#and my hair got back to the spot where i could colour it again without as much issue

[faunandfloraas]

No but actually coming from someone with fine wavy/curly hair who had some hair loss and lots of issue I really and truly wish I could sit down and talk with Chan because he really needs someone who understands curly hair to get him some products and show him what to do and he also needs to stop using heat. Like no straightening. No hair drying. Or at least very sparsely.

[societyfolklore]

Merry Christmas, I Miss You

Title:  Merry Christmas, I Miss You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Female Reader

Summary: After overhearing a conversation at a Christmas party, Bucky realizes that you may miss him as much as he misses you. Determined to bridge the distance, he makes the first move to reconnect during the holidays, risking vulnerability to say the words he’s been holding back: Merry Christmas, I miss you.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings:  //Warnings // Explicit Content //18+, Minors DNI, smut, Angsty, Petsname, Unprotected sex,  No Beta reading…

A/N:  Alex Crichton – 'Merry Christmas, I miss you' was the inspo for this.. damn song has been living in my head!

The compound was alive with holiday cheer, every surface glittering with Tony’s trademark flair for the extravagant. Twinkling lights wrapped around beams, garlands of evergreen adorned the walls, and a grand Christmas tree stood at the center of the room, its branches heavy with ornaments that seemed far too expensive for their own good. The scent of mulled cider and freshly baked cookies filled the air, mingling with the distant hum of holiday classics playing over the speakers.

It was everything a holiday gathering should be, filled with warmth and laughter, but for Bucky Barnes, it felt like he was standing outside of it all. He leaned against a corner wall, arms crossed over his chest, his lukewarm drink forgotten in his hand. His steel-blue eyes scanned the room, taking in the sight of his teammates laughing, mingling, and for once, letting their guards down.

He tried to let the festive energy seep into him, to shake off the weight that had been pressing on him for weeks now. But no matter how hard he tried, he felt miles away. Like he was a ghost in the room, watching everyone else enjoy a life he wasn’t sure he belonged in anymore.

It wasn’t just the usual holiday blues-no, this emptiness had a name. Yours.

Bucky sighed, his gaze drifting to the corner of the room where you’d stood last year. He could still picture you as if it had happened yesterday. You’d walked in late, the chill of the winter air clinging to you as you shrugged off your coat. Your cheeks had been flushed red from the cold, your smile sheepish as you muttered something about how much you hated New York winters.

He remembered how you’d lit up the room without even trying. Your laughter, your warmth, the way you managed to draw people in without a second thought. You’d been the brightest part of the party back then, and now your absence was like a gaping void, one he couldn’t ignore no matter how hard he tried.

He’d told himself he wouldn’t think about you tonight. That he’d keep his distance, let you enjoy the evening without the weight of his presence lingering in the background. But that had been a lie from the start. Every corner of the compound reminded him of you, of the way you’d made him feel less like the broken man he believed himself to be.

From his spot near the doorway, Bucky’s sharp gaze caught a flash of red on the balcony. Natasha. She was standing outside, her crimson hair catching the soft glow of the string lights wrapped around the railing.

And then he saw you.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest as you came into view, standing beside Nat. He hadn’t even realized you’d arrived. You were bundled in a soft sweater, the colour rich and vibrant against your skin, your hair catching the faint glow of the lights. From a distance, you looked as radiant as ever, but as he watched you, he noticed something different.

There was a sadness in your posture that hadn’t been there before. The way your shoulders slumped slightly, the faint shadow in your eyes, even as you laughed softly at something Natasha said. It was as if you were carrying a weight you didn’t know how to set down, and it made Bucky’s chest tighten all over again.

He should’ve turned away, should’ve given you the space you deserved. But curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself inching closer to the balcony, staying just out of sight as your voices drifted toward him.

“I don’t know, Nat,” you said, your voice soft but tinged with a melancholy that struck Bucky like a blow. “The city just feels too heavy this time of year. Everywhere I go, it’s like I’m walking through ghosts.”

Natasha’s reply was quieter, harder for him to catch. She placed a gentle hand on your arm, her expression unreadable as she listened.

“Maybe I need to get away,” you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just for a little while. A beach somewhere, maybe. I don’t know. It’s easier to forget when I’m not here.”

Bucky’s grip on his glass tightened, the faint sound of creaking metal snapping him out of his trance. You were leaving?

The idea of you slipping further out of his life sent a wave of panic crashing over him. He’d spent months convincing himself that letting you go was the right thing to do. That you deserved someone better, someone less damaged, someone whole. But now, hearing those words, he couldn’t help but wonder-had he made a mistake?

The thought hit him harder than he expected, knocking the air from his lungs. He turned away before you could spot him, retreating back into the warmth of the party. But even as he moved, the tightness in his chest didn’t fade.

Bucky leaned against the nearest wall, his head dropping as he fought to steady his breathing. The echo of your words replayed in his mind, louder and louder with each passing second.

He’d let you go, convinced it was the right thing. But what if it wasn’t? What if letting you go had been the biggest mistake of his life?

The noise of the party faded into the background, the laughter and music a distant hum as he stared blankly ahead. For the first time in a long time, he felt the stirrings of something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years: hope.

If you were still here, still lingering on the edges of his world, maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe he could fix this. Maybe he could find the courage to reach out.

But as he stood there, chest tight with regret and longing, one thought kept echoing in his mind, louder than the rest.

He didn’t want you to go.

*~*

That night, Bucky lay awake in his dimly lit apartment, the weight of your words pressing heavily on his chest. The room was silent save for the faint hum of the heater in the corner, its effort to fight off the biting chill doing little to ease the ache within him. The phone on his bedside table seemed to mock him, its dark screen reflecting his indecision.

He had your number. He could call you. The thought sent a jolt of nervous energy through him, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He imagined your voice on the other end, soft and familiar, the sound of it enough to pull him back from the edge of the spiral he’d been in for months.

But what if you didn’t want to hear from him? What if he’d already done too much damage, created a chasm between you that couldn’t be bridged? The fear of rejection kept his hand frozen, hovering over the phone but unable to bring himself to pick it up.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his metal fingers brushing against his temple as he let out a shaky breath. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, each second passing with the same relentless rhythm as his thoughts. He replayed your voice in his head-the sadness that lingered in your words, the wistful tone that had nearly undone him when you spoke of leaving.

What if this was his last chance?

When the clock struck midnight, something in him snapped. His hand shot out, grabbing the phone before he could second-guess himself again. The screen lit up as he dialled your number, his heart hammering with every ring.

One ring. Two.

He almost ended the call, the weight of his doubt clawing at him. But then-

“Hello?”

Your voice was soft, hesitant, and so achingly familiar that it felt like a lifeline. The knot in his chest loosened slightly, though the words he wanted to say lodged themselves in his throat.

“It’s me,” he managed, his voice rough and unsteady. “Bucky.”

A pause stretched between you, the silence both heavy and fragile. “Bucky… hey, Is everything okay?”

He closed his eyes, the sound of your voice stirring something deep within him. “Yeah,” he said, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I’m fine. I just… I overheard you at the party. About leaving.”

“Oh.” Your voice was quieter now, and he imagined the way your brow might furrow as you processed his words. “I didn’t realize you were there.”

“I was,” he admitted, his fingers gripping the edge of the blanket as if grounding himself. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but… I heard enough.”

There was another pause, longer this time, and he could almost hear the gears turning in your mind.

“Why does it matter to you?” you asked softly, your tone cautious, as though bracing for his response.

Bucky swallowed hard, his throat dry as he tried to find the right words. “Because I don’t want you to go Doll,” he said, the vulnerability in his voice surprising even to him.

His admission hung in the air like a fragile thread, and he waited, his pulse thundering in his ears.

“Why not?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, the fear of baring himself completely nearly stopping him. But the memory of your laughter, the light you’d brought into his life, pushed him forward.

“Because I miss you Dol,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn’t. I know I messed things up, but I miss you. And I thought… maybe… maybe you miss me too.”

Your breath hitched on the other end of the line, the sound so soft he almost missed it. The silence extended, and he wondered if you were even still there.

“Doll?”

“I do,” you whispered after a moment, the words cracking slightly. “I miss you too.”

Relief flooded him, leaving him momentarily speechless. He pressed the phone tighter to his ear, needing the connection, even if it was only through a device. His metal hand running through his hair.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said after a moment, his voice trembling. “Letting you go. I thought you’d be better off without me, that I’d just mess things up more if I stayed.”

“Bucky…” Your voice was thick with emotion, and he imagined the way your lips might tremble, the way you’d fight back tears even as your heart softened.

“But I was wrong,” he continued, his voice firming with the weight of his conviction. “I was so wrong. Losing you-letting you walk away-was the worst mistake I could make. If there’s chance I can fix that,  fix us, I wanna do that it take to try.”

Silence stretched again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was charged, filled with the echoes of words unsaid and the fragile hope blooming between you.

“I don’t know what to say,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling.

“Just say you’ll give me a chance Doll,” he said, his tone quiet but resolute. “One more chance to make things right.”

Your breath hitched again, and he waited, hiSSs heart hanging on the edge of your response.

“Okay,” you said softly, the word like a balm to his frayed nerves. “Okay, Bucky.”

His lips curved into the faintest smile, the weight in his chest lifting for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Thank you,” he murmured, the words carrying all the emotion he couldn’t yet express.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you replied, a hint of humour lacing your voice. “You’ve got a lot to make up for.”

“I know,” he said, his tone filled with quiet determination. “And I will. I promise sweetheart.”

As the call ended, Bucky set the phone down with a steadiness he hadn’t felt in months. For the first time, hope flickered in the dark corners of his heart, and he clung to it with everything he had.

*~*~*~*

The next day, Bucky woke with a rare sense of determination. If there was even a sliver of hope to rebuild what he’d lost with you, he wasn’t going to waste it. His mind replayed the sound of your voice from the night before-soft, hesitant, but filled with the same longing that had kept him awake for months. It was enough to spur him into action.

Inspired by your love for grand gestures, he decided to do something bold, something undeniably him, and undeniably you. His plan? Turn his small, unassuming house into a beacon of Christmas cheer, a declaration of hope, vulnerability, and just a little bit of chaos.

The execution, however, proved to be more challenging than he’d anticipated.

For hours, Bucky wrestled with tangled strings of lights that seemed to fight back at every turn. He balanced precariously on ladders, muttering curses under his breath as the icy wind nipped at his fingers. Halfway through, he managed to drop an entire box of ornaments, glitter exploding across the room like a small festive bomb.

By the time he finished, he was sweaty, exhausted, and sparkling faintly from head to toe. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, his breath puffing in the cold evening air as he surveyed the glowing masterpiece.

The house was dazzling- perhaps a bit too dazzling. Twinkling lights wrapped around every beam, eaves lined with a cascade of shimmering icicle bulbs, and the walkway lit by glowing candy canes. It was extravagant, chaotic, and just a little ridiculous. But it was perfect.

To Bucky, it felt like more than just a holiday display. It was a reflection of everything he wanted to tell you but hadn’t found the words for yet. It was an invitation, a promise, and a plea all wrapped in one.

He pulled out his phone and dialled your number before he could second-guess himself.

“Come over,” he said simply when you picked up. “Please Doll, I want to show you something.”

You hesitated, and his heart stuttered. But then you sighed softly. “Okay, Bucky. I’ll be there soon.”

*~*~*~*

When you arrived, the sight stole the breath from your lungs.

Bucky’s house glowed like something out of a holiday dream, every inch covered in twinkling lights that danced against the snowy backdrop of the night. The air was crisp, the stars overhead faint in comparison to the warmth emanating from the home before you.

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile tugged at your lips.

Bucky stood on the porch, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his shoulders tense as he watched you. There was a nervous energy about him, as though he wasn’t sure if this gesture would land the way he hoped.

“Well?” he asked, his voice softer than you remembered, almost shy. “Is it too much?”

You shook your head, blinking back the sting of tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes. “No,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “It’s perfect.”

Relief washed over his features, and he stepped closer, his boots crunching lightly against the snow-dusted porch. His gaze never left yours, the intensity of his steel-blue eyes grounding you as he bridged the gap between you.

“That look on your face right now,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I want.”

Your breath hitched at the sincerity in his tone, the way his vulnerability wrapped around you like a second layer of warmth.

“Bucky,” you started, but he shook his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft, almost bittersweet smile.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his words as much a confession as a plea. “I’ve missed this. Missed Us.”

Your heart clenched at the raw emotion in his voice. There was no hesitation, no bravado- just him, standing before you, laying his heart bare in a way that stole your words.

You took a tentative step closer, your hand reaching up to touch his cheek. The faint scruff of his beard scratched against your palm, grounding you in the moment. “I’ve missed you too,” you admitted softly.

