#and I’m not going to do anything about it to be clear

[missadangel]

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Chapter 7: Apologize

series masterlist

Chapter Summary: When you call it quits on secrets, it’s funny how more of them spill out. Then Harry comes sprinting after you, begging for forgiveness. I mean, how can you say no to that face? Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. Chapter Word Count: 10,5k, ROMANCE, feelings!!! fluffy, rom-com, lust, passion, jealousy, dirty talk, love triangle authors note: Thank you all for your support, asks, comments, reblogs and likes. I appreciate each and every one of you! Love you all!

As the elevator headed up to the penthouse, disbelief hit you hard. How could Harry have lied to you like that? You’d been cleaning his place without even knowing it. It felt like a total betrayal, but honestly, you were more pissed off than anything. Then another thought struck you—those cameras. Had he been watching you this entire time?

“Jerk. Fuckin' asshole.”

“Huh?”

Right, you were in the elevator with Mia, this little girl you just met, both of you heading to the same flat. But it was clear you had a shared goal. The elevator chimed as you reached the penthouse, and Mia stopped you. “I need to do something first.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

Mia peeked out of the elevator, checking the area. “The cameras,” she said.

You were caught off guard.

“I can’t let my mom find out I’m here, so I need to shut them down before we go in.”

“Your mom is Maria, right?”

“You know her too? Who even are you?”

With a smirk, you said, “Just think of me as your partner in crime.”

Mia raised an eyebrow. “Partner in crime?”

Leaning in a bit, you said, “I want to take down those damn cameras too.”

She thought about it for a second, narrowed her eyes, and then glanced at your uniform. “So that’s you, huh? My mom mentioned you.”

“What did she say?”

She smirked. “You are the girl who made Uncle Harry look like he’d been hit by a truck.”

You giggled. “I really want to hit him with a truck right now. Because you see, I didn't know it was his apartment when I was cleaning here, he played a trick on me. And as if that wasn't enough, he watched me on the cameras. So what do you say, partner? You want to smash those cameras?”

She frowned. “Smash them? What are you, a vandal?” She took his tablet out of her school bag. “Here, I'll activate the app here, but since we're partners, I need you to turn on the signal first, can you do that?”

You felt like an idiot next to this smart 10-year-old girl. “Okay, tell me what to do, partner.”

“Since you're the cleaning lady who always comes here...”

“Maid.” 

“Yeah, maid, whatever. I need you to go to the control panel on the wall and choose the option to connect to nearby devices.” 

You frowned. “Why can’t I just walk over and hit the button to turn off the camera? There has to be an option for that.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks Einstein, if you do that, the camera's feed will be disabled and Uncle Harry will receive a notification, which could make him suspicious. I’ll just link to the camera from the tablet and adjust its angle. Then there won't be anything to worry about. It's not like Uncle Harry is going to be monitoring the camera constantly during his meetings at work.”

Now you felt even more silly; it was a super clever plan. “Wow, you’re really smart,” you said. She styled her hair like her mom. “I know. Just go do what I say.”

You chuckled softly, “Understood, ma’am.”

She flashed a grin.

As you entered the apartment, you acted casually, avoiding the cameras while strolling down the corridor. “It feels like I’m in a movie,” you whispered to yourself. You quickly connected to the cameras through the control panel’s touch screen and hit "add device." Moments later, Mia's tablets name appeared, confirming the connection.

“Connection complete,” Mia announced as she walked in.

“High five, girl!” you said, extending your hand.

She laughed and high-fived you back. “We make an awesome team. I like you.”

“I like you too, Mia,” you replied with a wink.

Looking at the cameras, you realized Mia was indeed controlling them from her tablet. They were all aimed toward the corners, so as long as you didn’t walk by, the cameras wouldn’t catch you. Mia sprawled out on the couch as if it were her own home and started watching a video on her tablet. Glancing at her knee, you noticed it was slightly bleeding.

“Hey, let me take care of that knee,” you said, heading to grab a first aid kit. When you returned, you sat beside her and cleaned her wound with some alcohol. “Is this because you skipped school today? Is it about your mom?”

She sighed. “Yeah, it’s about her and my dad. They keep saying they’ll get divorced, but nothing changes.”

You paused. That must be tough for her. “I didn’t know; that sounds rough. How do you feel about it?”

She shrugged. “I just want them to figure it out already. I’m so tired of their drama and constant arguing.”

“I get it. If it ever gets to be too much, just call me. My place isn’t nearly as big as this one—barely bigger than the living room—but I’ll make room for you. What do you think?”

Mia smiled with a maturity beyond her years. “Thanks, you’re a really good friend.”

You smiled back and wrapped her knee with some bandages. “Alright, don’t take this off until tomorrow, got it?” 

“Got it, thanks,” he said as he flopped back onto the couch. “You’re mad at him, huh?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really angry. I just want to break everything in here,” you muttered while glancing around. 

“How mature,” he remarked quietly. 

Feeling a bit embarrassed, you looked at her. “I mean, of course I won’t actually do that.” 

“My mom did,” she replied, surprisingly calm. “She broke everything in Dad’s office. You adults can be super childish sometimes, and then want us to act like we’re grown-ups.” 

You let out a nervous laugh. “You’re not wrong; we can be pretty childish about things.” 

“Just talk it out and figure it out,” she said.

You grabbed the first aid kit and stood up. “What if I’m so mad at him that I don’t even want to talk?”

She smiled. “I don’t think you are.” You raised an eyebrow. “Well, I hope you are not, because I don’t want him to be upset.” She was messing with something on her tablet.

You loved how she was just like her mom, always keeping an eye on Harry. “I don’t want to upset him, honey, but I have to make him eat a little humble pie, okay?”

“But you’ll forgive him later, right?” she asked with hope in her voice.

“Of course, I love him,” you said softly.

“Awesome,” she said, clearly happy, and went back to playing with the tablet.

“Well, I guess I should get back to my chores,” you said, heading into the kitchen to start cleaning up.

“What's up?”

Oliver stepped into his office to find Harry staring at his tablet with a frown.

“There’s something wrong with the cameras. They won’t rotate and there’s no sound coming through. Do you think there's a bug in the app?”

“Maybe your girlfriend got fed up with the cameras and sabotaged them,” he quipped, taking a closer look. “Let me see.”

“I can't blame her,” Harry replied, guilt creeping in.

Oliver noticed Harry’s troubled look as he fiddled with the app. “Seriously, when are you going to tell her?”

“I’m planning to do it tonight,” Harry said with determination. “I just couldn’t find the right moment this morning.”

At that moment, Maria walked into the office. “Harry, I'm seriously considering taking that tablet away from you. You’ve been messing with it more than Mia. I worked really hard to convince them—it’s not worth ruining the meeting over.”

“He was just worried he couldn’t see his girlfriend on the camera,” Oliver muttered.

Harry shot him a glare.

“Okay, that’s enough. I’m calling her right now and telling her everything,” Maria said, pulling out her phone.

Harry jumped up and grabbed the phone from her hand. “Stay out of it. I’ll handle this.”

Just then, her phone began to ring. “School,” Harry said, handing her phone back to Maria.

Maria picked up immediately. “Hello? Yes, this is her mom.”

Harry glanced at Oliver. “Have you fixed it yet?”

“Nope, it’s weird. It’s like someone else has logged into the cameras on their phone and taken over.”

“What did you just say?”

They both turned to Maria, who looked concerned. “Okay,” she said, hanging up.

Harry frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Mia,” Maria said as she dialed another number. “Her teacher said she didn’t show up to school today. Come on, pick up the damn phone.” But Maria’s face dropped when Mia's dad said he hadn’t seen her either.

“Or perhaps she went back home,” Oliver added.

“We’ll find out now,” Maria said, pulling up an app on her phone.

Harry moved closer to her. “What are you doing?”

“Tracking Mia with a smartwatch app,” she said, waiting for the app to locate her. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll try the app that tracks her phone.”

“Geez, Maria. Have you planted a bug on her, too?” Oliver said with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she did,” Harry scoffed.

“You’ll understand when you become parents,” Maria replied, giving them a pointed look.

“Hopefully not for a long time,” Oliver said.

Harry chuckled at the idea.

“There! I’ve got it,” Maria said, her eyes widening. “Oh no. Harry, you need to see this,” she said, showing him her phone screen.

Harry froze, staring at the location the app found. “No…Fuck...”

Oliver leaned over to take a look. “Damn, this is your apartment.”

Cleaning duty today felt tougher than usual. Ever since you discovered it was Harry’s house, things had started to feel different, especially now that you were technically his girlfriend. It made you feel a bit like a housewife, which was both thrilling and painful at the same time. You still needed answers, as you felt genuinely hurt. But your love for him was so strong—what could you really do? Deep down, you weren’t sure how long you could cling to your anger. With your pride and stubbornness tossed aside, you weren’t thinking straight anymore, so you chose to let it go for now.

As you walked through the hallway with the cleaning bucket, your eyes landed on that door—the locked door.

The secret room.

What was Harry hiding behind it? There were no keys in sight, so how would you ever get it open?

Did Mia know about this room?

When you walked in to check on her, her eyes were closed; was she asleep? Just as you turned to slip out quietly, you caught a hint of a muffled sound—no, she was crying.

“Mia? Are you okay?”

She sniffled and nodded, but kept her eyes shut. You moved to sit beside her on the couch. “Hey, what’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing... just nothing.”

You gently patted her head. “You sure?  You can tell me. I'll keep it between us, I promise.”

“My mom and dad... I hate them, especially my mom. They decided to get divorced without even consulting me. I don’t want them to split up, but they didn’t even ask how I feel. They won’t love me anymore, and they’re going to be busier with their work.”

“Shh, don’t think like that. Of course, they’ll still love you. They’re your parents, and their love for you will never fade, I assure you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because a mother’s love for her child is unconditional; it can’t just vanish. You're not the reason they're breaking up, I swear. Sometimes, even if adults love each other, things get messy, and splitting up is the only way to handle it. It might seem like the end, but it can also lead to something better.”

“Really?” she murmured, her eyelids growing heavy.

“Absolutely, trust me. You’re lucky to have both your mom and dad around; I’m sure they’ll take care of you, even if things change. I kind of envy you because I lost my mom, and I'll never get the chance to tell her how much I miss her. I wish she were still alive. As for my dad... it feels like he doesn’t care about me—he doesn’t even bother to call, you know?” Your voice cracked slightly. “But your mom and dad are with you and must have been searching for you all morning, haven’t they, Mia? I’m sure they are worried—”

Looking down, you saw that she had fallen asleep, holding your hand tightly. A smile crossed your face as you wrapped your other arm around her. Suddenly, you felt tired too, and before you knew it, you drifted off beside her.

“Mia? Sweetie?” Maria called out for her daughter.

You blinked awake, realizing Harry’s face was mere inches from yours, and his hand was gently resting on your cheek. You stared at him for a moment before pushing his hand away and getting off the couch.

How did you even fall asleep?

Mia stirred and rubbed her eyes. “Mom?”

“What happened to your knee?” Maria's voice rang out.

“It’s nothing, just a little scrape. I fell in the street, and she helped me clean and bandage it.” She pointed to you.

All eyes turned to you, but you avoided their gazes. You forced a smile at Mia and quickly looked away. “I think it’s time for me to go. I hope you enjoyed my service, Mr. Castillo,” you said, trying to sound casual as you made your way to the door.

Oliver stood by the entryway, looking guilty.

“Wait,” Harry called after you. Just then, Maria touched your shoulder.

“Thank you. I’m so relieved that Mia has been with you all day,” she said, pulling you into a hug that took you by surprise.

“You’re welcome, she’s a very smart girl,” you replied, feeling a bit evasive.

She beamed at you, and you offered a smile back, though it felt awkward given the situation.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Harry approached you from behind, his voice soft but insistent.

You turned to face him. “With whom? With your girlfriend? Or with your maid-in?”

Harry let out a troubled sigh, his frustration evident as he glared at you. You turned away again. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, stepping closer to the door.

Maria nudged Harry from behind, encouraging him to move. He stepped in front of you, causing you to halt abruptly.

“How can you say there’s nothing to talk about? There’s plenty,” he insisted, moving closer and locking eyes with you.

You turned your head away again. “Were you trying to get revenge? If you wanted to talk, you should have spoken up sooner.”

“Revenge?” he replied, confused.

“So because I lied to you from the start and deceived you, this was your way of getting back at me?”

“I would never, never do that,” he shook his head, his expression earnest.

“Is it out of pity then?”

His brown eyes darkened with frustration. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Then why, Harry? Why did you hire me for this job without giving me a heads-up? You totally deceived me. Did you actually enjoy watching me on camera the whole time?”

“I’m sorry. I felt responsible because you were unemployed because of me, and I wanted to help—”

“It wasn’t because of you! Besides, I could have found a job myself. You didn’t need to use your money or power. Did you really think I would feel better about this? Right now, I just feel like a complete idiot. How could you do this to me?”

Maria took Mia’s hand and started to leave. “You two talk it out; we’ll give you some space, come on, Ollie.”

“No, there’s nothing left to say,” you snapped angrily.

"But you'll forgive him later, won't you?" 

"Of course, I love him." 

Oh no, that sounds just like what you told Mia earlier.

Did she record you? 

"Mia!" you complained, glancing at her.

She just shrugged, holding her tablet. "Sorry, my finger slipped."

"That's my girl," Mia said with a giggle, as she high-fived her. 

Oliver chuckled, and Harry smiled. 

But you narrowed your eyes at them, feeling furious. 

"Oops, we should get going," she said to her mother. They quickly headed for the elevator, leaving you alone with Harry.

But before you could go after them, Harry came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off your feet.

“What are you doing? Harry! Put me down!” 

“Nope. You're going to listen, sweetheart. No more running away.” 

“Let go!” you protested, but he refused to budge. 

 He carried you to the couch and set you down next to him, holding your hands tightly, but you turned your head away. 

“Baby, please forgive me. I tried to explain before, but I just couldn’t find the right words. I thought helping you find a job would make you happy. I never meant to offend or hurt you; please believe that.” 

“Did it have to be your house?” you grumbled. 

“Isn’t this better than being at someone else's place?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

His hand trembled as he sighed. “I mean, I hate this too. It hurts to see you so exhausted, to watch you work so hard, and I can’t stand the thought of your beautiful hands being worn down in those cleaning gloves. I want to kiss those lovely fingers, to cherish them.” 

As he began to kiss your fingers one by one, your heart raced. You almost let your guard down, almost kissed him.

Almost.

“Harry,” you whispered. “This is my job, and—” 

“Don’t,” he interjected, frustration evident in his voice. “Can’t you just skip the cleaning? You can keep working with Chef Bruno, but please, no more cleaning.” 

“Is it because you don’t want to introduce your girlfriend in that way?” 

“No, what I mean is—” 

You stood up, your frustration boiling over. “I’m sorry, but this is my life. I have no problem introducing you to my friends, but it seems you hesitate to do the same. I can’t change who I am.” 

He rose to his feet as well. “I don’t know how we ended up here. I never intended for this to happen. Listen-” 

“Harry, you listen. I understand your intentions, and I appreciate them, but I wish you had considered how I might feel in all of this. And I can't do this if...” 

“Wait a minute, why do I feel like you’re giving a breakup speech?” 

“Because I am,” you said, tears brimming in your eyes. 

“No, no, no, don’t do that.” He moved closer, but you took a step back and raised your hand. 

“We agreed there would be no secrets between us, but we couldn’t even manage that. How can our relationship develop from here?” 

“There are no secrets left now that everything is out in the open,” he said, trying to smile. You crossed your arms and bit your lip, acknowledging his point. Then he drew nearer and wrapped his arms around you.

“I promise, baby, there will never be any secrets between us again, I swear,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his breath soft and tender. “Please don’t leave me.” The plea struck deep within you, twisting like a knife. How could you even entertain such a thought? The very idea of parting from him was unbearable, a wound that throbbed in your chest and brought stinging tears to your eyes. It was the last thing you wanted—a painful notion that sent ripples of hurt through your heart.

In that moment, you set aside all other emotions and surrendered to the warmth of his embrace, allowing yourself to rest your head on his chest for a while.

“What about that locked room?” you asked then, glancing toward it, wiping your tears meanwhile. “I wonder what you’re hiding behind that door.” 

A sly grin crept across his face. “Do you want to see it? But promise me that once you see what’s inside, you’ll tell me you love me again, and you won’t leave me. Deal?” 

“It all depends on what’s in there.” 

He chuckled, then walked into the bedroom, still holding your hand. Nervousness washed over you as you tried to pull your hand back. 

“Relax, I’m not trying to lure you into bed,” he laughed. “At least, not right now.” 

“You wish,” you grunted. 

He chuckled as he opened the nightstand drawer. “Funny. You were practically begging me last night. I can still hear you meowing.” 

Your cheeks flushed. “I don’t remember any of that,” you lied. 

He pulled out a box from the drawer and took out a key. “I have the scars on my back to prove it, kitten,” he teased. 

Your face was burning now, as red as a tomato. “Stop it and do what you need to do.” 

Chuckling, he held up the key, “Here it is; come on,” taking your hand again. 

Together, you stood in front of the locked door. Harry inserted the key into the lock and paused to look at you. “Are you ready, baby? The big secret is about to be revealed.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Stop showing off and open the damn door,” you muttered. 

Grinning, he unlocked the door and stepped back, inviting you in with his hand.

You hesitated before stepping into the room, shocked at what you saw. 

To your left stood a massive floor-to-ceiling wardrobe filled with clothes, and to your right was a complete wardrobe of bags and shoes. In the center was an elegant dressing table. Harry slid open the wardrobe, revealing all the clothes and shoes he had ever bought you, carefully arranged. He embraced you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing your cheek. “It’s all yours. This room is for you. I was waiting for you to say yes to me before I revealed it to you.  I kept it locked and tried to stay away, but I found it hard to resist many times,” he whispered, nuzzling along the curve of your neck.

You were rendered speechless, taken aback. Then you noticed a jewelry box on the dresser. “Isn’t that the earring?” You walked over, picked it up, and examined it closely. “Have you had this all along?” 

“Oops, looks like another secret is out,” he said with a chuckle. 

You shot him a pointed look. “You really. Why didn’t you say anything when I told you I would pay you back?” 

“Because you broke my heart,” he replied softly. “You told me you never wanted to see me again, so I thought the earring would be a good excuse to get you to meet me.” 

“You're unbelievable,” you shot back, your irritation surfacing. 

“What about you?” he countered, but then his expression softened as he noticed the look on your face. “I love you,” he confessed, his lips forming the word like an apology. 

Damn he was so cute.

His adorableness made you giggle despite yourself. 

“You didn’t say it again.” 

“Say what?” 

“Do you want me to make you say it? Just like last night,” he whispered, leaning in close. “You remember how well that turned out.” His lips brushed against your earlobe as his hand slowly slipped down, hovering dangerously close to your thigh. Your reaction was instinctive; you caught his hand. However, his lips found their way to your neck, and you couldn't help but bite your lower lip and roll your eyes. “Harry, stop.” 

“I know you want me, baby; don’t try to deny it,” he purred, his voice low and teasing. 

“No, you’re wrong,” you replied, almost breathless. 

“Then why are you holding my hand so tightly?” he whispered, a smirk playing on his lips. 

You withdrew your hand quickly, shocked at your own reaction.

What the fuck?

When did this escalate?

You frowned at his chuckle. “I really hate you,” you whined, though your irritation was half-hearted. 

“No, you don't,” he laughed, clearly enjoying the banter. 

“Well, I really like this room, but that doesn’t mean I forgive you. And it definitely doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into bed with you,” you declared stubbornly. 

“Then what do I need to do to win your forgiveness? I’ll do anything,” he said, voice dripping with seduction.

The look he gave you was enough to make you avert your gaze. 

“I don’t know; I need to think,” you said, fighting back a giggle. “But I have to go now—I told Bruno I would head to the hotel early.” You turned to leave the room. 

He followed right behind you. “I’ll give you a ride.” 

You responded without looking back. “Well, if you’re that eager.”

With a smile, he followed you behind as you walked toward the elevator.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” Harry asked again as he parked the car in front of the hotel.

“You just asked me that five minutes ago."

“I’ll keep asking until you say you forgive me,” he replied, shutting off the engine.

You opened the door and turned to him. “At least let me think it over.”

He took your hand, pulled you closer, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek. “Whatever you say, kitty. Good luck at work.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you said with a faint smile, stepping out and closing the door behind you.

As you made your way to the hotel entrance, Harry watched you from the driver’s seat. Just then, you spotted Alan getting out of his own car, heading your way.

“Good evening,” he greeted you.

You turned and smiled, “Good evening, Mr. Finnegan.”

“Come on, call me Alan already, will you?”

Harry, watching from a distance, muttered, “Asshole.” Trying to keep his cool, he stepped out of the car and approached you two. “Baby,” he called out, and before you could react, he spun you around and kissed you so passionately that it left you breathless. Pulling back, he glanced at Alan and added, “I almost took off without kissing my girlfriend goodbye.” The way he said “girlfriend” caught his attention and everyone around the street.

Alan’s expression darkened.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, caught off-guard by how intimate the kiss had been.

“Anyway, I should be on my way,” he said.

"Yeah, you do that," you said, squinting at him and gesturing for him to leave.

“Good night, Finnegan,” Harry said, getting into his car, clearly amused by Alan's reaction.

Shaking your head at Harry, you noticed Alan squinting at him, clearly unamused. “I didn’t realize you were with him,” Alan said as he walked inside.

“Well, things are a bit complicated,” you murmured.

“Not surprising, things always get messy with Castillo,” Alan muttered quietly. 

“Excuse me?”

“I just... You really should think twice about being with him,” he warned lightly.

“Alan, it’s—”

“Anyway, I suppose my employees’ personal lives are none of my business,” he said with a smirk, heading toward the elevator.

What just happened?

Why had he said that?

And why was he suddenly in a good mood?

You really should have asked Harry about the weird thing between them, but now you had to focus—you had a kitchen to get to.

Things were really hectic in the kitchen, and as if that weren’t enough, Alan was having a business lunch in the dining room and asked you to make some desserts just for him. As you handed off the treats to the waitstaff, he called you over and praised your work. If he wasn’t your boss, you might have said something about his overwhelming attention, but you figured it was best to keep quiet until your internship was over. Then, just when you thought the day couldn’t get any worse, Melanie called.

“What do you want?” you asked, annoyed.

“What do I want? I need you to talk to my dad, and I want you to do it right now, like you promised!”

“I will, but I've been super busy and haven’t had time yet.”

“Well, it’s on you. If my dad doesn’t let me come back home, I’ll just crash at your place.”

“Wait, what? You called my house a disgusting little flat. Aren’t you with Nate? Can’t he help you out?”

“Don’t even mention that jerk!”

“Did you two break up already? Wow, that was quick, even for you.”

“Just drop it, okay? It’s none of your business. Talk to my dad tomorrow night or I’ll make your life miserable!”

“As if you weren’t already a pain in my ass!” you shot back and hung up in frustration. As you walked toward the exit, muttering under your breath, someone called out from behind.

Ugh, it was Alan again.

“Are you okay? You sounded like you were venting at someone on the phone,” he said, wearing that annoying smile.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“Well, if you did it, they probably deserved it,” he said, grinning.

Just when you thought it was over, you turned to leave but almost bumped into the revolving door. Alan grabbed your arm, pulling you back.

“Watch out!” he said.

What the hell?

You could’ve easily dodged the door; you weren't that clumsy. His other arm wrapped around you, too.

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” you said, carefully pushing his hand away. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” he replied, watching you walk away as you stormed out. Your phone buzzed again, but you ignored it; you weren’t in the mood for more of Melanie’s drama.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Harry.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone? Are you okay?” he asked, and just seeing him made you feel so much better.

“Yeah, sorry, thought it was Melanie,” you said, spotting the bouquet of pink roses he was holding.

“Is she still being a pain?”

“Forget about her; I’ll handle it. Are those for me?” you asked, trying to hide your smile.

“Of course they are, beautiful,” he said, handing you the flowers.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a whiff of the roses.

“Come on, let’s get to the car.”

As you walked together, he leaned closer. “Am I forgiven?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not in a day, ol'man.”

Harry sighed and opened the back door for you. “So, if I asked you to spend the night at my apartment instead of going home, you wouldn’t consider it?”

Ah, damn...

Those puppy-dog eyes and dangerously tempting lips made it hard to say no, but you somehow managed to act like you weren't interested, thanks to your stubbornness.

And the oscar goes to...

“N-no, sorry, I need to check on Zoe. She’s still home alone,” you stammered.

He sighed again and closed the door after you settled in the car.

“Hey, Ollie,” you said while he was chilling in the driver’s seat.

“Hey, girl! How’s it going? You two good now?”

“We’re good, right, baby?” Harry said, sitting next to you.

“Kind of,” you muttered, still eyeing the roses in your lap.

“Kind of?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged, teasing him.

“Come on, really? Okay, I’m taking you on a date tomorrow night, and we’re going to sort everything out,” Harry grumbled.

“Uh-oh,” Oliver chimed in as he drove.

You squinted at Harry. “If you ask me with that tone, you might be going on that date alone.”

“Okay, sorry,” he said with a sigh. "Would you like to accompany me for dinner tomorrow night, lovely lady?"

You giggled but kept your expression cool. “Um, let me check my calendar first.”

Oliver chuckled.

Harry squinted again.

“Alright, fine. But I need to have a quick chat with Jack tomorrow. If he agrees, you can pick me up at the hotel again.”

He smiled widely taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “As you wish, darling.”

As you stepped into the apartment, the sweet scent of the bouquet Harry had given you lingered in the air, enveloping you until you finally reached your place with the flowers cradled in your arms. When you opened the door and walked inside, you were taken aback by the scene in front of you.

“Oh sweet Jesus!”

John and Zoe were on the couch, wrapped up in a passionate kiss—thankfully, they were fully dressed. The moment they noticed you, they pulled apart, and John shot up from the couch, his face a canvas of embarrassment.

But you felt even more embarrassed. “Oh, I’m sorry, guys, I, uh…”

“No, no, no, I’m so sorry!” John stuttered, quickly averting his gaze, adjusting his hair.

“Awkward,” Zoe murmured, covering her mouth in surprise. “I thought you were with your boyfriend,” she added, glancing at you and the bouquet still in your hands.

“Well, yeah… I mean, no, I wasn’t. It’s a long story.”

“I’d better be going. Bye, girls. Good night,” John said, grabbing his jacket and making a hasty exit.

Once the door closed behind him, you turned back to Zoe. "Jesus, girl, what just happened?"

Zoe huffed in disbelief. "I have no idea! He helped me change my bandage, touched my leg and then… suddenly we kissed. It was so strange, but it felt amazing."

“Strange”? You seemed pretty into it."

“It might have turned into something really hot if you hadn’t barged in,” she replied with a hint of annoyance.

“Sue me,” you muttered, placing the flowers in a vase on the table.

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. You were with him last night, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, it’s a long story.”

“Still not officially together? Seriously, get your shit together already. What’s going on with you two?”

You let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Just when I think things are finally going well, something messes it all up, and I'm left feeling hurt again…”

“Uh-oh, spill everything.”

"Okay, do you want something cold to drink?"

"Yes, please! I’m dying of heat over here."

You giggled as you made your way to the fridge. “So if I had come in five minutes later, would you have been completely undressed? Good thing I didn’t.”

“You're so bad,” she laughed.

You began the day with that text that pinged on your phone the moment you woke up, that familiar message from the person you had been longing to hear from, the one you had been waiting for eagerly.

Morning, kitten. The sun is shining, the birds are singing— Isn't it the perfect day to make you feel like forgiving?

Was he rhyming?

He was really good at it or bad not sure, but he would have to try a little harder.

Hmm. I'm not sure if today is the day. You'll know for sure tonight, doll. I'll make you. Hmm, how ambitious. Always I am.

After you changed, you stepped into the living room and saw Zoe was getting ready.

“Where are you off to?”

“To the hospital to get my ankle checked.”

“Do you want some company?”

“John will,” she replied with a cheeky smile. “Besides, you’ll be off on your date with Harry tonight, right?”

Your cheeks warmed at the thought. “Well, yes, maybe.”

“I’m planning to invite John over for dinner, and he’d better come clean about something tonight.”

“Oh, I see, you’re trying to get rid of me, huh?”

"Come on, he shares an apartment with three guys; it’s more convenient for us to be here."

“Okay, don’t worry, I won’t crash tonight,” you replied with a grin, thoughts drifting to Harry’s bedroom.  

“Awesome!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.  

“Wow, you could be a bit less eager about this.”

“Sorry, but I can’t help it, I’m in love,” she said, giggling.  

“Apology accepted,” you responded, grabbed your bag, and headed out the door. Just then, you bumped into John in the hallway. “Hey."

“Hey there. How’s work treating you?”

"Good. Listen, John, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what’s up?"

"Do you have feelings for Zoe?"

"Yes, she’s a wonderful person, and cute too," he said, smiling.

He was definitely into her.

