He has always been sensitive, goofy and yet extremely smart and serious when needed. And, of course, she couldn't forget to mention how lucky he is. That boy was drop-dead gorgeous. From his curly locks to his biceps, she can go on and on and on about what she liked about him.

His looks definitely played a factor in his reputation with women and it was no surprise their friendship became somewhat of a hot topic with his fans. If only they knew the truth. There was nothing going on between the two other than a strong friendship.

Harry is an absolute gentleman to her. He took care of her in a way that set her standards very high when it comes to men, maybe that's why she still hasn't found a man. However, the sexual tension that had been building up lately between the two was another story.

It was no secret that Harry is a good kisser. The amount of stories she has heard made her feel a twinge of jealousy every time. She remembered thinking how nice it would be to feel what his lips were like on hers, how soft they would be and how they would taste. He's always bragging about the tongue action that gets women all hot and bothered. Then, she wondered how good he would be using his mouth elsewhere and- No. She can't think like this. Stop. It's creepy and weird. So just, stop.

Then, her phone beeps again in her hand, indicating another message coming from Harry. A rush of warmth spread through her stomach and Y/N noticed she was tense again. Biting down on her bottom lip, she opened the message.

Harry *drunk selfie on the side of his bed* I'm home, goodnight love

She stares at the picture, her stomach dropping. Heat swells through her body and the feeling overwhelms her, making her squirm against the soft sheets. Swallowing, she holds the phone up higher and glares at the picture intensely, the area between her legs clenching. It's not as if he looks amazing. No. He looks grumpy, his brows furrowed and a blank stare in his eyes. He just looks so cute, kissable even.

“Enough.” She whispers under her breath and shoves the device back down onto the nightstand. She gets up and goes to the bathroom, turning the faucet and splashing cold water all over her burning skin.

Tomorrow is going to be interesting. Seeing him after her fantasies of him invading her thoughts would be an interesting development. Hopefully, it will fizzle away quickly and everything will go back to normal. Y/N thinks, getting back into bed and fixing her pillows just so. With a drawn-out sigh, she puts out the lights and shuts her eyes. ***

In the morning, there was only one thought running through Y/N's mind, and that was seeing Harry. Even after she woke up, went about her day, she couldn't wait to text him to see if he even remembered the arrangement for her to come over and play Scrabble.

With each message sent, she left an expectant eye trained on her screen, waiting for the three little dots to bubble up and indicate a response. Meanwhile, she paced back and forth between her couch and the kitchenette, tidying up without knowing why. Everything was already spotless. She straightened pillows, fluffed rugs, sorted candles, and shuffled trinkets, anything to distract herself and keep from pestering Harry.

After a few hours of constant upkeep, she finally gets a response.

Harry Sorry I missed your messages, kinda had a wild night lol Are we still playing tonight? I have wine, you got the Scrabble?

Y/N We're playing but the question is... will you be in a fit state for it ;)

Harry Ha-ha. Funny.

Y/N Always. See you later. X

Harry See you. I'll leave the front door open for you. Byeeeee

And that was it. The brief conversation between the two fuelled her emotions. On one hand, she was completely thrilled to be seeing her best friend again. To be in his presence and enjoy a wonderful game night is very exciting.

On the other hand, she felt a wave of dread overcome her, her heart racing at the thought. She brushed it off. Ignored it. Why should she be dreading seeing one of her best friends? That's absurd.

Scrapping her plan of getting all dolled up to go visit him, Y/N finds herself only comfortable enough to get changed into leggings and a t-shirt. Although Harry has seen her in her casual attire, she is feeling oddly self-conscious right now. She doesn't know why and it's getting rather irritating.

He is her best friend for God's sake! If anything, she should be feeling as comfortable and confident around him as possible because he will always accept her for the way she is.

Shaking her head, she gets ready to make her way to his house. Despite it being 3 pm, Y/N grabs a bottle of her favourite white and puts it in her bag and with that, she is out the door.

Upon arrival, she reaches for the door and opens it. Peering around the door frame, she manages to catch sight of Harry stepping out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

He is humming under his breath as he tousles his damp curls with the towel. Strolling across the room to his bedroom, he disappears behind the door.

“Hey, Harry!” She calls out to him as she enters. Smiling brightly, she drops her bag on his countertop.

“Hey.” He calls back. “Give me a sec. I'll be out in a minute.”

Y/N nods, despite him not being able to see it, and makes her way to his sofa, taking her usual spot at one end. Closing her eyes, she rests her head back and takes a deep breath. She already feels exhausted from the many random things she has done throughout the day.

“Do you want to eat first or play first?” Harry finally walks into the living room, wearing a grey sweatsuit.

Peeking through an eyelid, Y/N says. “I'm not hungry. It's still early“ while her inner-self cheered at his appearance, making her giddy.