Bucky leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he opened them again, locking onto yours. “I don’t want to waste any more time,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I want to make this right. Tell me I can do that?”

Tears spilled over, but this time they were warm, cathartic. “Yeah Buck, y-you can,” you whispered, the words thick with emotion.

“I can’t lose you,” he said simply. “Not again.”

His words broke the wall inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, your lips capturing his. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, months of longing pouring into every movement. His hands cradled your face as if you were something fragile, something precious.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling in the space between you. Bucky’s hands lingered on your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks as if grounding himself in the reality of the moment. His chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths, the raw emotion in his eyes enough to steal the air from your lungs.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, one hand sliding beneath your legs as he effortlessly lifted you off the ground. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively looped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in the long strands of his hair.

“Let me take care of you, Doll,” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with tenderness.

He carried you up the porch steps, his footsteps slow and deliberate as if savouring the feeling of holding you close again. When he opened the door, the warm glow of the Christmas lights inside welcomed you, casting soft patterns on the walls. The room smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon, a cozy haven from the chill outside.

Bucky walked straight to the couch, sitting down with you still cradled in his arms. He shifted, his hands adjusting to hold you firmly as you straddled his lap. The proximity made your heart race, the heat of his body radiating through his jacket as your foreheads pressed together again.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. “About you. About us. Tell me this isn’t a dream Doll.”

“It’s not,” you promised softly, your hands cupping his face. “I’m here, Buck. I’m yours.”

Something in him snapped at your words. His lips found yours again, more insistent this time, a hunger building between you that had been simmering for far too long. His hands slid down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he guided you closer, your bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

“God, Doll,” he groaned against your lips, his voice vibrating through you. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His mouth moved from yours, trailing heated kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. He nipped lightly at the sensitive skin there, soothing it with his tongue before whispering, “Missed the way you taste, the way you feel.”

A soft whimper escaped you as his hands slid beneath your sweater, his rough fingers skimming over your bare skin. He groaned when he felt you shiver beneath his touch, his lips finding their way back to yours as he tugged the fabric over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over you with a reverence that made your breath hitch. “How’d I ever let you go?”

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached for the buttons of his jacket. He helped you shrug it off, the layers falling away until it was just the two of you, skin against skin, no barriers left to hide behind.

He shifted beneath you, his hands gripping your thighs as he stood, carrying you effortlessly toward the bedroom. “Need you,” he said, his voice raw. “Need to feel you, Doll. Need to remind you how much you mean to me.”

You barely registered the soft thud of the bedroom door closing before he laid you gently on the bed, his weight settling over you like a protective shield. His lips found yours again, his kiss deep and unrelenting as his hands explored every inch of you.

“Bucky,” you gasped when his lips trailed lower, leaving a path of fire down your chest and stomach. “Please.”

“Patience, Doll,” he murmured, his voice a mix of teasing and worship. “I’m gonna take my time with you. Show you how much I’ve missed you.”

His hands moved with a deliberate slowness, peeling your jeans down your legs inch by inch. His lips followed the curve of your hips, his breath warm against your skin as he left a trail of kisses down your thighs. Each touch sent a ripple of anticipation coursing through you, your body trembling beneath his attentions.

When you were bare before him, he paused, his eyes raking over you with an intensity that made your breath catch. The room seemed to hum with the weight of his gaze, the hunger and reverence in his expression sending a flush across your cheeks.

“So perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His hand slid up your legs, his calloused fingers trailing fire along your skin as they gripped your hips possessively. “All mine.”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice a whispered plea as your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you. “All yours, Buck.”

A low growl rumbled in his throat at your words, and he leaned down, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. His tongue slid against yours, tasting you, claiming you, while his hands continued their exploration, mapping every inch of you as if committing you to memory.

When his lips left yours, they trailed down your jaw, your neck, and then lower. He took his time, his mouth lavishing attention on every sensitive spot, drawing soft gasps and moans from your lips. His teeth grazed the curve of your breast before his tongue soothed the ache, his name tumbling from your mouth like a prayer as his hand found the heat between your thighs.

“You’re so wet for me, Doll,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. His fingers teased your folds, spreading your slick arousal before circling your clit with slow, torturous precision. “Been dreaming about this. About you.”

Your hips arched into his touch, your body begging for more as his fingers worked you expertly. The coil of pleasure in your belly tightened with each movement, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, his fingers slid inside you, curling to hit the spot that made your vision blur.

“Bucky,” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way back up your body.

“Let go for me, baby girl,” he murmured against your skin.

You did as beautiful as he remembered. The release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your back arching off the bed as his name spilled from your lips in a breathless cry. Bucky watched you the entire time, his gaze dark and possessive as he guided you through the waves of pleasure.

But he wasn’t done.

As you came down, your body still trembling, he shed the last of his clothes, the sight of him stealing what little breath you had left. His muscles rippled as he moved over you, the heat of his body pressing into yours as he lined himself up at your entrance.

“Look at me, Doll,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His vibranium hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “I need to see you. Need to know you’re here.”

Your eyes met his, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart ache. Slowly, he pushed into you, the stretch a perfect mix of pleasure and pain as he filled you completely. He groaned deeply, his head falling to your shoulder as he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feel of him.

“Feel so fucking good,” he breathed, his voice raw and strained. “-made for me Doll.”

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, as though savouring every second. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he drove into you, the friction sparking fire in your veins.

“Bucky,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as he picked up the pace, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, every gasp, groan, and whispered plea driving Bucky on.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “Take me, Doll. Let me feel you.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as he thrust into you with a desperation that matched your own. The tension between you built higher and higher, the edge drawing closer with every movement.

“Oh god.” It was impossible not to get lost in him.

“You going to come again for me, babygirl?” he rasped, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit. His thumb pressed down in time with his thrusts, and the combination sent you spiralling closer the edge, squeezing him. “Going to show me you missed me too?”

“Y-yeah Buck going, to.. god.. fuck.” You nodded frantically, your brows pinching together as it all started to build, a whimper leaving you and he hit that spongey spot inside.

Your release hit you hard, your walls clenching around him as your cries filled the room. Bucky followed seconds later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling into you as he groaned your name.

For a moment, the world stood still, the only sound the heavy breathing of the two of you tangled together. Bucky collapsed onto his forearms, his weight resting carefully on you as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Love you,” he whispered, the words slipping out in the haze of the moment.

Your heart swelled, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “I love you too, Bucky,” you said softly, the truth of it settling over both of you like a balm.

He shifted, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him so that you were tucked against his chest. The soft glow of the Christmas lights bathed the room in a warm hue, wrapping you both in their gentle light.

“Never letting you go again, Doll,” he murmured, his voice resolute as he pressed another kiss to your hair.

And as you lay there, wrapped in his arms, you believed him. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly.  Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”                                

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye.  She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo.  nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry.  eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

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[hyunjin-mylove]

First morning of forever

You open your eyes to a brightly lit room. The morning sun coming in through the balcony doors that have been left open.

As your eyes adjust to the morning, you take in the room. The hotel sheets are warm and soft around you. Clothes litter the floor - your cheeks flush at the memories of last night. A water bottle has been left on your bedside table and you sit up to take a sip. The breeze from the open doors spreads goosebumps down your bare arms. It's then that you notice the empty spot next to you in the bed, quickly losing warmth.

You look over to the balcony, spotting your husband of not even 24 full hours. Instantly, you're warmed by the image of his figure standing out on the balcony, taking in the world below. His tan skin glows in the morning sunlight, almost like he's some angel and not a mere mortal. Hyunjin always had that aura about him and you were left completely speechless every time you recognized it. The silky robe he threw on when he got out of bed sways gently as another breeze rolls in. This time, you barely notice, too enraptured by the man you get to call your husband.

The ring on his finger sparkles in the sun, catching your eye. A smile finds its way to your lips as you recall how excited you were to put it on him the day before that your hands couldn't stop shaking until he guided your hands to his. Tears begin to well up as you recite his vows in your head, poetic by nature, and you need to lean back into the pillows to brunt the force of love and emotions hitting you all at once.

As if sensing you've awoken, Hyunjin turns to meet your eyes with his own. A gentle smile graces his face as he carefully takes in his bride. You're sure your hair is a mess and your pajamas were never the cutest, but there was not a hint of judgement in his eyes. The sun hit his eyes in such a way that plain old brown could no longer describe them, but no matter what colour they were, pure love was all you could see in them. It was all you'd ever seen when he looked at you.

Gracefully, almost as if he's floating, his long legs take him to the bed where you lay. He sits next to you and cups your face in his large hands. A kiss is pressed to your forehead and his thumbs swipe away the tears that fell when you closed your eyes in contentment at being held by him.

"Good morning, my love," he mumbles against your hairline. Hyunjin pulls away to look you in your eyes once again. "Happy tears or sad?"

"Happy," comes your wet reply. The grin on your face pulls at your cheeks in a way that you know he's restraining himself from pinching. "So very happy. Just overwhelmed by how much I love you."

You watch as tears begin to well up in his own eyes at your admission before he finds refuge in your hair. Even now that you're finally married, those three words coming from your mouth will always overwhelm him. His arms squeeze you close. The warmth radiating from him is grounding on this gentle, early morning.

Hyunjin's response comes as soft words whispered into your hair.

"You have no idea just the depths of my love for you. I meant what I said yesterday when I said I'm with you until the end. You've taken my heart and soul; I cannot live without you."

You gently push him away so you can see his face. He easily goes but before he can continue his speech, you pull him to your lips. The kiss is wet, both of your tears mixing on each other's cheeks, but it is no less gentle than he promised the day he learned your first kiss would be his to cherish. His hands find their home on your cheek and around your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your grip pulls him even closer to you, where he's practically laying on top of you, but it's exactly where you both want him to be. The plans he made for your first day as a married couple can wait, if it means you can stay in each other's embrace a little longer.

Hi!! Thank you so much for reading! The moment those pictures were released, all I could imagine was what it would be like to wake up to him the first morning of your honeymoon and this is what came about :)

[wonderlandwalker]

Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.

Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos

This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.

Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.

But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.

The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.

“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.

“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.

He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.

“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.

"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.

"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.

He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.

“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”

And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.

He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.

Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.

It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after

Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.

“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.

“Go back where?”

“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”

“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.

“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”

The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.

When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.

“Where?” She asked him

“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.

“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.

“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”

“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”

“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.

“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”

“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?

“They’re at the swamp”

“How are you so sure?”

“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”

“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.

“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.

“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.

“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”

“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.

While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.

He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.

“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.

“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.

“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”

And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.

“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.

“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”

“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.

“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.

He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.

He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’

It was far too late for that.

When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.

“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.

Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.

“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.

But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.

He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.

He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.

When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.

“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.

“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.

“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.

“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.

“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.

“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.

“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.

“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”

“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”

Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.

“Goddamnit”

You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.

“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.

You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.

After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.

[infinitatis-ink]

Service Value

Mei Mei x Reader

Summary: It’s you that Mei Mei ultimately comes back to over and over again. Her favourite asset. Her first choice. So she has to value you a little more than all others…right?

CW: Emotional manipulation, toxic relationships and behaviour, edging, face-sitting, dubcon, overstimulation, light bondage, uneven power dynamics, financially abusive behaviour, mentioned sexual harassment, female Reader, Reader is an adult

A/N: This was just supposed to be a concept, but my hand slipped.

MDNI. AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Mei Mei, who treats you as just another asset. It’s something you pick up on quickly, the way she only calls you whenever she needs your help on another job or someone to spend the night with. 

You don’t mind it too much. After all, you’re not the type to bite the hand that feeds you. Mei Mei’s the one who rescued you and introduced you to the world of Jujutsu sorcerers, showed you where you belonged. You’d be dead in a ditch without her help, devoured by creatures you’d never understand why you were seeing as a hopelessly unlovable woman abandoned by even her own parents.

You’ve got potential, Mei Mei tells you as her brother drags your bruised body out of the wreckage. Yes, you’ll do well.  

It’s more praise than you’ve heard in years, even from your family. Her words fill you with such warmth that you smile for the first time in years. She takes you under her wing then, spending her precious time helping you hone your abilities until it becomes like second nature. 

It’s enough to make up for the missions Mei Mei takes you on that are above your grade, the large cuts she takes of your pay. You never mind; giving your life for hers and paying her back is the least you could do after all the time and money she invested into mentoring a nobody like you. You would make her time worth it all. You have to.

It's that determination that run through your mind the nights Mei Mei strikes your skin hard enough to bruise and abuses your pussy with her fingers, her index curling against your g-spot over and over while her thumb harshly rubs your swollen clit. Every time, she brings you tauntingly close to completion before pulling away with a smirk, until you're a sobbing, dizzy mess, writhing against your restraints. 