“I mean, I thought there was something going on between you and that woman Lucy at the wedding. I need to know if you really like Zoe.”

"Lucy is just my childhood friend and ex. But, don't you know her already?"

"I only know she's Alan's girlfriend and a matchmaker."

John crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Surprised that Castillo hasn’t told you about her."

“What’s there to tell?”

John let out a troubled sigh. “You know, I’m not sure if it’s a good time for me to drop this on you, but those two were actually together a few years ago.”

Damn, you were worried about this. "So that’s why," you murmured after a brief pause.  

“Listen, he will share the details with you, but Lucy isn't like you or Zoe. She deceived both me and Castillo, leaving us heartbroken in the end. I can't hold a grudge against her because we share this strange bond, but I promise you, I’ll never hurt Zoe because of this."

You nodded. "It better stay that way, John. You should tell her as soon as possible, or I will," you said. After receiving a nod from him, you turned and headed down the stairs to leave the building.

All day long, as you worked, your thoughts kept drifting back to Lucy. You regretted asking John about her. It wasn’t just that Harry hadn’t mentioned her—after all, that was fine considering the incident had happened years ago. What truly unnerved you was the possibility of her showing up at any moment, especially as Alan's girlfriend. It felt like trouble was just around the corner, and you couldn’t shake that feeling. Alan himself was another source of tension; his frequent encounters with you and his growing interest were weighing heavily on your mind. You knew deep down that sooner or later, things were bound to get complicated.

You really hoped this internship would wrap up soon, and that Chef Bruno would write you a glowing letter of recommendation. Yet, with the fair approaching and the day ticking down, you had to press on through the culinary internship.

Earlier, you'd called Jack, and he had already said he wanted to meet. As you waited at the table, you spotted him approaching and stood up to greet him. "Thanks for taking the time to meet me here," you said, shaking Jack's hand as he took a seat across from you.

"Of course, no problem," he replied, settling into his seat.

"Jack, about Melanie—"

"Save your breath, honey. I’m not here for her."

You were taken aback. "What do you mean? I thought that’s why you came—"

He pulled out a bunch of newspapers and magazines from his bag and dropped them on the table with a bang, making the glasses and plates rattle.

Your eyes went wide. “What’s all this?”

“Why don’t you check for yourself?”

Following his lead, you picked up the top magazine, and your heart sank at the sight of your own image on the cover. Someone had captured a photo of you and Harry dancing at the wedding from a distance.

Who is the mystery girl dancing with famous businessman Harry Castillo? the headline read.

You quickly grabbed another magazine, revealing a picture of you and Melanie.

Get ready for a surprising twist! How did the maid in Melanie Johnson's mansion pretend to be her and trap a famous billionaire?

“Ugh, what a bunch of vultures,” you muttered, shaking your head.

As you continued flipping through the articles, the headlines turned more shocking. Words like "gold digger," "sneaky housekeeper," and "fortune hunter" jumped out at you.

"That's what I was warning you about," Jack said. "I don't want you to worry, though—none of these magazines have been printed yet. These are all test editions. We managed to confiscate them before they went into mass production, and Harry’s assistant has ensured the online stories have been taken down."

You looked up at him, relief washing over you. "Thank you, Jack."

"You don’t need to thank me for dealing with the news, which includes Melanie; I did that for my own reasons. But regarding the rest..." He pointed to the magazine cover with your dancing picture. "This is the thing I wanted to discuss. I see you as a daughter, so take this advice from a father to his daughter: end whatever is happening between you and Harry before it spirals out of control. If this keeps up, there’ll be more stories about you, people will dig into your past, and in the end, it’s you who’ll get hurt. Do you understand?"

You sighed. "Jack, I honestly get what you’re saying, and I do appreciate it. But there's nothing in my past or family that I’m worried about. Gossip like this finds someone new to focus on every day; it could just as easily be me one day and someone else the next."

He paused for a moment, then nodded slowly. "So, it appears there's something more between you two than I realized. You've made up your mind. Well, it's your life, after all. I just hope you don’t wind up hurt and come to regret this decision.”

"Jack."

You both turned your heads, and damn it was—Alan. He usually didn’t come to the hotel on Saturday nights, but today was clearly an exception.

Of course.

Jack stood up to shake his hand. "Alan."

"How are you? Didn’t see you at the wedding."

"I was in D.C.," Jack replied. Just then, his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered. Alan looked at you with a smile, and you returned it.

Damn, he might have noticed the magazines on the table, you thought.

"Sorry, I’ve got to leave," Jack said suddenly.

You stood up, worry creeping in. "Is everything okay?"

"Melanie," he hissed, frustration clear in his voice. "She ran away from home."

"What do you mean she ran away? Or have you been keeping her locked up?" Your voice rose higher than you meant it to.

You couldn't shake off the memory of that one time Jack had locked her in her room, and it had ended poorly. A shudder ran through you at the thought.

"I had no choice. I thought she’d see reason and come to her senses, but apparently, I was wrong."

"Jack, are you out of your mind? Do you really not know your daughter? Locking her up isn’t the solution!"

Heads in the dining room turned toward you.

"You’re right. I messed up this time, but I couldn’t let her keep hanging out with that playboy Nate."

"I can’t say I blame you for that," you replied quietly.

"Anyway, I really have to go. Catch you later, Alan."

"See you, Jack."

As Jack strolled away, casting a backward glance, a heavy sadness settled in your chest. Melanie hadn't matured much and was acting like a nightmare. Despite his faults, Jack was a good father—if only he showed a little more genuine care to his daughter more than his work.

"Sounds like Melanie’s giving Jack a rough time," Alan said, still holding onto that smile.

"Yeah, she’s a bit immature," you admitted quietly.

To your surprise, Alan looked around the table and sat down in Jack’s vacated chair.

"Have a seat; your dessert's still waiting."

You did your best to keep it together and not roll your eyes. "Thanks, but I really need to go—"

"Just give me five minutes, alright?" he said, leaning in a bit closer.

You glanced at your watch, thinking about how Harry would be picking you up in about an hour. With a sigh, you plopped back down. "Fine."

"Thanks," he said, adjusting his suit jacket and settling in. "I know what happened here last time." You looked at him in surprise; this wasn't what you expected. "About what Lucy did..." He paused and took a breath. "I want to say sorry on her behalf."

Your eyes widened. “Alan, it’s okay. But if you start treating me differently because of her, it will only make her dislike me more. Plus, this kind of stuff probably isn't over yet."

“It won’t happen again,” he stated firmly. “I won’t allow it in my hotel. I broke up with her, and I doubt she will be coming back here.”

“That can’t be the only reason you decided to break up with her, right?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No, but it played a part. It’s disgraceful to have such disrespect shown here, especially towards our customers. I was wrong about her; she’s not the kind and innocent person I thought she was.”

"I’m sorry," you said, your tone a touch insincere.

"Not me," he replied with a grin. "I’m kind of relieved."

What was that supposed to mean?

A nagging feeling grew as you sensed he was gearing up to say something you wouldn’t like.

"One of the reasons I broke up was because of a question she asked me."

Oh, please, let this be over.

"She wanted to know if I had feelings for you."

You fought to maintain a neutral expression.

Don't say that, please don't.

"I couldn't answer her because, honestly, I actually have feelings for you that I didn't realize until now."

That was more than you could handle.

"Alan, do you even realize what you’re saying?"

"Yes, I’m fully aware."

You sighed deeply. "Maybe you’re mistaken," you suggested, looking away and starting to shake your foot nervously.

"No, I absolutely know how I feel now. I like you." He reached across the table and took your hand, catching you off guard.

You quickly pulled away. "Alan, I’m with Harry."

"You mentioned before that things were complicated between you two," he said, casually picking up one of the magazines.

"That doesn’t mean I don’t love him," you shot back, your voice sharp.

His serious expression told you he wasn’t taking it lightly.

You stood up, feeling a surge of urgency. "Look, Alan, whatever you’re feeling, you need to let it go, or I won’t be able to stay here."

"Are you really going to quit your internship?"

"If I have to, yes," you affirmed.

"Alright, I won’t pressure you unless you come to me yourself."

Surprise and annoyance washed over you. "That’s not going to happen."

He leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile on his face. "Don’t be so sure; life has a funny way of surprising us.”

What the fuck?

Your phone started ringing, and you just held it in your hand without answering as you rushed out of the dining room, still shaken by what had just happened. It was Nate calling, so you definitely weren't picking up; you quickly silenced your phone. Taking a deep breath, you let it all go and shifted your focus to getting ready for your date. Harry had offered to buy you a dress again earlier, but you turned him down. This date was meant to feel like a fresh start, a first date of sorts, and you wanted to treat yourself to the entire process.

During lunch break, you popped into one of those upscale department stores and slipped into the black, shimmering backless dress you had chosen—probably the priciest dress you had ever bought, costing almost four months' salary. You tried to keep a positive mindset; nothing would ruin tonight. The expensive Birman black shoes that Melanie had given you the night before matches perfectly with the dress. Just as you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup, your phone rang again, but your smile quickly faded when you glanced at the screen.

It wasn’t Harry.

Seeing "Trouble" light up the screen only added to your anxiety.

No way were you picking up.

The phone could ring its heart out. When it rang again as you reached for your red lipstick—perfectly matching your nails—you pushed on, determined to finish your look.

However, the incessant ringing soon got on your nerves, and you finally answered, ready to give Melanie a piece of your mind. “Look, I can’t deal with your drama right now—”

“It’s me, Garry.”

You could barely hear him over the loud music in the background. “Garry? What are you doing on Melanie’s phone? And where in the world are you?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on her for a while; she’s completely wasted, and I don’t know how to handle this. Please, I need your help.”

“Look, I have a very important date tonight—”

“And it seems we have our new volunteer dancer!” a woman’s voice chimed in, followed by masculine cheers and applause.

Oh man.

“Don’t tell me you’re at a strip club!”

“You just heard it. I’ll try to drag her out of here, but you need to hurry. I’ll send you the location.” Garry hung up before you could say anything. “Garry! Hold on—what the hell! What kind of night is this?” you exclaimed, quickly changing up your outfit and bolting out of the room.

When the taxi driver brought you in front of the strip club, you were cursing inside, nervous and angry. It was too much, the strip club was too much, even for her. How could she be so thoughtless and reckless?

At the entrance to the door, unfortunately, everyone was staring at you, including the women.

Oh that's right, you were all dressed up, probably looked breathtaking, but it wasn't to come here, damn it, it was to meet your boyfriend. 

Things got even worse when you entered the club. You've never been in a club like this before, it wasn't like other nightclubs.

You're thinking, No shit, I wish it was.

The music was blaring, and two girls were dancing on stage. Some men were cheering and staring at you.

Great.

Ignoring the gazes, you spotted Garry and made your way to him. However, just like the other guys, he seemed fixated on the girls performing. “Hey!” you nudged him.

“Oh you're here? Wow girl, you look great, but I wish you hadn't come here wearing a dress like this.” he said, looking around at the men.

“I couldn't change because you called me while I was getting ready for my date.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, but Melanie's gone crazy.”

“Where is she?”

“She was going on stage and tripped and fell, I was tried to check her but the women wouldn't let me in. That's why I called you.”

“Goddamn it,” you grumbled, shoving your purse at him. “Hold this, I’ll go get her, and then we’ll all head to the car together, okay?”

“Got it. I’ll wait here.”

Just as you left, Garry couldn’t help himself when your phone started ringing non-stop. He didn’t think to check your purse without asking, but when it rang like crazy, he finally picked it up. “Yeah?”

Harry nearly wrecked his car when he heard a guy’s voice on the other end. “Who the hell are you? Why are you answering my girlfriend’s phone?”

“Mr. Castillo, you probably don’t remember me, but I’m Mr. Johnson's driver.”

“Wait, is that club music I hear? Where is she?”

“We're at the strip club. It’s kind of complicated.”

Harry was stunned and slammed on the brakes, making the tires screech on the road. The car behind him honked and yelled, but he didn’t care. “Just tell me where the club is!”

"Melanie, I swear to God, if you don't come with me right now, I'll drag you out of here by yanking your hair if I have to! I'll do it, believe me, I will!"

“Not until Nate gets here!” she snapped.

The girl was not only drunk but also trying to climb onto the stage. You were tugging at her from behind the curtain, hoping Garry could lend a hand, but she was putting up a fight.

“Hey, you two, get lost! Stay clear of the stage!” one of the dancers hissed at you.

“I'm not interested; as you see, I'm trying to get her out of here!” you retorted, still struggling to pull Melanie back.

“No! I’m going up there! I paid for it!” Melanie shouted defiantly.

“What did you just say?” you exclaimed, bewildered. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Leave them alone, girls,” an older woman chimed in, casting a knowing glance at you. “The guys who wanted you on stage shelled out a lot of cash,” she said with a sly smile.

Melanie laughed. “See? They’re dying to see me! Nate needs to get over here right now, call him!”

“It wasn’t for you,” the woman replied, eyes darting between Melanie and you. She surveyed you up and down, a smirk playing on her lips. “They paid for you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m not a dancer or stripper.”

“That doesn’t matter, darling. You look fantastic. I could even give you half the take.”

“What the fuck? You promised me that I’d go on stage! Not her!”

You narrowed your eyes and glared at Melanie. “No one’s going up there!” you shouted firmly.

“Enough with this! Girls,” the woman called out, and the two dancers approached you, trying to take off your jacket.

“Hey! Get your hands off me! What do you think you’re doing?” you exclaimed, wrestling against them.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t overreact. Just trust yourself,” she replied, grabbing your wrist. But before she could pull you away, someone else seized her arm and pushed it back.

“Leave her alone!”

When you spotted Harry, a mix of surprise and embarrassment washed over you, yet relief followed quickly. He grabbed your arm, pulling you behind him, and draped his jacket around you, wrapping you with it.

“Hey, mister, what do you think you’re doing?” the woman asked, taken aback.

"If you touch my girl again, I'll bring this club down!" Harry growled.

Just then, a man approached you two, dressed in a suit. "Mr. Castillo, there's been a terrible misunderstanding. Please forgive us, sir." He then turned to the girls. "Get back to work and return the money to those customers." 

"And give me back my jacket!" you shouted. 

Harry reached over, snatched it from one of the girls, and pulled you closer. "Are you okay?" 

You nodded. "Yeah, thanks. Melanie! Harry, stop her!" you exclaimed, pointing at her. Harry grasped her arm and pulled her away from the stage. 

That's when Nate strolled in, his phone in hand, ready to take pictures. "Oh no, did I miss the show?"

The son of a bitch was grinning.

"It's all your fault!" you shot back at him. 

Garry came over to Melanie. "Miss Johnson, let’s head to the car, please." 

Melanie clung to Harry's arm touching his face. "Hey, old man, want a lap dance?" She was clearly trying to make Nate jealous, but it was Harry she had her hands on. 

Your man. 

Harry chuckled as he gently pushed her hand away. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not interested."

Wait a minute.

Not only was Melanie, but almost all the women dancers were looking Harry up and down. A wave of jealousy washed over you.

And then you lost it.

You were so angry that you pulled her off of him by the hair. "You little slut, who do you think you're touching?" You pushed her towards Nate. "Take your girlfriend and get the hell out of my life! Garry, you call Jack right now!" you said to him. Grabbing Harry's hand tightly, "Let's get the hell out of here." you urged.

He was still laughing as you pulled him out with you.

“Stop laughing, Harry,” you scolded as you made your way to the car.

“But you were so cute when you protected me from real Melanie back there,” he replied, still chuckling.

You paused and turned to face him. “Are you really enjoying this?”

“Actually I don’t know what to think. Do you know how angry I was when I saw you here with those women? And those men… the way they look at you? I think I hate the real Melanie.”

“Welcome to the club,” you replied sarcastically. “But I’m sorry; you are right. I shouldn't have come here. Tonight was supposed to be special, and now it’s all ruined—just like my hair,” you said, running your fingers through your locks.

Harry glanced at the clock. “Um, the restaurant is about to close.”

“I really messed up,” you said, biting your lip. “I’ve ruined everything.”

He gently took your face in his hands. “Nothing’s ruined, baby. We’re going to plan B.”

“You had a plan B?” you asked, intrigued.

“I just came up with it,” he said with a grin. “Come on, we’re starting over.”

You smiled. “Okay, but where’s your car?”

“There it is,” he said, pointing to a red sport car.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “But it’s a Mustang GT!”

“That’s right. I rented it just for tonight,” he said, pulling the keys from his pocket and handing them to you. “So, am I forgiven now?”

You snatched the keys from his grasp. “Let me take it for a spin, and I’ll think about it.”

He laughed, and as you slid into the driver’s seat, he took the passenger seat beside you. You fastened your seatbelt and started the engine. “Hold on tight, ol'man.”

“Drive carefully, honey. The streets of New York are a whole different beast compared to the traffic you dealt with back in Paris.” 

You shot him a playful glance before slamming your foot on the gas. “I accept the challenge.”

“Hey, that wasn’t a challenge,” he retorted, his eyes wide as he clutched the seat.

You laughed, the thrill coursing through you. “Relax! A little excitement never hurt anyone.”

“You excite me enough in that dress, babe,” he grinned, glancing at you with a mix of admiration and mischief. 

After a few exhilarating laps, embarrassment washed over you when the flashing lights of a police radar caught you speeding through the night. Still, you found a way to enjoy the moment, laughing together as you swung by a 24-hour diner to grab some late-night munchies before heading toward Harry’s building. “Wow, that was an incredible ride."

“Yeah, it was a blast, even if it’s going to cost me a few hundred bucks in fines,” Harry said, opening the car door.

“Oops, sorry about that,” you said, stepping out of the car.

As he opened the trunk, he pulled out a huge bouquet of roses. “If it hadn’t been for that strip club incident, I would have met you at the hotel with this.”

“Harry,” you murmured, touched.

“Here you go, Cinderella—99 roses.”

You raised an eyebrow as you accepted the bouquet. “Why not a hundred?”

“That’s you,” he said, smiling sweetly. “The hundredth rose is you.”

You felt yourself melting at his words.

“That’s very romantic, ol'man. Thank you,” you said, reaching out to kiss his cheek.

“So, you forgive me now, right?” he asked, extending his arm so you could take it.

“Come here,” you said, encouraging him to lean closer. He complied, and you shared a tender kiss, sweet and gentle. “You’re forgiven, Mr. Castillo.” 

He grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning in to kiss you again, this time with more passion, the world around you fading away. But since you were still out on the street, you gently pushed him back, laughter in your eyes. “Save the rest for later, mister.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer with one arm still wrapped around your waist, and together you strolled toward the entrance.

“Here we have some Bordeaux wine,” he said as you unpacked the food and set the plates on the table. 

“Parfait,” you replied with a smile, embracing the French language. 

With skilled hands, he uncorked the wine using a polished corkscrew, the soft pop echoing in the cozy room, and poured the ruby liquid into your glasses, its rich color glinting in the soft light. 

“Hmm, delicious,” you remarked, savoring the first sip. 

As you shared the meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving in and out of tales about Melanie and the others, laughter bubbling up like the wine in your glasses. “That’s actually much better,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of the evening. “I mean, it’s better that we’re here than in a bustling restaurant.”

“I couldn’t agree more; it’s just the two of us,” he replied, his fingers entwining with yours.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your gaze locking with his, a deep connection simmering in the air between you. 

He sighed and stood up, a hint of excitement in his voice. “I have something for you.” 

“Another surprise?” you asked, intrigued. 

He returned with a small box, sitting back down and handing it to you across the table. Different from any jewelry box you’d seen, it piqued your curiosity.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day. There’s something I’ve come to realize. I’ve wanted you to be in my world, but I was wrong, I was missing something,” he explained as you opened the box. 

Inside lay a card and a key

At once, you recognized them; it was the same card and key you had used so many times for the elevator and the door of the apartment. “Harry,” you breathed out, astonished. 

“You said you don’t belong in my world, so let me into yours.” 

Your eyes filled with tears as you rose and embraced him tightly. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” 

He pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you before leaning in for a kiss. Then, he turned on some soft music from the stereo. “Will you dance with me?” 

You nodded. “Absolutely.” 

You found yourselves swaying together, lost in the slow, sweet melody, savoring the magic of the moment in comfortable silence.

But then the tension between you began to rise. Harry ran his hand through the fabric of your dress. “Great choice of dress by the way.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he whispered.

“What about my bra?” you said huskily, guiding his hand to the lace strap of it.

“I admire it,” he purred.

You lifted the skirt of the dress, revealing your lace garter stockings. “My stockings?” your eyes twinkling.

He smiled at you and reached out, drawing a circle on your leg with his fingertip. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “I worship it, baby,” he said, his voice breathy and deep.

Your arm found its way around his waist, and your fingertips caressed his back. “Mmm. Keep doing that, please.”

He chuckled and continued, his hands slowly creeping up under your dress. You gave a deep, breathy moan when he latched on to the spot behind your ear, licking, sucking. Getting eager, you found his lips and kissed him, your tongue sweeping into his mouth tentatively. He responded by grabbing your hips and pulling you, lifting you into his lap. Then you broke the kiss to unbutton his shirt.

Taking a brief moment to admire you he let you stripped him out of his shirt before kissing you deeply, exploring your mouth hungrily. Popping the clasp on your bra with ease he let it fell to the floor, whilst he kissed a path between your breasts leaving a trail of goose flesh in his wake. Noticing your nipples were already pert betraying your arousal, taking one between his thumb and forefinger he rolled it making you cried out, lowering his head he circled you other with his tongue before drawing it into his hot mouth and sucking. He could feel his cock straining against the his pants but he ignored it focusing all his attention on you. He repeated the action with your other nipple before moving on, his lips gliding down over your ribs, across your stomach towards the garter belt and waistband of your panties.

Hooking his thumbs into the lace, he pulled the small scrap of material down your shapely legs until you could kick them off, but letting the garter belt still be on you. Kneeling before you he cupped your hips bringing you closer to him inhaling your scent, then he ran his tongue along your wet folds the cry that escaped you when he circled your clit was guttural, he felt his cock throb begging for attention but he ignored it once again. Slowly he worked you over, teasing you with shallow thrusts of his tongue into your velvety softness over and over again until your skin was slick with sweat and your thighs began to tremble.

“Please,” you begged, your fingers tangled in his curls, clinging to him. In answer to your plea, he flicked his tongue over your swollen bundle of nerves until you cried out when your orgasm hit. Keeping a tight grip on your hips, he held you steady, letting you ride it out before kissing his way back up your body, finally claiming your lips once more. You tasted yourself on his tongue, but you didn’t care; you devoured each other desperately.

Once your equilibrium returned, your hands found his belt, quickly you unbuckled it and pulled it from the loops before popping the buttons on his fly and pushing the material down over his hips. He shucked his pants and his boxers off and before he knew it your hand was around the base of his throbbing member and you were pumping him into your fist. He gritted his teeth, "Fuck, baby, you are such a needy kitten aren't you? Good girl. But there’s no way I’ll last if you keep that up."

Taking your hands in his, he threaded your fingers together and crushed his lips to yours once more, pinning you against the wall with your interlocked hands above your head. You gasped in response. His aching cock lied heavily against your core, you shuddered. He realized he couldn’t stand it anymore; he needed to be inside you.

Hoisting you up, he hooked your legs around his waist, pushing into you in one smooth stroke.

"Harry," you moaned, feeling dizzy with incredible consuming lust.

Your hair was plastered to your sweaty face now and in the throes of passion when your pupils dilate, cheeks flushed.

"You're breathtakingly beautiful just like this, darling," he hummed.

You were soft and warm, and your walls gripped him tightly as he thrust into you, making love to you against the wall. God he’s missed you so damn much, burying his head into the crook of your shoulder he picked up his pace, he knew you were close because he can feel your inner walls begin to tremble around him. Your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, your heels press into his firm ass as he pounds into you deeper and deeper.

As you ran your fingers through his hair down to his neck, spurring him on with sweet cries. "Harder, faster, please."

"Fuck," he growled, pressed his forehead against yours so that he held your gaze as your second orgasm striked. You screamed his name as your body locked up, your sex gripping his cock in an iron grasp.

He made an incoherent sound and cursed as your orgasm triggered his, and he released himself inside of you. You collapsed into each other a hot, sticky, sweaty mess, panting heavily. When finally he caught his breath, he ran his nose along your smiling devilishly down at you.

“So how was it, baby?” he asked waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Fast, delicious, hair-raisingly good,” you giggled.

"How about a second round? This time in the bedroom?" he panted, still catching his breath.

You tightened your arms around him playfully. “You betcha, mister."

Just as your words finished, he scooped you up and rushed toward the bedroom, causing your laughter to ring out cheekily through the hall.

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your comments, likes, and reblogs. I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter!

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[k1mbe3rly]

Hii Kimberly can you do something where reader is Geum Seong-je gf. They got into fight. And uhm they do angry sex. (Also can I be your 🥒 anon?)

angry sex

warnings: smut, arguing, rough sex, slight name calling (during argument), baby trapping? talks about pregnancy

Dating Geum seong je was complicated, especially with him being apart of the union (gang), beating people up, and not controlling his anger. You guys are always seen arguing and disagreeing on many things.

Y’all have been arguing all day, no reason just either he picks up an attitude and says something annoying and you just bite back with the same tone, the both of y’all were getting ready for bed but of course he wouldn’t go to bed without an argument, bringing up something stupid about you staring at some guy in a flirt way

“I saw the way you were fucking staring at him i’m not dumb i have eyes.” He says in a cold tone staring right at you, you rolled your eyes getting in bed, “Your just being paranoid, or your just starting something for no reason! let’s just go to bed!” you raised your voice slightly, “I wouldn’t have to start something if you weren’t eye fucking every guy like a slut!” he said raising his voice as well, your eyes snapped at him as you sat up, “I wouldn’t have too if you would just actually treat me better in bed instead of being a little minion!” you said back

He was quick to grab your neck and pin you down on the bed, his face hovered over yours, “what the fuck did you just say? repeat it again you little bitch.” he said, your hand went to his wrist to pull him off as you frowned and glared at him not daring to say anything else, “So now your quiet? now you don’t wanna speak huh?” he said spreading your legs with his knees getting between them

He removed his hands from your neck quickly tearing off your pants without a thought and smoothly, making you gasp in shock as you sat up, “I think..your little pussy just needs some attention. Always fucking complaining. Never shutting up, will this make you shut the fuck up?” he whispered pulling down your panties, he quickly took off his own pants pulling down his boxers low enough for his cock to be out

Roughly spreading your legs as he practically slammed into you, you moaned out loudly at the sudden feeling of him filling you up. “So fucking annoying. So fucking loud.” He said as if he isn’t about to fuck you with all his pent up anger

He started thrusting in and out of you at fast pace, not slow at all, not giving you prep or time to adjust, his movements just as rough and angry as he is, he grabs your throat again squeezing slightly as he fucks into you over and over again, your loud moans falling out of your mouth uncontrollably, the sound of the bed softly creaking and skin being slapped together multiple times, his eyes flash with anger and satisfaction at your loud moans and the sex sounds

“Why do you look at men like you want them to fuck you huh? i’m the one who fucks you, i’m the one who’s fucking you right now” he growled out, his tone slightly breathless, not being able to answer all that came out was moans and moans, his rough pace never slowing down as he than ripped your shirt wanting to see how your boobs bounce all over the place, he smirked like a crazy person his eyes locked on them watching as they spill out your bra

Already feeling your orgasm approach, tightening around him, he suddenly pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up, he slaps your ass hard before entering you again from behind, his hands gripping your waist tightly and slamming back in, your head falling into the pillow muffling your moans but not good enough, still loud enough for anyone to hear

He wanted to hear your moans loud and clear as he grabs a fistful of your hair, using it to tilt your head back as he pounds into you relentlessly, your back arched, he looks down to where his cock is connected to you seeing it disappear in and out of you fast, his hips slamming into you, he groans loudly as he throws his head back, his eyes slightly flickering up

Your orgasm was quick to build up again, his stamina was impressive and shocking a bit, the way his pace never slows down not even a bit if instead it goes faster, his cock hitting spots you never thought could be hit, your moans we’re very very loud, you wanted to cum with him but you couldn’t hold it anymore and releasing on his cock, he feels your hot sticky liquid as he looks back down seeing it as he begins to leak, he grins widely

Releasing your hair, he begins to speed up, slapping your ass multiple times, watching as it jiggles against him, he groans again leaning down, “Fuck i’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum inside you, maybe you’ll get fucking pregnant and be able to stay trapped here with me.” he growls, his cock practically punishing your insides as he groans loudly and cums inside you, he slows down and grinds into you, his pelvis rubbing against you as he softly groans, he chuckles a bit and stays there

After a moment or two he slowly pulls out watching mixed cum leak out of you, “No no no..i wanna keep that inside you..i want my baby with you, would you want that?” he whispers to you his fingers pushing back the juices, you simply just nodded and a soft whine escaped your mouth, he smiles a bit, “Let’s get you all cleaned up..are you okay?” he asks with genuine concern, you nodded again.