With a nod, Harry pulled two glasses from the kitchen cabinet placing them on the coffee table. Sliding down next to her, he opened the bottle and poured their drinks. While he set up the board game, she relaxed and casually looked him over. He looked gorgeous as ever, and always put together even if he was barely dressed.

Green eyes flicking up to catch her gaze, Harry chuckles softly before asking. “Nervous?”

“Huh? Why would I be nervous?” Her mouth corners turn up, her heart fluttering.

“Last time we played you weren't very happy.” He shrugged, reminding her how he completely beat her at the game.

“Right. But this time, I'm going to beat you.” She confidently nods and picks up a bag of letters. Harry leans over with a smug smirk on his face as he pulls his own bag.

“Hmm, so confident.” He snorts, lining up his tiles.

“Mhm.” Y/N straightens out her tiles.

Quirking a brow, Harry wonders “Famous last words?”

With a sharp nod and a cheeky smile, she places her first tiles down on the Scrabble board. “Nah, you're going down.”

Harry chokes on his drink and starts coughing, his eyes burning a hole into hers. Staring back, Y/N raised a curious brow. Once he could speak again, he cleared his throat and let out a hearty laugh.

“Alright, so what if I am?” Harry's thick accent cut through as a deep dimpled grin blossomed on his face. She found her heart rate increasing and had to look away, willing her red cheeks to go away.

Swallowing, she began her game. The opening word of DOUBLE wasn't too promising for Y/N, seeing that that was her highest scoring word but she wasn't giving up just yet.

Over the first few minutes, they managed to put down a few good words and Y/N was ahead with a more than decent lead.

“Shit.” Harry breathed, leaning forward to assess his words. His eyes flickered around the board before sighing and ruffling his tousled mop. “I'm fucked.”

Y/N chuckles and rolls her eyes, taking another sip from her glass. Glancing over to Harry who was deep in thought, Y/N reached up and scratched the nape of her neck with one hand, her gaze drifting around the room. As she turned to face him again, she was caught off guard when their eyes immediately locked. Her heart stuttered.

Tearing her eyes away from his gaze, Y/N shifted uncomfortably, then decided to lean forward to select a letter at random. As she placed it on the board, she looks at him once more to find that the corner of his mouth curled upwards.

'Shit' she thought, Harry wasn't playing fair. Surely, he knew that looking at her like that made her drop focus. Attempting to save her dignity, she bit her bottom lip, suppressing a shy smile before raising an eyebrow.

“Is this your strategy to beat me?” Y/N challenged. “Suck me into your sexiness and take my turn? How lame.”

Harry spluttered, taken aback by her comment. He didn't really know how to respond, seeing his best friend make an unashamedly flirtatious comment for the first time. Looking away, he fiddled with his hoop earring.

“Wait. Was that... was that supposed to fluster me, Y/N?” He playfully scoffed. As Harry turned to look at her, he was surprised to find an amused grin playing on her lips. He thought he would find at least a small glint of guilt in her eyes for her playfulness, and was surprised when he didn't find anything other than playful curiosity.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it looks like I've got the upper hand now.”

“You wish.” Harry stared back at her for a moment longer, a playful glimmer in his eyes. A mischievous smirk curled up on the corner of his lips. She was aware that the lighthearted banter had led to a bit more, making her senses go crazy.

Y/N decided it's best to end the conversation there and start her round. Scanning the board, she's looking for a spot to place her letters. Wanting to lean a bit into their flirty banter from before, she decides to continue their tension with a bit of teasing.

Sifting her hand into her bag, she pulls out a few letters. Placing them onto the centre of the board where they intersect, she spells out 'erotic' and draws four points from the tile rack.

Erotic was an interesting word to play, for sure. Especially when it's put into the context of the new sexual tension between the two. So far, Harry has been trying to fluster her with his smouldering looks and cheeky grins, but Y/N is unrelenting. She takes pride in her willingness to fight back against the flirting and his attempts to get her distracted.

She sits back in satisfaction, proud at what she has accomplished. Glancing over to Harry, she felt herself swell with self-pride to see his face light up with surprise, making him actually speechless for a change.

Clearing his throat, Harry gathers himself and sits up. “Hmm.” he hummed, rolling the idea around in his head. With a smug grin, Y/N could tell he's thinking of a response; a comeback. After a few seconds of consideration, he moved his body forward and added three letters to the word. Using the letters he had received on the double letter area, he spelled out 'climax' using the c of her word.

A slight shiver went down Y/N's back at the addition to the word. Laughing and rolling her eyes, she fished out a few letters and added another word. Subtly shifting a little closer to him, she placed her letters down on the right-hand side of his spelling, close to his hand. After putting down her 'desire', she snatched her eyes away from the scrabble board and fixed her stare on him.