But Mei Mei is generous with her rewards, too. Sometimes she’ll shower you with designer clothes and jewels, the chance to accompany her to luxurious dinners and destinations, and her undivided attention for the night. But most of all, you live for the quiet praises whispered in the aftermath of a mission, between the covers as she holds you in her arms late at night. 

Earn it, she orders, climbing over you until her pussy just centimeters above your face. You obey, eating her out desperately as she grips your hair until you’re in tears and she’s cumming on your tongue. But you never learn to be careful what you wish for until she's drawing orgasm after orgasm with no rest as spots dance in your eyes. You're screaming for her to stop because it hurts too much until your world goes black.

(She's always gone when you wake up.)

My good, obedient girl, she calls you. My precious doll. 

(Never mind they’re all on her terms: 

Clothes and jewelry in her favourite colours and cuts, highlighting the features that she loves on you the most. They always show more skin than you’d like, but Mei Mei is spending so much of her hard-earned money on you, so you keep your mouth shut and gratefully accept the gift. 

Dinners and parties where hoary old men with far too much power and money—the best ones, because of all the favours Mei Mei can extract—leer at you like a piece of meat, and all you can do is smile because Mei Mei’s gripping you too tightly when she whispers, helping me hook them in is the least you can do, after all I’ve done for you. 

Attention that ends with you on your hands and knees, bleeding and sobbing from pain as you choke out, I don't want this anymore. Rope digging into your bruised arms and sore cunt, and Mei Mei’s smiling as she says, Are you sure? Think carefully, sweet girl. I have no use for disobedient pets. 

Nothing in this world is free.)

And yet, you’re not naive enough to think this can last forever. Mei Mei’s never been one to hide her true nature from others, and she’ll leave the moment you’re of no value. You will not—cannot—let that happen, not when she cherishes you more than anyone else ever has. Even if you’ll have to push your body past its breaking point with training and make half a dozen binding vows like her brother’s done, it’ll be well worth it when Mei Mei comes to you again with yet another task at hand.  

Hello again, my dear, she’ll say and smile at you, all teeth. Are you ready?

(In the end, you remember this:

It’s you that Mei Mei ultimately comes back to over and over again. Her favourite asset. Her first choice. 

So she has to value you a little more than all others…right?)

[hopefulidiocy]

Try Again?

Modern!Aemond x Modern!Reader

Authors’ note: this has to be one of my favourite oneshots I’ve written <3

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Coming home to your quaint village always awoke a certain nostalgic coziness in your body that could warm you up until you had to make that horrific journey back to the City to continue being a normal adult, but here in the village at the heart of the country, you could simply exist. Memories cling to the buildings, to the maypole in the Town Square that used to be decorated with flowers that have since been replaced with Holly and tinsel, to the bookshop where books have been left to collect dust but the owner will never give it up for a new cafe spot, the cobbled streets with old horse cart tracks even hold memories for you. They weren’t painful memories, they were just of a simpler time and you understood that you grew up wrapped in cotton wool and eventually you had to traipse your way to the city to find a job that’ll keep you above board. You loved your job, being a teacher was that one passion you always found as a child, always make believing with your toys as your pupils and you as the teacher… teaching them how to colour in between the lines and showing them where to sit in assemblies. It came naturally to you so when the post for a drama teacher came up in the newspaper, you snatched it and became another idol for young people of that generation.

Your dad and older sister came to meet you at the station, wrapping you with their warm embrace at the entrance of the lonely station in the village. Your dad looked older, his grey hairs more prominent in his beard and his eyes lined with ages that have long passed him now. Your sister, as always, was radiant with her recent birth and the mother glow definitely didn’t lie.

“Come on, y/n. Mum’s making hot chocolate.” She wrapped her arm around your waist, your dad taking your suitcase as you made your way towards his little car that he kept for almost a decade now. Most people in the village have old cars, it was part of the charm.

Your childhood home came into view, a small cottage with sanded brick walls, a large wreath hung on the pearly white door and your mother stood in the entrance, her red lipstick smile was glowing when she took you into her embrace. Her motherly arms instantly put you at ease when she held her baby for a tad too long, never knowing when to let go. She feared if she let you go you would vanish into thin air. The cream carpet floor travelled into the kitchen.

“Your father doesn’t like cold flooring so now we have carpet everywhere.” She rolled her eyes in earnest as your dad scoffed, popping a chocolate in his mouth. She set a mug in front of you, steaming and completed with a swirl of whipped cream, not too much but not too little. The way you liked it. Your sister sat in front of you, her eyes slightly different, it wasn’t noticeable to anyone else but you as she also sipped on her whipped cream with hot chocolate on the side.

“What?” You asked, wiping the cream moustache off your top lip. Her eyes darted to your parents before looking back at you.

“I have something to tell you.” She pursed her lips slightly.

“Oh my god, will you come out with it? Are you pregnant again?” You asked, pushing your mug away from you.

“Aemond’s back in town.” Your mum ended up saying, sitting next to you. You looked at dad and he confirmed the news by a sad smile, you sat back in your chair almost flabbergasted by the news. Aemond hadn’t been back in town since five years ago when he got his big job in the capital city and he never looked back, he never sent a letter, never sent a text, he even unfollowed you on everything and you resigned to a fate that was a life without him. Your first kiss. Your first hug. Your first everything. You swore you would spend your entire life with him, that was what happened in villages like you lived in. Your sister met her husband at school and stayed with him throughout it all. Now they were married with a newborn son. He left you, one kiss on the cheek and he was gone. Never to talk again.

“Helaena had a baby, we were in hospital together and he’s come back to see his niece and nephew.” Your sister said, taking a gulp of her drink.

“Have you seen him?” You asked, rubbing your face.

“No, not yet. But I know he’s here because his is in the driveway.” She shrugged. “I just thought we should let you know… in case you see him.”

“I wouldn’t break down if I did, I would just smile and look the other way. Like he did with me.” You took another sip as your family exchanged glances.

You slipped into your bed, the feather duvet was always a comforting weight on your body and you let your mind drift to Aemond and how he was the most grounding person you had ever come across. How he probably continued to be one even after you stopped talking. But he ruined every good guy after him.

Snow fell overnight and gave the air a crisp, clean chill that swept into your childhood home as you came down in your favourite jeans and knitted sweater and wellington boots, ready to storm the Christmas Tree Market. Your family always waited for you to come back home to pick their tree and you loved every moment of picking one out. Your nephew sat happily on your brother-in-laws chest, strapped onto it, his little bobble hat was way too big for him and it made him look even more tiny than usual.

“Right!” Your dad clapped his hands together. “Let’s go fuck up the market!”

“Gregory!” Your mum shouted from the kitchen, your sister jokingly covered her son’s ears at your dad’s curse word.

Everyone seemed to be out and about, milling around the tree compound with frost bitten noses and ear muffs, happily dragging a tree by its root almost. You walked arm in arm with your sister towards the Norwegian Spruce trees.

“Don’t you just love the smell.” She made a moment of breathing deeply through her nose, making you laugh. “Smell it!” She demanded, and you made another moment to inhale the smell of nature.

“We need this one.” She pointed to the biggest tree you’ve ever seen.

“That’s the first one you’ve seen.” Your dad pointed out, coming to stand next to his daughters.

“Yes and I just have a feeling it’s the best one.” She said, readying herself to pick it up.

“Amber! You’ve just had a baby, you’re not picking anything up otherwise your stitches will come loose.” Your mother scolded her, patting her arm to make her come back with a smacked ass face. You wandered around the trees for a little longer before your legs grew tired, so you opted for the small cafe at the edge of the compound where people were spilling out. You held onto the cardboard hot chocolate, sipping it softly as your family walked in front of you.

“Y/N.” A voice blasted you to when you were 16 years old, innocent and naive, when you were running away from him trying to pick daisies and he found you, collapsing on top of you and kissing you delicately on the mouth. You turned around to find him. His tall, lanky build and his hair the colour of snow, he looked down at you. Was he always this tall? You couldn’t remember and a pang in your heart rang because maybe you forgot parts of him that you used to love. He was older now, obviously, his hair long and flourished over his shoulders, tied back out of his forehead, his mouth still pouted like it always did but he now had a black leather patch over his eye, he used to have a simple bandage over it, you are struck by his sudden leverage in the world. You knew it just by the rings that were glittering on his fingers.

“Aemond.” You whispered, your breath leaving swirls of frosty air. His eye found your face eventually before looking over your body, not in a predatory way.

“It’s good to see you.” He admitted, smiling slightly. “You look… beautiful.”

“Why are you talking to me, Aemond? Can’t we just leave it alone?” You sighed, you wanted to talk more with him. Get to know him again but you simply cannot continue this conversation without a nod to the past. How he disappeared from your life.

“I know, y/n. I’m sorry, I - I.” He stuttered, looking around for an answer. “I wanted gone from this place. I felt confined to this place. I couldn’t continue going on. Nothing happened here. I needed out.”

“You could’ve told me, Aemond. You never knew that I felt the same way.” You admitted, his eye found yours again, slightly wide.

“You did?” You nodded, sipping on your hot chocolate.

“Christ, I’m sorry, y/n.” He swiped his hand down his face.

“Water under the bridge.” You smiled, not wanting to leave from the moment. You wanted to know everything about him.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve never stopped thinking about you.” His cheeks tinged a slight pink which could be the air but you didn’t see it before. Your heart slightly beat against your chest as you stared up at him, remembering the softness of his palm cradling your cheek when you cried over a failed mock exam.

“Has the big city turned you into a softy, Aemond?” You laughed, which earned a chuckle from him.

“I suppose it has.” He nodded, kicking his feet up slightly. “I want to reconnect with you. I came here hoping to see you, to apologise and tell you that.. that I’ve missed you.” You were the one blushing then. All those lonely nights after he left, wishing for this moment and here it was. You felt 16 again.

“I thought you came to see your sister.” You cocked your head to the side, he knew you were messing.

“And that.” He smiled. “Reconnect with me? I’m here until the week after New Years. We can get coffee? Get to know each other again? See what happens after that?” He looked shy, this big, grown up looked shy.

“I would love that, Aemond.”

[abstractfrog]

HI I JUST SAW YOUR INCREDIBLE SHERLOCK AND CO COMIC YOU MADE AND I WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO TALK ABOUT THE PROCESS AND THE SYMBOLISM AND INTRICACIES AND EVERYTHING PLEASE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

GOD THANK U ok if i actually talked about EVERYTHING i would be here forever and ever, there were things about the process where it kept surprising me and i kept adding stuff.

I talk about my general comic process here , it started out mostly the same for this one. Analysis of the script, sketches, panel and colour blocking

The scene from Mr Sherlock Holmes presented me with a unique challenge (for me) because...usually I pick scenes from the podcast that are instantly visually stimulating. This scene is NOT that. It's sort of unclear and confusing and even the emotive narrative is sort of hard to pick out. Those things I had to sort of decide for myself. It's hard to draw a whole scene like this without first deciding what the scene is about, what its purpose is. If you go back and listen to the episode along with the comic you'll notice all sorts of changes and tonal shifts - that's because of me and my decision making.

I decided that the direction I wanted to go in was to show John having his realization about himself, his podcast, and Sherlock, showing him getting pulled into, yes, Sherlock's world, but also the world of the podcast as an adaptation. I knew i could do this just with colour, but if you've seen my other comics, you know i almost always use colour to show shifts. I guess I had some insecurity about doing the same thing over and over again so I pushed myself to think of other ways I could accomplish it visual. Enter: rendering technique

I will say I didn't expect this effect to make John seem so SAD and MISERABLE, i only wanted to show him getting pulled in, but its effective for his emotions in this scene as well. Scanning drawings into the computer sort of flattens the paper texture, so I started adding photos of the pages of A Study in Scarlet to make him feel more paper-y. And then, of course, realised i could use that to further elaborate on John's inner thoughts, backgrounds, and motivations. People are welcome to interpreted that how they like and i've seen a number of variations, but to me it operates on sort of a meta level, showing the inevitability of what John is going through. He's a Watson, he's always going to follow Holmes, he's going to try and figure him out, and that's why you sort of see a back and forth between acd and pod Watson, highlighting the ways in which they are similar, and then, John breaks off and becomes his own character, still with those foundations but also entirely different.

there's one piece of text that i haven't seen anyone pick up on or mention and I'm starting to think it's gone unnoticed because it's in an unexpected spot. I won't mention what or where because it is, for now, a very indulgent little secret.