[annemjw]

It’s a bit of a running joke with my team at work, but any time we have to do icebreaker stuff or meet new folk, my fun fact is that I got to work with The Muppets, and it is the absolute highlight of my career.

A few years ago the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra and Bret McKenzie hosted the Jim Henson Retrospectacle, featuring the Muppets, Fraggles, Sesame Street, and music from The Dark Crystal. My choir, Supertonic, was asked to be the choir supporting this, over the three-show engagement.

When I found out we’d been asked and could I get time off from work to do it, I basically RAN to my boss, I said I’d come in early, work late, take time off without pay, whatever she needed so I could do the rehearsals and performances. She told me to take just normal time off and that of course it was fine 😅

It’s truly one of the best things I’ve ever been able to do, and I’m been singing semi-professionally for about 20 years now.

We were told early on about how there were strict rules about the characters from the different properties not being allowed to be on stage at the same time, that there were strict rules about not touching anything, not improvising, sticking to what the producers needed to have happen.

It didn’t all go out the window (we were all very respectful of the touching! And the entries and exits kept the legal issues sorted for the copyrights or whatever) but everyone was having far too much fun for it to stay serious.

The first violinist who had the solo for The Count’s number had of course played far more difficult music, but the second they decided that they needed to have the batties come out and fly around him while he played his face lit up

The performers were absolutely lovely all the time, and had so much love and respect for what they were doing and the fact that we were all there together

We had foldback speakers as we were up and behind from the main stage (so that meant we could hear the music and the cues from the performers), and at one point one of the Henson people had a hot mic and was backstage - all of us were I think a bit worried that a façade would drop but he was just back there saying hi to people and having nice conversations

We had three sopranos who have incredible, clear, bell-like tones at a high pitch and who had a solo for the Dark Crystal part of the set. The look on everyone’s faces the first time we ran that and they sang - our country’s national orchestra and people who had worked all over the world with incredible performers - whipping around to hear that because it was so beautiful

The did a bit with Man or Muppet where they had had a Bret Muppet made, so you had Bret, Walter the Muppet, and a Bret Muppet - but they needed a Walter human, so they asked our Director of Music to do it, and act and sing with them on the fly (he’s an incredible bass singer, and absolutely nailed the acting, our friends who came to see us lost their minds)

Every performance started with Rainbow Connection, and the lights would fall on Kermit and Bret and the banjo would start and the crowd would collectively gasp and go ‘aww’, and then crack-up laughing that they’d all done it. All three performances!

There was a person working at the venue who was a woman probably in her early 20s, who was running around doing stage stuff and generally just her job - and they literally needed an extra hand for some puppetting (including the batties!) so she got to just. Perform as a puppeteer with The Muppets for a few days

One performance, there was an older gentleman near the front with I think his grandkids, and I happened to look at him just before Big Bird entered for the first time, and his face just transformed to that of a five-year-old’s and I saw him mouth ‘oh, Big Bird!’ at her, which makes me cry even now

Animal (he’s my favourite) got to play in the Timpani section (the percussion but of the orchestra), with a gong, and all the percussionists treated him like a respected colleague and hero - for all I know he was probably an inspiration for them - and we were right above them so they got us to do a bit about the gong being sooooo loud, it was a joy

It was the best thing I’ve ever done, I think. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. They’re a delight and actual magic.

[for some reason my copy edits didn’t save so uh, fixed now, whoops!]

Reblog if, no matter the size of the role, you would agree to work with the Muppets if offered the chance to do so, no questions asked

[arixella]

Overprotective Captain

╰┈➤ pairing: Luffy x reader

a/n: guyyysss I have been cooking up so many stories get readddyy!!

summary: Luffy’s unusual protectiveness before reaching a mysterious island reveals just how deeply he cares for you, showing a rare vulnerable side of him.

wc: 920

contains: fluff, secret feelings, overprotective captain, unspoken confessions, and lingering touches.

The warm sea breeze brushed through your hair as the Thousand Sunny glided smoothly toward a new island. The air was filled with excitement, as everyone could feel the thrill of a new adventure ahead of them. You leaned on the railings, staring out at the horizon, excitement bubbling inside you. The island that loomed ahead was unlike any they had visited before—lush, mysterious, and surrounded by a dense mist that made it look like something out of a legend.

It was everything you loved about being on the crew: the unknown, the excitement, and the possibility of discovery. You turned around to face the rest of the crew, your eyes searching for Luffy, who had been acting oddly since you all set sail for the island. Normally, he was the first one to jump at a new adventure, but today, something was off.

Luffy had been unusually quiet, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with a level of tension you rarely saw from him. His eyes would linger on you longer than usual, and whenever you went anywhere near the edge of the ship, he would quickly appear beside you. At first, you thought it was just a phase, something to do with the storm they had sailed through earlier. But as the days passed, it became more apparent: your usually carefree, reckless captain was suddenly acting… overprotective.

You spotted him now, standing at the edge of the ship with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed as he stared ahead at the island. You made your way toward him, noticing how his posture stiffened when you got closer.

“Hey, Luffy,” you said, leaning against the railing next to him. “Excited for a new island?”

Luffy didn’t immediately respond. He only glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before turning his gaze back to the island. His jaw was set in a way that made you frown.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his tone a little more serious than usual. “But… you should stay close, okay?”

You blinked in surprise. “What? Why?”

Luffy's gaze flickered toward you again, and this time, you saw a slight frown tugging at his lips. “I don’t know. Just… don’t go off by yourself. Promise?”

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely puzzled. “Luffy, I’ve been on plenty of islands by myself before. You know I’m fine.”

Luffy’s expression hardened just a bit, his usual carefree smile replaced by a look of worry you’d never seen before. “This one feels different. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

You were taken aback by his words. It wasn’t like Luffy to be so concerned. In fact, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d seen him act like this, and each time, it was about someone else, never you.

“You’ve never been this serious about anything before, Luffy,” you said, trying to lighten the mood, though there was a knot of worry beginning to form in your stomach. “You know you can’t always protect me, right? I’m not a kid.”

Luffy’s eyes widened for a second, and he quickly reached out to grab your wrist. “It’s not about that! I—” He stopped himself and looked away, his voice growing quieter. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You could tell he was struggling with something. The way his hands clenched and unclenched around the railing made it clear that whatever this was, it was affecting him more than he let on.

“Luffy, what’s going on?” you asked softly, turning to face him fully. “You’ve never acted like this before.”

Luffy hesitated, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like forever. His voice was low, but there was an unmistakable intensity to it.

“I’m just… worried, okay?” he said, his words more vulnerable than you’d ever heard him sound. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I just… I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Not like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you were silent for a moment, taking in his words. Luffy’s voice was laced with an emotion you didn’t expect from him: fear. For the first time, you realized just how much he truly cared, and it made your chest tighten with a mixture of affection and confusion.

“You’re worried about me?” you asked quietly, stepping closer to him. “But you’re always so confident, so carefree. What’s different this time?”

Luffy opened his mouth, but no words came out. He took a deep breath, his usual optimism flickering back to life as he gave you a hesitant smile, though it was tinged with unease.

“I guess… I just want to make sure you’re always safe. Even when we’re going to a crazy place like this,” he said. “You’re important to me, and I can’t help it.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. Of course, you always knew Luffy cared about the crew, but hearing him say it directly… it was different. He had always been the one to throw himself into danger without a second thought, and yet here he was, standing before you, practically asking for your trust.

You took a deep breath and smiled gently at him. “Luffy, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. We’ll get through this just like we always do—together.”

Luffy’s expression softened at your words, and for a moment, the tension left his shoulders. He smiled back at you, the worry in his eyes finally starting to fade.

“Okay. I’ll hold you to that,” he said, his voice lightening once more. “But still—just don’t wander off too far. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

You chuckled at his persistence but nodded. “Got it, Captain.”

As the Thousand Sunny neared the island’s shore, you felt Luffy’s hand brush against yours, his fingers lingering for just a moment. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture was enough. You both stood together, staring at the island as it loomed closer.

Despite his overprotectiveness, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your heart. You weren’t sure what had sparked this side of Luffy, but the fact that he cared so much made you feel incredibly lucky to have him by your side.

The island awaited, but for now, you were content, knowing that whatever happened next, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

♡♡♡

© 2025 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[suuuupernovaaa]

healer

Summary: Joel survives.

Warnings/tags: fluff, age gap, jackson joel, HEA always

MASTERLIST

Fuck. Shit. Christ. There’s blood everywhere. She shot him. She shot him, fuck, right in the leg.

I’m going to vomit. Or pass out. I don’t know which. That bitch, that menacing little bitch, is prancing around and yapping, she won’t shut the fuck up.

She doesn’t know I have a gun.

She doesn’t know I have a gun.

She doesn’t know I have a gun.

I’m not quick or stealthy but no one seems to be paying attention to me - all eyes are on Joel.

On Joel. Bleeding on the floor. Joel, in pain. Joel, suffering.

I shoot the man right in front of me first, quickly, giving it little thought, and turn the gun to her next. Quickly. Through the shoulder and she goes down, then another through the neck.

Two. I’ve killed two people today.

Joel is suffering. Joel is bleeding. Joel is staring at me as chaos erupts in the room.

Six Months Later

Joel sits on the porch, a cup of coffee in his hand, rocking back and forth in his chair as the sun rises.

It’s going to be a warm day, he can feel it already. It eases the aches in his muscles, especially his knees, when it’s warm like this.

She emerges from the house, holding her own cup of coffee, dressed in only shorts and a t-shirt, the same outfit she fell asleep in the night before.

She places a kiss on his forehead and sits next to him in a matching chair. She looks beautiful this morning. Her beauty is the quiet kind, that sneaks up on you, and then overwhelms you. It’s not just her face and her body, it’s her voice and her gentleness. The way she cares for those around her, especially Joel and Ellie. The way she’s so thoughtful and always kind, so worried about how people are feeling. There aren’t many people like her left, not how.

Six months later and she still has nightmares about the killings. Even in this world, nearly 35 years old, she’d never killed. She’d never wanted to, not until it came to saving him.

She did it then without so much as a second thought, and Joel lies awake at night thinking about it.

He knows she does too. He tries to soothe the ache with words, but sometimes they aren’t enough.

She smiles over at him. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

He takes a sip of his coffee and looks out at the orange sky. “You, darlin’. As usual.”

She laughs and reaches over for his hand, gripping it so tightly. He knows her nightmares aren’t just about the lives she took. They’re about losing him, too. He still doesn’t understand why she loves him so much, but he’s stopped trying to figure it out.

“I had a nightmare,” she tells him, her smile cracking a little.

He clears his throat, then sets his coffee down. Joel pats his lap. “Come tell me,” he says.

She obliges, moving from her chair to the safety of his lap and arms, and rests her head on his shoulder as she talks.

She’s such a small thing, light as a feather, he feels so driven to protect her and keep her safe. Sometimes it’s all he can think about.

The nightmare is different this time. He expects her to say she dreamed about that day, or about living without him, but this time, the nightmare was that he lived, but left anyway.

“Where the hell did I go?” Joel asks, and she cannot stop herself from laughing.

“Well, I don’t know! Probably to one of the many women in town who admire you,” she says teasingly, and he rolls his eyes behind his crooked glasses.

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one who wants my tired, old ass.”

She sits up and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“What I can’t figure out is why you want me at all,” he adds.

She shakes her head. “No more of that. You know why I love you. You know I’d do anything for you.”

He squeezes her tight, his arms around he waist, and she presses a kiss to his lips, gently at first, but as it often does, it deepens and grows urgent.

“Gross!”

They pull apart to see Ellie walking by the porch, her bag slung over her shoulders “Go inside, please.” But she waves as she jogs off, and Joel waves back.

“That’s a good idea,” his love says, looking back to him. “Let’s go inside and I’ll show you just how much you mean to me.”

He stands up, holding her in his arms like a bride, and walks towards the door.

“The day I say no to that, darlin’, is the day I truly die.”

[twohearts-hs]

Dove & Captain: 6 - Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader Series

Words in Total: 6.1k

Pairings: Dr. Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Synopsis: She's his Dove. The ER nurse who is the definition of chaos, trauma and humour in scrubs. He's her Captain, gruff, emotionally guarded war veteran with a prosthetic leg and completely in love with her. Six years together, a mortgage, four dogs and the ability to conquer anything. This is a story of their life in one day. He is 49, she's 30. This is one day of their life based on the 15 episodes of 'The Pitt'. There will be little imagines of their relationship over the years.

Warnings: Swearing, Age Gap, Trauma, Medical Language/Procedure, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, etc.

A/N: This is a complete series of ~60k. I will post a few snapshots of their relationship over the six+ years they've been together.

Hope you enjoy :)

Series Masterlist

-

1800

Y/N was checking in on her patients when she heard over the intercom, “Code Triage, Emergency Department now.” She glanced up from what she was doing and looked around. Mass casualty. There was a mass casualty incoming.

            “What does that mean? Has that happened before?” she heard next to her. Glancing over, she spotted Santos saying that.

            Y/N met her eyes, and she sighed. “Incoming mass casualty,” she simply said. Everyone looked over to her.

            “Hey, what’s going on?” McKay asked.

            “Mass casualty at PittFest,” Robby said.

            Y/N walked over, hearing that, crossing her arms. “Holy fuck,” she muttered. “What do you mean mass casualty? Like a shooter?”

            Robby just stared at her and Y/N just nodded.

            “How many victims?” Mohan spoke up.

            “We don’t know. Expect the worst,” Robby replied.

            Just then Robby cleared his throat, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Ok, everybody listen up!” All eyes went on Robby. “There is an active shooter at PittFest. As the nearest trauma centre, we are going to be getting the majority of the victims. We don’t know yet how many we are getting, but we are instituting hospital-wide emergency protocols. We need to move every patient out of here. They either go home, they go upstairs, or they go to family medicine. Call your loved ones now if you need to. I can guarantee you, cell service will soon be overwhelmed. Eat something. Stay hydrated. Use the bathroom while there’s time, and meet back here for a full briefing in five minutes,” Robby explained.

            Y/N noticed a figure walking up behind him. Instantly, a smile came to her face, but she shut it down. Jack glanced at her, seeing her standing there with her hair down now, cardigan gone but exhaustion on her face.

            Robby then turned to see Jack. “Brother, I’m so fucking glad to see you,” Robby muttered, walking over to Jack and bringing him in a hug.

            Y/N pulled her phone out, sending a message to Beckett that dinner would be cancelled tonight as Jack and Y/N will have to work later due to an emergency.

            “I heard it on the police scanner,” Jack muttered as Robby pulled away. “How is she?” he asked, nudging at Y/N who was looking at her phone. “Did you figure out what happened with her this morning?” he asked, trying to get information.

            Robby just stared at him. Knowing well about the pregnancy, the miscarriage and how Y/N threatened him to never tell Jack.

            Robby didn’t answer right away.

            Jack narrowed his eyes. “Robby,” he tried, eye contact full on glaring.

            Robby exhaled through his nose, jaw tight as he shook his head. “She’s fine. Focus on the incoming, Jack.”

            Jack didn’t buy it. He knew Robby, knew the way his voice clipped when he was holding something back. But now wasn’t the time. He’d pull it out of him later.

            Across the room, Y/N was already moving – snapping into high-function mode. All serious now and all action. She tucked her phone away before starting to command the team to clear beds. Her exhaustion was shoved down, buried beneath adrenaline and instinct. She moved like someone who needed chaos, thrived in it.

            Jack watched her. His stomach twisted. He could see it – she was too quiet, too still in the eyes. Normally, she would’ve walked up to him by now.

            “You tell me if something’s wrong. I mean it,” Jack said lowly. “It’s Y/N. She’s my life,” he muttered. Robby just nodded, patting him on the back.

            “I know. Tough day, all I’m saying and it’s just getting tougher,” Robby replied. “But she’s fine.”

            Robby nodded.

            Y/N just went straight to work, pushing everything aside. Y/N moved patients alongside her coworkers.

            Y/N walked back up to the nurses’ station where Jack, Robby, Garcia and Dana were. He glanced over to her and sent her a small smile.

            “Hi,” she whispered.

            He nodded. “Hey, Kid,” he muttered. “I’m taking Primary ER.”

            “Have at it,” Robby replied. Y/N crossed her arms.

            “Who’s taking Primary Surgery?” Jack asked holding the vest and binder. He held it up, looking over at the crowd.

            “Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Walsh replied.

            “Dr. Walsh,” Jack replied handing her the kit.

            “Anaesthesiology?” Jack asked.

            “Gladden will be down. He’s got four in place, more on the way,” Dr. Walsh replied.

            Y/N was grabbing a gown, some gloves as Jack started assigning roles to everyone.

            “Ok, this is yours,” Jack said, handing Robby an emergency belt of supplies.

            “Thank you. What do you got in there?” Robby asked.

            Y/N walked back over, next to Jack. “Got some goodies, Captain?” she asked, smirking. Jack’s backpack was filled with emergency supplies.

            He looked at her for a brief moment before looking back at Robby. “A couple of CAT tourniquets, hemostatic dressings, LMAs.”

            “We got plenty of that stuff,” Robby replied.

            “Butterfly ultrasound works off a cell phone,” Jack said, opening up the kit. Y/N leaned over to look at it.

            “Wow, all the bells and whistles,” she hummed.

            “Very cool,” Robby replied. “But we’re gonna send all the unstable chest and belly straight up to the OR.”

            Jack nodded. But as he was showing the ultrasound kit, Y/N spotted something that made her heart drop. He was wearing his wedding ring. The one he had when he was with Grace, his last wife. She stared for a second, blinking a few times before pushing that thought aside.

            He only wore it when he was having a bad day. Missing her. Y/N didn’t mind it. She was very supportive with his grief. However, today was not the day he should be thinking of Grace. Y/N miscarried today. Sure, Jack did not know yet, but he was grieving his last wife while Y/N went through something traumatic. Additionally, he only wore it while at home, never to work. He must’ve totally forgotten that we were wearing it when he left the house.

            Y/N forced herself to refocus, pulling her eyes away from the ring. Now wasn’t the time to spiral. Now wasn’t the time to feel anything.

            Robby turned to the crowd as everyone was gowning and prepping. “Ok, everyone. This is how it’s going to work. Our ambulance bay is now our Triage. EMS will be overwhelmed,” he began.

            “Go stand over there, Kid,” Jack said, leaning into Y/N as he pointed to where everyone else was standing, looking at Robby and Jack. Y/N nodded, walking over.

            “Most will probably arrive by car, several victims per vehicle. For all you newbies that don’t know, Dr. Shen is our night shift attending,” Robby said as Dr. Shen walked over and Robby patted his back. “John, I’m gonna put you on Point Triage.”

            “Cool,” Shen replied.

            “Triage will decide who goes where depending on their injury,” Robby stated, looking over at them.

            Y/N nodded, crossing her arms as she listened. Jack crossed his arms over his chest, biceps bulging.

            “Every department will have a designated primary who will oversee their staff. If you need someone, look for the vest. We’re all going to have walkies. We can get you whatever you need,” Jack explained, voice low, authoritative as he glanced over the crowd.

            “No patient goes into a room unless it’s a trauma bay, and they will have four patients each. We need to keep everybody out in the open so we can keep an eye on everything, ok? Triage is gonna assess and assign every patient to a specific zone with a coloured slap band,” Robby explained, gesturing to things. Then he pulled out a belt bag with different colour slap bands. “Patient who comes in with a red slap band,” he slapped it on his wrist, “goes to the Red Zone, which is the trauma rooms with overflow out here. These are the most critical patients who will die without immediate attention,” Robby stated. “Samira, where are you?”

            Mohan raised her hand.

            “You are here with Dr. Abbot, me and Y/N,” Robby stated. “Jack’s gonna run traffic.”

            Y/N nodded, meeting Jack’s eye, who sent her a curt nod. He knew she could do this. He taught her more than she needed to know as a nurse. She could perform like a doctor, and with two senior residents down, they needed Y/N. Then a smile came to Y/N’s face as she knew she was allowed to play doctor today.

            Jack just raised a brow at that smile, a silent facial expression of ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself’.

            “We have five minutes to try and stabilise the reds. After that, its OR, ICU or morgue,” Jack said, voice powerful, low but calm. Arms still crossed as he glanced around the room.

            “The south and central common area over there will be the Pink Zone,” Robby said, holding up the pink slap band. “That is for patients who will die under an hour without treatment. McKay and Javadi, you are over there, with help from incoming night shift and surgical staff.” Y/N glanced around before going back to Robby. “Yellow Zone is the North Corridor. Those are gonna be mostly extremity wounds, good vitals, talking,” Robby explained holding up the yellow band now. “Mel, you’re gonna run point there with Santos and Whitaker.”

            Mel looked frazzled. “Uh, what if…what if there’s a pulseless extremity?”

            Jack stared at Mel for a minute, then hummed. “Oh, if you can’t feel a pulse, check for Doppler flow with this,” he said, grabbing onto the butterfly ultrasound machine. “It’s a mini-ultrasound. Follow the screen prompts,” he told her, handing the machine over, eyes glaring into Mel’s. It was as if he was handing her his greatest possession, a subtle glare of ‘take care of this’. Y/N just smirked.

            “But yellow can change to a red if they go south. You got to stay on top of them, even if they seem stable,” Robby explained.

            “Ok, yeah,” Mel mumbled.

            “You got this, Dr. King,” Robby stated, nodding towards the resident. His eyes focused back on the crowd. “Green…minor lacs and sprains. They got to Family Medicine. Black and white bands are DOA, imminent death. Pedes is now our morgue. Let’s hope we don’t get too many of these,” Robby explained, looking over to Jack.

            Jack nodded, then looked back at the crowd now. “We’re a MASH unit now. There’s no charting, no electronic medical records, no board,” he said before pointing to the board.

            “How do we document treatment?” McKay asked, brows furrowed.

            “Oh, you’ll all get Sharpies, and every patient has a wrist chart to document treatment and procedures,” Jack stated, pointing to the wrist chart that Robby was holding up. “You run out of room, write on the patient’s forehead.”

            A snicker came from Y/N.

            “Really?” Javadi asked.         

            Jack stared at the med student for a second. “Yeah, really,” he stated.

            “Each wrist chart has a unique mass casualty incident barcode and patient number. That’s how the patients are gonna get identified,” Robby explained, holding the chart up.

            Jack nodded. “This is no-frills combat zone medicine. No ultrasound, no X-rays, no CT, no labs. Assess based on mental status and pulse strength. Every critical patient gets an IO, intubation, a unit of blood and a chest tube if needed. Everything you need…blood, drugs, bandages…everything will be in the Behavioural Health rooms. That’s our supply depot,” Jack stated, eyes glancing over the room, using his military, authority voice. “Um,” he muttered, thinking, “oh! Keep a couple of 11 blades in your pocket.” Jack leaned down to grab one, which was indeed in his pocket of his cargo pants. “Goal is to resuscitate ASAP so they’ll make it upstairs for definitive care.”

            “Trauma surgery and neurosurgery will decide who goes up to the OR immediately and who goes to the ICU for further treatment and evaluation,” Robby finished before looking over to Jack, who was looking at him. “Communicate. Ask for help if you need it. Trust your attendings,” then Jack and Robby fist bumped. “We will get through this together.”

            “Damn right we will,” Jack replied, nodding.

            Then they were dismissed. Y/N walked up to Jack, who was grabbing supplies. “Jack,” she called out, and he turned to her.

            “Yeah,” he muttered.

            “Tie me, please,” she said with a small smile pointing to her gown. He nodded as she turned her back to him. Jack’s hand came to her neck, pushing her hair aside.

            “Can I have a hair band?” he asked, and Y/N gave him one. Gently, he twirled her hair around, making a small bun before tying it. Then he tied the gown. He leaned into her ear. “How are you doing?” he whispered.

            “I’m fine,” she said, turning around. “You?”

            He shrugged. “Fine.” Though she knows his eyes were saying something else. They stared for a moment. “Are we still going to talk tonight?” he asked, voice low.

            She nodded. “Yeah, of course. But we need to get through this first, ok?”

            He nodded. “Just hate when you keep things from me.”

            Y/N nodded again. “I know. You will know soon.”

            A slow nod came. “So, there is something,” he stated, raising a brow.

            Y/N just stared at him for a minute, mouth opening slightly. “We will talk, ok?” she muttered, voice low now. “When I’m ready,” she added.

            Jack nodded, knowing not to fight her. “We’ve got this, Kid,” he muttered, fist bumping her. “Just keep your head on, listen to my orders and don’t pull anything stupid.”

            Y/N tilted her head and raised a brow. “When have I ever pulled something stupid?” He went to open his mouth to respond. “That ended up with the patient dying…” He shook his head, mouth closing. “Exactly.”

            “Listen, though,” he muttered, hissing tone.

            “Yes, Captain,” she replied, smirking.

-

The first patient was here. Jack and Y/N were in one of the trauma rooms as they worked around one another. It was as if they were back on night shift together, working like a well-oiled machine. Jack was wearing the orange vest that stated, “Primary Emergency MD”.

            Jack was intubating a patient. “I’m in,” he stated as Robby entered the room. “Kid, bag her,” he called out, and Y/N was already doing it as Jack glanced up.

            “O-neg is pouring in,” Y/N stated as she stood there, holding the blood bag and the oxygen bag.

            He nodded to her. “Good.”

            “Stronger pulse,” someone said. “I’ll take her up.”

            “Dr. Mohan, that kid came in with his mom. She says he’s deaf,” Robby stated.

            “Write that on his chart,” Y/N called out.

            Jesse came back in with a blood bag. “Ready with the O-neg.”

            “Wait, wait. Stop,” Robby called out from assessing injuries. “O-positive for males over 13, women over 55,” he stated as he walked over. “O-neg for everybody else.”

            “Hook me up,” Mohan called out.

            Jack came back over, placing an IO in. “IO’s in. Go with O-pos,” he stated. “When there’s no time, bone marrow infusion is as good as an IV.” He worked beside her. Then glanced over to Robby. “Robby, stabilise for the flip.”

            Robby came over as Y/N rounded back to help them flip the patient over to look at the wounds. “He’s got a wound on both sides,” Y/N muttered, looking it over.       “He’s gonna need two chest tubes,” she said, looking over at Jack, who just nodded.

            “Yeah,” he muttered.

            Robby agreed as well. “Need a hand?” he asked.

            “Hell no. I got two hands,” Jack replied before looking up, “and Y/N.” Then Robby was off. Jack started reciting orders to Y/N as she grabbed supplies and helped insert chest tubes with Jack.

            Robby came back over, looking over Jack and Y/N as they worked. “Not a lot of test tube output here,” he said.

            Jack held up a tube. “Looks like this one’s renal,” he said.

            “Golden ticket, directly to surgery!” Walsh called out. Y/N moved to pull the bars up on the gurney, unclicking the brakes.

            “That’s three out of four ORs down,” Robby stated.

            “Another four about to open and all 25 will be ready by the time we need them,” Walsh replied.

            “We could be buried by then,” Robby responded. As Jack, Y/N, Robby and Walsh started to move the gurneys out of the trauma room.

            “No, you won’t. We’ll blast through these, tying off bleeders and slapping on vacuum dressings. We’ll finish the job in a day or two when the dust settles,” Walsh replied as they moved.

            Then they jumped to the next patient. Y/N was already grabbing the oxygen bag, pumping oxygen through the tube.

            “Gunshot to the head,” Jack spoke.

            “Through and through,” Robby responded.

            “Yeah, we still got a strong pulse,” Jack replied. “This one can make it because the intracranial bleed can decompress through the bullet holes.”

“Wash, neurosurgery in house?” Robby called out.

“Yes, send him to the neurocrit ICU. They’ll triage from there,” Walsh replied.

Then they pushed the gurney off to surgery before jumping onto the next one.

-

Jack and Y/N were working, jumping from patient. Some stabilised, some to surgery and some died. Y/N wasn’t thinking about it, just getting her hands bloody and following orders.

            “Listen up!” Dana called out. Jack and Y/N glanced to her before back to their patient. “Central 7, 8, 9 is now the blood donor centre. Anyone who’s O-neg or O-pos, we need you to donate now. Hands where I can see them.” Dana threw her hand up while glancing around. People placed their hands up. “Ok, let’s do this.”

            Jack looked at Y/N. “Go donate, Dove,” he said before looking down. “You’re O-pos,” he stated before going back to the patient. “I’m going to do it soon,” he added.

            Y/N stared at him for a moment, swallowing. “I can’t donate,” she muttered, squeezing the oxygen bag.

            Jack’s brows furrowed. “Why can’t you donate? Have you already donated?” he asked, continuing to work.

            “No, I just can’t donate right now,” she responded.

            “Another nurse can take over. Go donate,” he said, voice gruff.

            Y/N sighed. “Jack, you’re not hearing me. I can’t donate,” she said again. However, she couldn’t donate because she was pregnant hours ago and had a miscarriage. People who are pregnant or who have had a miscarriage within six weeks can’t donate as she was less than 12 weeks pregnant.

            Jack finally looked up from the patient.

            “Why not?” he asked, brow furrowed, tone still clipped from the adrenaline. “You’re not sick. You’re not on antibiotics. No blood-borne diseases. What’s the issue?”