Both of them stay awfully silent while their bodies are almost touching. Y/N is tense, trying hard not to breathe too heavily. Meanwhile, Harry was in complete silence, not knowing what to say or do. He is aware of the tension between the two of them but he also wants to respect Y/N's boundaries and maybe tone down his feelings a bit. There's an inevitable tension and she's showing no sign of easing off. Harry was only further proven by her gentle voice in his ear.

“Now whose turn is it?”

Unable to meet her eyes just yet, he focuses on the dizzying words on the board and releases a slow, staggered breath. It was so hard not to put his arm around her, tug her in close and inhale her beautiful scent. Or run his hands along her arms, giving them a gentle squeeze, he craved the touch so badly. He finally took a breath and peered down at his letters, trying not to get too distracted by the growing sexual tension.

Y/N couldn't deny the feeling of warmth that had settled in her stomach since their game began, the warmth that made her tingle between her legs. She felt tempted to reach out and touch him, make contact and hopefully send a good buzz all the way down to his lower body.

Harry's fingers fiddle through his letters, barely paying attention to the little pieces in front of him. His eyes glance at Y/N, then move back to the Scrabble board. He thinks of his next word to play, something that is a little more suggestive.

“Umm...” Harry holds up a little tile, rubbing his fingertip over the surface as he thinks, his dimples pushing into his cheeks. Then, they sink right back out. He shakes his head and returns to sifting through the multiple letters in his bag.

Throwing one piece back into the depths of the bag, his index finger picks up another tile. The corner of his mouth turns up and he is finally confident with what he wants to spell out on the Scrabble board, so he gets to work. He needs an outlet from the fluttering of his chest when she's this close.

Quickly placing down the letters, he spells out the word 'horny'. Biting down on his bottom lip, he feels satisfied by the suggestiveness of his word and glances at Y/N.

Pursing her lips, Y/N tilts her head and gives a disbelieving smile. Harry looks taken aback by her quiet response.

“What? Did I read the room wrong?” He chuckles nervously, brows furrowing.

Looking at his face, she has to bite back a grin. She can read the mixed emotions all over his face. He's afraid to scare her away and reveal his true feelings, especially after the intense game of teasing. He's right. But she's also very pleased with the growing tension.

With a cheeky chuckle, she shakes her head. “No, I guess you read the room correctly.” Biting her lip, she quickly leans forward, adding letters next to his word on the right to spell out the word, 'Fuck'. Harry looks from her to the board, biting back a smirk.

“Is this your way of suggesting we play strip Scrabble? Should I get ready to lose my pants?” he jokes, nudging her shoulder, fighting the urge to break his boundaries. Not able to cope, Y/N just lets out a forced chuckle.

“Shut up, H.” Her voice broke. All she wanted was to feel his hands on her and bury herself into his chest.

Neither of them is paying attention to the score or to the other's gaze, they just lock their eyes together and absorb the heat, trying to predict what happens next. Harry didn't know what to say, nor did he think Y/N would, yet again, follow suit and gently lean forward.

After breaking from their little intimate session, Y/N looks at the board, wondering what their next move should be. She has to admit, these last few moves were very suggestive, and she is slowly catching Harry's point of wanting to touch her and have some alone time.

“Are you going to be mad at me if I do this?” Y/N muttered.

“Do what?”

Staring at him, Y/N ignores the thought and puts her tiles in a new spot. Only this time, she's adding all the letters remaining in her tile bag. There is no going back now, considering the board was almost completely filled up now.

She spells out the word 'wet' next to her first word. Shooting Harry a nonchalant, calm expression and staring at him for a reaction, she saw his reaction immediately. His eyes dropped to the board, then shot back up to her face. Heat, lust, and want flashed across his eyes.

An amused, surprised noise escapes his throat, then his lips tilt up into a shit-eating grin. “For real?”

“Yeah.” Y/N laughs in a rush. “I guess my dirty mind kicked in.”

“Your dirty mind, huh?” A glint of excitement flashes through his eyes and he begins to eye her body up and down. He can't deny the growing urge to touch every inch of her but he can't break her boundaries. Trying to erase those thoughts, Harry grins playfully, then adds a few of his own letters alongside her tiles to play a different word even though he knows he already lost the game.

Giving her a mischievous look, he reveals the word 'boner' and Y/N inhales sharply. They sit in silence for a moment, then Y/N cracks and breaks the silence.

“Oh fuck.” She laughs, the deep seated sensation between her legs not fading. Her eyes scan down to Harry's crotch, attempting to see if what he said is true. It's getting increasingly obvious that Y/N and Harry aren't actually playing a game anymore. Harry places his hands on his lap, covering his crotch from her wandering eyes. He laughs nervously, avoiding her gaze.

“I'm sorry.” He mutters, afraid of her response and of what she thinks.