I notice a lot of people are getting a kick out of Sherlock playing with the speech bubbles, which I am so pleased by because I almost didn't do it! I thought i was maybe breaking something in the comic but it was so fun that i didn't care and I'm so glad it came across well. It operates on a lot of levels, it shows his thought process, it plays into that fourth-wall medium play i've got going on, and it feeds into the web metaphor as well as visually showing him roping John in.

on the topic of Sherlock, I feel a lot of people are rather focused on John, which is understandable (he's the main event) but Sherlock has a lot of details I love too.

For instance, him pushing his hair back and putting on a coat when the officer arrives, almost like he's shifted modes, and then his hair falling back down when he gets excited and John starts to understand.

I really love this moment of Sherlock seeing John's potential for interest in mysteries when he's trying to solve the matter of what Sherlock Does, and being surprised and flattered for a moment (until John messes it up again)

John copying Sherlock's pose <3

There's deliberate things in the character design as well, things like the fact that once John comes into colour, it reveals that he's actually wearing more colour than anyone else in the scene, and the fact that the grey in John's hair only appears post-greyscale. Things you are welcome to read into. And there are, of course, the socks, which I've seen people pick up on.

Those are the main things for now so i might leave it there, but thank you so much for your ask and i'd be pleased to elaborate further on absolutely anything!

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 9 *final chapter* (4.9k words)

Summary: Final chapter! Valeria thinks of the past as you're released from custody. She wants the two of you to move on but she can't shake the feeling that there's still danger to be faced. Warnings: lesbian smut Note + tag list at the end Link to A03 Link to masterlist with all the parts

Valeria thought of the moment you met. Or rather, the moment she met you because you hadn’t noticed her.

It was many years ago when she was a soldier of the Mexican Army, when she was younger and lost. When she would wander the streets of Las Almas on her days off, unsure of what she was looking for. Back when her skin was tighter, her voice quieter, when she used to follow other people’s orders. It was another hot day when she got sent out of the headquarters to fetch some lunch for her squad – her most loathsome task. She hated how she’d run into other female soldiers her age during the lunch run and feel the burdened femaleness of the task. Hated having a male squad leader who found every chance to shove her in the kitchen by making her fetch something from one. She felt like an armed waitress. And worst of all, she hated the conversations that would happen when she was not there, when the team was finally ‘free’ to speak its mind without having to worry about offending someone. But she bit her tongue and said nothing. It was like a rite of passage for people like her. The go-to kitchen was one run by old Renata, an aged woman who ran a tiny thing in the corner that was able to produce an incredible amount of delicious food. Renata was a small, capable woman who sped around the place fulfilling everyone’s orders. There were never any complaints, and it was close enough to the headquarters that most soldiers used it as their prime takeout spot. She was open from noon till late and was favoured enough that Renata never had to worry about security because there were always soldiers there. Renata winked at Valeria as she approached the kitchen, which was already steaming with food. The restaurant was on the ground floor of a blue building; the restaurant dwelled on the ground floor and the upper floors were for residents. The outdoor part of the kitchen included a counter with stools and some outdoor fridges full of drinks and lollies. Large pans cooked steamy food at the front whilst a narrow, dark hallway led to an area in the back where the rest happened. The smell of spiced food and the loud sound of the fridge containing ice cold drinks were delightful to Valeria’s senses. She held a piece of paper in her hands.

“Valeria, my sweet. What can I get for you?” Renata asked with that warm, maternal glow that some old women had. It made a painful lump emerge in Valeria’s throat; she swallowed it down. Valeria slid the note to her. “Just the usual, Senora. Thank you.”

Renata glanced at the paper and smiled as Valeria took a seat on one of the stools by the counter. “I’ll add it to the tab,” said the woman and vanished to the other side of the kitchen. It was a hot day yet still busy, even with regular civilians eating or picking up food. Valeria’s mind wandered to things that were occupying her at the moment when she saw the flash of a hair ribbon flicker from the hallway. A shadowed figure moved around hurriedly, moving cartons of stuff per Renata’s instructions. The old woman emerged again with packaged food to give to someone. There was nothing interesting about a hair ribbon, plenty of girls wove them in their plaits. But for some reason, Valeria’s eye stayed fixated on the spot, waiting to see that colour flicker again.

“It’s my granddaughter,” said Renata whilst wrapping something in plastic. Valeria looked around only to realise that Renata was speaking to her. “You have family?” Valeria asked before she could stop herself. But Renata only laughed, the sound was like the jingle of bells caught in the wind.

“Oh yes, plenty. I just don’t like to share my business, but that one’s good. She’s helping out for a bit.” Renata bagged some drinks and held them out to Valeria.

The ribbon flickered again, the colour shone from the few specks of light that fell on the shadows. It was a soft purple colour and attached to a long length of hair. There was something in the way that it glided amongst the darkness of the hallway, how it followed the curve of your movements. It danced like a fallen flower petal and although Valeria was not particularly feminine, there was something that drew her to it. But before she could see more, she had her bag of food and had to return. Curious to see more, Valeria returned right before Renata closed up the place with the excuse that she came to cover the tab.

And that’s when she saw the rest of you. Your skin glistened with sweat underneath the lamp lights, Valeria saw you at work from afar before she approached. A girl with quick hands bobbing her head back and forth between pans, a fistful of paper orders leaking from her front pocket. Large, beautiful eyes that fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. You shone a polite smile at Valeria, acknowledging her as a customer whilst you finished serving someone. Valeria knew from that moment that you would be hers, pure intuition told her so. And so she enjoyed this moment where you were still complete strangers, because soon enough you would be more than that. There was something about the tense line of your mouth as you concentrated, the way it hid your lips that made Valeria want to reach in and remove what ailed you.

“Sorry, what can I get you?” You asked, your hands reaching for a plastic container, waiting for the name of a food. Instead, Valeria outstretched her hand.

“Valeria Garza. Sergeant.” It was something about the way Valeria’s way of speaking that made you look up and see her properly. She had that look soldiers had, that straight back and tone of authority, no matter what their actual rank was. You saw plenty of her people every day who just wanted a service and nothing more. But this one spoke to you. Something fluttered in your stomach when you shook Valeria’s hand. Her hand didn’t hold itself against yours for a few seconds the way that polite handshakes did. It fit your palm perfectly and as Valeria removed her hand, you felt the ends of her fingers caress the length of your palm as if hesitant to lose your touch.

“Y/N,” you said.

Valeria remembered this as she saw you changing your clothes right before your release. The ‘day’ of your release was actually a night as a matter of safety. It was thought best to release such a high-profile person as Valeria when the prison was closed for the night, to avoid the traffic of visitors. The two of you were the only ones in the room but you still covered parts of you whilst changing. Valeria looked at your hair wistfully. “Why don’t you wear ribbons anymore?” She asked.

You looked at her confused and shrugged. “I don’t know. One day I just stopped.” You continued changing. Many years had passed since you met; your body and your hair had changed. When you met, you were young enough to not have quite filled into your womanly features. Those last remnants of puppy fat that cling to women in their early 20s were gone, parts of you were plumper than they used to be, and your hair had changed too. But none of that changed how Valeria looked at you, that twinkle of adoration.

“Yes, but why?” Valeria sat there, staring.

“It’s like the last day you went to play outside. I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t realise it in the moment. But I just never did it again.” You saw how Valeria looked at you in that moment, her dark eyes taking in your body, a hunger. Her lips were pursed. “Is it because you used to do it for Diane?” Valeria saw your movements falter for a second. You scoffed lightly. “When did you remember her?” You mumbled to yourself and stood straight, brushing down your clothes. “Did you though?” Valeria asked. You folded the prison attire and left it in a box. “I told you, baby. I don’t know.” There was a nervous impatience creeping into your voice that Valeria didn’t like, but it was understandable. The closer you got to freedom, the harder it was to stay in there. Valeria knew her question was provocative and frankly unnecessary, but she couldn’t stop herself. She could sense a change in the wind, but Valeria could not yet understand what was happening “I miss them,” said Valeria softly, thinking of the ribbons. She had changed to her usual attire, a black turtleneck clinging to her upper body with her classic chain around her neck. Her work belt was waiting for her past the upcoming security check and she felt its absence on her waist like a phantom limb. Visions of the past had started haunting her recently, creeping up in her waking moments. She wasn’t usually this sentimental and spaced out, but something had changed recently – you could tell. She was becoming…not softer, but wistful of things that were no more. Her fuss about the ribbon was just the latest. She would randomly ask you about what happened to that old garment that you wore on your first date. Or what happened to that bracelet she got you on your first anniversary? And what about that dessert you stopped making?

“What do you think old Renata is up to now?” She asked and you just about lost it. You breathed carefully to calm yourself before turning to your wife, who was now rising from her seat. You caught her hands and placed them on your cheeks, and it snapped Valeria out of her trance.

“Val,” you said in no more than a whisper. “We’ve talked about this.” Your eyes held Valeria’s dark ones, silently pleading for her mercy. Valeria nodded and looked away.

You thought about this change in her behaviour as you left the facility. It was not lost on you that Valeria was getting older and had an atypical, queer life. The regular marks of life were lost to the two of you; you had no children, no ‘regular’ income with Valeria’s operation, and no holidays with family. The two of you were your own unit and were happy. But recent events had pulled the rug beneath Valeria’s feet, and you wondered if she was starting to question the point of all this. The heavy metal door of the entrance opened up to the darkness of the outside world. It was a cloudy night with no moonlight and no stars, but the fresh country air brushed your cheeks blissfully.

Security was tight, you made out the shapes of guards everywhere you looked and there was a cacophony from the barks of police dogs. Harsh white lights were set to guide you towards the helipad where Valeria’s helicopter rested. And there, amidst the harshness of the yard, was an unmarked vehicle and a woman leaning on it. Her eyes were set on the pair of you as you stepped out. Valeria tightened her hold on your hand.

“What is it now? She whispered to herself as you walked forward. More was visible of that woman as you got closer. She was a middle-aged white woman with a neat, prim appearance. Her hair was a pale colour, somewhere between blonde and white, kept in a neat bun. And her eyes were a piercing blue colour. In fact, she could’ve been older. Her eyes never left Valeria. This usually happened on the rare occasion that you were introduced to someone in Valeria’s presence – they spoke to both of you but really, they spoke to Valeria. Valeria let out a strange noise as she recognized the woman.

“Valeria and Y/N Garza,” she said and glanced at you momentarily. “Congratulations on your release. I wanted to personally apologise on behalf of Task Force 141 and Los Vaqueros for the terrible mishandling of your extraction.” Those pale, disconcerting eyes turned to you. They reminded you of a snake. “And I want to personally apologise to you, Y/N Garza, for your terrible treatment during custody. I want to assure you that the person responsible has-"

“Speaking to my wife is a privilege,” Valeria’s cold voice interjected loudly. “No one has it, and especially not you, Kate Laswell." The woman, Kate, pursed her lips together and nodded. She seemed like a powerful woman to you; the way she stood with perfect posture, the neatness of her appearance. And most of all, that shiny American badge handing off her heck. And yet she allowed herself to be scolded by Valeria. "I understand you’re upset, and you have every right to. I just wanted to affirm the terms of our agreement-" “If you want to communicate with me, you have my lawyer’s details. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a home to return to.” Valeria said and nodded her head towards the helicopter, which was now moving its fans rapidly. “Come on,” she mumbled to you. The two of you started walking around Kate, but that woman turned to you again. “I would have done the same for my wife,” said Kate. Valeria stopped and glanced back at Kate with disdain, it was a glance so full of disgust that it made you look away. “You’re nothing like me,” Valeria spat out.

Valeria turned and helped you up the helicopter, then entered herself. There was something about the desperate gesture of goodwill from another woman-lover that felt too precious to allow to disappear. This woman didn’t have to do this, but she still chose to be here, like a daffodil emerging of out of deep snow at the beginning of spring. Unexpected, but welcome. You turned to look at the woman one last time, but Valeria saw what was about to happen and slammed the door quickly before you could say anything. The helicopter lifted off the ground immediately. You turned to her sharply.

“I wanted to thank her,” you complained. Valeria said nothing as she put on her headpiece and began handling the helicopter’s navigation. You gazed out of the window as the world got smaller. Kate didn’t take her eyes off you until she became just another tiny thing on the ground. You wondered what all this was about and tried to release your curiosity. It was probably to do with whatever Valeria did to have you released, that terrible thing she wanted you to stay out of.

After what seemed like forever, you could see the familiar shape of your estate come into focus. You all but leapt out of the aircraft when it touched the grass of your home, which you noticed was trimmed. Valeria must’ve had the place cleaned up and maintained during your time in custody. You noticed Valeria’s frantic scrambling for anything that might have been mailed in, and soon enough the ‘business’ part of the estate was in full swing. Men ran around per Valeria’s loud orders, her shouts echoing down the many hallways. You tried not to feel hurt when she entered her study and locked the door behind her. You headed for your golden bathroom and filled the tub with hot, soapy water.