            Y/N kept her eyes on the patient, hand steady as she continued her job. But her face had gone pale, lips pressed tight.

            “I just can’t, Jack.”

            He paused, eyes narrowing, not because he was angry, but because she wasn’t telling him something. She never snapped like that unless something was wrong. Really wrong.

            “Dove, he said more quietly, leaning toward her. “What’s going on?”

            “Nothing,” she muttered quickly, eyes flickering from his and looking back at the patient. He didn’t buy it. Not for a second.

            “Y/N, look at me,” he hissed, voice low, not mad, but stern.

            Y/N glanced up at him. His whiskey-coloured eyes, jaw tight as he stared at her. His gown was covered in blood, hands were too with safety glasses on. They stared at one another. He raised a brow. “Why?” he asked, voice low. “Tell me now.”

            She stayed quiet for a moment. This was not how she planned on telling him, but she couldn’t lie. He’d stiff it out.

            “Y/N,” he said again.

            “You can’t donate blood within six weeks of miscarriage if you were less than twelve weeks pregnant,” she mumbled, looking back down.

            His gaze was still on her. Jack remained motionless. The world around them kept moving – monitors beeped, staff shouted vitals, the ER was pulsing with pressure and blood and trauma, but for Jack, everything stopped as he narrowed down at her.

            “What?” he said, not loud…flat. Disbelieving. Like his brain had frozen for a second and needed her to rewind. He was a careful listener. Never since she had known him was he someone who asked people to repeat things.

            Y/N swallowed hard, her gloves slick with someone else’s blood. She didn’t look back up.

            “You heard me. So, drop it,” she whispered. Then she went back to her work.

            Jack didn’t move. “When did it happen?” he asked.

            “I said drop it,” she responded.

            Jack’s chest rose slowly, like he was trying to control something deep, rage, grief, panic, all of it slamming into him at once with no space to release. He took a half a step back, jaw clenched as he stared at her.

            “Dove–“

            “Not now, Dr. Abbot,” she said. “We have patients–“

            “When were you going to tell me?” he asked.

            Y/N groaned, rolling her head back. “Tonight. I was going to tell you tonight.”

            His brows furrowed for a second, brain calculating, then he whispered, “You miscarried today, didn’t you?” he asked. “You were late this morning. Off. Blunt with me.”

            Y/N stared at him. “I was going to tell you tonight. Everything, ok? Everything. But, I will be honest, you coming in here wearing the ring she put on your finger as you said vows made me not want to tell you tonight because you only wear it when you’re not doing ok.”      Jack stood there, eyes locked on hers, his chest still rising too slowly – like every breath had to be forced. His jaw twitched once. Then again.

            “That ring’s not about her,” he said, voice low, thick. “It’s about loss. It’s about what I couldn’t fix. What I failed to keep alive. I rushed over here once I heard about this on the police scanner. Totally forgot it was on.” Y/N just stared at him, and he stared back. “You should’ve told me this morning, Dove. I literally pulled you aside and–”

            They stared at one another. “You have no right to be mad, Jack.”    

            “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed,” he said lowly. “Because we made this clear that we are in this as teammates, partners, and we don’t hide things from one another. We don’t suffer alone. We don’t debate about telling the other something because you’re being petty about something from my past. We’ve been together for six years, Y/N. You know better.”

            Y/N stared at him. Wide eyes as those words came out. She shook her head, then called out for another nurse. “Fuck you, Jack,” she muttered, handing the oxygen bag to Holly and she walked away.

            “Y/N!” he called out, but she continued to walk away from him. “Jesus,” he muttered before jumping back to his patient.

            Robby glanced over, seeing them, looking over at Jack, then Y/N as she went to a different patient. Why were they ending their normal teamwork? Was Robby’s question.

-

Y/N was with Dr. Mohan, trying to stabilise a patient. It might’ve been fifteen minutes since Y/N walked away from Jack. She could not think about that now. She needed to get through this without thinking about her personal problems. She was at work. This was the time to think about work.

            “Need some help with an airway!” Mohan called out as Y/N held the intubation tube with one hand and pressed a gauze on a wound with the other.

            “What is it?” Robby asked, coming over.

            “GSW to the neck with expanding hematoma and distorted anatomy – can’t intubate him. Probably hit the carotid,” Mohan explained as Robby jumped in. Y/N removed the gauze so he could look at it.

            “Ok,” Robby muttered.

            “I’ll do the airway,” she heard that distinct voice behind her. Closing her eyes, she glanced to Jack who looked at her for a moment before grabbing his pen light to check the pupils.

            “Ace, give me a 6.5 and a bougie,” Robby called out and Y/N moved, grabbing supplies.

            “I got the bleeder,” Jack said, flashing the pen light into the patient’s eyes. Then he looked up at Y/N. “Kid, Foley catheter with a 30 cc balloon,” he said, voice low and stern.

            “Are you donating?” Mohan asked as Y/N came back.

            “O-neg, yeah,” he muttered before looking at Y/N who gave him the supplies. She glanced down at his leg, the left one (which was not his prosthetic) had a bag attached to it with bandage holding it to his leg.

            Y/N scoffed, shaking her head.

            “It’s too bloody to see a bougie,” Mohan replied.

            “Not for this. Three-step process. Step one, scalpel,” Robby replied, slicing the patient’s neck. “Step two, finger. Step three, bougie.” Robby said as Y/N handed them supplies when asked for.

            The balloon inflated on the device once inserted.

            “Ok, railroad in the tube,” Jack muttered.

Y/N grasped the tube, helping insert it further.

            “Ok, bag him,” Robby called out as he grabbed the bag.

            “Dressing off,” Jack muttered. “Foley’s in. Blow up a balloon.”

            “30 cc’s in,” Mohan replied as they worked.

            “Clamping,” Jack said as Y/N took the bag from Robby, slowly starting to squeeze it to give oxygen. “Look at that,” Jack replied, smirking as he looked up to his audience. “Dry as a bone.”

            “Woohoo!” Robby replied, smirking as well. Then talked about the logistics of moving the patient to the OR.

            Once wheeled away, Jack stood in front of Y/N. They didn’t say anything, but she could tell through his eyes that he was sympathetic. He walked up to her, leaning in and whispering, “I love you. Ok?” Y/N nodded. He didn’t say it a lot. A man of few words when it comes to feelings, but he shows it in ways. So, to hear that, her heart warmed. “Come. Help me. You’re my sidekick,” he stated, nodding to the next patient.

            Jack walked over to his backpack, the camo one he brought everywhere with him. He was looking for things in it while Y/N stood next to him. “I found out yesterday,” she whispered. He looked over. “That I was pregnant.”

            He nodded. “Dana was the one who suggested it. Never crossed my mind,” she began to whisper as he continued to look in his bag. “So, I haven’t been keeping this from you for a long time. I worked the day shift yesterday, you came in for the night shift. I went home, saw you this morning. I just haven’t been able to see you one-on-one and I know you, Jack. You wouldn’t want me to tell you at work.” He nodded. “I miscarried around two p.m. today. Twenty-four hours, all it was between finding out about it and losing it.”

            Then he glanced over at her, seeing her leaning against the nurses’ station while he was fishing for supplies in his bag. He bit down on his lip. “Ok, we will talk more at home. Just,” he sighed, “don’t suffer alone. Ok?” She nodded. Then Jack spotted Robby and Mohan with a police officer patient. “Come,” he said, brushing her arm and pulling her to him.

            “You’re doing a crike?” Jack asked as he stood next to the gurney.

            “Yep,” Robby replied. Y/N came over, taking over for Princess so she could go help another patient. “No skin hooks, no bougie…old school,” Robby added.

            “I got a tactical airway in my bag here,” Jack said, looking up and smirking as he brought out the kit.

            “What is that?” Mohan asked.

            “Fun. It’s a kit of fun,” Y/N muttered, chuckling. Jack and his emergency medicine supplies he kept at home…

            “It’s a control crike kit,” Jack said as he began to unpack it.

            “Oh, that’s perfect,” Robby replied. “Use that on the battlefield.”

            “Works in the pitch-dark when you’re under fire,” Jack replied pulling the supplies and starting to use them. “I can do these with my eyes closed.” Then he started to show Mohan how to do it. “The knife leaves a trach hook behind, so you can’t miss, right? Just,” he mumbled, inserting the knife and hook, “good. You slide in the introducer.” Jack was perfect at it. Absolutely perfect and he looked up to Y/N then back down. “Feel the tracheal rings. Good. Bob’s your uncle,” Jack said, pulling away. The crike was performed.

            Y/N smirked, chuckling and shaking her head.

            “That was incredibly fast,” Mohan replied.

            Jack glanced up and just shrugged as if it was nothing, no big deal.

“Ballon is up,” Robby muttered.

“Why don’t we stock these?” Mohan asked.

“No room in the budget,” replied Robby.

Y/N looked at Mohan. “They are like three hundred bucks for a kit,” she said, shrugging, connecting the tube to the bag so the patient could get oxygen. “Yellow on end-tidal,” Y/N muttered, looking up.

Everyone smiled and gleamed when Y/N said that.

“It’s ok now?” the officer behind her asked. The patient was a police officer on the table.

“Yeah,” Jack responded, nodding.

“Thank you, Dr. Abbot,” Robby hummed, smirking. Fist bumps went all around. “Ok, let’s pack the oral cavity with Kerlix and see how fast Head and Neck can take him up to the OR,” Robby said to the team. “Great job everybody.”

They all nodded and Robby stepped away.

Mohan looked at Jack. “What else do you got in your go bag?” she asked, grinning, impressed with his tricks and tools.

“Oh, just wait and see,” he responded with a hum before Mohan walked away.

Y/N looked at him as she continued squeezing the bag. “Impressive, Captain,” she whispered, and he looked at her, shrugged.

“You know how to do it,” he responded, “could’ve done it, Kid.”

Y/N stared at him. “You’re telling me now?” she whispered, yelled. “You seriously would’ve let me use your emergency crike kit on this patient?” Her voice was full of excitement but also disappointment because she missed her opportunity.

“Yeah, but you didn’t ask,” he hummed. “All my late-night date night teaching gone to waste,” he joked.

“You didn’t suggest it!” she scoffed. He just smiled at her wickedly. “Fucking tease.”

            However, before Jack could retort, someone screamed “Gun!” multiple times. Instantly, Jack’s hand was on Y/N’s back, commanding and pulling her down with him to the ground. His hand stayed there, glancing over at her, but she was more focused on seeing what was happening. She tried to look, but Jack pulled her back.

            “Stay down,” he hissed, looking straight into her eyes. Y/N just nodded.

            The SWAT team went over, grabbing the gun from the patient who had it strapped to his foot.

            “All clear,” Langdon called out.

            Y/N and Jack slowly stood up again.

            “Fucking hell,” she muttered before walking to another patient.

-

Y/N was with Jack when Leah came in, Jake’s girlfriend. Y/N was still working alongside Jack. “Jake’s here,” Y/N muttered to Jack. “With his new girlfriend, Leah. They went to PittFest together,” she told Jack. Jake and Beckett were close. Jake was seventeen and Beckett just about to hit twenty. The five of them – Jack, Y/N, Beckett, Robby and Jake have gone to events and or even camping trips together.

            Jack glanced up to look at Robby who was helping Leah.

            “Doesn’t look good,” he muttered to Y/N.

“Do you want me to go over there?” she asked him as he worked around her. “To Robby?”

            Jack looked at her, shaking his head. “Too many bodies, stay here,” he stated, then gave her commands on what to do.

            They continued to work together, but both would secretly look up to check on what was happening to Leah in the distance. However, it did not look promising.

            Jack glanced up at Robby. “What’s your next move, boss?” he called out.

            “Platelets, another unit. And then we can transfuse her with her own blood from the Pleur-evac to get ahead,” Robby called out. “Hang the cell saver.”

            Jack and Y/N met eyes and shook their heads together.

            “Squeeze all this in?” Dana asked.

            “No. Three-way stopcock on a 60-cc syringe,” Robby replied to Dana. “I’ll push-pull.”

            “Jack, this,” Y/N tried, but Jack nodded.

            “I know, Kid.” Then he looked over to Robby. “Not exactly in our mass casualty game plan,” he called over to Robby while squeezing a bag of blood into his patient.

            Robby continued to do compressions, and Y/N just shook her head.

            Minutes later, they overheard how Leah still didn’t have a pulse, compressions were still going, and several units of blood had been used. Jack muttered something under his breath. Something about Robby not being able to divide the work with the personal in this situation.

            “Jack, that’s his stepson’s girlfriend,” Y/N tried to reason as they worked.

            “I know,” Jack replied. “But if this were any other day, all good. But right now, we are in a mass casualty, and this is going against the plan. She is using up supplies,” he told her, briefing looking at her.

            “What if it was Beckett and he had a girlfriend–“ Y/N tried. Jack had been in Beckett’s life since he was fourteen. Y/N raised him since he was four after her mother ditched them. Beckett was like Jack’s son.

            “We are not playing ‘what if’ right now, Kid,” he stated. “This is not the time for that game. So, I’m not going to be answering that question.” Dana walked over to grab more blood from the cooler. Jack noticed. “Four units,” he muttered. Then he called out, “Blood is for the ones we can save.”

            Robby replied instantly, “She is right on the edge. One more can make the difference.”

            Y/N and Jack finished stabilising their patient. “O-neg. Monitor the pulse. She’s stable for trauma ICU if an OR’s not ready,” he called out to the nurse who was taking their patient away now.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at Dana. Jack then glanced up. The couple were looking at the charge nurse, raising a brow. Dana just shook her head. Jack instantly removed the safety glasses and came over to Leah. Y/N followed.

He stood next to Robby. Y/N kept her distance. “How many units so far?” he asked.

Robby took a deep breath, but didn’t answer.

“Four, plus the cell saver,” a nurse said.

“Last one?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know,” Robby muttered, shaking his head. “Dana, why don’t we try a little TXA? 1,000 milligrams of TXA might help her clot,” Robby spoke up.

“Got it,” Dana replied.

Y/N kept standing there, behind Jack. Her hand reached out but then pulled away. She took a deep breath.

“Bullet tore through her heart,” Jack muttered before looking at his friend. “Anyone else with a wound like this is pronounced dead in the field. You can’t keep up with the blood loss. If she were our only patient, we’d do a thoracotomy, maybe ECMO. But even then, I doubt we’d get her back,” Jack continued, voice low.

“Robby, we’re gonna lose ten other patients if you put all your efforts into saving this girl,” Y/N spoke up.

Jack glanced over his shoulder. “Exactly. Kid’s right,” he muttered.

Robby glanced over his shoulder, looking at the scene. Y/N’s eyes darted between Jack’s and then to Robby.

“Got the TXA,” Dana replied.

Robby looked back over. “Ok, push it fast, and we’ll do another pulse check. And then can you get me a vascular Doppler too, please?” Robby asked, looking at Dana.

Jack placed his glasses back on, looking at Y/N. She stayed quiet.

“GSW to the chest, faint pulse,” someone called out, and Y/N instantly turned, grabbing gloves and walking over.

“Jack,” she called over her shoulder.

Jack broke his eye contact with Robby to the incoming patient. “Intubation, IO, chest tube, and a unit of blood,” he called out.

“On it,” Y/N replied, then Jack came over.

They were working when Santos appeared in front of them. Y/N glanced over as Jack kept focus.

“Where’s Robby?”

“In BH-2 with the possible shooter,” Princess replied.

“Can you guys take a new patient?” Santos asked.

This made Jack look up to the intern. “Not right now. What do you got?” he asked, looking at her briefly before going back to his work.

“Hypotensive pelvic bleed,” Santos replied.

“Transfuse two units. We’ll get to it,” Jack replied. However, then Langdon called for Jack.

“Abbot! I got a carotid injury, popped a clot!” Langdon called out.

“I’ll be right there!” Jack replied, then he looked at Y/N. “Kid, take over. You know what to do,” he said, patting her on the back and leaving. Y/N jumped in.

taglist:

@bubbleraccoon00

@beebeechaos

@travelingmypassion

@kaisanpoint

@sweetwanderlust05

@kmc1989

@hiireadstuff

@dizzybee03

@keileighr

@wolfbc97

@introvertathome

@sharkluver

@katydunn047-blog

@kenzimae67

@qardasngan

@rosieposie88

@samanthadegaro

@meowmeowyoongles

-

Hope you enjoyed. xoxo

Send in imagine requests for Dove & Captain!

Ava <3

[leonarecs]

we’re back for part two 🤭 i’m scared but excited because i know they are finally gonna FUCK n i’m very happy about that LMFAOOO, now let’s begin 👀

His absence leaves a heavy weight of guilt that presses hard onto your shoulders, regardless that he had been the one to mostly start the fight. What had you really even done wrong? 

absolutely NOTHING queen, do not feel guilt!!!!! he’s being an ass <3 (sigh i kinda feel bad too i have too much of a soft spot for this man)

Despite his elusion you still see him, amongst your shared classes, the late nights in the common room or when passing in the halls.

this when they’re usually attached at the hip omg it hurts to imagine it MY BABIES

He decides it’s not worth getting involved now that Mattheo’s made his intentions clear. He wants nothing to do with it.

oh, so i’m not worth fighting for 😔✋ i see how it is, what a pussy. of course you’re scared of mattheo 🙄 (it’s okay at least we’ll have scary bf privileges soon)

He had just suddenly been everywhere, like a convenient beacon.

the ‘do you really like him or is he just giving you the attention you’ve been so desperately craving from someone else’ trope is inescapable and i love it

For the way you felt under Mattheo’s spotlight was divergent. He made you feel special, your heart beating to a different rhythm for him. Being with Mattheo was like watching a sunrise for the first time, the shades of orange and pink peeking up after you both stayed up all night stargazing. It made you feel alive. He made you feel alive. Made you feel electric with life and like you could conquer anything with him by your side. 

I’M FUCKING SCREAMING OVER THIS??? THE DESCRIPTION OF HER LOVE??? THE WAY HIS ATTENTION IS DIFFERENT FROM EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD?? i’m sobbing. this captures that overwhelming feeling of being seen by someone you care about so perfectly. also the way you went from “it made you feel alive” to “he made you feel alive” to drive it home FUCK it hits so hard. it’s like you can feel her heart waking up for him. i’m actually going to cry over this.

It wasn't his fault he was deeply flawed, but it was your choice to be the one to see him past those sharp thorns. To help bloom the roses that laid trapped underneath the rumble, bring them to light in the same way as how you saw him.

again, no words to describe how i feel, so:

“I'm not oblivious like you two are, besides I don't really want a repeat of my last relationship.” 

poor guy can’t catch a break from all the girls that have secretly been in love with another boy since they were kids

“Not entirely sure what you see in the nutter, but knowing what kind of girl you are, it must be something good.”

AWWW OKAY THAT WAS SWEET I’M GIGGLING

A week without you had been to put nicely, hell for him. He had wallowed entirely, sulking like a pathetic child, like his favourite candy had been ripped from his clutches. He realized quickly that this was worse, that having your attention shared, not having your presence at all, had turned him into a dreary grump.

the way he completely falls apart without her in his life, HE’S SO IN LOVEEEE Y/N OPEN YOUR EYES

He missed you in his arms. He missed the gentle way you would soothe him to sleep. With warm caresses that resembled a mother’s touch, but with you it felt more intimate.

i genuinely believe you’re trying to kill me right now. my heart is literally unraveling with every word i read, mother, why must you be so cruel 😖 him falling asleep in her arms only will never fail to fucking destroy me. and they still wanna talk about some “best friends” bullshit bro, stfu

Clearing your throat of nerves, you speak directly to the point. “I didn’t mean it.” Mattheo's stubbornness had always been a persistent habit, one of his shortcomings that meant you knew it was unlikely he'd apologize first. Especially considering he can’t even look at you. 

the fact that she just knew where he’d be. without even having to ask anyone, they really know each other better than anyone else in the world UGHHH 😓😓😓 also idc if he’s stubborn, he should be apologizing FIRST tf ✋

“I’m sorry, I.. I- you.. are wanted. Always, Mattheo.”  “But not in the right way.”

oh god i literally cannot breathe right now

“It's fine, Ace. You’re forgiven. We’re still friends, alright.” 

bitch. don’t you have something else to say. and what the FAWK do you mean ‘friends.’

He fights the part of him wanting to swallow his pride and spit out an apology, but he’d never been good at those. That would mean he’d have to explain the reasoning and vulnerable depth, years' worth of trauma that built a viscous insecurity he’d never shared with anyone, not even you. He didn’t feel exactly spritely about indulging you just because you were upset that he hit Dean.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it once again, the way you characterize him is fucking spot on. you can feel how stubborn and defensive he is without it ever outright saying “he’s stubborn” — it’s all in the why. the way you tied his pride to this deep, unspoken insecurity?? it makes him so much more human. he’s not just being difficult to be difficult, he’s protecting these old wounds he doesn’t even know how to show. i’m losing it over how layered this makes him.

“For what? You’re the one that called me unwanted.” 

NO I DIDN’T, STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH.

“I said I was sorry.” The words whisper with the tone of desolation. Despite your anger, the guilt and worry break the barrier through the emotions you wear on your sleeves, knowing you never wished to hurt him. 

THE POOR GIRL MY HEART HURTS SO BAD RIGHT NOW it wasn’t her fault 😭 

He steps without hesitation; coming closer, wrapping you up into his arms, a much needed hug for the both of you. He aches, feeling you reciprocate, gently hugging him back, and he holds you a little tighter, having missed your touch.

the hug oh my god i have real tears streaming down my face right now, the history and emotion between these two is too much for me to handle

The small sounds of your sniffles smothering into his chest vibrate through to his heart painfully, like an earthquake causing destruction to his protective walls.

more metaphors that i adore and have to highlight thank you very much

He turns glaring at you. “Let’s just go inside, Ace! It’s fucking thundering!” 

it’s so intense right now, i’m literally buzzing with anxiety goodnight. this whole scene is playing out like a movie in my head the dialogue is SO GOOD.

He's ignoring how his mind is screaming to just tell you the truth, to finally bare his heart and soul to you, but the fear of rejection has him by the throat.

yeah.

“Tell me- god please Mattheo, I swear if this friendship means anything to you! You’ll fucking tell me.” The doubt creeps back in; Dean was wrong. He doesn’t see you the same. 

i’m fucking screaming JUST TELL HER THE TRUTH YOU’RE DOING NOTHING BUT FEEDING HER DOUBTS RIGHT NOW PLEASEEEE MY HEART CAN’T TAKE MORE OF THIS ARGUMENT, he’s just letting her believe that he doesn’t give a shit whether she’s in his life or not 😞

“because you’re the best thing in my life! And yet I'm just scum on the bottom of your shoe.. And that motherfucker was right and I hate him for it, because I-i-I don't deserve you!.. Not your kindness… or attention… or friendship, and yet I'm still greedy. I still want more!”

ASAHSEDHAEGDFFYGACHUNˆSHDGFHDGFUHERIFJIENDXKJEWBDXJERBGCHJHIÇ≈≈XEFUHGVUFHDGU OH MY GODIFHJDG

i’m sorry. i cannot fucking breathe right now, there’s so much i want to say. the angry confession. the stuttering. the “i’m still greedy.” FUCKING HELLLLLL, when they think they’re not worthy but still can still admit that they want more, i can’t DO THIS ANYMORE

“B-because- because I fucking love you, you idiot!” 

can’t even turn on all-caps, i’m too busy trying to hit the right letters through my tears

You're shut up by the pleasant surprise of his lips smashing onto yours, with an effort of urgency urged behind the feel of his soft lips. His hands move to cup your face, your soaked face, the warmth of them rising a blush to your cheeks, as he holds them with tenderness. He kisses you with all the love he has, willing to give you every beat of his heart. He knows you already have it. It's always been yours. 

the last line i—

“Actually?” He smiles in reassurance and hope glosses over his eyes. His chest vibrates as he chokes out a disbelieving laugh and his grin broadens. "You-u lo-” He can't even finish the sentence so choked up by all of this.  A smile graces your face with wide, full cheeks that burn with happiness and you reciprocate his choked upness, feeling the tears start again. The way your head nods ridiculously fast, flicking your drenched hair in all directions, makes him chuckle and he cups your cheeks for fear of it flying off. “Not fucking with me are you now Ace, cuz I swear to god if you-”  Leaning forwards you capture his lips effortlessly, now being the one to shut him up.

this whole sequence has me actually laughing and smiling through tears WHO AM I????? g, you’re so unbelievably talented, the feelings are feeling really hard right now and i need a nap despite the fact that i slept for 15 hours last night

His arm guides you wrapping around your waist, a stark contrast to the way his arm usually drapes over your shoulder casually.

THIS DIFFERENCE BEING POINTED OUT AAAAHHHHH i’m literally bursting with happiness rn. also him not being able to handle seeing her cry even when its happy tears, fuck just let me fall to the floor real quick

His gaze drops and his eyes darken shamelessly, admiring how your shirt clings to your body, accentuating your chest. He licks his lips, letting his thoughts run wild for once with no guilt, and stops what he was doing walking closer. His hands graze your waist, letting you know of his proximity as he speaks with a low husk in his tone. “Lemme help Ace.” 

I’M LITERALLY TREMBLING OMGOMGOMG HE’S SUCH A PERV LMFAOOOO WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE I’M SO EXCITED

His head dips, brushing his lips back against yours, and he whispers with the weight of a man ready to feast on his deepest desires. “Ace..you know I want you… don't you?” He’s so close that when he licks his lips, his tongue grazes your lower lip with the subtlest of touches and he relishes in the sucking in of your breath.

the way i’m holding my breath right now fucking hell, my choochie quaking i can’t even lie to you

Mattheo might be oblivious to love, but he’s a keen observer in the act of sexual intimacy. It’s as if his eyes are an x-ray lust detector. He knows all the tells of an aroused woman. “So pretty Ace, fuck..you’re making me want to kiss you senseless.”

“Fuck, you look so sexy when you bite that.” 

the way he thought this in part one as well and now he’s actually able to voice his thoughts ajdghfgff i’ll never get over mattheo calling us sexy 

He grabs your wrists, gently kissing both of them before he pins them above your head, shocking a gasp out of you. He grins, satisfied by your reaction as he shifts, sliding his hands upwards, intertwining your fingers together in an intimate hand hold. 

my first reaction while reading this: oh my god, kissing her wrists is the sweetest fucking thing i’ve ever read. second reaction: HE DID WHAT OMG I CAN’T STOP SCREAMING. third reaction: HAND HOLDING MY FUCKING FAVORITE MY HEART IS MALFUNCTIONING 

He shifts, rolling onto his side, allowing your hand to slip inside his pants and wrap around his cock. He can’t help but buck his hips into your palm at the feel of your hand making contact. “Fuck-Ace.” His eyes droop, looking at you shifting onto your side too, your tits squishing together in the constraints of your bra, his mouth gaping letting out a hitched shaky breath. 

Couldn’t even edge to this, I exploded immediately!!! Clean up on aisle MY PANTS 😂😂😂😂 (i’m sorry.)

“Soakin Ace. You've been this wet the whole time?” 

YES OBVIOUSLY OH MY GOD

“Yeah, you want another? Want me to stretch you out…wanna be ready for me, don’t you, Ace?” 

He gives his fingers a quick lick, not wanting to waste a single drop of you, watching focused how you shuffle out of your panties. 

OH MY GODDDJSGEWFHG WHAT IS THIS FEROCITY THAT YOU’VE EVOKED IN ME RIGHT NOW I’M BARKING

Wandering his gaze at your movements, he watches frozen, disbelieving the vision before him. Sitting up onto your elbows, you unclip your bra, freeing your tits and exposing yourself fully. His pants sit halfway down his legs, his jaw tensing, eyes gazing with enamour at your bare body. He blinks again, swearing this has to be one very good sex dream. 

MY FEELINGS CANNOT EVEN BE VOCALIZED RIGHT NOW I DIED DEAD RIP ME THE WAY HE FROZE GOODBYEEEEE

“God, I love your laugh.. gonna make me cum right now.” Your laugh grows in ecstatic shock at his vulgar words. “Mattheo!” “Oh yeah, look at you practicing screaming already.”

THE GIGGLE THAT THIS TORE OUT OF ME SHOULD BE STUDIED BECAUSE I SWEAR I’VE NEVER MADE THIS SOUND BEFORE

“Tell me really, am I bigger?” 

I’M FUCKING CRYING LMFAOOOO HE’S SO ANNOYING

But then you smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and whisper an adorable, “Hi.”

AAAAAAAHHHH ITS GIVING “Hi, Johnny.” “Hi, Shannon.” SQUEALING ESPECIALLY WITH THE TITLE TOO AHHHH

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, ok Ace.” 

whatever you say, daddy— i mean what hahahhahahah

He flickers his eyes back and forth from how his cock slides between your folds captivatingly and up to your pretty blessed out face. Your mouth gaping as streams of whiney moans flows out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. “Fuck, I don't know where to look baby…look so good taking me.”