Y/N bites her lip, unsure of how to respond. He waited anxiously for her reaction. One thing was for certain, the sexual tension has grown to unimaginable levels, the game forgotten. Finally, she glances back up at him, and she couldn't keep herself in control any longer.

Leaning closer, Y/N rests her forehead on his. He is taken aback, not moving a muscle. Shutting her eyes, she leans in to kiss him. Their lips connect and they close their eyes, relishing the moment. After a couple of seconds, they pull back, not sure whether that was the right decision. Her insides tell her to keep going, to taste him more. So with half a mind, her arm reaches forward to grab his shirt, wanting him closer and craving the touch. She looks up at his face and goes in for a much longer, sensual kiss as she straddles his lap.

For a moment, Harry looks at her questioningly before diving back in. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, it deepens the kiss as they feel electricity course through their bodies. His arms make their way down her sides and he squeezes her thighs as she unconsciously grinds on him. One of his hands run up her back, gripping her hair lightly while the other hand grips her waist. A quiet moan escapes Y/N's throat at his grip on her, further adding fuel to his fire. He gives a low growl before breaking the kiss and trailing his lips down her jaw to her neck, leaving love bites down her skin.

“God, you're killing me, Y/N. Do you know that?” He groans into her, making her giggle a bit. Harry's heart burst with joy when he heard her laugh, she's the only person who could make him happy. He pulls back and grins at her then leans back in, kissing her sweetly and lifting her up. Y/N grips his shirt tightly, not wanting to be apart from him. Placing her on her back, he carefully gets on top of her, supporting his weight so he doesn't squish her, and his hands started roaming her body. Suddenly, she pushes him off of her a little and sits back up, feeling dizzy and wanting to gain her composure. Their hearts beat in synchrony and their breaths were heavy.

Harry is concerned by her quick push back, worry in his eyes. “I'm sorry, did I do anything wrong?”

“Are you kidding? That was great. I just... I..” Stuttering over her words, Y/N can't help but giggle as she ruffles her hair and leans against the throw pillow behind her. Harry is now assured that she is okay. Leaning forward, he kisses the side of her head, trying to soothe her so she'd be comfortable enough to tell him. “I want more.” She finally utters.

There was a beat of stunned silence. He shakes his head as his lips curve up into a small smirk. She mimics his expression. Lifting her chin up with his fingers, she meets his gaze. Both of them look down at her plump, red, and wet lips. Then he captures her lips with his, but not with so much restraint as before. He kisses her more passionately, hands cupping her face as he tasted her, kissed her harder, swiped his tongue against hers.

“Are you absolutely sure, Y/N? There's no going back from this.” He breathes against her lips.

Looking into his soft eyes, she can't think about anything else but him and his touch. Deep down, she always knew there was more. As she tilts her head to the side, she bites her lip and runs her hands through his hair. The feeling is a sweet relief, it is exactly how it looked and felt, just like in her dreams.

“I know. I think I've always known it was you. You're too captivating. You make me crazy.” She chuckles, blushing. “Also..” Placing her hands on his chest, she continues. “If I wasn't interested, I wouldn't be doing all this right now.” Y/N breathes, making him grin from ear to ear.

“What about waiting until marriage though? Are you sure you want to do this?”

Giggling, Y/N nods her head and bites her lip, wanting more. “Screw that.”

A shocked expression flickers across his face. Shrugging his shoulders, he leans closer. Y/N's breath hitches as Harry gently pushes her back down on the sofa, propping his forearms on either side of her head to support his weight, and placing his legs between hers. They felt each other's breath as their chests rise and fall with each in-take, anticipating what would happen next.

“Is this okay? Are you really sure, because once we start, I won't be able to stop.” His face inches closer, scanning every inch of her expression, her beautiful eyes and lips before stopping halfway.

Giving him a quick kiss, she nods and runs a hand through his hair again, then bites her lip while gazing at his seductive eyes. Her body trembles with excitement and nervousness. Trying to catch her breath, her mind is drowning in lust. She's just happy that they're alone and, after many years of dreaming about this day, the second it is finally here she is loving it.

“I'm very sure. In fact, why don't we go somewhere more...comfortable?” She whispers into his ear. Dizzy and sweating, Harry feels the bulge in his pants tightening, pressing against the fabric of his boxers as he smirks in agreement. Hastily lifting her in his arms, he crashes his lips to hers, missing their intoxicating touch.

Without pausing for thought, Y/N wraps her legs around Harry's waist as he supports her with his strong arms and makes his way towards his bedroom. Tossing her on the bed, she yelps playfully.

“Are you okay?” Harry's worried face appears in front of her. Shocked and caught off guard, Y/N bites back a smile as she pulls his shirt to collide his lips with hers again. She found herself breathing hard, unable to control it. He pulled back, meeting her eyes.