You immersed yourself inside and tried to clean yourself of all that happened. You washed off the cold looks from the man with the skull masked, scrubbed off Alejandro’s threats, and rinsed off the old skin of a body that dwelled in confinement. You then lathered your body with all the scented creams you could combine until you smelled like a flower nymph, you dressed your body in the silkiest garments you could find. Anything to return to the woman you were before Alejandro had leapt inside yours and Valeria’s bedroom.

You were almost asleep by the time Valeria returned. Her steps were so quiet that she startled you when she suddenly slipped inside the sheets, coming to spoon you from behind. She burrowed her face in the nook of your neck and inhaled deeply, you felt the softness of her skin on your back as she held you close. As she exhaled, you smelled the faint linger of nicotine in her breath and grumbled. “Just for tonight, baby. I’m sorry.” She said and gave small pecks to your jaw and then the back of your ears. “You smell so good,” she mumbled and tugged at your ears with her teeth. One of her hands roamed the length of your figure and you leaned back towards her body, feeling the soft and hard parts of her. The softness of her chest and tummy, the firmness of her upper arms, the strength of her legs as they snaked around yours and held you in place. You turned and shared a big, long kiss. You tasted the faint linger of smoky nicotine in her mouth mixed with the tangy sweetness of alcohol. She had celebrated your return home in her own way.

Valeria pulled back from you. “What if we left?” she asked, her lips almost touching yours. Her eyes were closed as she said this, and you nuzzled your face to hers. Suddenly, you felt how cold she was: she must’ve been smoking outside. It was something she did rarely because you hated the smell and you had always warned her about how it would yellow her teeth. It was a hard habit to break and although she was mostly clean, there were moments where she just needed a smoke.

You cupped the back of her head, the softness of her hair awakened something inside of you. A hunger, a warmth that glowed within you; you felt the same thing linger in Valeria’s body, down her legs and in her abdomen. The silence of the estate reminded you of your returned privacy. “I’d follow you anywhere,” you whispered and kissed her. Valeria moaned into the kiss, that delightful sound buzzed on your skin. She held your face with her hand, deepening the kiss until your bodies were desperately crashing into each other. Sloppy, wet kisses were interrupted by the shuffle of your bedsheets as you clawed at each other’s layers, begging to see and feel the other’s skin.

“You’re so cold, my love,” you whispered as Valeria pulled down your nightgown. Your breasts came into view and the sight elicited a soft noise from your wife. Valeria’s eyes darkened as she looked at them. She removed her final layer and tossed it across the room. “Come warm me up,” she said and pulled you on top of her. Your body fit onto hers and you enjoyed how similar yet different the two of you were. Two soft bodies pressing into each other; one cold, one warm. The tantalizing softness of your chests being brought together; the way she pressed you down onto her as she sought your warmth and softness, wanting to desperately feel your wetness onto her own. You kissed and allowed Valeria’s greedy tongue into your mouth, one of her hands kept travelling further down your back and she slowly inserted one of her fingers inside you. The kiss broke and you moaned weakly. Valeria moved her head higher to steal your lips again. Her finger stretched and curled, teasingly lingering close to your sensitive spot.

“That’s what you were thinking about. Right, princess?” Valeria asked and made you look at her, her finger exited and caressed your special spot on the outside, wetting your clit with your juices. “Yes,” you mewled, and she rewarded you with two fingers.

“You’re so warm,” Valeria whispered, and you kissed again. She slowed down and pumped weakly in and out of you, making you move your lower body desperately for more. You felt Valeria chuckle beneath you, she found it amusing when you moved yourself onto her hands; Valeria wanted to feel imperative to the path of your desire. She was the keeper of your pleasure, an instrument to your love making, your path to bliss. She urged you to keep going and just watched you dance to the song of your passion, watched as you moved to straddle her. The sight of your breasts bouncing up and down as you rose and lowered yourself onto her hand.

“Be loud for me, baby. I’ve missed it.” Valeria said as you bit your lip. Arousal made you bold and when Valeria moved her hand so it pumped into you, you spread your legs and moved frantically to your climax. Your cries of pleasure mixed with Valeria’s commands to keep going, to keep clenching onto her like the desperate, lovely thing that you were. To be good and open your legs more so she can see you come prettily, like you always did. You closed your eyes as the sensitive, hot spot within you erupted and the heat reverberated across your body. Valeria sighed satisfyingly as she pumped a bit more into you, making you jolt in your place as she sought the last scraps of your orgasm.

You looked down and found Valeria smiling to herself. “You’re glistening like a diamond, my love.” You huffed and breathed out from your slightly swollen lips, then lowered yourself onto her again. Valeria made a small noise as your ground your wetness all over hers, shivering as you rubbed onto her clit. Your hand reached into a drawer of your bedside table as you continued this movement until you found what you were looking for. “My love…” Valeria trailed off as she noticed this.

“You missed your favourite, no?” You said and brought her favourite toy in sight, a lengthy vibrator. You wanted her to have a truly special moment now that you were back home and safe to express the true potential of your eroticism. And there was one thing in particular that you felt she needed, something that was more than just the gratification of her senses: words of love. “Let me speak my love to you,” you said. Valeria’s eyes were dark with lust, and she flushed at the sight of the toy. But beneath that passion lay something vulnerable. Something that needed to be gently caressed. Valeria’s recent ramblings had concerned you and the way she mentioned your ex today was the nail in the coffin. Valeria, you felt, was feeling insecure. Intimacy is more than just sex, it is the tenderness of sweet words whispered between kisses and licks, it is found in the gentle touch of a lover who sees behind the desire within your eyes and speaks to the person in there who is desperate to unify with their partner. Who wants to reach true intimacy, to embed their soul unto yours. Sweet words were necessary with Valeria, but you couldn’t do that when using your tongue for other things. Valeria was quiet, she tugged at your lips with her teeth and opened her legs.

“You know how much I love you, Val.” You said whilst gazing into your eyes. Valeria nodded and you kissed, your hands positioned themselves close to Valeria’s core.

“I want to be with you forever,” you whispered and caressed the clean plastic onto Valeria’s wetness, you felt her sigh shakily.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” you pecked at her neck in between your words. Valeria’s little noises hummed out of her as you tugged at the sensitive spot beneath her jaw, the spot that made her squirm. “Y/N…” she whimpered your name pleadingly and the toy came to life. “I love you more than anything,” you said as you made love to her. The toy vibrated tantalizingly on her clit and rested there as you inserted a finger inside. Valeria moaned out your name and pleaded for kisses with her eyes, which you granted.

"Does my love feel good?” You asked her and she nodded whilst biting her lip. Valeria threw her head to the side with ecstasy. She cried out for more, which you delivered. You increased the toy’s setting and slowed down with your fingers so she could enjoy more of her pleasure. “You’re so beautiful,” you moaned and busied yourself with your wife’s throat, licking and kissing and biting it. Seeing Valeria like that turned you on and you lowered your core onto hers, feeling the second-hand vibrations bounce from Valeria’s skin onto yours. Valeria’s hands trailed down your back, making you shiver. The sounds of wet skin slapping, of moans and gasps filled your marital bedroom, the bedframe creaked as you made passionate love. “Come on, come on,” you mewled and pumped into her faster than before. You could tell she was close from her movements, her fingernails were digging into your skin almost painfully, but the discomfort got lost amidst the high of your sex. “Show me your love, Val. Come for me.” You took one of her nipples in your mouth and pinched it with your teeth and it sent Valeria to her climax. “I’m here, baby. I’m here,” she moaned as she started to erupt in orgasm. You saw a glimpse of insecurity flash her eyes as she wet the bed, but you drew out all of it with your fingers. “It’s natural baby, give all of it to me.” You said and she released it all.

"I’m so proud of you, baby. You haven’t done that in a while.” You said and kissed her forehead. Valeria huffed out and gave you a small smile, her cheeks were flushed with colour.

You cleaned each other in the bathroom with the shy smiles and looks of people who were happy but slightly embarrassed in hindsight. “It’s normal, my love,” you kept saying and washed off Valeria’s skin. The two of you lay in bed for a long time after that, not falling asleep but caressing each other’s skin in the darkness.

“You want to leave?” You asked and heard Valeria sigh next to you.

“I’m scared, Y/N.” She said finally. “He won’t leave us alone.” Fear tugged at your heart as you listened to her. “You think he’ll come after us again?” Valeria nodded next to you, she didn’t need to ask to know who you meant. “You saw how much he hates me, Y/N. And now he hates you. I know Alejandro well enough to know this: he will not stop. I don’t know how he’ll do it, but I know it.” You lay there in silence for a bit as you thought it out. Those people know where you live now – Alejandro’s team and the people he worked with. And who’s to say that the rest wouldn’t want revenge too. You remembered that masked man who removed you from the container, the one with the skull face. You remembered how his partner got hurt when you fled, maybe worse. What if he also wants revenge for what happened? You got him in trouble, didn’t you?” You asked her and felt Valeria turn to you sharply. You spoke quickly before she could jump to any conclusions. “I haven’t inferred anything more, I promise. And I won’t ask. But I can tell that much. You think he’ll want revenge for that?” Valeria shifted next to you and, for the first time ever, she let you to a part of her that was carefully guarded. The mastermind behind everything. “Yes.” You turned and softly pressed your forehead onto hers. The smell of soap on her skin mixed with her natural smell and as you inhaled it, you felt how badly you wanted the moment to last forever. “Let’s leave, Val.”

For the rest of the night, whispers of forgotten dreams and giggles over potential occupations turned your bedroom into a portal of the wildest parts of your imagination. What if you retired early by the seaside? What if you finally wrote that cooking book that you sometimes daydreamed about when setting the table? And what if Valeria became an art collector with the rest of her money? What if you vanished into thin air?

*

It was many months later when someone visited that estate again. A figure jumped over a wall in the middle of the night and shuffled around the bushes. Their eyes scanned the perimeter with the movements of a predator that sought its prey. That person slowly arose to their full height in disbelief: the place was entirely deserted. Only some scraps of light from lampposts illuminated whatever was left behind. The house was a shell of its former self, dark and devoid of people. Gnarly bushes of roses and overgrown weeds desecrated the once carefully maintained garden, they stretching out their green, thorny limbs to tear at the man’s uniform. Alejandro cursed loudly as he looked around, he called out to someone. And somewhere far away, two women danced in their warm kitchen, swinging their hips and laughing as their dinner cooked. In the living room, a fire was going in the fireplace, and they would later sit and sip their wine whilst watching a film. And then, they would go to bed. Because your life didn’t end when you were stolen from your wife. And her life didn’t end when she lost you. You would find each other over and over again just so you could dance like this. This moment was infinite. There was only one way things could have ended, and this was it. In Valeria’s arms, hearing your food bubble in the pot. Life didn’t have to be about money and blood and fear. It could be about dancing in the kitchen with your love late at night, seeing Valeria’s eyes twinkle beneath the light.

Note: Final chapter y'all we did it! Thank you so much for reading my story, I hope you liked the ending. This is the first fanfic I've ever finished omg. I got very attached to Valeria and Y/N's story so of course they needed a happy ending :) Writing this series has been so fun for me, thank you for all the comments and likes!

tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie @00ops1e @yaebaal @p3arlier @xreals @coffeeandtealol

[foolforharrry]

Off The Deep End

Word count: 12.8k words

Summary: Harry is scared of how much he feels and goes about it like a fucking idiot.

Warnings: There is smut. Nothing too crazy

This one has taken me forever to write and it got way longer than i intended it to. But I'm absolutely in love with them and I hope you guys like them too. But be nice to them please. They're my babies.

But I hope you like it anyway. And if you wanna read more of my work, I have it all linked on my masterlist.

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and if you have any requests please feel free to give them to me and I will do my absolute best to do it.

Amber

“Fuck. Just like that, baby.”, Harry praises, dropping his forehead to my neck. His harsh breaths hit my sweaty skin making a shiver travel down my spine as I ride him. The need to make him feel good drowned out the burning in my thighs from the exertion.

As long as he feels good it doesn’t matter.

Burying my fingers in his damp hair, I hold onto it as if my life depends on it, the moans falling from my lips loud and unrestrained as I feel that pressure in my tummy starts to build.

With my thighs straddling him, knees digging into the mattress below us, Harry keeps his hands on my hips to guide them to his liking as he kneads the flesh of my ass. The low moans and whimpers of pleasure he lets out only fuel my own.

His hair is messy from how much I’ve pulled on it. Skin flushed and gleaming with sweat. The crease between his eyebrows is deeper than normal and his red, swollen lips are parted with needy moans.