“s'good..the best ace. I could live in your pussy, just fall asleep and never wake up.”

it’s all over the screen 💔💔💔🥀🥀🥀

The notion that you'll both be alright, swaddled in the new cocoon of your relationship, both finally receiving the love you deserve together.

this is such a beautiful way to end it i’m sobbing

speaking so truthfully when i say that this wasn’t just a fic; this was a fucking experience. i felt like i was watching a movie in theaters and i didn’t even realize how long this was (18k words together i think?!?!) because it flowed so well and the dialogue never left a single moment where i wasn’t hooked. this, in its entirety, was so unbelievably well written—the dialogue, the metaphors, the story, descriptions and imagery, the way you weaved in their backstory and their tie to each other. i hate that it’s taken me so long to read it fully without distractions, but you truly exceeded all expectations. like i know deep in my heart that, from now on, every time i think about a best friends-to-lovers trope with him, my mind is instantly going to go to mattheo and ace because they’ve just set the bar for this whole trope. the yearning, the slow burn, the hesitance for both sides to finally admit their feelings, the fear of rejection — it’s all put together so perfectly. the emotion is so real and raw and powerful, i felt everything like it was actually happening to me. this might (definitely) be my favorite writing i’ve ever read from you. you’re fucking phenomenal b, literally never stop writing!!! (and never leave this fandom, i won’t survive without you!!!)

i honestly don’t even know how i’m to move on from this. someone come pick me up off the floor because i need mattheo and ace forever and ever (i know you posted something else of them and i’m excited to read but like fuck i just need an 8 book series of them because i’m not ready to let go)

[S]he will be loved ~ part two

Sum Reader is hopefully and madly in love with her best friend, constantly having her heart broken living in the shadows of other girls. Unaware that he’s hiding a secret, unable to express the truth about how he feels for her too.

Warn: NSFW18+, angst, yelling, swearing, PIV, fingering, semi handjob, dirty talk, (the smut is a little vanilla for the sake of being romantic), use of Ace as a nickname, y/n occasionally, Dramatic asf fr, maybe too dragged-out argument lmfao. Wc: 9.4k An: thank you for being so patience! It is suggested you read part one if you haven't, once again I went a bit in circles with this and so now will run away nervous as hell! but hope you all enjoy! Dividers from here & here

He makes good on his promise, avoiding you for the rest of the weekend and into the next week. His absence leaves a heavy weight of guilt that presses hard onto your shoulders, regardless that he had been the one to mostly start the fight. What had you really even done wrong? 

Despite his elusion you still see him, amongst your shared classes, the late nights in the common room or when passing in the halls. His head locked straight ahead, as if the wall is the most interesting thing, and if his gaze weakens and he nips a glance at you, it holds no kindness. The icy water drenches your bones again and makes you question your memory, and how badly you’ve hurt him. 

Dean keeps his distance as well, despite being unaware of your fight with Mattheo, the damage by him is more than physical and Dean wishes to keep far from the drama tempting to unravel. He decides it’s not worth getting involved now that Mattheo’s made his intentions clear. He wants nothing to do with it. His distance doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you can’t help wondering how you’ve managed to drag him into an unnecessary mess. 

Had you, in spite, subconsciously used Dean to get a reaction from Mattheo? Were you challenging the bounds of your friendship? It wasn’t like you had planned to even consider Dean an option. He had just suddenly been everywhere, like a convenient beacon. It hadn’t been hard to get along, with his contagious energy and charming personality, he had easily cleared the thick aged brain fog once completely consumed by Mattheo.

Clouds slide inwards, covering the heat of the sun, and casting downward shade along the cobblestones, making you plan to head back inside soon. You sit under the shelter of a tree in the viaduct courtyard pondering the inner turmoil. Feeling conflicted, you sigh, weighing up the differences between them. 

Dean, a kind and warm spirit who opened his arms to you instantly, making you feel needed and welcome. So ready to listen, and match your energy to his own passions. But there was always something missing. It all felt very surface level, and maybe that was because it was new. Or maybe he just gave you what you were yearning so desperately for. Attention. 

But it wasn’t the right type you craved. For the way you felt under Mattheo’s spotlight was divergent. He made you feel special, your heart beating to a different rhythm for him. Being with Mattheo was like watching a sunrise for the first time, the shades of orange and pink peeking up after you both stayed up all night stargazing. It made you feel alive. He made you feel alive. Made you feel electric with life and like you could conquer anything with him by your side. 

Maybe you ought to give Mattheo some credit, for he his life had always left him complicated. 

You, of all people, know the traumatic strain his upbringing had scared him, continuing into his current life. There is no escaping the forceful path his life has been shunted down, his hands bound. It wasn't his fault he was deeply flawed, but it was your choice to be the one to see him past those sharp thorns. To help bloom the roses that laid trapped underneath the rumble, bring them to light in the same way as how you saw him.

You sit up suddenly, spotting Dean crossing the courtyard with his friends, and jump at the chance to make amends with him. “Dean!” 

His head whips around and he stops walking, allowing you to approach. His smile is less, but not unwelcoming. “Hey Y/n.”

You eye his friends awkwardly till they call out for Dean to catch up and continue walking. You shuffle between your feet, feeling nervous about starting the conversation. “Hi- I.. I just wanted to apologise. I’m really sorry about what happened last weekend.” 

Dean is quick to shake his head, respectfully dismissing your apology. “It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, y/n. I hold no grudges towards you - besides, my nose has healed up all fine.” 

You wince at his little joke, adding, “It's not just on behalf of Mattheo, I want to for myself too.”

“Oh?”

“I’m worried. I led you on.. Though I swear it was completely unintentional..”

Dean nods his head firmly and grabs your shoulders to calm your rambling. He already understands and offers you one of his kind smiles you had grown to miss. “It’s really alright. I kind of figured that out already.. And I definitely don’t wanna meddle in the middle of your situation with Riddle.” 

“Figured out?”

His eyes crinkle and shoulders shake as he laughs at your oblivious confusion. “I'm not oblivious like you two are, besides I don't really want a repeat of my last relationship.” 

You nod, not quite understanding what he means by oblivious, but feeling the recurring wave of guilt hit for misleading Dean and so you just give him an appreciative smile. Your heart remains heavy despite Dean’s forgiveness. “I’m sorry again, anyway.” 

He shakes his head, dropping his hands from your shoulders, “It’s fine y/n. Maybe catch ya with Eli sometime. But good luck with everything, yeah. Not entirely sure what you see in the nutter, but knowing what kind of girl you are, it must be something good.”

While Dean retreats, catching back up with his mates, you stay eyes locked on where he last stood in a daze of thought. Must be something good. That’s always what you’ve seen in Mattheo, aware that it’s the defining string between your relationship. The knot that continued to tighten throughout your years at Hogwarts, strengthening with every moment of trust and kindness you shared with him. 

For once you bite the trepidation and unknown awaiting, the thought illuminating and making the lightbulb brighter. Hoping maybe Mattheo’s reactions to Dean were rather explainable, and burying the one doubtful tic questioning if this was his usual protective self or merging into something new. 

With newfound determination, you set off to find Mattheo, choosing to believe in the bright possibility that this territory was Mattheo awaiting under the rainbow of your deepest fantasies with a mutual feeling. 

A week without you had been to put nicely, hell for him. He had wallowed entirely, sulking like a pathetic child, like his favourite candy had been ripped from his clutches. He realized quickly that this was worse, that having your attention shared, not having your presence at all, had turned him into a dreary grump. His mood was not subtle in the slightest, every emotion of agonized resentment shadowed his face in a deep scowl. 

He was mad at you for how you defended that prat so easily, without stopping to question his intentions. But then again, he’d never openly admitted that Dean’s words had gutted him, mentioning his biggest insecurity. Not being worthy of you. Of your attention, your kindness, your laughter, your warmth, and last, your love. It had eaten away at him all week. 

He’d hardly slept, which was saying something for he rarely could. He knew he was undeserving, and yet if there was anyone he wanted to prove his worth to, it was you. 

He continued to watch the lull of the black lake from within the Boathouse, a quiet spot for his thoughts to wrestle in the ring with one another. He missed you in his arms. He missed the gentle way you would soothe him to sleep. With warm caresses that resembled a mother’s touch, but with you it felt more intimate. His cigarette burned, allowing small moments of relief to flow through his lungs, the inhale of nicotine calming his distressed heart. 

He hears the footsteps of someone entering the wooden house and peers over his shoulder, assuming it was someone who knew he came here. Seeing its you, he turns back to look at the water, exhaling another deep breath, his heart exhilarating just by your presence. He suddenly feels clammy, wishing to douse himself in the cold water just to calm his nerves. 

His shoulders square tensely as you near, and you continue with caution, uncertain how to proceed. Everyone knows the extent of Mattheo’s temper, and thankfully you’ve never found yourself on the other end. 

Your earlier bottomless energy and hopeful determination seems to have found a sudden end, diminishing like his smoke does into the afternoon sky. Being around Mattheo again makes the doubt seep back inwards, wondering if Dean had been imagining something between the two of you. 

Clearing your throat of nerves, you speak directly to the point. “I didn’t mean it.” Mattheo's stubbornness had always been a persistent habit, one of his shortcomings that meant you knew it was unlikely he'd apologize first. Especially considering he can’t even look at you. 

He stays quiet, listening actively. He doesn’t like where this is going, despite aching to make up with you, having never fought with you like this before. He’s aware this is leading to an unstable vulnerability, and he’s not sure he can hold on to the part of him that despises being soft.

“I’m sorry, I.. I- you.. are wanted. Always, Mattheo.” 

He flinches at the use of his full name. Coming from your lips, it sounds so sweet and remorseful. He knows you’re being sincere. He can hear it in your voice and somehow it makes it harder for him to admit his own wrongdoings. “But not in the right way.” He mutters mostly to himself, exhaling the last of his cigarette. 

Frowning, not catching his mumbled whisper, you take another step bravely and stand beside him, finally capturing a glimpse at his face. It holds no clear emotion of how he’s truly feeling, constrained by the mask he wears protectively. Eyes locked dead on the smoothness of the water, the clouds darkening out above the lake and the surface breaks as raindrops ripple, gently dropping onto it. Even in his blank expression, he still looks gorgeous, making the butterflies flutter. 

He sighs, knowing you’re giving him a look to explain, for an answer, anything as he keeps his lips pressed into a thin line. His jaw clenches desperately trying to avoid glancing at you, for he’s well aware that with just one look, he'd crumble. 

He stabs the end of his cigarette out on the wooden panels, discarding it into the previous piles of used up ones. “It's fine, Ace. You’re forgiven. We’re still friends, alright.” 

Even as he says the words, he curses himself for leaving your relationship there, when he so wants to take the conversation somewhere else. Somewhere further, where he can express himself to you fully, but he’s afraid. He turns towards the exit. “It's late, and it's starting to rain. Let's head back up.” 

You stand frozen, reflecting over his words, “wait - what? I’m forgiven?!” 

“Yes, that's what I said. Isn’t that why you came here?” He pushes through the door, feeling the beginning of the downpour hitting his skin, quickening his pace, not checking to see if you’re following.  

You trail behind him in disbelief, appalled by his audacity. You knew he was stubborn, but not to this extent. “Yes, but-what about yours? Don’t you think I deserve one too?!”

He hears the pain and confusion in your tone and curses himself. He fights the part of him wanting to swallow his pride and spit out an apology, but he’d never been good at those. That would mean he’d have to explain the reasoning and vulnerable depth, years' worth of trauma that built a viscous insecurity he’d never shared with anyone, not even you. He didn’t feel exactly spritely about indulging you just because you were upset that he hit Dean.

“For what? You’re the one that called me unwanted.” 

He knows it's a hard blow as soon as the words leave his lips. But he refuses to change something about himself he knows will only make him weak. Showing that kind of vulnerability and transparency to you is not something he can afford in his life. He can't stand to see your view of him change. To see him fragile, the hidden boy behind the hard exterior. Even if you end up hating him, he’d go to the grave protecting that piece of him, even from himself. 

He keeps walking, not noticing that you’ve come to a stand stall, frozen in shock from his jab. His words make your heart ache. It's clear he still holds a grudge over the words you said. You had never meant it like that. It wasn’t that he was unwanted, but his overwhelming protectiveness that ultimately made you feel like he was in control of you, and you had always put up with it. 

Never once had you allowed yourself to be selfish and actually enjoy the potential opportunity of romance. Until now, and yet he still continues to act cold, pushing you away. 

The rain pours harder, soaking your clothes through to the bone, and you wish for it to absorb you completely. Mattheo finally notices the quieting of your pestering and turns to see you just standing there with an unreadable stare. His brows knit with concern, his earlier irritation washing away, and he blinks through the rain, feeling a wave of guilt.

“Ace.” He descends back down the stairs with a fasten pace, “Fuck- Don’t just stand there, merlin it's pouring.”

Your arms wrap around your body to provide any warmth physically and to your heart, lifting your head heavily as he approaches. “I said I was sorry.” The words whisper with the tone of desolation. Despite your anger, the guilt and worry break the barrier through the emotions you wear on your sleeves, knowing you never wished to hurt him. 

He sighs with realization, his habit of self protection had only projected an icy blast at you and messed with your head. He steps without hesitation; coming closer, wrapping you up into his arms, a much needed hug for the both of you. He aches, feeling you reciprocate, gently hugging him back, and he holds you a little tighter, having missed your touch. The way your hands grip with need the longer the two of you stay embraced, and your head snuggles into his chest. 

It's one of his favourite positions, his chin aligned with the crown of your head so perfectly. The way he feels ten times lighter now that you’re in his arms, and his eyes close, finally taking a breath of clean air. He gets lost in the moment, grateful for how you’re able to calm him so quickly. How you can take away all his anger at the snap of fingers, all his stress, all his pain even if momentarily just from the mere warmth of your touch. 

His peaceful tranquillity breaks by the shakes of your body, and he’s reminded that he is the one to have hurt you. The small sounds of your sniffles smothering into his chest vibrate through to his heart painfully, like an earthquake causing destruction to his protective walls.

Cold water continues to splatter, coating the wet clothes that cling to your bodies, the only warmth radiating from your chests pressed together as one. He rubs your back soothingly, allowing you to express his feelings in the only way he knows how to offer comfort. 

He opens his eyes, looking up at the thick darkness of the night; blinking back the rain that has no effort to cease. He can’t fully determine whether your body is still shaking from sadness or the cold. He sighs deeply, looking down at you, offering a smiling feeling as if things will calm back to normal at any moment. “Come on, we should get inside.” 

You shake your head stubbornly, not wanting the conversation to end here, and pull back with a deep frown. His smile does little to ease the pain and, in fact, bothers you at how nonchalant he’s acting. “No. it’s just a little rain, and it’s not hurting me nearly enough as your absence of an explanation.” 

He studies the wedge of separation you stick between the two of you, the reigniting of infuriated energy charging him like an electric circuit. Why won't you just drop this? He doesn’t answer you, his head turning, looking out over the castle grounds, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he’ll snap at you or, worse, reveal something vulnerable. 

You press onwards despite the tensing in his jaw, annoyed that he ignores you. “Don’t you trust me? Why can't you tell me the real reason? I just need to know why you hit Dean?”

“Please, just drop it Ace.” He grits out, trying to keep from raising his voice. His body still turned; his mind buzzing, humming with anxiety.

The lingering anger swarms to the surface at his refusal to even look at you, “I’ve been here for you through thick and thin and you can't even tell me this one simple thing?!” 

The clouds boom before a thicker onslaught of water spits down harder on the concrete steps, making it harder for him to hear you. Cowardly, he’s hoping if he ignores the issue, it will go away. But he knows you, and the determination you’re expressing only makes you stubborn like a mule, knowing you won't drop it till you’re satisfied with an answer. 

He turns glaring at you. “Let’s just go inside, Ace! It’s fucking thundering!” 

Apprehensively, you pause at his loud tone, knowing he’s beyond pissed. But the urgency for the truth pushes you onwards into your questioning, with your heart thinly stretched on the line. 

“I can't! I need to know!”  

He groans, “Why?! Can’t you just believe me and drop it? Like I already told you that shithead deserved what he g-”

“No! That's not good enough. I need more, a proper explanation Mattheo… and if you can’t tell me why.. I-I'll-”

“You’ll what?!” He snaps with an offensive scornful tone, so bitter he can taste the metal on his tongue for the attitude he’s giving. He blinks the water out of his eyes, shaking his wet hair that hangs soaked to his forehead. “You’ll leave?” 

He's ignoring how his mind is screaming to just tell you the truth, to finally bare his heart and soul to you, but the fear of rejection has him by the throat. At this point, though, he’s afraid it won't matter what he does. The outcome is hanging dangerously, that he might lose you either way. 

You swallow your turn not to say anything. You hadn’t wanted to actually say it, because it wasn't true. You didn’t want to leave, but you were feeling frustrated, hurt, betrayed. 

He continues walking closer with intense energy, the darkness of the atmosphere making him look intimidating than ever. “Gonna walk away? Had too much of me finally, huh!” 

His voice raises and you force yourself to hold still and not move from your spot, even when he gets right up in your face. You noticed the clear strain behind his words, and there's a flash of something more in his eyes other than anger, pain. 

“Please Matty-y just tell-” you whisper pleadingly. 

“Don’t. Don’t do that.. Stop looking at me like that.” He breathes out, hissing with venom and agony. 

“Like what?” Uttering the question feels risky, as if the answer will hold all the truth to how he feels. His face twists and turns as your mind spins with anxiety. This is it. 

“Just,” He groans with frustration, his voice raising again. “Like that! Fuck. Ace.” The lump in his throat grows, making him uncomfortable and his fists shake, clenching them to control the unravelling pressure.  

You blink back the swelling tears and take a braver step closer, “Tell me- god please Mattheo, I swear if this friendship means anything to you! You’ll fucking tell me.” The doubt creeps back in; Dean was wrong. He doesn’t see you the same. 

He’s cracking under the pressure and intensity of your gaze, seeing the fire burning like an inferno. There's no longer the usual glowing light he loves. How you stare at him like his answer will make all the difference to how you feel about him. But it's the way you mention your friendship with him that ultimately makes him combust, spilling his deepest, most impenetrable secret. 

“Because when you look at me like that, it makes me feel unworthy!” He spits, not pausing to even let you process the emotions coming out of him. “Like I’m breaking you apart from the inside and i-I can't handle that. I can't handle seeing you cry…or even when you look at me in anger. It makes me feel like a piece of shit for who I am.” 

His arms are up and his hands stress tangle through the wet locks in distress, “because you’re the best thing in my life! And yet I'm just scum on the bottom of your shoe.. And that motherfucker was right and I hate him for it, because I-i-I don't deserve you!.. Not your kindness… or attention… or friendship, and yet I'm still greedy. I still want more!”

He takes a step back, needing the distance from you. His chest heaves while he lowers his eyes at the pebbled ground, deep in realization that he’s slipped up. The silence between you two is killing him and he’s lost in his head with dread and doubt that he’s just gone and fucked up everything more. He raises his eyes with the little spirit he has left, eyes filled with great pain that knocks the air out of your lungs.

“You want… more.. With me?” The question is barely breathed out into the open space of increasing vulnerability. 

He licks his lips, contemplating his next words, taking his time to really study your appearance. He notes the lack of uncomfortableness. There's no show of disgust or rejection of his disclosure for how he feels. He’s surprised he’s still standing considering how his heart is beating, sure if it beats any more he’d need a replacement.

He swallows with force the last of his fear, feeling the lump drag down his throat and sink to the bottom of his pit. He nods, unable to utter anything else, allowing himself to be fully transparent for once. 

Tears of realization stream down your face as you comprehend his words, blending with the saturation on your face. He’s not even mad at you. He’s angry with himself. You know him well enough to spot that his eyes reveal his tell. He’s afraid. He wants more, even though he can’t admit it. Your heart skips a beat at the confession. 

He’s close enough to catch the onslaught of tears beginning and his face falls with fear. This is what he had apprehended. “Fuck!” He turns with anger, his fists clenching, his body shaking with regret and anguish. “Ace-e - why would you let me tell you this? Jesus!” He’s facing away from you to hold back his tears, his head clouded with assumptions of why you’re upset, all heading in the wrong direction. 

“W-what? Mattheo - no these are-” You step forwards reaching for him with a tender arm. 

“Dont. Don’t lie to me, Ace.” He shrugs your touch off, blocking his walls back up with ease. 

“Mattheo, I'm not lying! I’m not upset-” 

“Y/n I’m being serious.. I don’t want your pity-”

You scoff, offended, “Pity!? I've never once taken pity on you, Mattheo Riddle. Is that how you think I see you?” You blink back the tears as he turns again, fighting the frustrations to not just smack some sense into him. God, how oblivious is he to you. “I could never pity you. I respect you too much.”

“Respect me?! What in fuck for?” 

The water builds behind your eyes, blurring your vision amongst the rain, watching him express his insecurities. “B-because- because I fucking love you, you idiot!” 

There's a buzzing, fluttering feeling in his chest like all his nerves have lit on fire, and he blinks, frozen in shock. His chest rises and falls, shallow and slow, but his heart palpates rampaging behind it. The fuzzy feeling migrates around, running from his fingertips up to the apples of his cheeks like an unwelcoming chill as he attempts to process your words. 

Everything he thought he knew disintegrates out into the open space, like a gust of wind swept through his mind collecting all his stupid, suspecting doubts. You love him. Love. Love! The unfamiliar word bounces around his mind as he mulls over the possibilities of the meaning. His mouth runs dry despite the assault of rain, as he struggles to form any words. 

“I know this is hard, hell I can’t believe I just said that to you-”

You're shut up by the pleasant surprise of his lips smashing onto yours, with an effort of urgency urged behind the feel of his soft lips. His hands move to cup your face, your soaked face, the warmth of them rising a blush to your cheeks, as he holds them with tenderness. He kisses you with all the love he has, willing to give you every beat of his heart. He knows you already have it. It's always been yours. 

Truly, every piece of love for you is magnified by your relationship with him. Your generosity to accept him for who he is, to open your heart to him, even if he always believed it to be platonic. It was enough to grow his heart, and since then, it had always belonged to you. He pushes every ounce of emotion through, knowing it's easier to express than through words. 

“You-u..” He breathes, catching his breath as he pulls back, struggling to get the words out. 

“Actually?” He smiles in reassurance and hope glosses over his eyes. His chest vibrates as he chokes out a disbelieving laugh and his grin broadens. "You-u lo-” He can't even finish the sentence so choked up by all of this. 

A smile graces your face with wide, full cheeks that burn with happiness and you reciprocate his choked upness, feeling the tears start again. The way your head nods ridiculously fast, flicking your drenched hair in all directions, makes him chuckle and he cups your cheeks for fear of it flying off. “Not fucking with me are you now Ace, cuz I swear to god if you-” 

Leaning forwards you capture his lips effortlessly, now being the one to shut him up. It's sweet but passionate and he can’t get enough when you pull away. He threads a hand through his soaked hair in utter disbelief, his eyes returning to your loving ones. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. Kiss the crap out of you over and over.” He rests his forehead against yours and reaches down for your hand.

He’s taking in everything you’ve just said, grasping for the same longing that's been sitting, waiting to be released between the two of you like a dam. His face lights, and a little smile curves onto his face, and for the first time he feels the words sitting with ease on his tongue. “You have no idea how in love I am with you. Ace, I’ve been in love with you since forever. Fuck i-just you know I'm not good with words, feelings, all that bullshit.” 

You try to fight the blush creeping up your neck, but the smile that appears beaming brightly back at him is impossible to suppress. You’re completely speechless, overwhelmed with euphoric feelings of contentment. Words you’d only dreamed of hearing, now confessed to you in the eye of a storm, and suddenly you’re laughing. “Are we insane?”

His eyes light at your happiness, but he raises a curious brow, not catching what you said at the sound of another boom. “Are- we…WHAT?”

The sound of your laughter bubbles at his adorable confusion. “It doesn’t matter! We should head inside now.” He seems to catch the end of that and nods hurriedly, reaching out to grab your arm, leading the two of you up and into the castle. 

Under the shelter of the overhanging archways he turns, grabbing you by your shoulders, “wait- just let me get something else off my chest first.” He swallows, pushing the wet strands back behind your ears, “I’m s-sorry.” 

You watch him feeling an immense depth of pride for him, and you smile softly, reassuring him to continue. “look.. I won't apologise for hitting Dean, I don’t regret that and- i-I can’t tell you it all yet, but he said something that cut deep. Whether or not the asshole meant it, I couldn’t take how it made me feel. But I am sorry I ruined your night at the gig. Fuck- I was angry and jealous and I really was trying to look out for you.”

You nod in understanding, accepting that he’s not ready to bear that much emotion in one night, and bring him in for a hug. “Matty.. You don’t know how much I appreciate you trying.” He clings to you, a desperate boy finally receiving the much needed love he had been deprived of for too long. “And-d you didn’t really ruin my night. I wanted to go with you first, anyway. But I got in my head - the doubt i-i just didn’t want to ruin us.”

He pulls back cupping your cheeks, “god we’re stupid aren’t we?” He smiles amused with the obliviousness and blindness you both held for one another. “I’m just glad I didn’t lose you.”

You shake your head, “you never would have. I was bluffing completely.. I couldn’t handle being without you, Mattheo.”

He grins, leaning down to press another soft passionate kiss to your lips, “and you couldn’t have lost me even if you tried Ace. You’re literally iron cast around my heart. The knot is too tight. You’d have to break me just to free the attachment I have to you.” His eyes are sincere and hold so much emotion you’re verging on tears again. 

“Okay, ah let's not cry again. I wasn’t lying about not being able to handle that. Let's go back to my dorm. Come on.” His arm guides you wrapping around your waist, a stark contrast to the way his arm usually drapes over your shoulder casually. He helps you walk back to his dorm with care and compassion, the energy between you a mixture of excitement and lightness, the weight of the confession lifted. 

He helps you into his dorm, closing the door and gazes at you with pure happiness before searching his dorm for some towels. A room you’ve stood in many times before but never in this sense, and just being here with all your feelings out in the open makes your body prick with anticipation. 

You stand watching him shivering a little, and begin to unstick your thick sweater, clinging to your soaked through shirt, stripping it up with difficulty while Mattheo searches through his draws for some clean clothes. The head of the material sticks trapping your head and you groan, frustrated, trying to pull it off, catching Mattheo’s attention. He peers over his shoulder, laughing at the awkward situation he’s spotted you in. 

His gaze drops and his eyes darken shamelessly, admiring how your shirt clings to your body, accentuating your chest. He licks his lips, letting his thoughts run wild for once with no guilt, and stops what he was doing walking closer. His hands graze your waist, letting you know of his proximity as he speaks with a low husk in his tone. “Lemme help Ace.” 

He slides his hands gently up your sides till he pushes the sleeves of the sweater up, freeing your arms before helping squeeze your head through the hole. The sweater drops to the floor; the moment becoming charged with heightened tension and desperate looks reflected in both of you. 

His fingers descend, tracing down your sides in slow strokes that makes your heart leap your full attention on him. You exhale small shallow breaths, feeling your insides squirm under his intense stare, not daring to say a word. His hands wrap around the curve of your waist, tugging you inwards till you press fully up against him, giving you his signature boyish grin. 

“That's better.” His eyes flicker between the desperation dripping in your eyes to the soft parting of your lips, waiting with anticipation. 

His head dips, brushing his lips back against yours, and he whispers with the weight of a man ready to feast on his deepest desires. “Ace..you know I want you… don't you?” He’s so close that when he licks his lips, his tongue grazes your lower lip with the subtlest of touches and he relishes in the sucking in of your breath. Barely able to hold back the teasing smirk at your reaction, he presses his lips to your cheek in a gentle, tender kiss instead. 

You nod, your chest rising and falling with intense yearning, whispering back, “Yes.. I know now.”

“Good. That’s good.” He presses another kiss travelling up your cheek, sparking the heat to rise, flushing the skin a deep red. He grins sincerely, “you look so pretty when you blush.”

You swallow, feeling your body alight with need, buzzing with electricity that runs down to the tips of your toes. You wonder if he knows how aroused you feel right now. The rest of your clothes are slick still with rainwater, but you already know the puddle forming in your panties is definitely from the heat. You attempt to exhale quiet bated breaths throughout your nose, unable to trust your mouth to open, uncertain what kind of animalistic sound would fall out. 

Mattheo might be oblivious to love, but he’s a keen observer in the act of sexual intimacy. It’s as if his eyes are an x-ray lust detector. He knows all the tells of an aroused woman. “So pretty Ace, fuck..you’re making me want to kiss you senseless.” His voice strains with restraint. He’s still holding onto some concern, not wanting to freak you out with all his intense energy waiting to consume you. 

The struggle in his tone only makes you want him more and your eyes lift upwards, filled with hungry persuasions. Uttering a simple, “please.” 

The moment you plead with those sweet eyes, all his control gets thrown out the window. Taking your jaw in his hand, he leans back in to kiss you. His lips melting onto yours, the two of your lips colliding in synchronization. His hands cup the nape of your head, tilting it back, and diving deeper, his tongue pushes, seeking entrance as kindly as he can be while he fights the pure animalistic hunger to devour you urgently. 