Y/N sat up slightly, reached down, and began slowly pulling Harry's shirt up his torso. The material bunched up under his arms and she broke the kiss, to slip the material off. With her pulse increasing as the intimacy heightened, she raked her eyes up his smooth, lightly bronzed, chest and torso. It was a beautiful sight. Pulling her eyes back up to his gorgeous eyes, his darkened with desire as he raised his brows in question. Instead of replying, Y/N pushed lightly on his chest, telling him without words to lie back on the bed. With his gaze never leaving hers, he lay back and waited.

Keeping the eye contact, Y/N pushed herself up and straddles over Harry's lap. His hands automatically came to rest on her thighs, the touch sending bolts of energy through her. Harry was such a tease and the way he touched her and glanced up at her was enough to get her off right there. All it would take is one little touch.

With excitement, Y/N pulls her own shirt over her head, exposing her bra for the first time to him. Of course, he had seen her in a bikini before. But the lace see-through fabric of her bra is completely different and it gets him wild. Harry watches carefully as Y/N bites her lip and leans down. Connecting their lips, she can feel his erection pressing against her.

Straddling his hips to meet his arousal, she begins to run her hands down his arms, squeezing firmly and drawing a low sound from his lips. Her body rubs up against Harry's erection and he gives a deep, low groan. Not once breaking the kiss, their hunger intensified for one another.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N presses her chest up against his and his hand slowly roams around to grab her ass, giving it a soft squeeze, making her moan. His hands then reach a bit up, sticking his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and pulling the fabric over her ass. Y/N arches her hips a bit, allowing her leggings to come off a little further.

Harry lets his hands roam up her back as Y/N nibbles on his bottom lip, slowly grinding her sex into his. His hand nudges against her thigh, motioning for her to get off of him so he can take the leggings all the way down her legs. He slides the fabric down Y/N's thighs and knees and her leggings pool at her ankles. Seeing her bare legs, he can tell just how wet she is right now. She hastily kicks off the leggings, letting them fall to the floor.

Watching her closely, his eyes scan her body, taking in the full view. She can't deny how happy she is to see Harry admiring her, appreciating what he sees, loving all of her. It's exactly what she wanted, a man to worship her, to feel loved. And Harry makes her feel those exact things and so much more.

Pushing his hips up, he quickly gets rid of his own sweatpants before he guides her back to straddle him again. One of Harry's large hands glides along Y/N's thighs to her hips before snaking around to her lower back, where he applies a slight pressure, encouraging her to grind against him.

“You're going to be the end of me.” Harry chuckles, bucking up slightly to meet her grinding hips. The feeling drives her wild as the fabric of his boxers brushes up against her lace panties.

“Harry.” Y/N moans, letting herself move in sync with Harry's perfect thrusts. Feeling Y/N's wetness seeping through her panties and onto his boxers, the friction building between their heat is burning, and he needs more of her. But he wants her to set the pace. His lips part and their eyes stay locked together. Their heart rates are picking up and their movement speeds up. The slow build was like a torture, but Harry looks so damn gorgeous and lustful, making it worth it.

“We're really doing this.” Y/N whispers out with a giggle.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes.” She mumbles, smiling. Y/N pushes herself up a bit, hands bracing on his chest, and spreads her legs a bit more so she can angle her center more. Then she slowly grinds into him. His teeth capture his lip and his eyes shift to take in the movement of their bodies. Harry's hands leave Y/N's hips and he grasps her ass, holding her as she rides him. Grinding harder and faster, Y/N is enjoying the sweet sensation it's giving her. Little sounds leave her mouth as she swivels her hips.

Sitting up and pressing her chest into his, Harry grabs her hips tighter and pulls her down, bucking his hips up for friction and creating a delicious burn. Looking up to her face, she has the hottest expression he has ever seen. If she keeps staring at him like that, he thinks he might burst. There is no way he's going to last much longer, which is why he needs to take care of her first.

Slowing down the pace, Harry slides his fingers up her back and takes a hold of her bra clasp. “May I?” He asks in a hoarse voice. A light glaze shines in his eyes as he keeps the eye contact with her.

“Yes.” Y/N smiles, nuzzling her face into his. Leaning down, she carefully kisses him before sitting back. “I want you so much, Harry.” She admits, to his surprise.

“Oh fuck.” Harry swears, bucking his hips up for friction. Groaning and rubbing his erection as well as he undoes the clasp of her bra and it loosens around her body. Slowly slipping it off, the fabric slides down her arms, exposing her breasts. Harry stops breathing for a moment, admiring the view and absolutely loving it.

“You're absolutely gorgeous, Y/N. I couldn't get you off my mind if I tried.” He confesses, meeting her gaze, causing the girl to blush immensely. Moving his hands up her sides and sliding them up her stomach to her boobs, her mind begins to race as she feels herself getting more and more wet.