My eyes flutter when I feel Harry place a hot open-mouthed kiss on the base of my neck before he starts sucking on the sensitive skin. Sharp stings of pain travel down my spine as he nips at the skin before gliding his tongue over it to soothe it again. It has me clenching and fluttering around his dick as I feel the unmistakable feeling of my orgasm growing as my hips falter in their work and I struggle to keep lifting myself up.

Harry must notice because he flips us so he’s on top, my head hitting the pillows next to where his just laid all without slipping out of me. And he picks up right where I left off, pulling out almost all the way so that just the tip of his cock is left inside of me before he slams his hips in, filling me all the way to the brim.

The new angle has me choking on a breath as he hits that spot that makes my toes curl and my eyes squeeze shut.

Harry supports his weight on his arms, his body hovering just above my own as he drops his sweaty forehead to mine. It feels like his eyes are staring right into my soul, pupils blown out from lust. “That feel good, baby? You like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” His voice is deep and raspy and dripping with desire

I don’t even get the chance to answer him, interrupted by a harsh groan as he delivers an extra hard thrust that has my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

That should be answer enough.

The sound of skin slapping against skin is sinful enough. But the things Harry is saying in my ear could come straight from the devil himself.

“Fuck.”, I cry out when Harry shifts all his weight over to his left arm, attaching his thumb to my clit and rubbing it in fast, precise circles. It feels like too much and I’m gripping Harry’s shoulders as if I would float away if I let go when the intense pleasure that’s lighting my skin on fire makes it hard to breathe. Almost as if the air is too thin.

“Harry. I’m gonna-”, I try to warn him, but I’m cut off by my own moan. I don’t last as long as I would normally from all the teasing Harry has been doing all day. I’m defenceless against the fireworks just waiting to go off and make the sky bright with all the colours of the rainbow. And he knows it.

The dazed half-smirk on his face says it all as he nods, “I know, baby. Let go. Cum all around my cock. I need it.”

That’s all it takes and I’m toppling over the edge with Harry’s name on my tongue like a never-ending prayer. My cunt spasms and my body trembles with the blinding orgasm that makes my ears ring and my vision go white.

I’m so far up in the clouds I barely even register Harry’s thrusts faltering as he reaches his high not long after me.

When I’ve come down from my orgasm, it’s with Harry laying on top of me. Our bodies as close as they could physically be.

Still not opening my eyes, I run my fingers up his back, finding comfort in how warm and soft his skin is. The heat that spreads across my cheeks when I feel him smile against my neck makes me grateful that he can’t see my face right now.

I find myself not wanting this moment to ever end. Perfectly content just basking in post-orgasmic bliss and the warmth of Harry’s body. There have been times I’ve thought things couldn’t possibly get any better than they are. This moment right here might just take first place on the list though.

“You feel good?”, Harry breaks the silence, bringing me out of my head and placing a small kiss on my shoulder as he lifts himself up.

“Mhm.”, I hum, the tiredness from our activities settling in my body. “Really good.”

Even though I knew it was coming, I still can’t help the whimper from sensitivity when he pulls out. “I know, darling. I’m sorry.”

I feel his breath on my face as the mattress dips next to my head, telling me that he is hovering above me again. “Look at me.”

“No.” I shake my head, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, tucking my bottom lip into my mouth when his nose bumps against mine. An explosion of butterflies erupts in my stomach from the gesture.

Harry kisses the tip of my nose, then both my cheeks before he results to pepper kisses all over my face until I’m full-on laughing, opening my eyes to find him looking down at me with a cheesy smile on his face that has his dimples carving into his cheeks. “There she is.”

The words on the tip of my tongue falter at the next thing that comes from his; “You’re so damn beautiful.”

There isn’t a hint of sarcasm or irony. Just honesty. And dare I say affection?

If I wasn’t so tired right now, I might have started running around my apartment, screaming like a crazy woman.

Cupping the sides of his face, stroking his soft, glowing cheeks with the pads of my thumbs as my gaze switches between his eyes. Taking in the gentle green with speckles of gold so beautiful and delicate my breath gets caught in my throat all over again.

“You’re a special kind of beautiful too.”, I whisper, eyes widening in slight panic when I realise I said it out loud. That is not what I meant to say. It has my heart picking up in my chest as I search for any sign that I fucked up.

My anxieties prove to be without merit when the initial look of surprise on his face is washed away by a gleaming close-lipped smile, his bunny teeth digging into his bottom lip.

An emotion I can’t quite decipher flickers through his twinkling eyes before he dips down and connect out lips in a soft, tender kiss that has my eyes fluttering close. The kind of kiss that doesn’t lead anywhere.

It’s new and unlike the kisses we’ve shared in the time we’ve known each other. But I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t have a new kind of warmth glowing around my heart.

As terrifying as it is, it’s also something I find myself craving to feel again the second he pulls away.

The sound of my alarm is what pulls me out of my deep sleep.

Drowsily and blindly, I fumble around my nightstand for where the horrible noise is coming from so I can make it fucking stop.

After a few seconds of enjoying the silence, I notice the cold, empty mattress my arm is spread out on. Cold enough for it to have been unoccupied for quite some time now.

The realisation has me sitting up quickly, suddenly wide awake as I struggle to make out anything in the dark room. The only sound I can hear is the rustling of my sheets and my own breathing.

Although the smell of him is still lingering in the air, he’s not wrapped up in the duvet next to me anymore.

My stomach sinks in disappointment and confusion.

But instead of letting myself sit and overthink it, I throw the covers off my body, shuddering as the cold air meets the bare skin of my legs. I wrap my arms around myself as I get out of bed and pad on bare feet across the floor in the dark.

I need my morning pee.

However, I’m stopped in my tracks when I spot the post-it note stuck to my bathroom mirror just after I close the door behind me.

Nearly tripping over my feet, I snatch the yellow paper off the reflective surface, squinting my tired eyes as I make out the words written in messy handwriting.

Morning, sleepy head. Sorry to run out on you like this. Let me make it up to you? I’ll call you after you get home today.

Love, H

-

3 weeks later

I’ve never really been the type of girl who gets attached.

Never in my twenty-four years of life have I walked around and waited for a boy to call me back. Reaching for my phone the second the screen lights up with a notification only to have my heart drop to my stomach when I once again discover that it’s not who I hoped it was.

“No, Bon. It wasn’t just sex. I really liked him. And I thought he likes me too.”, I sigh, already prepared for the lecture sitting at the tip of her tongue.

And she gives it. “You know I love you, but I think maybe you should let this go. I don’t know him, but I do know you. Babe, you haven’t opened up to a guy ever since Dan. We both know what happened there and I just don’t think that having the first man you let in should be someone who will just ghost you for three weeks- What I mean is that you deserve someone who doesn’t hurt you like he’s obviously doing.”

“I’m not saying that you should just forget about Harry. Because you obviously feel something for him if you’re telling me about his eyelashes.” I laugh at that because she’s right. “I just don’t want you to take another six years to open your heart up again if he breaks it.”

“He said he would call me.” I cringe at how pathetic I sound.

Bonnie sighs, “I know. I wish I was there so I could kick his ass.” “You wouldn’t.”

“Get me a plane ticket and I’ll prove it to you.” I nearly drop the lid of my coffee cup to the floor from how aggressive she sounds. If it weren’t for the fact that I know that Bonnie is the sweetest person on this planet and would never hurt a fly, I would have believed her. “I’m sure you would.”

“Don’t you have to go now?”, she asks, effectively changing the topic. And looking at the time, she is again, absolutely right. I should’ve been out the door three minutes ago.

“Shit!”, I curse. “Ok, bye Bon. I love you.” I blow her a kiss and press the red hang-up button once she’s said goodbye too.

Practically ripping my coat off the hook, I stuff my feet into my black converse, figuring I’ll tie them later as the bottom of my black, mom jeans cover the tops of the shoes. Sliding my purse over my shoulder, coat folded over my forearm and tucked to my stomach as I close the door to my apartment behind me.

Once I’m sure the door is locked, checking the handle two times, I jog down the dark, dirty green carpeted floor of the hallway where the same carpet covers the steps of the staircase the next two floors down.

The chilly, autumn wind hits my face, and hands the seconds I push open the tired, wooden front door to my apartment complex. The wind even seeps through the thin material of the white cotton shirt I put on under my favourite chocolate brown and beige sweater vest.

Thankfully, my car is parked just on the other side of the road.

I had hoped that the twenty-minute drive to the school would give me enough time to get my head sorted and a certain someone out of it. And it worked until one of his fucking songs started playing.

It had completely slipped my mind that they were on the playlist I was listening to.

The urge I’d had to cry the second his voice seeped into my ears and made every cell in my body vibrate with the allure and grace he sang with isn’t ok. It’s like he put his own special kind of magic into every single note. Every lyric.

The same kind of magic that laced every kiss and every touch he laid on my skin.

It’s that magic that’s been haunting me.

This whole day, I haven’t been able to think about anything else. My mind hasn’t been on my pupils like it should, but on him and the magic he made me feel.

Thank God, they were all angels today and worked on their essays like they were supposed to and talked quietly amongst themselves.

During fourth period I found myself wondering what kind of student Harry was.

Was he the quiet, studious type who kept to himself or was he the one who always raised his hand? Maybe he was the kid that would always try to make everyone laugh. Did he get good grades or was he barely scraping by? The only thing I’m sure about is that there is no way he was a bully.

The possibility of that is as big as the possibility of me becoming a mega-rich actress tomorrow. Less than one percent.

I don’t know if it’s the fact that Harry is the first man I’ve been with who has been truly good that has me in such a twist over him. But it could definitely be a factor in my current struggle.

As I twist the key in the ignition, turning the car on after finishing up everything I needed to do at school, I wonder whether I hate it or just strongly dislike it.

I’m going to need longer than twenty minutes to figure that out.

Harry

“I think I fucked up, mate.”

Sprawled on top of my unmade bed with my eyes trained on the white ceiling and my phone by my ear, I wait for the ‘No you didn’t, don’t be stupid.’ But it doesn’t come.

“Um.”, Mitch starts. “Fucked up what?”

Right. I’ve only walked around thinking about it constantly like a psychopath for three weeks without saying a word about it to anyone.

That would have defeated the purpose of this whole thing.

But now I’m at the point where I can’t even remember why I decided to do this in the first place.

“Remember that girl I told you about?”, I ask, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

“The one from the plane? Amber, was it?”

I shouldn’t automatically smile at the mention of her name. But there is no denying that she has a beautiful one. Nowhere near as beautiful as she is, but beautiful nonetheless. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“What did you do now?” I haven’t even told him what I think I fucked up, and he sounds done with me already.

Before I open my mouth, I take a second to gather my thoughts. “I don’t even know why I did it anymore. It was going really well. She was everything I ever fucking dreamed of. Man, her laugh did things to me. And just the way she spoke about her students. You can tell that she truly cares about those kids.”

I remember when I’d asked her about her job, she had spoken so passionately about it. But the thing that stood out to me was that she the first thing she spoke about wasn’t what she got out of it or why she loved it specifically. No. She went on about how bright the kids truly are and went into detail about them individually. I’m not even sure how long I listened to her talk about these kids I hadn’t even met. But I would have happily done it for hours just to see the way her eyes shone.

But for Mitch’s sake, I skip over all of that and get to the part where I probably blew it.

“Like, three weeks ago. I fell asleep at her place even though I knew I was going to the studio early the next morning. I stayed as long as I could. Then left a note saying I would call her. And I was going to.”

I pause and my stomach twists painfully with guilt. Now that I’m about to admit it out loud, makes me truly realize how fucking shitty this was.

“You didn’t call her, did you?” Mitch guesses, tone neutral. Even though I don’t deserve it, I’m thankful that he isn’t judging me.

“I didn’t.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, but he still hears it. “Harry.”

“I know. I’m a fucking dick.”, I mutter, hiding my face in my hands as if that’s going to make it better. It doesn’t.

“Ok, H.”, Mitch starts. “Whether you take my advice or not is up to you.”

I hum in agreement; the sound muffled my hands.

“You’re being fucking stupid. I know you’re crazy about her. You know it even if you don’t want to admit it. Amber sounds like a great person. Do you really want to let her slip away before you’ve given it a real shot because of what? You’re scared?”

He hit the nail on the head.

“Because I don’t think you do. And it’s not like you to not do something because you’re scared of the consequences.”

“What if she doesn’t want to?” For a second, I’m not even sure if he heard me and I am fighting the urge to hang up and never leave my house and talk to another soul for the rest of my life.

“Then it’s going to hurt. But at least you’ll know. And you won’t have to wonder for the rest of your life.”

“I should have called you earlier.”, I laugh, mentally slapping myself for having been so stupid.