You moan softly, allowing him access, the two of your tongues dancing with one another like a fervent tango. He mumbles softly against them, “Do you know how long I craved to feel these lips, Ace?” 

A deep flush grows on your cheeks and you breathe heavily, gazing up, feeling his lips kiss along the side of your neck. “How long?” You ask breathlessly. 

He chuckles at your response and interest. “too fucking long. I always knew that you’d taste this sweet.” The soft sighs and hums that vibrate out of you have his mind spinning and he presses his lips harder onto your skin, needing to entice more out of you. He pulls you closer to him before he’s back, kissing your lips, engulfing you completely. 

The two of you continue to make out, still standing, before his fingers slip under your wet shirt and he hisses at the cold contact. “Merin, you're still freezing.” 

“I’m okay.” You reassure him, shivering from his touch. 

He smiles, noticing the shiver. “Yeah?”

You nod, promising him, finding it sweet how he’s concerned about you. Sliding your own hands up his arms, you find solace cupping the back of his neck, pulling him down, needing another kiss. He falls back into the growing pattern, not wanting to miss even a single moment of your touch. 

“I know a way you can warm me up, though.” 

His eyes flutter open and he gazes at you, his eyes glistening with similar intention. “Oh, yeah?” He flashes an amused smile, intrigued by your flirtatious energy. “What might that be, Ace?” 

Biting your lip with a teasing smile of your own, you step back, pulling him with you onto the bed, causing him to chuckle happily. His arms flex, holding himself up from crushing you with his weight, and his head dips. “Fuck, you look so sexy when you bite that.” 

Your face contorts with a soft whine at the flustering compliment and he grins, more pleased with your reaction. His lips reclaim yours once more with delicate urgency, and you match it quickly getting lost, diving your hands into his curls. Having only stroked his hair tenderly, your fingers move with eagerness, tugging and pulling desperately to get a sound out of him. 

His hands trace you with the utmost respect and value, different from his experiences with other girls. There's reasoning and depth behind every touch. Enjoying every sweet moment, being able to explore every curve he’s only dreamed about touching. He’s finally able to hold you the way he's always wanted, no longer needing to hide behind his fragile vulnerability in the dark. He's finally giving you all of him under the limelight, and he hopes to show you how he’s felt this whole time. 

Mattheo groans at each tug of hair, lowering himself to keep kissing you, his hands sliding under your shirt again, feeling the way your body contracts. The muscles twitch with sensitivity and he swallows your gasp, grinning before pushing dominantly his tongue back in. His fingers peel the wet shirt up and over your bra. 

He sits up ditching his own shirt, and your hands roam over his chest, feeling the groves of his past scars, sending shivers down his back. He watches gazing at your eyes and how they view him. You already know about the meaning behind them, but now you get to love them, and he bites his lip to not get choked up at how you look at him with love in your eyes. 

He grabs your wrists, gently kissing both of them before he pins them above your head, shocking a gasp out of you. He grins, satisfied by your reaction as he shifts, sliding his hands upwards, intertwining your fingers together in an intimate hand hold.

“I’ll go gentle on you...just for today, yeah.” Another cheeky grin flashes your way, unaware of the concealed experience of your sexual life. 

You laugh at his sweet reassurance, squeezing his hands, loving the feeling of holding onto him. “I’m really not as innocent as you believe, Matty.” 

He raises a brow with surprised curiosity. “Are you telling me I’m not about to be your first Ace?” 

The silence confuses him, for when he looks down at you, there's a flash of guilt in your eyes. “I’m not?” He feels a wave of jealousy flow through his veins at the thought of you with someone else, though he knows he has no reason to. He leans down, carrying on his sensual onslaught, kissing up behind your ear. He nips it gently as he whispers sultry, “really?” 

Feeling your head nod, he lets out a tiny groan, mostly at himself for taking too fucking long to get his shit together. “That is a shame, baby.” 

Turning your head to lock with his sight, reassuring him, “It means more with you, though, Matty.” 

His eyes soften, giving a curt nod. He can see the sincerity and honesty in your eyes and he offers a smile back, pecking you. He knows it's true, as it is for him. “The same goes for me.” He cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “This isn't a one time thing, okay? You mean so much to me, Ace, and never again do I want to make you feel how I did before.” 

His eyes hold so much truth and devotion that you can feel your eyes beginning to water. That is before his hips shift, pressing ever so subtly down, getting into a grinding rhythm as he distracts you from the raw moment with kisses.

He almost jumps out of his skin when your bold hand explores down south, not expecting you to act so brazenly. He shifts, rolling onto his side, allowing your hand to slip inside his pants and wrap around his cock. He can’t help but buck his hips into your palm at the feel of your hand making contact.

“Fuck-Ace.” His eyes droop, looking at you shifting onto your side too, your tits squishing together in the constraints of your bra, his mouth gaping letting out a hitched shaky breath. 

Capturing your lips once more, moaning into your mouth, he drowns in the pleasure of how your hand increasingly pumps his cock up and down. He murmurs, resting his forehead against yours with knitted brows, “oh - yeah, ace like that.” 

His own hands creep and unbutton your jeans, pushing them down with a bit of urgency. “This okay?” 

You nod and ask back, “You? This okay?” 

He nods, kissing your cheek and down your neck, “Yes.. better than okay- your hand feels so good.” 

You tug your jeans down, kicking them off revealing your panties and he groans, peering down, before he slides a hand rubbing your thigh and tracing his fingers teasingly over the skin as they itch with temptation, brushing gently over your core. He rubs, applying slow pressure over your clothed covered clit and runs a hand through your hair, tugging it back to kiss you. He loves hearing your little sounds muffled into his mouth at the extra sensation you’re feeling.

“So pretty..you sounds so hot.” 

You whine sensitively and he swears he’s sent to heaven at the harmonic pitch of your voice. His cock twitches, pulsing in your hand to the sound. Your actions slow focusing on your pleasure and for once he doesn’t mind not being the centre of attention. 

He watches with an intense focus full of desire at how your pretty eyes can’t handle staying open, fluttering. The steady rise of your chest increases with every bit of pressure he rubs tauntingly slow. He can't wait any longer, maneuvering his hand under your panties, sliding one finger in, his skin saturated instantly in your juices. 

His own breathing congeals to short tiny gasps, eyes darkening, consumed with lustral appreciation. “Soakin Ace. You've been this wet the whole time?” 

His question, which seems sincere, causes a flustered reaction and you moan again, grabbing hold of the sheets. He takes it as a yes. 

Soft moans of satisfaction infiltrate the room at each hum of your lips. He can feel just how much you’re enjoying this, welcoming him to do what he wants. The trust you have to know what he’s doing is appreciated, and he hums himself in arrogance. Every reaction, sound, movement - watching as your hips begin to jut slightly seek more friction only fills him with a deep pride. You're his girl now, and he’ll never disappoint you again. 

His lips move peppering kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin, seeking the achievement of leaving marks of purple hues. “You like that, yeah?”

His finger protrudes deeper, gaining a steady pace, and his eyes flicker away from decoration markings on your neck to your legs spreading wider for his hand. He needs more, hearing every gasp and the sweet moan exhaling from you is pure bliss, and makes him feel on cloud nine.

He hisses gently at how your hand involuntarily squeezes the nearest thing, which happens to be his cock still. It's torture, as you're so focused on him, just pleasing him to even notice the subtle teasing you’re providing. “Sweetheart..” His tone is gritted with bated breath. “F-fuck, please either let go or do something with your hand.” 

You moan at the pet name and begin pumping him again, trying to multitask, your brows frowning at his addition of another finger. “Ah- sorry Matty.. I’m trying…just feels s’good!”

He grins at your struggle to speak. “Yeah, feels good?” His fingers meticulously move with skill, slick knuckles deep in your cunt, before he curls them, scraping the spot to make your back arch. 

There’s a string of whines as your hips buck up into his hand, “Uh! Yes!” 

“Yeah, you want another? Want me to stretch you out…wanna be ready for me, don’t you, Ace?” 

While his words are forward and prompting for more, he doesn’t make any moves to do anything until you give him confirmation. He’s continuously checking for your assurance, making sure this is what you want. He just wants to bring you pleasure, watch you get off riding slowly onto his fingers. How your back is arching and your muttering soft pleads, all for him. What's yours is his right. 

You nod desperately, “Please Matty!” 

He obliges, pushing in a third with ease, your walls contracting to fit him snug inside your drenched pussy. The warmth that evades his fingers has him groaning, listening to a new wave of mews slur out of you. “Fuck-that’s it. Such a good girl, baby.” 

He bites back the small protest when you release his cock and grip his arm instead, the indents of your nails digging into his skin, stinging but filling him with a possessive power. He wants your marks on him as much as he wants to leave them on you. To combine your bodies as one and intertwine in a way that goes beyond physical. 

Pure bliss overcomes your face and you turn, opening your eyes, glossy with need. Bringing his head down in urgency, you plead. “Matty…Matty, I want more.. Please, I don’t wanna cum unless it’s in you.” 

“Shit-t yes yeah?”

His fingers slowly drag, retracting out, pulling a needy whine from the back of your throat, and you nod urgently. He gives his fingers a quick lick, not wanting to waste a single drop of you, watching focused how you shuffle out of your panties. 

He shifts sitting up and starts removing his own wet pants with great difficulty. The jeans are heavy and compressed to his thighs tight, causing them to stick, his groin constricted pushing snuggly against the material of his unbutton pants. “Shit- fuck, these are fucking tight now.”

Wandering his gaze at your movements, he watches frozen, disbelieving the vision before him. Sitting up onto your elbows, you unclip your bra, freeing your tits and exposing yourself fully. His pants sit halfway down his legs, his jaw tensing, eyes gazing with enamour at your bare body. He blinks again, swearing this has to be one very good sex dream. 

“Fucking Salazar.” He takes in your body as you lay waiting patiently. His lustful gaze only makes you that much hotter. He leans against the bedpost, unable to drag his eyes away. “Ace?”

“Yeah?” 

“Just checking this is real.” He finishes pulling his pants down, almost tripping over them with excitement that draws a giggle out of you. The sound of your laugh shakes him out of his daze, and he grins cheekily, continuing his mission of ridding his clothes as fast as possible. “God, I love your laugh.. gonna make me cum right now.”

Your laugh grows in ecstatic shock at his vulgar words. “Mattheo!”

“Oh yeah, look at you practicing screaming already.” He grins, finding your flustering adoring. He frees his cock, admiring the absolutely thirsty look painting your face. He can’t help how his mind backtracks to your admission of not being a virgin, and he lets out a speck of jealousy. “Tell me really, am I bigger?” 

“Bigger?” Only just are your eyes able to drift away and up with a furrowed brow. 

“Yeah.. Then the fucker who stole your virginity.” 

You can’t help the pleased laugh breaking out at his not-so-subtle jealousy, trying to hold back the smug attitude. “Seriously, you're getting jealous now, while I'm baring not only my body but my heart and soul to you.” Lifting a feigned unimpressed eyebrow, you watch with astonishment at how his face changes, expressing a small sheepish smile. 

You beckon him closer with a finger, welcoming the confidence flowing through you. “Come here.” 

As if pulled by a magnet, he crawls back down, hovering above, his eyes gleaming enticingly and the deep inhale of need. The way you’re looking at him as if he holds all your answers, holds all the warmth for you and that he’s the only one to bring you happiness prick at his skin, feeling nervous. But then you smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and whisper an adorable, “Hi.”

He grins back, finding himself relaxing just at the mere sight of those brimming cheeks and whispers back, “Hey gorgeous.”

His hands roam, maneuvering over your body and pushing your thighs apart. He notes how your eyes fall, breath spiking with anticipation. “Hey, look at me.” His voice is a soft, strained whisper, on the break of losing it altogether as the head of his tip drags through your folds. “You know I love your eyes. It's one of your favourite features of mine.” 

He’s never done this before. Been so openly intimate, especially as he’s preparing to fuck someone. He nudges the tip a little further in just gently, a low rumble etching out with hoarse feralness. “I want your eyes on me the whole time, ok Ace.” 

Meeting his eye, losing yourself drowning in warm pools of brown neediness, listening to his gentle but essential request, you nod in confirmation. “I will. I never want to turn my back on you again. I love your eyes too much, too.” 

His cheeks are hurting from how much they’ve stretched into a smile tonight. “God, you’re perfect, aren’t you?” He captures your lips in a short but passionate kiss.

“Just tell me if it's too much, yeah.” He warns concerningly, biting back the desire to lose control and wreck you completely. At just your nod he utters, looking back up, “words Ace.” 

“I will.. yeah, Matty just please..”

“Good girl, such sweet manners.” He grins, licking his lip as he grips his cock, nudging it further in between your folds, his eyes fixed on the way your pretty pussy embraces the head so perfectly, like it was made just for him. A glottal groan of relief passes through his lips and he thrusts his hips gently, his cock sliding deeper into the tightness of your warm walls. 

“Oh-f-fuck.” He drops his head, pressing his forehead already beginning to bare a sheen of sweat onto yours, feeling the gaping of your own mouth. The sound that pulls from you is sinful, a delicious lewd moan that makes him grip your hips with firmness to not fall apart so quickly. 

“God-yeah…You feel so fucking’good.”

At the flexible way your legs bend back towards your chest naturally, he groans breathlessly, taking it as a sign you’re okay for him to pick up the pace. His hips thrust, driving into you with a satisfying rhythm, the moans continuing to tumble from your lips. 

“That’s it… you sound so pretty, baby.” He rasps low and husky. He’s looking at everything, watching the pleasure etched on your face while you lay with your eyes scrunched closed, absorbing it all. He flickers his eyes back and forth from how his cock slides between your folds captivatingly and up to your pretty blessed out face. Your mouth gaping as streams of whiney moans flows out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. “Fuck, I don't know where to look baby…look so good taking me.”

Clutching onto him with a grip of iron, nails pinching into his skin as he cages your body in. His biceps bulge under the movement of holding his weight above you. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and he groans, feeling your fingers dig into his hair, listening to your babbled praises. “Matty- ah feel s’good.” 

He roams his hands, stretching your legs wider as he presses his palm down to stabilize himself, his hips vigorously bucking with the strength of a raging bull. He doesn’t know how he told himself he could go easy, with the way your pussy squeezes his cock feels as good as pure heroine. He plants kisses on your neck and turns your head towards him, pressing his lips back onto yours. 

He’s in love with the way you feel, the way you sound, your touches roaming his body, switching from gentle caresses to carnal scratches. He feels whole with you, intertwined as bursts of passion taint your tongues, each sound harmonising together heavenly. “Ace.. fuck, you’re so perfect.” 

You nod, trying to form a solid thought in response, but the way the tip of his cock is gliding so effortlessly into your cervix only makes you chant his name, your voice breaking with a high pitch strain.

It’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever witnessed and he kisses your ear, whispering sweet nothings into them, encouraging your onboarding orgasm. “Mmm yeah, cum for me baby, so fuckin pretty wanna watch you fall apart.”

Your climax breaks, spots of white light blurring your vision and you tighten your arms around him, clinging to the one thing grounding you from the overwhelming pleasure. His head lifts, watching with pure delight at the way your body convulses, glistening with sweat like an ethereal being. His body shakes as his hips jutter following you. Broken groans mumble against the skin of your neck as he spills his seed into you entirely. 

He huffs a tired pant, not wanting to move, for he’s never felt so whole as right now. He murmurs softly, pressing a sloppy kiss to your ear, “s'good..the best ace. I could live in your pussy, just fall asleep and never wake up.”

You catch your breath, letting out a shaky laugh that makes your cunt squeeze his cock, releasing another deep groan. He shifts his cock aching sensitivity and pulls out rolling to lie beside you, wrapping an arm around your neck to tuck you into his side.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “You okay?” 

Nodding with droopy eyes, you plant a kiss on his collarbone and try to calm your mind and absorb the reality of what’s just happened. “Yeah..you're definitely bigger.” You grin answering his earlier question. You blink, gazing up at him with nothing but love and a rapturous glow on your face. “but I’m ok.. im great.” 

He chuckles warmly, not even caring to be cocky anymore. He tangles his hand into the still wet knot of your locks. “fuck yeah you are..and your super sure you're real?”

You pinch his thigh, making a sudden squeal come out of his mouth. “Alright! Aight, no need to seek revenge on me - I already apologised.” He jests cupping your head in a firm hold like one of his usual headlocks, but only plants a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“I am sorry, though, and I mean it.” He shifts so your face is parallel to his and he admires the returning light that shines back into your eyes, a warmth that lights the darkness inside him. He brushes your check with his thumb, over the red hues adorning your cheeks, evidence of your spent state. 

“I may be a twat a good portion of the time, and this-”, he gestures between the two of you. “Still scares me, so fucking much.” His words are raw and burn with a vulnerability that still sits unfamiliar in his throat. “You’re truly an enigma. I still don’t know what in the hell you see in me?”

You smile, eyes brimming with the utmost love. "I see everything you don’t.” 

It’s the truth, and it always has been. The way Mattheo makes you feel is frightening, electrifying, like you’re caught in a storm and he’s your saving grace, parting the seas, giving you everything you need. How his eyes shine, reflecting your clear emotion, makes your heart beat with the force of a thousand drums stimulating the rest of your body.

A warm buzz vibrates between the two of you, knowing that all along, everything you were both missing was right there. The notion that you'll both be alright, swaddled in the new cocoon of your relationship, both finally receiving the love you deserve together.

This work is my own, please don't copy or claim. Any and all interactions are appreciated, thank you for reading! ty again @amongemeraldclouds for your love and support! couldn't have done this without you!

Navigation. Masterlist. Mattheo Riddle Masterlist.

©️pizzaapeteer 2025

[blythedolly]

let me hear you.

—♡ you’re a famous popstar and leon kennedy is your beloved bodyguard. between the public eye and having to keep your relationship private for your safety, leons professionalism is once again tested.

—♡ warnings: bodyguard!leon, jealous/possessive, men being gross, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected p in v, choking, size difference, pet names.

leon never used to be the possessive type until you landed in his grasp. even though he knew nobody could ever steal you from him, it was a quiet fear of his. the thing is, to the public eye, leon was nothing but your bodyguard. your protector. although, most people were afraid of him based on his physique. standing at 6ft tall with arm muscles the size of the average human head tends to scare off weak insecure men, he would constantly have to witness these men lusting over you. his girl, and it made him seethe. It was hard to continually remind himself that this was part of his job, and you were a famous popstar. obviously, you're going to get a lot of attention, and he was ashamed to admit that it still bothered him. 

like today. he overheard two men talking about you, he didn't recognize them. which was quite rare, considering most of the time these award show afterparties were full of other extremely popular musicians. but no matter who was in that room, and how famous they were, you always stole their attention and lustful gazes. 

“just look at her, god. the things i’d love to do to her…” the man says to his friend, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief as he watched you speak to one of your friends. 

“i know, did you see her new music video? leaves very little to the imagination for sure” the other man chuckled. before the two could say anything else, you finally spotted leon standing behind the two and a delicate smile graced your face. the boys then turned around, finally noticing leon standing there. they went pale in the face as you approached. knowing that he’d definitely heard every word they said based off the angry look leon was giving them. he could truly be terrifying when he wanted to. you’d seen that side of him many times, but never aimed at you of course. leon was a powerful man, able to get rid of them with a simple snap of his finger. you stood next to him, not realizing his displeased expression until you’d tilted your neck up to look into his eyes. he was still staring at them.

“leon, is everything ok?” you asked, tone worried as you followed his gaze and set your eyes on the two men you hadn’t even noticed before. he didn’t respond, his large hand wrapped around your arm as he led you away from the area. not questioning a single thing as it was crystal clear something was bothering him a significant amount. once the two of you had made it back to your hotel room, you turned to look at him as he closed the door.

“are you mad because they were looking at me? because you know i’d never even think to-” you began to explain.

“i know you wouldn’t.” leon interrupted, and your gaze softened.

“then what’s wrong?” you ask once again, approaching him slowly, looking into his eyes. he eventually met your eyes after a moment. “what were they saying?”

“nothing that you need to worry about, doll.” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours. never would you have imagined leon could be so soft.

“alright,” you say, a soft smile reappearing on your face. “i’m just gonna freshen up a little, ok?” you add, pressing a kiss to his lips before approaching the bathroom. leon sat down on the couch, hands rubbing his face as he tried to forget about what he’d heard earlier in the night. which was almost impossible, considering he heard those exact voices outside of the door. the familiar anger began to rise once again as he got up from the couch and passed towards the door, opening it quickly and immediately spotting the same smug faces he was mentally murdering moments ago.

they both gulped, eyes wide as they stood in front of the front door a meter from yours. they quickly entered the room to avoid confrontation. leon stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck they were doing in the room next to yours. before he could do anything else, your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“was someone at the door?” you ask, he turned his head to face you. looking at you adorned in one of his large shirts. quietly admiring the way your body drowned in it.

“two boys just went into the room next door. I assumed they’d reserved this floor for… other famous people i guess.”

“the ones that you were giving the death stare to earlier?” you ask, a cheeky smile on your face. “baby, they are famous.” you chuckle as you stared at your boyfriend. he shook his head, trying to hide his displeasure to the information he’d just heard.

“well, excuse me for not being up to date with pop culture, i dedicate all of my time to protecting you”

he says, you loved when he’d get sassy like this. their words from earlier kept repeating in his head as he approaches you, placing his large hands on your waist, kissing your lips delicately. “they don’t look like the famous type,” he says as he places his mouth to your neck, the feeling of his lips tickling your skin in the most delicious way. you whined softly. and that’s when he got the idea. the idea that would show those stupid guys who you belong to. who really gets to fuck you.

he smirked against you, lips abusing your skin and his hot tongue trailing over your sensitive spots. his hands found your ass, squeezing your cheeks sadistically which caused a sudden gasp to escape your throat. normally, leon would place his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet when you weren't at home, just in case people were around. the hotel was unreasonably fancy, but the walls still seemed paper thin, but this time he didn’t. you didn’t question it. you never questioned him.

“that’s it, let me hear your pretty sounds,” he says as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the pristine king-sized bed. 

he dropped you onto the mattress and hovered his frame over yours. his lips found yours once again, and you whined as his tongue slipped between yours. he’s all too familiar with how vocal you can be. even with his hand over your mouth or your head buried into the pillow, he can hear you crystal clear. he knew anyone nearby would be able to hear if he didn’t hush you, and that’s exactly what he wanted. for those stupid little pricks to hear how good he makes you feel. over and over.

his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft skin. you whined louder this time. you were so goddamn submissive under his touch, it drove him crazy.

he raised his stolen t-shirt up your body, exposing your torso as he lowered his head. trailing kisses all over your soft skin. you were addicted to the feeling of his stubble against you, he’d barely done anything and you were already a whimpering mess. his head trailed lower and lower. licking the skin above your panty line as he hooks his fingers into the edges of the fabric. effortlessly peeling them down your legs and throwing them off to the side.

he began peppering kisses to your inner thighs, feeling his hot breath against your dripping cunt was driving you wild.

“leon…” you whimpered loudly, legs trembling in suspense of the act that he was about to do. you were expecting him to respond. something like “be patient” or “good girls know how to wait” but he didn’t, he latched his lips onto your clit, causing your back to arch off the bed. your hand flew to your mouth, biting down on the side to muffle your moans. but leon stopped.

“no, baby girl. let me hear you,” you nodded your head, staring down at him between your legs. noticing the glistening shine of your wetness on his chin under the dull lighting of the room.

“good girl,” he said before diving back in. aggressively eating you out as he’s done many times before. your moans were quick to fill the room. your hands flew down to grasp at his blonde hair. you spread your legs wider, giving him as much access to you as possible. to say he was addicted to your sweet essence was an understatement. the way you shivered with every delicate swipe of his tongue against your sensitive crevices. his tongue studying each and every one, torturously slow, with enough force to send you into oblivion.

“l-leon, i’m about to… i can feel it-” you whine breathlessly as your orgasm approaches. hitting you fast before you could continue your stuttered sentence. loud whiny moans filling the room as you rode out your high.

he didn’t halt until your legs began twitching, licking up all of the cum you provided for him in exchange for an orgasm. he climbed back up your body slowly, leaving sloppy kisses up your stomach along the way.

he was proud of himself knowing how good he could make you feel with little to no effort. enamored by the way your body reacted to his touches. he know the boys would’ve heard everything he’d just done, but of course, he wasn’t satisfied just yet. his hand wrapped it’s way back around your throat once his face aligned with yours, his chin damp with your cum.

“all wet,” you said, smiling as your hand raised to his face. tracing along the wet area of his face. “wanna make somethin else wet too,” you added, moving the same hand between your bodies and palming his hardened cock over his pants.

“where did you ever learn to be such a dirty girl?” he grunted, a slight smile on his face as he moved your hand and pinned it beside your head.

“we both know the answer to that,” you bit your lip as his hand tightened around your wrist, looking up at him through squinted eyes. he moved back to remove his shirt, and you bit your lip as he did so. you followed his steps and removed your own. clothes thrown carelessly to the floor.

he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down, not bothering to completely remove the articles of clothing. he was getting impatient. he hovered over you once again, his large hands separating your thighs as far as they could go and lined himself up with your dripping entrance. he wasted no time, thrusting forward and impaling you with his cock with no warning. you screamed, hands flying to grasp his shoulders as he quickly set a brutal pace. your back arched off the mattress, pressing firmly against leons as he pounded into you. legs wrapping tightly around his muscular body.

“oh, f-fuck. leon!” you moaned, the head of the bed clunking against the wall with each of his intense thrusts. he grunts into your ear sadistically, fingers leaving crescent shapes on your thigh as they dig into your skin.

“wanna feel you cumming around me, baby. think you can do that for me?” he asks, you nodded your head. tears dripping down your cheeks as the pleasure because too much for your body to cope with. it didn’t take long for another orgasm to pulse through your body, legs trembling around leons torso as you chant his name. before you could process anything else, he’d flipped you onto your stomach. shoving his cock deep inside you once more as he held your hips to him. despite being extremely sensitive from your previous orgasms, you still craved more of him. your loud moans echoed off the walls as he took you from behind. clenching your walls around him to coax his orgasm out of him. craving the feeling of his cum flooding into you. 

you felt another orgasm approach as his thrusts became sloppy, indicating that he was also moments away from finishing.

“leon!” you moan, clutching the bedsheets below as the two of you came together. leon eventually stopped once your highs had subsided. he tiredly flipped you onto your back once more, tracing his rough fingers along your damp cheek.

“mm… leon… y’think anyone heard us?” you ask, voice breathy as your tired body rests comfortably beneath him.

“hard for em not to,” he replies, tracing his finger along your bottom lip before placing a soft kiss there.

and it was safe to say they’d definitely heard based on the looks they were giving the two of you the following morning. leon smirked proudly, hand resting on your waist as the two of you walked past them. and even if they'd somehow not heard leon fucking your brains out, your obvious limp would easily give it away.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sooo what if Dante falls in love with Enzo’s pretty little niece who’s in town for a visit or for work? Like they have a little meet-cute when Enzo asks her to run an errand for him and instead runs into Dante? (Love your stuff!!🩵)

How to pick up a package, almost die and accidentally get a hot boyfriend: A beginner’s guide

Pairing: Dante x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: All you had to do was pick up a package. Simple, right? Instead, you faceplant into a silver-haired menace, survive a monster attack and somehow leave with a date. Family errands have never been this dangerous - or this attractive.

Warnings: Dante isn't as flirty in this one (but still hilarious no worries), reader is a normal chick in this fic for once, apart from the usual, nothing to fear lol

My Dante request are still open so HIT ME UP

Enzo doesn’t give you much to go on.

"Pick up a package from Vito’s," he practically orders, short and impatient.

"Tell him it’s for me. In and out. No big deal. And don’t talk to anyone except Vito, got it?"

You don't even hesitate. You’re just visiting for a few weeks before returning back home - a favour for family sounds easy enough and never hurt nobody. After all, Enzo is your favourite uncle. Well, to be specific, he’s your only uncle. But still your favourite.

You dart around the area he described to you with no real aim. What are you even looking for? A supermarket, a gun shop? Given Enzo’s shady business, nothing is impossible.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally spot it. The shop's tucked between two boarded-up buildings, the neon sign crackling like it’s one cough away from dying. You hesitate only a second before pushing inside. Oh, hopefully this doesn’t mean trouble. Your uncle wouldn’t send you straight into danger after all…

Right?

The bell overhead gives a tired rattle.

And before you’re really able to focus on anything inside, you slam into him.

Tall, solid, wild white hair falling into light, piercing eyes. Blue? Silver? You can’t tell, and honestly, you’re too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

"Easy, princess," he drawls, a rough little laugh curling out of him as he catches your elbow before you hit the ground.

You flush, muttering something like an apology. No, no, no. As if running someone over isn’t worse enough, why does he have to be this handsome?

He doesn’t let go right away, his touch lingering around your arm just a few seconds to long.