Harry's calloused fingertips brush over her hardened nipples, his lustful eyes still gazing into hers as her jaw goes slack. Grinding her hips faster and moving them to a steady rhythm, the both of them pant as their desire grows, aching for more. Throwing her head back with a moan, Harry's lips suddenly latch on to one of her soft nipples. Her hand cups the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair as she sucks.

“Harry, I need you, please.” She whimpers, begging him. The desperate tone of her voice makes Harry shudder, a familiar hot tightness coiling inside him, threatening to unravel as she rides him. He is swift to lay her down on his soft bed, her head on his pillow, then gets back to her breasts, sliding a hand down to her panties. Harry kisses a trail of butterfly kisses down her body, leaving marks down her abdomen as he does so. Her fingers go back to grasping his hair and pulling lightly as he makes it to the top of her panties.

“Can I take these off?” Harry pants, yanking the waistband a bit. He slips his fingers inside and gently strokes her pubic bone over her panties, teasing her. Y/N eagerly nods her head, pulling his hair slightly and guiding him lower. He bites his lip and tugs her underwear down her thighs as she helps kick them off. The sight before Harry made his jaw drop, leaving him breathless.

Y/N is incredibly wet, her fluids are dripping down her thighs, no hair blocking the way for him. Harry inhales sharply, running his finger through her folds and collecting her juice. Raising his hand to her face, he shows her. Feeling incredibly timid all of a sudden, she blushes and squeezes her legs shut.

“Hush now. You're perfect, so beautiful and bare for me.” Harry insists and peppers her knees with kisses. She parts her legs a bit wider for Harry. “Good girl, Y/N.”

Licking his lips, Harry traces his thumbs up her inner thighs and kisses her exposed clit. A spark flows through her body as Harry closes his eyes, getting lost in the exquisite taste of her arousal. The feeling is completely new to Y/N, she's not sure how to respond or what to do. At the same time, everything he does feels so good. Harry licks over her folds, running his tongue from the bottom to the tip. Her hands turn into fists, tugging at his brown hair as she draws a sharp breath.

A little too shy to make any noises as Harry teases Y/N's clit with the tip of his tongue. Her legs start to shake and she quickly covers her mouth with her hand as she lets out a needy moan. Harry grasps her wrist, pulling it away from her mouth.

“Don't be afraid. I want to hear you.” The thought of Y/N covering her mouth or muffling her sounds and keeping quiet bothers him a bit. Y/N lets out a little gasp and nods quickly. Without breaking eye contact, Harry presses his flattened tongue against her clit and licks until Y/N's vision starts to swim.

“Harry.” Y/N moans as Harry flattens his tongue, licking up her slit while he inserts a finger.

“Keep telling me how you feel. It's incredibly sexy.”

“Feels... Incredible.” She manages to get out before she squeezes her eyes shut. Harry responds by wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking gently. Inserting a second finger, he curls them against her G-spot while he twirls and flicks his tongue quickly.

“Y-yes.” Y/N cries out when Harry discovers her sweetest spot. Harry smirks and presses his fingers deeper while he continues using his mouth.

Keeping up with the swift motions of his tongue, his nose rubbing her clit a bit, Y/N's toes begin to curl and her heels dig into his mattress. Harry can't help but let out a low growl as the girl in front of him moans at a high pitch.

“H-Harry.” She whimpers between quick pants. Her stomach suddenly tightens as a ball of warmth spreads, soon making her go weak in the legs. Flicking his eyes up to watch her orgasm, he lets the heat spiral through her. His thrusts slow down as her insides pulsate, and he gets dizzy, feeling pretty smug. It feels like an explosion between her legs, so Y/N can't stop herself from grinding on his face to prolong her pleasure.

“See how gorgeous you are when you come for me?” Harry breathes after she catches her breath, gazing deep into her eyes and rubbing soft circles on her clit with his middle and pointerfinger.

His eyes were soft, but dark with lust, the expression in them shifting slightly as she stared at him. She could see his hardened nipples and defining tent of his boxers. Still on cloud nine, her cheeks feel hot and her body is radiating immense pleasure.

She wants to initiate the next move but she simply doesn't know where to start. Instead, Harry decides for her. Getting rid of his last piece of clothing, Y/N watches closely as he reveals his completely naked self. He kicks off his boxers and climbs back on the bed, hovering over her.

“What do you want to do next?” He asks in between kisses. Biting her lip in nervousness, she places her hands on his chest and kisses him.

“I don't know. Do you want me to return the favour?” She suggests with a sheepish smile, but Harry shakes his head.

“I want you to feel good. No favours you need to return unless you really want to.” He returns her offer with a gentle smile. She feels herself blush as his words run through her.

“Do you think...” She pauses and Harry swallows hard at the sound of her timid voice. “Do you want to try it?”