Mitch snorts, “Yeah you should have. Now if you don’t go try and make it right, I will personally beat your ass black and blue. Understood?”

Unable to tell whether he is being serious or not, I sit up straight, saluting even though he can’t see me. “Yes sir.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been as nervous as I am right now.

Sitting on the hard, green carpet with my back against the wall and my knees tucked to my chest. Arms around them and my head tilted back as I study the different patterns in the wooden door in front of me to keep my mind occupied.

I’m worried if I think too hard about what I’m about to do, I will chicken out and drive right back home.

My palms are clammy, and I swear I haven’t been able to take a full breath since I put on my shoes almost three hours ago.

In an attempt to not seem like a stalker, I had left the house so I would be here at half past five. And I was. Amber is usually finished with work and safe home by five.

Apparently not today.

I started on the steps outside. Then it got a bit too cold and I rang the bell of a random person and said I was pizza delivery so they would buzz me in. It worked on the fourth try. Since then I’ve switched between pacing the length of the hallway and sitting just like I am right now.

This might have been one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had.

Not counting the one that put me in this position in the first place.

Just thinking back to it makes me want to rip my own hair out now that I’ve realized just how fucking idiotic I was.

Who in their right mind finds that one person it feels like you’ve known your whole life, and when the realization dawns on them, they ghost them for three weeks? And for what? Fear of that person maybe not feeling the same way? Falling too far too fast?

If I could do it all over, I would jump without a parachute for the chance that she might end up being the wings beneath my wings that make me fly.

Which is kind of what I’m trying to do right now.

“What are you doing here?”

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear her voice. That voice I’ve replayed a thousand times over in my head as if it was my favourite record.

She’s standing right in front of me. I hadn’t even noticed she was there or that I had closed my eyes, too far in my own head.

Carefully, I open one eye followed by the other. And I swear the sight in front of me has my heart beating out of my chest with excitement and my throat going dry with dread.

Pulling a smile, I wave up at her. “Hi.”

Amber

Never underestimate what a nice, long drive and a bar of your favourite chocolate can do.

After leaving work, I’d decided that I would give myself one more day to think about him. Then I’d be done. I would put that behind me. Leave it in my rearview mirror. Harry would be a short chapter in my life. Wonderful and magical. But finished.

There were tears shed and another phone call made to Bonnie for some very badly needed encouragement and reminding that I don’t need a man to be happy.

I’m not even sure about how long I’ve been out, but it’s dark by the time I hear the sound of my car locking as I sling my purse over my shoulder. I can feel the fatigue settling in my bones from the day and I am so looking forward to cuddling up with my mountain of pillows and putting on some mindless show with ice cream until I fall asleep.

The second my eyes lock on the figure by my door, I’m suddenly wide awake again. The tiredness vanished like it was never even there as I’m stopping in my tracks.

I’d recognize him anywhere.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”, I mutter under my breath. This has got to be some fucking cosmic joke the universe is playing on me.

Of course, he would show up just when I decided that I was done. That I was going to let it be and move on with my life.

This is great.

Harry has his head on his knees, arms around his shins tucked to his torso. His hair is messy. Like he either hasn’t styled it today or ran his hand through it a billion times the way he does when he’s stressed or nervous.

His fingers are void of any of the usual rings that adorn them. From what I can tell, his nails are painted black now and he’s dressed in a pair of light-washed, ripped jeans and a mint green cardigan.

By the time it’s taken me to slowly make my way over to him, stopping right in front of him, he still hasn’t moved a muscle or done anything that shows that he’s aware of the fact that he’s not alone in the hallway anymore.

I find myself wondering how long he’s been sitting out here like this. Why he’s even here? I ask him the latter, hating how small I sound, “What are you doing here?”

Slowly, he drops his arms down to his side and cranes his head until our eyes meet and I can practically see the wheels in his head turning. It’s making the crease between his eyebrows deepen further in thought before he offers me a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hi.”

I’m not sure why, but that short hi makes me take a step back, a pang of hurt hitting my chest. But it also makes me extremely frustrated.

“Hi, Harry.”, I say, stepping around him to unlock my door, not even making an attempt to mask the anger I’m feeling right now. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He scrambles to get to his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets with an unsure look on his face. “I just wanted to…”, he trails off, voice dying out as if he doesn’t know what comes next.

“Did you come back here just to lie to me again?” I hope he doesn’t notice the crack of emotion, my throat tight as I push open the front door to my apartment.

Taking a deep breath to ground myself, which is easier said than done since I can practically feel his eyes burning a hole into to side of my head. I turn to meet his eye, hoping that he can’t tell how much I want to cry from the look on my face right now as I ignore the look of distress on his. “If that’s the case, then please just leave.”

I fully expect him to turn on his heel and leave. Or maybe he realised he forgot some things here that he wants to pick up. And that’s why he came. Then he’ll leave right after he’s got it.

That’s more likely, to be honest.

To my surprise, Harry lets out a sudden, humourless laugh. One that I’ve never heard from him. Then he shimmies himself between my body and the doorframe and into my apartment.

The strong whiff of his smell that hits my nose almost has me dizzy for a second before I shake my head and follow him.

Confusion takes over when Harry plops down on the edge of the beige sofa after kicking off his shoes without saying a word, his right foot tapping rapidly against the rug as he fiddles with his fingers where his rings usually are.

So…he isn’t here to pick something up?

Observing him carefully, I hang up my coat and take off my shoes, placing them neatly in their designated spot as the anger and hurt dim with the confusion that’s taking their place.

My apartment might not be much, but I keep it tidy.

Harry’s silence and nervous fiddling are making me more and more nervous the longer it goes on and I wish he would just spit out what he so obviously has on his mind.

“Can you please sit?”, is the first thing he eventually says. And he says it so softly he doesn’t sound like himself.

I’d had no idea what he was going to open with, but it for sure wasn’t that. Still, I quietly pad across my living room, sitting down on the sofa with the space of one person between us. My hands stay folded in my lap as I pinch the skin of my clammy palm, looking anywhere but him.

This is not ice cream and Netflix, that’s for sure.

“How have you been?” “Fine.”, I reply automatically, “And you?”

“A dick.” He says it so matter-of-factly and quickly it catches me by surprise and I can’t stop myself from peeking over at him. He’s not wrong.

When I don’t say anything he continues, his eyes boring into mine “I told you I would call you. In that note I left you. And I swear I meant to. And then I didn’t. And I fully understand if you never want to see my face again.”

“Why? If you didn’t have time for me or didn’t want to keep seeing me, then sure. But why the fuck didn’t you just tell me to my face that you didn’t want anything to do with me? Or at least send a fucking text.” I’m breathing harder by the time I’m done talking. But I swear it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders now that the question I’ve been wanting to ask him is finally out of my mouth.

Harry’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, looking like my words hit him like a ton of bricks. The way his shoulders deflated and the deep frown that settled on his face as his eyes glosses over.

And just like that the anger is back and I stand up suddenly, “You know what. I don’t want to know. Just please leave.” I point to my front door to further my point, ignoring the burning at the back of my eyes, keeping my face as hard as I possibly can. Somehow seeing him seeming so torn up over this makes it hurt all the more.

“No.”, Harry shakes his head firmly as he gets to his feet as well. That’s the first thing he’s done since I saw him today that hasn’t seemed riddled with nerves. “Let me explain.”

He takes my silence as an invitation to speak.

“I fully intended on calling you.” He takes a step forward, making me crane my neck slightly to maintain eye contact, searching his for any hint of untruthfulness. “And god did I want to. I wanted to hear that sweet fucking voice of yours more than you understand.”

“Then why didn’t you?”, I ask, hating how small I sound.

“Because I got fucking scared.” Harry takes another step, now so close that his cologne infiltrates my senses again.

I feel my jaw drop in surprise at his confession. But it doesn’t stay like that for long because Harry gently pushes it back up with his pointer finger on my chin. It’s like a jolt of electricity shoots out of his fingertip and travels through my whole body, making my heartbeat pick up and my breathing shallows at his touch.

Harry answers the question I had on the tip of my tongue before I get the chance to ask it, “I know this probably makes me more of a dick. But the way you make me feel, Ambs? It’s so exhilarating and wonderful and safe all at the same time. And that’s what makes it so damn terrifying.”

My eyes round in question as I tilt my head to the side, “Why didn’t you just tell me this instead of disappearing?”

“Because I was drowning when I met you. And I swear you took my hand and pulled me right up. I could finally breathe again. It felt like if my fears were true and you didn’t want me like I want you, I’d be thrown right off into the deep end again.”

Completely speechless at his honesty, my eyes flick between his as emotion builds in my throat again. My face is no doubt beet red. The only thing I manage to squeeze out is, “No wonder you write songs for a living.”

Harry laughs, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and I swear my heart jumps at the melodic sound. “I’m also a certified comedian.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh, turning my head to the side so I won’t snort straight into his face, my hand coming up to muffle the sound. There is no way in hell that’s true. Unless he paid someone to give him some paper that says he’s the funniest man in the business.

Immediately, Harry swats my hands away, turning my head right back with his hands now cupping both sides of my neck.

“Don’t hide from me.” It’s more of a demand than a request. I can’t even argue when he juts his bottom lip out in a pout, making his eyes round and big. His lashes are dark and long, contrasting with his pale green irises.

Tucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I fiddle with the button of his cardigan just below his chest absentmindedly.

My head tilts down, so I won’t have to look him in the eye. Now that I’m focusing on the individual stitches of his cardigan, I ask him nervously, “So you like me?”

When he doesn’t answer, I feel panic starting to bubble in my chest. My head screams that I fucked up and took everything he said the wrong way as I feel tears starting to form when he lets go of my neck. The puffs of air that fans over my forehead make my shame grow to the point where I wish for the ground to swallow me whole.

With embarrassment ringing in my ears, I go to take a step back so I’m out of his space, not even daring to look at his face. Too scared of what I’d find. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what I-”

I’m cut off by his lips crashing against mine with a force I haven’t felt before, his hands right back where they were before, stopping me from even taking one step as my eyes widen in surprise. Then I’m melting into the kiss, wringing the soft material of his cardigan in my fists as I kiss him back.

Every single worry in my mind went silent the second he kissed me and now it’s calm. The same way the world quiets once your head is submerged in water and all you can hear is the serene sound of the water dancing beautifully around you.

If Harry is magic, then his kiss is a spell that I would let him cast over me for the rest of my days.

“Does that answer your question?”, he asks, lips brushing against mine as he talks while his thumbs stroking my cheeks.

Our noses bump when I nod and I feel him smile against my lips.

Neither of us says anything. else for I don’t know how long. I can feel my heartbeat underneath his hands as I keep my hold on his cardigan, his chest pushing against my knuckles every time it expands. Our breaths mix in the millimetres of space between us.

All I want to do is kiss him.

The more time passes the harder my heart beats and the more the need to feel his lips on mine again grows.

At the same time, after going for three weeks without as much as laying my eyes on him. So as torturous as being so close to, and not kissing him is, I still bask in his presence. His smell and his touch. The feeling of stardust still lingering on my lips that I so desperately want to mould with his.

“I like your cardigan.”, I whisper, flattening my hands against his firm chest.

Harry sucks in a quick breath before I feel him smile against my lips. He drops his left hand to where mine are, wrapping his fingers around my wrist as he presses my hand firmer against his chest. “It’s yours.”, he confesses, tilting his head so our foreheads are aligned.

My eyes fly open as I look at him with wide eyes, pulling my face away from his. “No way! You stole my cardigan?”

He grins so wide that his eyes crinkle, completely contradicting the nonchalant shrug he gives, “Doesn’t seem like you missed it too much if you didn’t even realise it was yours.”

“Oh, shut up.”, I roll my eyes, pushing at his chest.

Without budging, he drops his hand from my wrist to my waist pulling my body flush against his. He keeps me there, splaying both his hands over the small of my back, that same blinding smile lighting up the room. “I look good in it though, don’t I?”

My arms loop around his neck, back arching as I giggle, “So much better than me.”

His smile drops, looking downright offended. “No. Absolutely not.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off before I get the chance to. “Don’t say that shit about yourself! You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. Just having you in my arms makes me the luckiest fucking man alive.”

At a loss for words, I blink rapidly before I grip his hair with my fingers as I stand up on my tiptoes to bring him into a kiss, hoping that understands.

Everything feels right the second his mouth is on mine.

Harry groans into the kiss, his hand sliding up my back as it arches more, a shiver travelling down my spine.

Keeping my body as close as possible to his, chest to chest, Harry doesn’t take long before he switches up in a way that makes my head spin.

The soft, tender kisses left behind as he slides his tongue over my bottom lip, asking for access. There was no need for coaxing. I grant it without question, feeling heat creeping through my body at the way he teases his tongue alone mine.