His gaze slides down you. Not rude, not predatory, just… curious. Focused. Like he’s cataloging you, every detail.

You pull yourself together enough to finally speak up, force your body to finally cooperate again.

"I’m just picking something up. For my uncle. Enzo. Are you Vito, by any chance?"

You idiot. As if some random guy in a shop named Vito’s would know your uncle. As if this man looks like someone named Vito.

And yet, his expression shifts the second you say the name. Subtle. You wouldn’t catch it if you weren’t still embarrassingly focused on him.

"Enzo, huh," he comments, voice dipping a little lower.

"Didn’t know he had family. Why did he send someone like you here?"

You shrug awkward, caught completely off-guard again. Why on earth does your uncle know men like him? And why are you still single if he does?

"Just visiting. I’m not, uh… part of anything."

You mean business. You mean the shady stuff you know Enzo keeps quiet about. Not that you know what it is, exactly. To be honest, you really don’t want to. But

He smiles at your clumsy words - slow, almost dangerous. Like he knows exactly how little you actually know, like he knows all too well what “anything” means.

What a cute little thing you are.

"Yeah," he murmurs, his thumb brushing absently against the crook of your elbow before he finally lets go.

"You don't look like you are."

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t tell if it’s a warning or a compliment. Maybe both. Or maybe nothing at all.

You clear your throat, trying to shake it off. Focus. You aren’t 12 anymore, that guy isn’t Gojo Satoru. Talking to handsome guys might not be your daily business, but to get this flustered by it is still embarrassing.

"So, uh… you work here?"

The laugh that bursts out of him is genuine, rough and amused.

"Hell no," he replies casually.

"Just passing through. Like you. What’s your name, by the way?"

“(y/n). And…yours?”

“Huh, nice to meet ya. It’s Dante for you.”

You nod, fiddling nervously with the strap of your bag. Dante…not a name you’ve heard that often until now. Does it suit him? You eye him up and down as subtle as possible, catch a glimpse of his tones upper body and wild eyes. Oh, it definitely does.

 "Right. Cool. Well. I’ll just-"

Before you can finish, a low, almost vibrating sound rumbles through the shop.

Your heart drops to the floor.

Not a machine.

Something alive.

The easy-going tilt of Dante's body sharpens instantly. His hand is already moving toward the weapon slung across his back you haven’t even noticed before you have the chance to realize something's wrong.

"Get behind me," he mutters, stepping between you and the shadows gathering near the back wall.

"Wait, what-?"

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. That sounds exactly like the shady business, like you should have never been here in the first place. What are you supposed to do? Run? Hide? Stay behind Dante? Get away from him as far as possible? Your mind races back and forth, stiff body not able to move a single inch.

And then they lurch into the light, creatures that should not exist, and the room explodes into chaos.

You barely manage to scramble behind a rack of rusted car parts as Dante moves.

He fights like a storm. Fast, wild, beautiful in a way that’s terrifying. His sword sings through the air, cutting down the creatures one by one.

You can't look away. Not from the monsters. Not from him.

When the last body hits the floor within what feels like the blink of an eye, smoking and twitching, he straightens, breathing steady like he just finished a jog, not a slaughter.

What.

The.

Hell.

He turns, catching you staring.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he questions, and this time the nickname lands softer, even gentle, as if he didn’t go berserk a few seconds ago.

You nod, because your voice is lost somewhere back by the register, back where you came from.

Dante crosses the ruined shop in a few strides, reaching out his hand again. This time, when you take it, your fingers curl instinctively into his, shaking by the aftermath of what just happened.

You didn’t even register what was going on. That creatures just destroyed the shop and that stranger, that handsome stranger named Dante, slaughtered them like a turkey at Thanksgiving. What on earth was that?

"C'mon," he urges, voice low and rough with something you can't name while softly pushing you back onto your wobbly feet.

"Let's get you outta here."

The walk back is quieter, but not awkward. Well, at least not as awkward as it should be, given the scene from earlier. Every few steps, Dante’s hand brushes against yours like he’s checking you’re still there.

You sneak glances at him, trying to fit the man you just met with the man who just tore monsters apart like it was nothing.

"You’re... not exactly normal, are you?" you ask finally.

He huffs a laugh.

"Depends who you ask."

"And those things-?"

"Pests," he explains briefly, smirking sideways at you.

"Wrong place, wrong time."

You squint your eyes while tilting your head. Pests, seriously?

"Pests don’t usually have that many teeth."

He chuckles again, slow and warm, and without thinking about it, he slings his arm around your shoulders.

You freeze for half a second. This came so sudden, so out of the blue that you can’t help but shamelessly stare at him with big eyes. After all the things you just saw, after it is more than clear that this man isn’t just a friendly neighbour from next door while you’re nothing but an ordinary woman, he still cares about you?' At the moment, none of this matters. Before you can convince yourself otherwise, you lean into him, because it feels weirdly natural. Like you fit there. Like this is somehow where you belong. Like this is where you should be.

It has to be the white hair. It’s always the white hair.

By the time you reach Enzo’s assaulted front step, you're tucked snug against Dante’s side, his hand draped lazily along your jacket as you still hold onto him for what feels like dear life. Getting comforted by a handsome stranger after almost dying definitely wasn’t on your bingo card for today. That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy it, though.

He rings the bell with a cocky little smile.

“That’s gonna be fun.”

When Enzo opens the door, he stops cold, taking in the two of you - your bright, nervous smile, Dante’s possessive arm, the wrecked look in your eyes that says you’ve seen way more than you were supposed to.

Dante grins lazily. "Special delivery," he announces proudly.

Enzo’s eyes narrow like a threat he’s definitely going to make, taking a step back before inspecting your body carefully.

“Did you get hurt?”

“No, but if it wasn’t for Dante, I might be death by now. I owe him my life.”

“The only thing you owe me is a date, sweetheart. Can you believe I met your niece? You never told me you have one!”

Uncle Enzo doesn’t answer. The second you disappear inside - still shaken, still clueless - Enzo grabs Dante by the arm and drags him onto the porch.

"You’re outta your damn mind," Enzo hisses, voice low but furious.

"She’s not part of this world."

Dante smirks, unbothered, dragging a toothpick from his pocket and slipping it between his teeth.

"Yeah?" he says lazily.

"Seems like the world found her anyway. And by world, I include myself too. What a cute little thing she is. Never thought your relatives could look like…this."

Enzo steps closer, jabbing a finger into Dante’s chest.

"Stay away from her. She's not built for this. She’s not-"

He cuts off, running a hand through his thinning hair, suddenly looking a hell of a lot older.

"She’s just a kid, Dante. A good one. Innocent. Don’t ruin her."

Dante’s face shifts.

For a second, just a second, the mask cracks - and you see something fierce and guilty flicker in his pale eyes.

He bites down on the toothpick harder.

"I know," he mutters, voice low.

And because you’re standing just inside the door, because you heard the whole damn thing,  you press your back to the wall, heart pounding, not sure whether you want to run away from him...

...or straight toward him.

The door creaks under your weight, giving you away with a loud squeak.

Dante's head snaps toward the sound, a slow grin spreading across his mouth like a sunrise. Enzo groans like a man being personally victimized by the universe.

"Shit," you blurt, caught red-handed even though you try desperately to escape last-minute.

"Well, well," Dante drawls, stepping back inside like he owns the place, that cocky swagger back in full force.

"How much of that did you hear, princess?"

You lift your chin defiantly, cheeks burning.

"Enough to know you called me cute."

Dante winks, completely unrepentant.

"That I did. You gonna sue me, sweetheart?"

You open your mouth – and absolutely nothing comes out except an embarrassing, flustered squeak.

Enzo watches the two of you like he’s witnessing a car crash in slow motion.

"I swear to God," he mutters under his breath, rubbing his temples like he can already feel the headache brewing, "if you two idiots start dating, I’m moving to Alaska."

"I like Alaska," you comment brightly, before your brain catches up with your mouth.

Dante snorts, delighted.

"See? She’s got good taste. First me, now Alaska."

"That’s it. I’m getting the shotgun," Enzo grumbles, stomping toward the kitchen.

You and Dante just grin at each other like you're already plotting how to make everything worse.

“Dinner tonight, sweetheart?”

“I…I’d love to!”

[lanf1an]

DREAMS lando norris pt.7 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6

Next race weekend you walked on to the paddock unsuspectingly. But you couldn’t not notice multiple press taking your photo. Someone had shot a photo of you or your outfit before, but never this many.

You were barely five minutes into the paddock when the first question came—not for a quote, not about his suit or his styling, but about you.

“Excuse me—” A reporter stepped into your path, microphone in hand. “Can we get a quick comment?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I—uh, I don’t really—”

“You and Lando Norris seem close. Should fans be reading into that?”

Your stomach tightened. “I’m just here for work.”

“Come on,” the reporter pressed, a smirk playing on his lips. “No truth to the rumors? No secret romance?”

Before you could respond, a familiar hand landed on your lower back, a firm presence against you.

“That’s enough,” Lando’s voice cut in, smooth but commanding.

The reporter’s smirk faltered. “Just doing my job.”

“Then ask about racing,” Lando replied easily, guiding you past them with a subtle grip. He didn’t drop his hand until you were inside the McLaren hospitality, away from prying eyes.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “That was ridiculous.”

Lando leaned against the counter, watching you. “You okay?”

You nodded, even though your pulse was still racing. “I just—ugh. This is exactly what I didn’t want.” You really wanted to be professional, working at LV.

He studied you for a moment before sighing. “Just stay in hospitality for the rest of the day.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the look he gave you made it clear—he wasn’t asking.

“I’ll get them to back off,” he added, jaw clenched. “But just stay in here.”

So, you stayed.

Hours later, as you were going over some last-minute details, Max leaned against the counter beside you, an amused smirk on his face.

“You know why they’re all watching you noe, right?”

You glanced up. “Because reporters are vultures?”

Max chuckled.“Well, yeah. But also because Lando’s stopped screwing around.”

Your blinked. “What?”

Max shrugged. “Think about it. Lando’s always had random girls floating around, models, party girls, but for the past couple weeks? Nothing. Just you. They noticed.”

You stared at Max, throat suddenly dry.

He shrugged. “I just think it’s funny you haven’t noticed.”

-

That night after the race, you were at the club with the McLaren team, Lando and you had discussed a plan.

“You sure about this?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Positive,” you replied. “Let’s give them something else to talk about.”

The plan was simple: flirt with other people, redirect the media’s attention, kill the narrative before it got too real.

You spotted a Red Bull engineer leaning against the bar and made your way over, offering a bright smile and just the right amount of laughter. Lando, meanwhile, let himself get cornered by two models who clearly didn’t care about F1.

From across the club, your eyes met. And held.

His jaw tightened.

You quickly turned back, not wanting to see him with the girls, focusing on the guy in front of you, lightly touching his arm and whispering something in his ear. 

Ten minutes later, your phone buzzed.

Lando: Come outside. Now.

The moment you stepped outside, the cool air hit you—followed immediately by Lando.

“Bad idea, we’re going home” he said, voice low, shaking his head. 

You nodded, the car ride back to the hotel was tense. Silent.

Inside your room, he shut the door behind him with a soft click. You turned to say something—anything—but he was already crossing the space between you.

Lando pressed you against the wall, mouth crashing against yours, all frustration and tension and unspoken words. His hands roamed over your body, gripping, claiming, desperate.

“I hated that,” he breathed, kissing down your neck.

“You told me to flirt,” you whispered, tilting your head back.

“I didn’t think I’d hate it this much.”

Your hands were already tugging at his jacket, your voice breathless. “I didn’t think I would either.”

His voice was low in the dark. “Is this what it’s going to be like?”

You swallowed. “What?”

“The press. The attention.” His voice was softer now, more serious. “Flirting with other people just to prove a point.”

You hesitated. “I just… I don’t know how to handle all of this.”

Lando exhaled, pressing his forehead against yours. “Then let me handle it.”

—

Except, it was Louis Vuitton who handled it when she got called in a few days later.

The rumor buzz hadn’t died down.

If anything, it had only gotten louder since the club night. The media had latched onto her like hungry wolves, headlines speculating everything from secret relationships to "McLaren’s mystery girl." She avoided the comments, scrolled past the tagged photos, but they lingered like smoke.

You walked into the office. The room was cool and modern, sterile in that corporate-chic way, and your boss was already seated, tablet in hand. Another woman you vaguely recognized from PR was leaning against the wall, arms crossed casually.

“Take a seat,” she said said, not unkindly. “This won’t take long.”

You sat, knees tightly together, palms on your thighs. Trying not to look like you were bracing yourself.

“We’re moving you,” she said. “It’s a good thing.”

“Moving me where?”

“To the new Real Madrid partnership team. It’s a big rollout, very high profile. We need sharp people on it.” Her tone was firm but complimentary. “You’ve done good work. This is a step up.”

Your stomach fluttered. This should’ve been a dream. A high-profile campaign. A nod from the top. 

You nodded, forcing a small smile. “Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity.”

The woman from PR spoke then, casual, almost teasing. “Just, a word of advice, at Louis Vuitton we do not mix our personal interests with our clientele.” Her smirk didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’ve got real talent. Would be a shame.”

It was framed as a reward. And it was, in a way. But the subtext was loud and clear.

“We’ll loop you in with the Madrid team this week,” Marta said, already looking at her tablet again. “Exciting times.”

“Absolutely,” you murmured, already halfway out the door.

You didn’t let herself breathe until you were outside. 

You realized how lucky you were you got a promotion instead of being fired at your dream job, and you hated the fact you had almost messed it up.

—

WN: Im back???!!! I still have many chapters for this story in my drafts so i would like to finish it, so sorry for the long break!! Might even finish my other story or write one shots/shorter stories, requests welcome xx

tl: @freyathehuntress @linnygirl09 @sarx164 @joannaln4 @widow-cevans @444-leqz @laneyspaulding19 @mayax2o07@n3versatisfied @anayaverse @tvdtw4ever @honethatty12 @meyla123x @liz140569

[mandarinmoons]

I'll be here, always

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gender neutral reader Summary: Anxious thoughts taking control of your mind again, Spencer reminds you that he is always there to calm your worries Words: 1389 A/N: This is a bit scary to post cause this is something that I myself struggle with from time to time and if you yourself have these thoughts then know that you're not alone <3

You sighed quietly as you watched Spencer work away at his desk, his eyes quickly scanning details of the paperwork as he worked to try and solve it. It was as if he had glued himself onto the chair as soon as he got home, barely taking any breaks to eat, use the bathroom or speak a single word to you.

“Do you want something to eat?”

“No.”

You sighed as you watched Spencer flip away at his case files, his eyes not looking up from them to meet your eyes. You don’t think you could’ve met them anyways, but a part of you was begging for him to acknowledge your existence for just once during the day. It was eating you away and with your anxiety acting up more than usual, it was only a matter of time until you were reduced to nothing but tears.

Spencer was not the same after coming home from prison. His demeanor was colder, he kept more to himself and didn’t smile as often. He had expressed himself that he didn’t like what prison had done to him, he missed the way he once was and sometimes would stay up until dawn mourning the person he used to be.

“If you weren’t around I think I would go insane.”

Spencer had confided in you one late night that you were one of the few constants in his life. You had known him for years, ever since he first joined The BAU to when he got arrested. You had seen him at his best and his worst, you took him as he was, as he were, and you weren’t going to leave him over a hard chapter in his life, especially if it had changed him.

Sometimes it was easier said than done. Spencer wasn’t the only who had issues and you were honest with him with the thoughts that consumed your head at times, how they would manifest and why. They weren’t something you were proud of, in fact you would feel guilty over them later on when you managed to get a hold of them. It seemed to be an endless cycle at times and sometimes you wondered if you would ever get better. Spencer changed that though.

He assured you countless times whenever you needed it, he would hold you until you were no longer shaking and would see you smile again, he would do anything for you and it made you stick to him like glue. That wasn’t always a good thing though considering your issues.

With having an anxious attachment, sometimes your worries would arise if Spencer took too long to answer a text or call or if his mood seemed unusual for a longer period of time. You tried your best not to get into your head about it, rationalize with yourself that he’s either busy or tired and needs some time for himself and nine times out of ten things would go back to the way they were soon enough.

This time it was different though. The time spent in prison had altered Spencer permanently and although you knew his love for you hadn’t diminished one bit, if not grown stronger, the way he would express it was different than before and it would take some time to get used to.

“He doesn’t love you anymore, he’s just not able to say it.”

Those kinds of thoughts were plaguing your mind and with the way Spencer was behaving, it was hard to listen to your logical side to try and calm yourself. Everything felt so different and it was hard not to expect that things would fall apart eventually.

You were brought back to reality when you felt tears stream down your face, the emotions being too overbearing and let go when you weren’t noticing. You couldn’t let Spencer see you this way so you brushed them away, cleared your throat and looked towards your boyfriend as you tried your best to make sure your voice didn’t crack.

“I’m feeling a bit tired, I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

Spencer only nodded and went back to skimming through his papers, feeling your heart sink again at the lack of his acknowledgement.

Walking to bed and lying down on the covers, you couldn’t help but notice how with every day that passed the sheets seemed colder. Maybe it was because Spencer’s scent had diminished by each day, making the overall feeling less comforting and warm.

You couldn’t help but have tears pouring from your eyes. It was exhausting having to keep it in and you couldn’t bear to do it anymore. Usually you would be right on track to run into Spencer’s arms to have him help you feel more grounded, but with his behaviour being so cold lately, you didn’t want to risk it when he wasn’t in the best mood or maybe even be scolded by him. Has it happened before? No, but you were too scared of those thoughts becoming true one day and with his demeanor being the way it was right now, the chances of it happening seemed higher than ever before.

After some time of silently letting the tears out, feeling exhausted by all of the emotions, you eventually did fall asleep. At least with sleeping you knew you would feel more calm and collected later, but slowly the cycle would start again at some point and you would have to go through the process all over again, something you weren’t sure how long you would be able to keep up.

Sensing that something was wrong, Spencer made his way to the bedroom and stood at the door for a moment, taking in your sleeping figure. Your back was turned to the door and your knees pressed to your chest in a fetal position, your body's way of showing you need protection and comfort, something Spencer knew he had lacked recently.

Feeling his heart ache, he made his way to the bed, laid down next to you and gently wrapped his arms around you, causing you to stir and open your eyes.

With Spencer’s thumbs caressing your arms, another flood of tears escaped your eyes and as you tried to hold back a sob, Spencer was quick to turn you around and bury your head in his chest, making it impossible to not let out your cries.

“It’s okay sweetheart.”

With each loving touch it was harder and harder not to cry. The one thing you needed for so long had finally been given to you and you didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. You did need what Spencer was giving to you, but had it been something forced out of him?

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“That I’m not in control this.”

Spencer took your head into his hands as his eyes looked into yours, his thumbs brushing away the fallen tears and feeling his own eyes tear up seeing how red your eyes seemed. He hadn’t been there for you and it was eating him alive.

“Honey, listen to me. It is not your fault for feeling the way you do, it all leads back to the way you were raised as a child and you had no control over how your parents treated you. We all have our slip ups, but it does not mean that you’re not handling it well, because you are. It’s just a bump in the road and that does not mean you don’t have a handle on this or that it won’t get better. It does, you just have to believe in yourself.”

Not being able to get the words out, your lips pressed onto Spencer’s gently as a way of showing gratitude for his words. He always knew exactly what to say to help calm you and this time his words hit a bit deeper. It wasn’t your fault how you were treated but that didn’t mean that you weren’t worthy of love.

Your loud inner critic lost its power slowly as you and Spencer continued to hold each other and take in each other’s presence. Soon enough you both fell asleep while being in each other’s arms and slept soundly through the night, hearts beating in unison as well as smiles plastered on your tired faces.

You can find my masterlists here! Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[ghost-kings-court-jester]

Something I think people are sleeping on Hua Cheng and his shapeshifting. I’m re reading and it’s really clear to me that Hua Cheng (who yes has self esteem issues) also does his disguises for fun. Like one of the things we first hear about him in this:

“The name Hua Cheng was very obviously fake, and his appearance was most likely fake too. In the rumors, he was sometimes a twisted boy given to capricious mood changes, sometimes a gentle and mannered handsome young man, sometimes a gorgeous seductress with a venomous heart, anything goes!”

Then later he appears in one of these forms. Like if you read the scenes of Xie Lian checking his disguise he is both giggling and twirling his hair at how smart his Gege is and how good his disguise is. He enjoys looking like a young pretty boy master with boyish charm. He literally changes shape just to play with his clothes. He switches forms I think at least 10 times in the novels possibly more (I’m rereading so I can’t actually remember) but like he has fun with it.

Like yes he does have self esteem issues creating the disguises would definitely be a part of that, but far too often I’ve seen the idea floated around that that’s the only reason he changes forms. Or if he does change forms it’s for self consciousness and for strategic purposes and Xie Lian helps him get over that. Like it seems to me a lot of people think when Hualian get married he never wears one when he’s only around Xie Lian and I just don’t think that’s the case.

Like yeah he does mostly take his true form with Xie Lian but I think that’s mostly because they are getting to know each other and he’s probably tired of masks being between them.

Genuinely he never stops changing forms completely once the reveal of his true form has happened.

Even when he’s forced to be shaped like a child he chooses a full fancy baby outfit and styled hair. He plays with his outfits and hair styles frequently and you’re trying to tell me that man is going to live out most of his married life in just one body type. You think he’s going to completely ignore woman’s clothing because I don’t. A female form is mentioned and I know there’s no way he doesn’t have a thousand outfits for her as well.

And while yes I do love the gender fuckery of it for my own headcannons I can also see him putting on his disguises like drag or to put on a persona to act. I think he just likes playing around and switching shapes because like everything Hua Cheng does he doesn’t go in for half measures. He doesn’t seem like some effort into learning how to shapeshift so perfectly it confuses even XL just because he’s self conscious of his own looks. Like that doesn’t really fit his personality.

Basically what I’m trying to say is my guy is fashionista playing dress up with himself as his own Barbie doll. Let him have fun! Stop making him using his disguises as an obstacle he has to overcome. Not everything has to be that serious.

[hotchnerwrites]

Heyy!!! Oh my god i love your writings SO MUCH i am obsessed!! And i have a request 💘💘 can you do Hotch and girlfriend just moving in together after some times of dating and Hotch noticing issues with her eating habits, her putting on home workout videos at night after dinner out of nowhere etc etc? You can do however you like smut, fluff, angst whatever feels right. YOU'RE GREAT! LOVE YOU💋💋💋💋💘💘💘 CANT WAIT!

Not So Fancy

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: SFW, allusions to smut, mentions of disordered eating, hurt/comfort

A/N: hello hello!!! thank you so much for your kind words and your patience <333 really appreciate it. i hope you don't mind, i changed your request just a little bit to make it more of a oneshot rather than many events building up. if you'd still like me to write it as separate events, please feel free to shoot me another req! more than happy to do so. anyway, i really hope you like this and it's what you wanted. enjoy the read! mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open. Send me stuff! Please read the rules before asking, and be advised there is a slight wait time right now. But I will post for sure. :)

The air was still thick with the warmth of what you’d just shared. 

You lay with your head on Aaron’s chest, his arms wrapped around you. You could hear his heartbeat beating rhythmically. Steady. Reliable. 

His fingers traced gentle patterns against your skin, and you inhaled deeply, trying to match your breathing to his pulse. But even as you lay there, content for a moment, the familiar unease still tugged at your bones, hidden beneath the surface.

Aaron stirred then, breaking you out of your reverie. He stretched his arms above his head with a satisfied sigh, ensuring not to jostle you. “You hungry?” He asked, kissing the top of your head, “Wanna eat in bed? I’ll grab some snacks.”

A simple question. So why did the malaise keep spreading?

You’d been trying to avoid this. It’s not that you weren’t hungry, but the idea of food right now felt like too much. So you forced a smile and said, “No, I’m fine,” hoping he wouldn’t notice. You weren’t trying to be difficult, but you couldn’t help it. “Thank you, though,” you added, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. 

But Aaron noticed. He always did. The way your shoulders tensed and how you instinctively tried to curl inwards. He didn’t even need to profile you; he had always been able to read you like an open book.

“Are you sure?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice, though it was clear he was picking up on something more. “What about some chips, or maybe some chocolate? I’ve got those After-8 Mints you love…”

“No,” you cut him off a little too quickly, trying to make your voice sound as casual as possible. “I really just don’t wanna eat right now.”

His eyes were on you now, playfulness gone. You could feel him searching your gaze, trying to make sense of every micro-expression. You were already naked under the sheets, but this— this exposed you. Like a bloodied shard of glass laid bare for him to inspect. And you hated it.

"Hey," Aaron said softly, his tone muted, "Talk to me. What’s going on? You’ve barely eaten today."

You hesitated, trying to push away the knot in your stomach, but it only seemed to tighten with every word he spoke. You sat up slightly, arms wrapped tightly around your knees, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

“I’m fine, Aaron,” you said, this time with more firmness, though your voice still trembled ever so slightly. “Really. I’m just not hungry.”

Aaron's gaze softened for a moment, but there was something behind his eyes—a concern, a quiet worry. He knew you too well by now to let this slide. “What about something light, then? Maybe some fruit? Or just a little snack?” His voice stayed gentle, but there was no mistaking the way he was probing now, trying to find a way in.

“No, Aaron. I don’t want anything.” You sighed, growing more agitated, your patience beginning to wear thin. “I really just don’t wanna eat right now, okay?”

Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly as he leaned back on the bed, still watching you closely. “You’ve been saying that for the past few days. And every time, you get more and more distant. What's going on, really?"

You tried to brush it off, but it was starting to feel like a pressure cooker, the conversation simmering beneath the surface. The fact that Aaron wasn’t backing down only made you more defensive. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation was about to go in a direction you didn’t want it to.

“I told you, I’m fine,” you snapped a little too harshly, your shoulders stiffening. You tried to turn away from him, hoping he’d drop it. "I just don’t feel like eating right now."

But Aaron wasn’t about to let it go. His voice dropped a few degrees, and you could hear the frustration underneath the calm. “Okay, stop. I’ve seen what’s going on. You’re acting like this isn’t a big deal, but it is. You’ve barely touched any food, and I’ve noticed you sneaking in workouts late at night. You’re pushing yourself too hard, and I can’t just stand by and pretend like I don’t see it.”

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around yourself as if it would shield you from the tension growing between you two. You wanted to hide, to bury the feelings, but he was too sharp, too attentive. 

“I’m just trying to get healthy,” you said quickly, hoping it would be enough of an excuse to end the conversation. “I’m just making some changes, Aaron. That’s all.”

His eyes searched yours, a mixture of confusion and concern in his gaze. “Get healthy? You’re already healthy. You don’t need to starve yourself or overexert yourself to be that. What’s really going on?”

You hesitated for a moment, trying to formulate something that wouldn’t make you sound ridiculous. But the truth was, you didn’t know how to explain it without feeling vulnerable—without feeling exposed.

“I just... I don’t know,” you began, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “You’re a big, important man, Aaron. You’re a fancy guy, and I just feel like... I don’t know. I want to match up with you. To look the way you deserve. To be perfect, especially around your coworkers. You always have everything together, and I don’t want to be the one who looks out of place. I don’t want them to look at me like I’m... less than.”

He didn’t say anything after your little speech. He wasn’t even making eye contact. The silence stretched on. This was exactly why you hadn’t said a word. 

You stared down at your hands, your nails digging into your palms from how tightly you were clenching them. Humiliation prickled under your skin. You wished you could claw the words back into your mouth, pretend none of it had ever been said.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to withdraw the moment. “Forget it. I don’t know why I—”

“Stop.”

His voice wasn’t sharp. It was soft—firm in the way only Aaron Hotchner could be when he actually cared about something. It rooted you to the spot.

Finally, finally, he looked up at you. His brow was furrowed like he was thinking so hard it hurt. And then he said, very quietly, almost like he was forcing it out:

“You don’t need to look a certain way for me. Or for anyone. I love you just as you are—just you.”

You blinked at him.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he continued, the words sounding clumsy in his mouth, like he wasn’t used to letting them out. “I care about you. You could show up to a Bureau gala in pyjamas and I wouldn’t—”

He broke off, dragging a hand through his hair. His ears were slightly pink.

The ache in your chest tightened, loosened, tightened again.

“I’m… I’m just trying to get healthy,” you repeated— weakly, stupidly. Trying to hold on to the walls you’d built.

Aaron didn’t argue anymore. He simply reached over, gently touching your hand. “I don’t need you to be anything but who you are. Healthy doesn’t mean forcing yourself to be something you’re not, and it doesn’t mean changing to meet some idea of perfection. And honestly, I think you already look pretty perfect to me.”

There was a long silence between you, the tension beginning to dissolve. No grand gestures or big speeches—just him showing you he understood, and that you didn’t have to prove anything.

“You... you don’t think I’m embarrassing?” you asked, his words acting like a balm on your heart.

Hotch let out a breath that was almost — almost — a laugh. 

“No," he said. "I think you’re the only thing that feels easy anymore.”

The world tilted a little sideways. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re not so fancy either, Agent Hotchner,” you mumbled, leaning into the warmth of his embrace.