For a moment Harry is confused before her words begin to sink in. She wasn't very specific but there was no need for that. With his heart about to jump out of his throat, he understands right away and nods.

His eyes catch hers, and they smile in relief, happy to enjoy each other. Her mind runs wild as he kneels up for a moment to retrieve a condom from his nightstand. When he does so, her eyes run down his abs and back to his dark gaze. He tears the foil and puts the condom on his erection, the sight of him doing it making her want him even more.

“Are you absolutely sure?” He wonders, adjusting her on the bed so they're both comfortable. Swallowing hard, she nods, wanting this to happen. He asks her over and over to make sure she's sure of what she wants. She admits she's a bit nervous to do this for the first time, but she's 100% positive she wants to go through with this.

“Tell me to stop and I will, I promise.” Positioning himself, Y/N feels his breath on her lips as she gives him an enthusiastic nod. Smiling down at her, Harry pushes into her tight hole, going at a very slow and gentle speed so he doesn't hurt her. She was nervous, but his touch and actions helped keep her calm. He pushes his hips forward slightly, making Y/N whimper. Reaching up to caress his cheek with a sigh, the intimate contact giving him the strength to push into her as carefully as possible.

Being incredibly gentle with her, he hovers over her, eyes looking deeply into hers and soft sounds coming from his mouth, staying like that for a long time. Burying himself deep within her, Harry is completely still for a moment. The feeling of fullness and the sudden pressure is the best she's ever had. Finally able to fully relax, Y/N presses her lips against Harry's.

“You can move.” She breathes, to his great joy. The feeling of the heat of her pussy enveloping his erection sent a shiver down his spine. Gradually sliding out slowly, she feels her body moving in rhythm. Inch by inch, he eases himself back into her with a low hiss.

Harry clenches the sheets beneath them as he slowly builds his pace to a smooth rocking, groaning with her when his cock hits the end of her, causing little electric sparks up her spine. Harry sits up and grabs hold of her hips, her arms flying up to cover her chest in the process.

“Jesus, your pussy's so tight, feels so good.” Harry comments in a strained voice as he holds her hips tighter and guides her to rock into his thrusts. Y/N moves her arms back down, her hands trying to find something to grip as her walls clench tightly, making Harry thrust a bit harder. Squeezing the sheets, Y/N moans again.

“H-Harry. Oh! Please, faster.” Picking up the speed, Harry begins to shake as he pumps his hips harder. She rolls her head back, mouth wide open as the sweet build of an orgasm starts to rise in the pit of her stomach.

Grasping her hips tighter, he's practically spilling out all kinds of wonderful things as she cries out again and again. The lust takes over, sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through her body.

His hand reaches down to rub her clit. Biting on her lip, her walls convulse and her breathing becomes heavy. They both stop breathing altogether when she arches her back sharply, getting in on their rhythm, pounding harder into her core. The warmth keeps building, coursing through her veins and through every cell.

“Oh, Harry. I'm gonna...”

“I know, baby.” He interjects as she writhes beneath him. Hitting that sacred spot inside her with each thrust, she doesn't think she'll be able to hold it in much longer. She wraps her legs around his waist, creating a deeper angle. It's absolutely amazing. She never wants it to end. Her toes curl and her eyelids flutter, taking it all in.

“I can't... Harry.” She exclaims breathlessly, and then screams out, repeating his name.

“You can, Y/N. Look at me. Let go and come for me.” Hearing his raspy voice and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, combined with the sound of his encouraging words drives her even more crazy, almost at the edge. She knows she'll fall down into a complete state of bliss any minute now. Grinding her hips harder, holding on for dear life and digging her nails into his back. She's squeezing him with her walls, everything seemed to melt together into an incredible cocktail of pleasure as she shouts out his name and comes on his cock. He keeps fucking her, keeping her orgasm going even after it came to an end.

When she regains the control over her body, she lowers her legs from around his body.

“Oh, Harry, that was amazing.” A lazy smile spreads across his face and their eyes lock, the both of them panting from her height.

“Do you want to try another position?” He inquires, leaving Y/N with a curious yet excited look on her face. Y/N nods with a faint “Yeah.” and the corners of his mouth tilt upward. With that, he pulls out, an unexplainable sense of emptiness filling Y/N, and she watches as he pushes her onto her stomach, taking a hold of her legs. Harry nuzzles his face into her neck, whispering sweet praises in her ear as he eases her into their next position.

Leaning up on her hands, he raises her onto her knees and steadies her position. He lines his cock up with her entrance from behind. Harry rubs the tip between her folds, he easily glides into her. Kissing her shoulders and down her spine, he doesn't hold back this time and she didn't mind because his wilder thrusts felt unbelievable, not to mention the sounds he kept making. Pounding his hips up against her ass with determination, his curses get louder and his moans turn into the most beautiful sounds she's ever heard. He's close. Y/N knows it.

“Y/N.” He manages in between hot pants and deep groans.

“Yes?” She asks.

“Where do you want me to...” She only had to think about it for half a second and nearly moaned at the mere thought.

“Keep going.” A fierce thud echoes through the room, matching Harry's skin slapping against hers as he rubs her clit once again and gives his final thrusts. Harry tightens his grip and Y/N can feel every muscle in his body get tense as he fills the condom. He's still for a moment, the throbbing of his cock noticeable inside of her.

Leaning up over her, he wraps his arms around her waist and her chin, tilting her head up towards him for a breathtaking kiss. Their tongues slow dance as Harry pulls out, carefully sitting the girl on the bed.

Harry leaves the room to his ensuite to toss the condom and clean up. He brings a damp washcloth and wipes her down, cleaning up the clear mess between her legs. Getting to her chest, he is gently and thoroughly meticulous. Doing everything as painstakingly slow as possible, Y/N closes her eyes in serenity.

While being touched so delicately, she lets out a small sigh and places her hand on his. Bringing her knuckles up to his soft lips, a faint smile plays upon his gorgeous lips. The intensity and lust in Harry's eyes are nowhere to be found, only adoration lingers now. He dresses himself in a clean pair of boxers and turns around to speak up.

“You're staying right?” He questions, slightly chewing his lip as Y/N makes direct eye contact, the thought of staying and sleeping beside him becoming increasingly tempting.

“I'd love to.” She responds hazily, the sleep already starting to take over her body. Harry chuckles at her clear exhaustion.

“I'll get you a shirt and a pair of boxers then. If you want.” He stutters in a nervous way, his confidence fading into a shy demeanor all over again.

“That would be great, thank you.” Sitting up on the bed, she watches as he opens the bottom drawer of his wardrobe, pulling out an oversized Rolling Stones t-shirt and a pair of plain black boxers. Harry hands the garments to her and heads out of the room.

She throws his Rolling Stones shirt over her frame and glances down, making a mental note to take this shirt home tomorrow. After slipping on the boxers, she lets out a heavy sigh, crawling into the bed and plumping the pillows behind her back, getting ready to put in her best effort to stay awake until Harry returned.

Entering the room with two mugs in his hands and a cautious expression, he can't help but smile at the sight of her body so carefully protected by his bedding. The overwhelming joy floods his body as he sits down next to her, gently handing her a mug, full of tea. A sincere smile spreads across her face as she accepts the mug, sipping the warm liquid and pulling the bedsheets up higher.

“Thank you. Do you usually bring tea after sex?” She jokes, Harry letting out a light-hearted giggle and grinning before replying.

“I just thought it could help you relax, or calm you down.” The honesty in his voice catching her off guard for a moment as she quickly recovers.

“Relax or calm me down?” Raising his eyebrows, he nods slowly.

“I know how intense and strong the emotions that are inside of you can get. I wanted you to have a tea that would help soothe your mind know you.” He explains, placing his hand on top of hers, rubbing circles as she nods. Placing the hot tea down on the nightstand, she turns back to him with wide eyes.

“That means a lot, thank you.” She whispers, pressing her lips to his ever so gently. The cup of tea feels like a confirmation that she made the right choice to give herself to Harry. He cares for her, makes her feel cherished and comfortable. That's a great thing in Y/N's opinion.

Snuggling up closer to Harry, they sip their hot tea. Harry asks her if she's feeling alright, to which Y/N answers that she feels fantastic, and Harry can't help but think back to the few hours ago when they danced around eachother, making his heart ache. He kisses the top of her head and caresses her face as he stares into her eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He voices, cupping her face in his large hands.

“About how I wanna do all of that again with you.” She blurts out innocently, making the man laugh for the umpteenth time tonight and making her wish he would keep laughing forever.

“You're not the only one.” He says, setting his empty mug of tea next to hers. All of that tension, all of the stolen glances and awkward moments leading up to what happened tonight felt completely worth it. They both got some stress out and finally found the right times. Being held by the best person in the world, Y/N finds it easy to shut her mind down. Everything is good and she believes their friendship has grown into something far deeper. Maybe she finally found love, she thought before she surrendered to her heavy eyelids and drifted off, pressed against Harry's warm skin.

Sighing with relief and pure admiration, Harry lets his mind wander as he looks down at the most stunning girl he's ever laid eyes upon. He closes his eyes, pulling the blankets higher so her delicate form won't get cold in the middle of the night and lets himself indulge in the feeling of her soft skin brushing his. Not being able to believe what just happened between them, his body relaxes more than it had in months, maybe even years. Admiring her features and carefully placing a chaste kiss on her temple before he too drifts off to sleep.