Thanks for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[izzih22]

this might be confusing/difficult but could you do a pazzi one based on the song Valerie by Amy winehouse 🫶🏼

Valerie

Note: this is kinda crap but hopefully it’s good…this was quite difficult ngl this is probably my worst fic🫠

Azzi was sprawled out on her bed in Virginia, her phone playing the familiar, jazzy notes of Amy Winehouse’s Valerie. The song always reminded her of Paige, like it was a secret between them, the kind of song that felt like it belonged to their private world.

She had missed Paige so much, it hurt. The distance between them was a challenge, but they made it work. Phone calls, text messages, even late-night video chats when they couldn’t sleep—it wasn’t the same as being in the same room, but it was enough.

Or at least, it was… until Paige showed up at her door.

The sound of a knock at the door startled Azzi. She pushed herself up from the bed, glancing toward the window, wondering if she was imagining things. But then she heard it again—faint, but clear.

The door opened just as she approached it, and there stood Paige, grinning like a fool, a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Paige?!” Azzi’s voice cracked with excitement as she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Paige in a hug that was probably too tight. She didn’t care. Paige was here, finally here.

Paige laughed, her arms immediately pulling Azzi closer. “Yeah, yeah. I know you missed me. I couldn’t wait, though. I had to come see you.”

Azzi couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled out of her. She pressed her face into Paige’s chest, feeling the warmth of her skin and the steadiness of her heartbeat. It was like the universe had righted itself in that moment. “I can’t believe you’re here,” Azzi whispered, pulling back just enough to look up at Paige’s face, her fingers still gripping the fabric of Paige’s hoodie. “I thought you were gonna show up tomorrow.”

Paige shrugged, that teasing smile still on her face. “I lied,” she said simply, giving Azzi a wink. “I couldn’t wait another minute.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I can see that. I didn’t even have time to properly clean my room.” She gestured around at the slightly messy room, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Paige being there.

Paige chuckled and stepped inside, dropping her bag onto the floor. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You look like you’ve been doing just fine without me.” She grinned, clearly teasing.

Azzi blushed and rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the smile spreading across her face. “I’ve been okay,” she said, but there was no hiding the truth. She had been counting the days. “But now that you’re here, I’m never letting go.”

Paige reached out to gently grab Azzi’s hand, pulling her toward the bed. “That’s the plan,” Paige said with a soft grin, and Azzi’s heart skipped.

They sat together on the bed, the song still playing softly in the background. “Why don’t you come over, Valerie?” Azzi hummed along, the words feeling different now. It wasn’t about longing anymore. It was about now. About being together, here and now.

“Did you miss me this much?” Paige asked, her voice playful, but there was something deeper in her eyes. Something Azzi couldn’t ignore. Something Azzi loved.

“More than you know,” Azzi replied without hesitation, her fingers still brushing against Paige’s, not ready to let go just yet. “You’ve been the only thing on my mind.”

Paige’s grin softened into something sweeter, more sincere. “I’m here now,” she said quietly, her thumb brushing over the back of Azzi’s hand. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Azzi laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re so cheesy, Bueckers.”

Paige leaned in, her lips brushing lightly against Azzi’s forehead. “I can’t help it if I’m so in love with you,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing, but there was no hiding the affection there.

Azzi felt herself melting at the words, the weight of them making her heart swell. She didn’t have to say anything in return. The truth was already there between them. They didn’t need grand gestures, just the small, quiet moments when it was just them.

A moment of silence passed before Azzi broke it, the playful glint in her eyes returning. “You know,” she said, leaning toward Paige, “you really shouldn’t have shown up like this.”

Paige frowned in confusion, and Azzi’s smile grew wider. “Why not?” she asked, half-laughing, half-curious.

Azzi’s grin was playful, a little mischievous. “Because now I’m never going to let you leave. You’re stuck with me.”

Paige’s eyes twinkled with laughter, her fingers tightening around Azzi’s. “Good. That’s exactly what I want.”

The song played on in the background, the lyrics still lingering in the air. “Valerie, why don’t you come over?” They didn’t need to ask. She was already here. Paige was home, and Azzi had never been more sure of anything in her life.

[neiptune]

inescapable

cw: 1.2k wc, female reader, nothing explicit but implied friends with benefits agreement, pillow talk, reader is trying sooo very hard to be nonchalant

“Can you stay?”, Shoyo looks at you through long, fluttering lashes. He looks beautiful like this, propped on one elbow, the moonlight faintly illuminating his features.

“Why?”, you deadpan.

Because there’s no actual reason for you to go. Because it’s late and he doesn’t entirely trust whatever cab has to drive you to the other side of the city. Because he likes you so much it’s making him a little insane.

“Because I want you to”.

“What about what I want?”.

He hesitates for a brief moment.

“You want to leave?”.

You sigh quietly and avoid his gaze, filled with sincere concern, to focus on the ceiling instead.

It makes your chest ache, the way Shoyo is so effortlessly honest about how he feels, what he wants. It’s been like this since day one: he was the first to admit he wanted to take you out, the first to voice how badly he wanted to kiss you, take you home, keep you there.

He’s still the one taking all the risks and you hate yourself for it. Especially because of how easily you give in, end up in his bed way too often for someone who is supposedly meant to keep her distance. The promise you made yourself is dangerously close to crumbling like a house of cards who didn’t stand a chance in the first place. Not in the inescapable hurricane that is Shoyo Hinata.

“You’re thinking too much again”, one finger lightly traces the bridge of your nose, the touch effectively pulling you away from your thoughts, “do you want to go?”.

This time, you decide to give him what he wants. Which, unfortunately, also happens to be what you want.

“No”, you say. Shoyo’s hand gently cradles your jaw, guides you to look at him instead of his ceiling.

“Good. Come closer, then”, something flashes in his eyes but you still feel like you don’t know him well enough to grasp every facet of him. The thought somehow produces both comfort and dread.

With a sigh that makes Shoyo bite back a smile, you comply and scoot closer, until you’re back in your designated place: his arms. He solidly wraps them around your frame and you hide your face in his shoulder, nose pressed to his neck. You’re wearing one of his shirts but he’s still naked and the warmth of his chest creeps into the fabric to then ooze under your skin, into your bones, like honey.

“I wish I was like you”, it’s barely a whisper but you know he hears it loud and clear in the stillness of his bedroom, “never afraid of anything”.

He chuckles.

“Is that what you think? That’s not me”.

“You just… make everything look so easy. You’re brave”.

“That’s not what it is. I just take risks, always have. Doesn’t mean I’m not afraid”.

You scoff.

“Okay. Tell me one thing that frightens you, then”.

Shoyo hums, seemingly lost in thought. That’s one thing you know: he never actually has to think too long about what he wants to share. It just comes naturally. The one thing he takes time to evaluate is whether sharing what’s on his mind is worth it or not.

“I’m afraid of scaring you off”.

You sigh heavily and he chuckles again, content with the advantage he has in a game you were never meant to win.

“See? That’s what I mean. You can just say stuff like that”.

“You can too, it’s really not that scary”.

“It’s only not scary if you’re you”.

Shoyo smiles, you hear it in his voice when he speaks again.

“Say something that scares you. Do it now. I’ll cover my ears if you want”.

You huff out half a laugh and pull back slightly to look at him.

“Really?”.

“Sure. If you don’t want me to hear it, I won’t listen. But it’ll prove how easy it actually is”.

You jokingly narrow your gaze when he props himself on one elbow again and presses his palms over his ears. Shoyo just offers a grin.

Head now resting on his pillow, you take a deep breath.

“I like you so much. Enough to wish you belonged to me and not to Brazil. Enough to keep you here forever, if I could”.

He blinks slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. Horrified, you grab his wrist to pull one of his hands down.

“You heard that!”.

“I absolutely didn’t-”

“Hinata!”.

“It’s not my fault the room is so quiet!”, he bursts into mirthful laughter when you groan into his pillow, mortified as you always get when the carefully crafted indifferent facade slips.

Shoyo doesn’t conceal the fondness in his gaze as he looks down at you, busy hiding your face in your hands.

“Can I say something too?”.

“No”.

“Not even if it’s scary and vulnerable and makes me a horrible person?”.

You peer up at him from in between your fingers.

“Fine. But it better make you absolutely execrable”.

A glimpse of his familiar smile is all you can catch before Shoyo wraps himself around you once more, only this time he’s resting his entire weight on you. You let out a playful oof as you hug him, a body that is all corded muscle, hard thighs and broad shoulders effectively sinking you further into the mattress. You can feel the swell of his biceps as he tightens his hold around your middle, soft wisps of unruly hair tickling your chin as Shoyo makes himself comfortable.

“I wish I could take you with me. I wish you belonged to me more than to your hometown, your job, your friends, maybe even your family. That’s how much I like you. That’s how much of a terrible person I am”.

A quiet laugh shakes you as one of your hands gently strokes his back.

“You couldn’t be a terrible person if you tried”.

“I mean it”.

“Good thing I’m here to do the right thing, then”.

“What’s the right thing?”.

“Accepting how selfish I can be and still not acting on it. Thinking about what’s best for you”.

Shoyo hums.

“I can decide what’s best for me. You know, as an adult”.

“Sure. And I hope you’ll soon find it”.

He tilts his head up, enough to press his lips to your jaw.

“I can belong to you and my career. I wouldn’t just drop everything and give up on my dream because of you. You don’t make me wish I didn’t have to leave, you just make me wish you trusted me, this, enough to try. To wait for me when I get back and have me wait for you when you come to me”.

Truth is, he wants to belong to you far more than he wants you to belong to him. He wishes to know you want him just as much, that the mere thought of him being with other people eats away at your sanity each time your brain conjures it. 

You shut your eyes when you feel tears pricking at the back of them.

“Was saying all that scary?”, Shoyo hears the way your voice trembles and nuzzles further into the crook of your neck.

“Yeah”, he whispers.

“Couldn’t be scarier than admitting I’m falling in love with you”.

He stills, a marble statue pliant under your touch. And then, slowly, Shoyo lifts himself up enough to meet your gaze. There’s something so tender about the way he’s looking at you, it makes you feel far more vulnerable than the times when his eyes are filled with lust or passion. It feels different. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been.

“See? You’re getting really good at this”, he murmurs. It eases the ice cold tension clutching your chest, makes you able to offer a smile.

“I still think this isn’t entirely wise”.

“That’s fine”, Shoyo intentionally brushes his nose against yours before leaning further down, “I’ve always been great at turning predictions around”.

[hollyoongs]

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 𝗝𝗔𝗬's 𝗩𝗘𝗥 !

prólogo Patience. A virtue that Jay knew very well, used a lot when treating members or as when he expected an online purchase, he had it very controlled. Although you knew exactly how to make that virtue go to zero. [MASTERLIST]

elenco park jongseong x f!reader

género smut with plot

antes de leer brat!reader, brat tammer!jay, mean dom!jay, edging, use of sexual toy (vibrator), bondage (jay ties reader wrists), alcohol consumption, alcohol play (briefly by Jay), unprotected sex (are we surprised atp), orgasm denial, edging, rough sex, breeding, pet names (slut, brat, baby), degradation, let me know if i missed anything.

# palabras + 4k

You have lost count of how many warning looks Jay has given you in the last five minutes.

After finishing their last Coachella performance, all the members felt light knowing how they gave their all, no remorse, and checked that stage off their bucket lists. Being backstage with his dad beside you was a whole new experience, even more so when you two found yourselves tearing up, not being able to contain the pride.

You stayed for a while, congratulating the members left and right, and he didn't make you leave his side, nor your lips, not caring at all about the teasing comments made by his members—you could only laugh between kisses, your cheeks burning with happiness rather than embarrassment. The members started doing their own thing.

"Are you going to stay to see the rest of the shows?" You said, kissing the tip of his nose, an action that made him scrunch it.

"No, I’m actually going to the hotel room. They want me to make a Weverse live for my birthday." After he said that, you smiled. "Why?"

“Because I’m also leaving for the hotel. Your dad insists on taking me to the hotel safely.” He rolled his eyes before looking at his dad, who was more occupied taking pictures of the achievements of his son.

“Good thing we are staying in the same hotel.” You smiled at his words before giving him a peck.

“See you later, baby. Bye, guys!” The last part you screamed at, catching their attention as you waved dramatically with both hands, prompted a chorus of cheers and a few exaggerated whistles from the members.

You walked away backwards, still smiling, still waving, and caught one last look at him: tired but glowing, shoulders relaxed after all the performance.

The ride to the hotel was quiet and calm; it was a comfortable silence. His dad made some light conversation, but you could tell he was just as emotionally spent. When you got to the lobby, he handed you your room key, gave you a sincere pat on the back, and gave you a knowing smile.

Back in your room, the first thing you did was to open your bag. The first thing that catches your eye is exactly what you were looking for, a black plastic bag that contained your very first lingerie, something that you bought a few weeks ago for this day. You neatly put the pieces on top of your bed, and your eyes widen a little bit when you see the lack of coverage. Sure, lingerie was supposed to do that.

The pieces themselves were beautiful; the black color with delicate lace was eye-catching, but it was bold itself—and definitely bolder than anything you’d ever worn before. You ran your fingers over the soft fabric, the intricate patterns of the lace. The bra had thin straps and a dainty bow in the center, while the bottoms were barely there, cut high and trimmed with the same lace. Your heart pounded just a little harder now.

You entered the shower, this time, your routine even more elaborate than usual. Shampoo, conditioner, hair gloss, bar soap, body scrub—you used everything because tonight felt like it deserved more. The steam wrapped around you like a gentle hug, and you took your time, the intention clear as the day, to feel like your best self for him and you. The fact that you were doing this out of love and confidence, not obligation, crashed you, bringing a smile to your face.

By the time you stepped out, the mirror was completely fogged. You wiped a small circle and caught your reflection—flushed and glistening. You wrapped yourself in a towel and padded back into the bedroom, where the lingerie still waited patiently on the bed.

Getting dressed felt like stepping into another version of yourself—one that was still you, just sexier. Hair and makeup were done many songs later, you stood again to go to the bathroom to grab the body lotion, unconsciously checking yourself out.

“Fuck, I look hot,” you admit to your reflection, and even though it made you giggle, the words felt good—true. You noticed the way the lace hugged your curves, the bold contrast against your skin, and, of course, the minimal changes to your makeup that made the look complete.

You dabbed on your favorite perfume—ears, thighs, every key point of your body that you knew he loved to kiss. The scent mingled with the soft air of the hotel room, mixing with the scent of the apple cinnamon candles you lit up. Walking back to your back, you took out the outfit of the night, the same outfit as your first date: a black leather mini skirt with your loose white cropped button-up, his oversized leather jacket of the same color that you stole, and your boots.

You dressed up easily, satisfied with the overall result after not seeing the lingerie peeking. The gloss you accidentally brought to the bathroom was now useful as you gave your lips another coat of it. You speed up, blowing off all the candles to pick up your phone. Jay has been live for almost fifteen minutes, even sending you a message that he would be alone doing that live way before he started it. Oh, you truly took your sweet time.

With the room key card in hand, you rushed to the elevator. The elevator dinged softly as you reached Jay’s floor, stepping out quietly while keeping your head low. The hallway was empty, and you padded toward his door with the same knock you used every time you visited him under the radar.

“Oh, wait. It’s probably a staff member.” You could hear the chair being moved, and soon the door opened. He looked at you completely wide-eyed, mouth agape, as his eyes scanned you. “Wow… you look, wow.”

“Came a little early, hope you don’t mind.” You said low enough so only he can be the only one hearing, and his hand travels to yours to make you do a small turn on the same spot, seeing a smile on his face.

“Is this the outfit that I think it is?” You smiled in affirmation, and he happily nodded. “Wait for me for five minutes; I’m still answering questions right now.” You softly pecked his lips before moving away, easily making your way to the sofa in his room thanks to the wide distance that helped you pass without touching the camera.

The space where he was streaming was decorated with a shiny blue metallic tinsel curtain, silver ‘Happy Birthday’ balloons with other ones, and on top of the table a cake shaped like a guitar. “Sorry, the staff came to check on everything.”

He went back to answer questions in both English and Korean; his voice for you was magnetic. How he always found the words so easily and expressed himself with such grace was the first thing that attracted you to him. He looked so relaxed, phone in his hand as he comfortably manspread on the chair.

You sat quietly on the couch, legs crossed, hands neatly intertwined over your skirt to behave as patiently as possible. Five minutes turned into fifteen, and you found yourself growing a little desperate; the idea that was creating in your head was risky, way too risky. You took your jacket off and later your shoes. After neatly folding the jacket, you stood up, walking right behind the camera so that Jay could have a look at you.

His eyes went directly to yours for a quick moment before looking at the camera again, your fingers going directly to the buttons of your shirt to reveal the top part of the lingerie. Jay's eyes went back to you in an instant; his face was using every muscle of it to not make a face, but his eyes couldn't leave alone your nipples that were visible on that lingerie and the way the lace curved perfectly over your chest.

You watched him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, his hand subtly tightening around the phone as he answered another comment, his voice wavering while responding with something generic about his favorite birthday memory. He couldn’t fool you; his eyes focused on the lens, but they kept darting back to you. He was being too patient.

You could tell you were playing with his patience as you kept going, fingers now working slowly on the zipper of your skirt and carefully taking it off your body, bare legs revealed, and so your thong. The entire image of you made his ears turn pink. He shifted in his seat before sighing.

“Hold on, let me take this cake off. I promise I will eat this later." He took the cake and quickly moved to you, leaving the cake on another table in the hotel room. “Can you please behave?”

“No, and you know how excited I get when I give you a present.” You covered your index finger with a little of the whipped cream from the cake, licking it as you locked eyes with him; his jaw got tense, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I will finish in a couple of minutes. Cut it,” he said, before leaving you to go back to sit and focus on the last few minutes of the stream. You smiled innocently, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. He sat back down, and before you did on the couch, you went to grab the wine bottle. You felt his gaze on your ass as you carefully poured the liquid into a glass. When you sat on the couch, you purposely let your legs fall open just enough to let him see the string that barely covered your entrance.

The moment you decided to look back at him, your free hand had a mind of its own, slowly making its way to your entrance. The route that your fingers were taking, so did Jay’s eyes, after going back to the phone.

You tapped a little before concentrating your index and middle fingers on your clit, causing a delicious friction that caused you to softly bite your lower lip, covering the whimper that was threatening to escape from your mouth. Jay didn’t look at you again after that. Not even once. He kept his gaze firmly on his phone, answering the last few comments, bowing politely, and thanking fans for their birthday wishes in that gentle tone of his.

You kept your movements slow through the lace, head falling back against your couch with your eyes fluttering, but you made sure he got the full view of just how much you were enjoying yourself, preparing for him.

“I’ll see you in our next album… Uh, what was it?” Jay’s voice stumbled slightly when he was finally saying his last words, the smallest stumble in his normally flawless tone—and it made you feel like you won.

You pressed a little harder, hips subtly lifting from the couch, the friction driving you mad as much as you knew it was driving him mad. His eyes were moving quickly as he was trying to remember and not to look at you. “Desire: Unleash. I’ll see you there. Thank you.”

You didn’t even hear how he stood up to end the stream, only hearing how rushed it was, footsteps loud enough to make you know he was coming. You barely had time to breathe before Jay was standing over you, grabbing the wine glass from your hand and setting it down with a sharp clink on the side table. His hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, pulling it away from your core, your wetness glistening on your fingertips.

"Such a fucking brat," he muttered under his breath.

You smirked up at him, truly enjoying the moment. "You were taking too long. I had to entertain myself. I even prepared myself, see?"

You took his hand as you guided him inside the throng, letting him feel just how soaked you were. His fingers slipped easily against your folds, the lace doing little to hide the heat of your skin. Jay's breath stopped for a second—just for a second—before he yanked his hand back with a low growl.

There was no humor in the way he dragged you up from the couch and into his chest, holding your wrists behind your back with one hand. You gasped at the sudden loss of freedom, knowing how you fucked it up, but it will be worth it.

"You think you can touch what's mine without permission?" He said lowly against your ear, his lips brushing your skin and making you shiver. "You think you can act like a little slut in front of me and not expect consequences?"

Your knees nearly buckled at his words, but he suddenly threw you to the bed. There were a few presents in the room, and he undid the bow of one gift, coming back to you to tie it around your wrist to the headboard of the bed. “Since you can’t behave, you don’t get to touch anything unless I say so.”

Your head got tilted up by him, his eyes showing dominance as he scanned the lingerie, your legs closed. “What are you wearing?”

“Your birthday present, wanted to try something new,” you said in a sweet tone, even batting your lashes —causing Jay to smirk. His fingertips traced the bow at your wrists with an almost featherlight touch.

“You always think you can get away with anything just because you look cute.” You tried shifting your legs, but he caught the movement instantly, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart so you could be completely exposed to him. “And this is supposed to be my birthday present?”

He stood up to grab the glass of wine you left forgotten and soon came back. He drank a little himself, and you could see his Adam's apple going up and down, savoring the alcohol.

“You were touching yourself without my permission.” He looked at the amount he left on the glass, bringing it closer to your chest and pouring a little on top of your breasts, his tongue touching your skin as it went up to your neck. You moaned at the feeling, unconsciously turning your head to the opposite side he was going for.

His lips grazed your ear, biting it lightly. “You think that’s allowed, baby?”

You shook your head, more focused on trying not to think about the fire between your thighs that was turning unbearable. “No… but it felt so good,” you whined, tugging the restraint instinctively, the need to touch him increasing.

“And you are still being a brat.” With his free hand, he tore the thong down your legs, the fabric snapping against your skin before it hit the floor; the sudden roughness made your eyes wide. The glass was forgotten once again on the table next to his bed, soon positioning himself between your trembling thighs.

“You want to be good for me now, baby?” He asked, kissing on top of your knee, slowly working his way up your thigh.

“Y-yes,”

“Too late,” Jay smirked, his hands now on your hip to hold you down. “Brats get punished.” Before you could beg, his mouth was on you — everywhere but where you needed him the most. From his thighs to even the curve of your belly, he delivered kisses and even little nips. You whimpered, tugging uselessly at the ribbon.

“Jay, please…” you moaned as he sucked a spot on the back of your ear. His hand grabbed your face, and his lips were on yours. You were surprised by how he sucked your tongue, the new sensation stimulating enough to make you moan into his mouth; your head was already fuzzy.

His touch left your body again to look for his bag, moving around until he found something; your mouth opened a little when you focused your whole attention on it. “I bought this to use after Coachella since I remembered how badly you wanted one.”

He left the small vibrator on the table to take off all his clothes, right in front of you, chuckling a little as you got yourself loose in his body, “But I will ask you, can I use it on you?”

“Yes, love. Y-you can; you earned it.” A satisfied smile appeared on his face; he grabbed his phone to connect it and then placed it right on top of your aching clit. The chair that he used to sit in minutes before was dragged to be in front of the bed, right where you were. He sat there, his right hand grabbing his cock while the left one was holding his phone.

Jay leaned back lazily, stroking himself at a very slow pace at the view of you. The sudden movement of the vibrator made your whole body jolt, making you gasp as your hips bucked against the buzz. The noises you made were music to Jay’s ears.

“You’re such a view, baby. All tied up, dripping just from a little toy, and my cock in your line of sight.” Your body heated even more, bothered by the fact of how good he was making you feel even without doing anything. “Not so cocky now, baby?”

You licked your lips when you saw how his thumb was running over the head of his cock, spreading the precum that was already leaking there; your answer was a broken moan, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

Jay tilted his head at you, and you wanted to assume it was almost sympathetic. "You’re close already, aren't you?" he said, smirking when he saw the way your body shivered in a desperate attempt to hold yourself back. "Poor thing. Haven't even touched you properly yet."

You nodded frantically; your body was screaming for him. He leaned forward slightly, teasing himself with long, quite lazy strokes while his thumb on his phone hovered over the intensity levels of the vibrator.

"Here’s the deal, baby," he murmured. "You're not allowed to cum until I say so. You even think about cumming without permission, and I'll leave you tied up and begging all night. Understood?"

"Y-yes,"

"Good girl." The praise nearly shattered you, but not as much as the vibrator that turned up a notch.

“Fuck, Jay!” You sobbed his name, feeling your body jerk with the sudden spike in pleasure. He watched you like it was the best show he’d ever seen; his hand also sped up into stroking his cock.

"You look so fucking pretty when you're desperate," Jay growled. "Bet your pussy's clenching around nothing, huh? So empty, so needy for me…"

“Yes, baby.” You whimpered, rolling your hips in tiny circles against the vibrator without thinking, chasing the high that was building far too fast.

Jay caught that instantly. "Ah, ah," he said sharply, turning the toy off completely.

You cried out in frustration, shaking your head. "No, no, please, Jay, please—"

"You're not listening," he tsked, standing up from the chair and towering over you. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, so close, yet so out of reach. "Bad girls don't get to cum."

The tears that welled up in your eyes were actually threatening to fall from how devastatingly good he made you feel even when he was denying you everything. He knelt on the bed, one hand gripping your chin roughly to make you look him dead in the eyes.

"You’re going to learn," he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours for a second, "that your pussy belongs to me and my cock is yours, baby."

His lips went to yours again, a sharp slap on your pussy that caused you to let out a gasp against his lips. "And you’ll cum when I tell you to," he said, biting your bottom lip hard enough to make you moan before pulling back.

Without another word, he turned the vibrator back on, pressing it harder against your swollen, throbbing clit, immediately throwing you back into a writhing mess. He teased you completely — turning it up, then down, removing it altogether just when you felt yourself start to tip over the edge, smirking every time you sobbed in frustration, your consistent hip movements making the bed move.

"I could do this all night," he said, dragging the vibrator slowly up and down your folds, teasing your entrance before bringing it back to your clit. "Until you're crying and begging properly."

"Please," you gasped out, voice shaking, tears finally slipping down your temples. "I'll be good, Jay, I swear, just—"

"That's it," he said, finally satisfied. "That's the voice I wanted." Jay climbed fully onto the bed now, lining himself up between your trembling thighs. He turned off the vibrator, tossing it aside, and you cried out again at the loss, only for him to grip the base of his cock and rub the head along your dripping entrance, a relieved gasp leaving your mouth.

"You want this?" he asked, his voice wrecked with restraint.

"Yes," you sobbed. "God, yes, Jay. I need you so bad." Without warning, he slammed into you in one hard, perfect thrust. Your scream echoed off the walls, and you were sorry for the member next door. He didn’t give you time to adjust, starting to pound into you mercilessly, hands gripping your legs to be up so tight you knew there would be bruises later. His cock stretched you perfectly, every thrust hitting so deep you saw stars behind your eyes.

"You're mine," he growled into your ear. "Say it."

"Yours, yours, only yours," you babbled, delirious with pleasure, mindless under the feeling of him finally fucking you the way you needed. His right hand went to the ribbon, untying it fast just to have you grab your own legs, his hands now on the headboard as he increased his speed. “I love you, Jay.”

“I love you more, baby. Fuck, this pussy feels like heaven.” You two were a vocal mess, so consumed by the pleasure that you were not caring about anything. “Wrap your legs around me.”

You did as he said; he pushed you up a little so you two were face-to-face, his pace never slowed down, and despite you trying to actually look at his eyes, the orgasm you had to hold was ready to snap.

“Shit, Jay, let me cum, please.” Your walls were squeezing him, his cock twitching inside you as he tried so hard to hold himself back just a little longer, but you felt so good he would do it at the same time as you.

"Cum for me," he finally ordered with his forehead pressed to yours, the same desperation you had plastered on his tone. “Let go, baby. Give it to me.”

You came so hard it was blinding, your body locking up, squeezing his cock so tightly he cursed loudly, fucking you through it, not slowing down for a second. A few messy and frantic strokes were enough to bury himself deep as his hot and overwhelming release stayed inside you.

Jay kissed you as you broke apart underneath him, his hands everywhere soothing you. “You did so good for me.” Soft kisses were now delivered over your jaw and cheeks. “So fucking perfect for me.”

He pulled out as carefully as he could, laying you back down, and he did the same right next to you, pulling you into his chest immediately, his arms wrapping tightly around you. You nuzzled into him; your body was completely spent, and your heart was pounding against your ribs.

You tilted your chin up, gazing up to meet his eyes, the same eyes he always puts on when he sees you, or how he likes to say, ‘the look of love.’

“Happy birthday and wrap of Coachella,” you said against his lips. Your throat was hurting, although that was not your concern at the moment. He laughed a little at the sudden sentence.

“Best birthday ever… Sorry if I was too rough, baby.”

“I loved it; I would do that again.”

TAGLIST (OPEN): @heesexual74 @vixialuvs @riqomi @beomgyus11 @starry-eyed-bimbo @rawrrxan @veilstqr @k1ttyjwon @fancypeacepersona @kittympirty (COMMENT TO BE ADDED)

─── JAYCHELLA! posted right on time (11: 15) i think this one is the longest of all this serie, i decided to not only do jaychella but also join his birthday with it, two in one you can say. see you tomorrow with jake's!