Dipping my own tongue into his mouth in return, running it along his teeth elicits a groan from his throat that has my thighs squeezing together.

That moment when he switches from kissing me softly to robbing my lungs of air with deep, hot kisses never fails to make me absolutely weak in the knees.

He drops his hand to my ass, squeezing the flesh in his palm as his mouth becomes hungrier, as do my own. I tug at his hair. Hard. Eliciting a groan from the back of his throat that has me smirking against his mouth at his reaction. I don’t get to gloat for long, because Harry suddenly turns around and sits down on the sofa, not disconnecting our mouths for a second. I follow him blindly. As if I would die if his lips weren’t on mine for one mere moment.

My thighs are on either side of his and all I can taste is his mouth on mine. All I can feel are his hands roaming my body and his soft, pillowy lips. All I can smell is his musky cologne and the warm scent of his shampoo. It’s all him. There isn’t one cell in my being that hasn’t been touched by him.

I’m not sure if I’m dizzy from the lack of oxygen or the way he is kissing me so deeply, but if I died right now, I would die a happy fucking woman.

As if he knew exactly what was going through my head, Harry gives my lips one final peck before he’s nudging me to tilt my head up and to the side with his nose for better access. He leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw until he reaches the spot on my neck that’s just below it.

I can’t help the loud gasp I let out at the sensation when he alternated between sucking, licking and nipping at the skin of my neck and throat. He keeps at it until I’m squirming in his lap, throbbing with need.

Right now, I can’t even find it in me to care that my neck is most likely going to be littered with love bites in the morning.

Harry drops his hands to my hips, dragging them forward so I’m sitting right on top of his bulge, both of us gasping at the contact. I can feel him hardening through the material of our clothes, and it’s making a new wave of desire fly through my nervous system.

His head falls to my chest when I roll my hips forward experimentally. The whimper he lets out spurs me to keep doing it.

“Can I take off your shirt?”, he asks, his cheeks flush with red as he looks up at me. His hair messily lays over his forehead. The sweat that’s started accumulating on his skin makes it stick to his temples.

In this moment, Harry could ask me to jump off a roof and I’d ask if he wanted me to do a flip too.

“Please.”, I practically whine, brushing his hair out of his face before laying a tender kiss to the space between his eyebrows. His eyes flutter close for a second at the affection and I swear I could scream from the butterflies in my tummy.

Harry kisses the tip of my nose just as he drags both my sweater vest and shirt up my body. I lift my arms to help, left in only my bra as he discards my clothes somewhere. Eyes locked with mine, his fingers drag down my sides slowly in a way that has a shiver going down my spine.

When he does let his eyes wander, I don’t feel a hint of uncertainty or insecurity. All because of what Harry says under his breath; “Jesus fuck, you’ll be the death of me.”

“Maybe I should cover up then.”, I sing song, pretending like I’m about to go looking for my shirt again. But Harry is having none of that, gripping my hips and planting me right back down in his lap. “Fuck no.”, he says, guiding my hips to grind against his again, “I’d drop dead right now as long as I got to feel you.”

My breath quickens with the stimulation I’m getting from the way he drags my core against his solid erection. “it’s not really fair that I’m the only one topless, now, is it?”

The faintest smirk spreads on his face when I undo the two buttons on his cardigan, the simple white t-shirt he is wearing underneath revealing itself as he shrugs the cardigan off, throwing it over his shoulder. And God does that t-shirt look good on him.

It hugs him in all the right places, tight around his biceps and just sheer enough to be able to see the silhouettes of his tattoos through it.

Harry lets me take my time admiring him with his t-shirt on before I decide it’s time to rid him of that too, lifting his arms to help me get it off. “You feel better now?”, he asks with a laugh.

I just nod, unable to take my eyes off the artwork that is his body. It doesn’t matter that I’ve seen him before. His soft, golden skin stretches across his toned, defined muscles. Dark ink decorates his skin so perfectly. Soft hairs scattered over his broad chest so deliciously. The ferns tattoos that are partly hidden by his jeans have my mouth watering. Every dip and curve of his body is perfection and I have the urge to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

I don’t realise that I’ve just been frozen, staring at him until I feel Harry pinch my side lightly, amusement evident in his voice, “Are you ok, baby?”

“Mhm.”, I hum, sliding my hand tantalisingly down the front of his body, his stomach sucking in with the sharp breath he takes. “Wanna know what would make it even better?”

“What?”

Harry swallows hard when I dip my finger just underneath the waistband of his jeans, leaning forward so the side of my face is aligned with his, his hands tightening on my hips when I tilt my head, lightly kissing and nipping at his earlobe.

“Your cock down my throat.”, I whisper in his ear as if I was telling him my darkest secret, gracing my fingertips over the bulge in his jeans.

He drops his forehead to my shoulder with a groan sounding so wound up I can’t help but laugh, earning myself a smack on the ass. “It’s not funny.”, Harry grumbles.

“Do you want to whine about that, or do you want me to give you head?”, I ask after placing a kiss on the top of his head.

It’s almost comical how fast he straightens up, his eyes darting between mine. “Please.”

Shocked at how fast he got to the state of saying, please, I still decide to not make it too easy on him. “Please what?”, I ask as I start leaving open-mouthed, hot kisses down his jaw, latching onto the sensitive spot just below his jaw while palming him through his jeans.

Harry tilts his head, his chest rising faster than before. “Please touch me.”

“Now that wasn’t, so hard, was it?” I pull away from his neck with a pleased smirk on my face, I brush the pad of my thumb across his bottom lip, nearly losing my composure when Harry wraps his lips around my finger, holding it in place with his teeth as he sucks on it.

But I regain it fast enough, patting his cheek when he releases my thumb with a pop. I can tell that he has something to say, but he bites his tongue. Probably so I will give him what he needs. Which is exactly what I’m gonna do.

Sliding off his lap and settling myself on my knees between his spread thighs. I leave a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses all the way from the base of his throat to the fern tattoos that lead right where he needs me the most.

Glancing up at him, the look on his face gives me a large confidence boost. Swollen, red lips and his delicate features hardened with lust and impatience. The way his chin is tucked against his chest, his eyes locked on me as if he would doesn’t want to miss a single move I make. His breath falters when I begin unbuckling his belt, licking his lips in anticipation.

If it weren’t for the fact that I don’t have a shred of patience left in my body, I would’ve dragged this out much longer.

Harry lifts his hips to help me get off both his jeans and his underwear in one go, his body sagging with relief once he springs free. I scoot a little bit away to allow him to kick them and his socks off his feet before I shuffle back, sitting on the back of my heels.

And God does he look heavenly. Love bites are already starting to form in the path I took down his body. His hair a mess and his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. His cock is resting against his stomach. Fully hard, almost to the point where it looks painful.

My mouth waters at the sight of him.

I look back up at him, about to open my mouth. But he seems to have read my mind, “Just touch me? I’m dying. Please.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice.

I spit in my hand before I wrap it around him, using my spit as lubrication as I teasingly pump his solid length. The second I touch him his abdominal muscles tense and his hands curl into fists. It’s when I twist my hand around the head of his cock that his mouth parts, “Fuck that feels good.”

Without stopping what I’m doing with my hand, I kiss the soft skin of his inner thighs, the muscles tensing in response when I leave a love bite on the sensitive skin. Harry tucks my hair behind my ear, directing my attention back to his face where he’s got a dazed look in his eyes.

Like I did to him, he traces my lips with his fingers, eyes hooded as he twitches in my hand.

Leaning forward, I take his tip into my mouth, giving it a gentle suck after tracing the prominent vein with my tongue. Harry moans a praise when I take more of him into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks as I work the head of his cock with my mouth and tongue.

Pulling back momentarily, I gather my spit in the front of my mouth before I let it drop the short distance. He hisses as the glob of saliva makes contact with his sensitive tip before we both watch it drip down the side of his length, leaving a shiny trail in its wake.

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”, Harry breathes out when I take him in my mouth again, this time going further. I hum, the vibrations from it have his jaw going slack as his muscles tense. His hands pull my hair out of my face, gathering it in a ponytail as I bob my head up and down his dick. I use my hand to jerk off what I don’t have in my mouth, his velvety skin wet with my spit.

When Harry’s hips start to thrust up to meet my mouth on their own accord, the broken moans spilling from him, I take a second to prepare myself before I take him all the way, my eyes watering as he curves down my throat and my nose brushes against his pelvis. “Oh, fuck.”, he curses, fingers tightening in my hair making me whine at the sting. “That’s it. Such a good girl, oh my god.”

I let him take the lead, moving my head with the grip on my hair to meet his thrusts as he fucks my mouth just how he wants. The head of his cock hits the back of my throat each time, spit dribbling down my chin.

Looking up at him through my lashes. I would happily die like this if it meant I’d go out being the reason for his pleasure.

The sweat glistening and reflecting the light has him looking otherworldly. His face and neck are flush with colour. Ragged breaths, whimpers and moans escape his strained throat as he gets closer and closer to reaching his orgasm.

Locking eyes with him, the corners of his lips quirk up in a blissed-out smile that’s quickly wiped off when I swallow around him, his head falling back and his abs quiver. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. If you don’t want-”

I cut off his warning, bobbing my head without his prompt to tell him that I want him to. After that, it doesn’t take long for him to reach his climax.

And when he does, it’s with a shout of my name on his tongue.

His thighs and abdominal muscles shake, moans and whimpers spilling from him like I’ve never heard before. Spurts of hot, salty cum shoot from his dick and I swallow everything, helping him through his high.

Harry is panting slightly when he comes down, eyes still hazy. “You feeling ok, baby?”, I check as I get off my now sore knees and sit down next to him, body facing his.

“I’m fucking great.” A lazy grin graces his beautiful face. His kind, eyes twinkle as they meet mine. “You’re bloody amazing. You know that?”

I raise an eyebrow but can’t help but match his smile, “Am I amazing or are you just in another world right now?”

“Why can’t it be both?”, he shrugs, laying a kiss on my bare shoulder.

Giggling, I press my lips to the top of his head, “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”, Harry pouts as he looks up at me, his face still holding an ethereal glow that has me wanting to smother every inch of it in kisses and affection.

I twirl a longer strand of his hair around my finger before tucking it behind his hair. “It’s quite the opposite. I love that you’re yourself so unapologetically.”

When I notice Harry’s eyes gloss over momentarily, I worry that I said something wrong. But before I get to ask what’s wrong, he grabs my face in his hands and kisses me. Long and hard, his nose squishing against my cheek before he pulls away momentarily. He then moulds our lips together softly one, two three times. So tenderly and delicately I almost can’t bear it.

Brushing his nose with mine, Harry whispers against my lips, “I wanna make you feel good.” If my heart wasn’t beating fast before, it definitely is now.

“Will you let me?” He kisses the corner of my mouth and I feel his hand move to my thigh. His other hand hovers just over the clasp of my bra as he makes his mouth busy kissing down my jaw.

“Yes, please.”, I say, nodding feverishly not even caring how desperate I probably sound.

He laughs fondly, pressing a kiss to my nose as he undoes my bra with expertise. “Tell me what you want, and you’ve got it, my eager girl.”

Trailing my finger up his back, I bite my lip to keep my smile at bay. “Anything?”

Harry carelessly throws my bra to the side, placing a kiss between my breasts. “Anything.” Hand creeping further up my thigh, my legs spreading on their own. “Do you want my hands?”

“Yes.” If he doesn’t touch me soon, I feel like I might die from the burning ache between my legs. And it only gets worse and better all at the same time when he wraps his lips around my sensitive nipple, his warm, wet tongue flicking over it. I can’t help but throw my head back with a whine.

Snaking his hand from my back, gracing the underside of my boob. It has my spine curving, chest pushed out further and Harry hums, seeming pleased with my reaction. He switches to suck on my other nipple, leaving a trail of affection between the two.

The attention to my breasts only has the need to feel himself somewhere else growing by the second.

And does he fucking know it.

Harry looks up at me, his eyes narrowing as he smiles at me in satisfaction. “Do you want my mouth?”, he asks, batting his eyelashes at me as if he were innocent. He is anything but. “Maybe both?”

Cupping his face, I say in the most serious tone I can muster at the moment; “If you don’t stop teasing, I’m gonna fucking do it myself.”

“Oh well, then.”, Harry chuckles, getting down on his knees before me, undoing my jeans before tapping my hips. “Let’s take these off, shall we?” Not wasting a moment, I lift my hips as I help him wiggle them off along with my panties, leaving me fully naked and exposed.

“So fucking beautiful.” Harry drags his eyes over my body, seeming to take in every curve and dip like he’s admiring his favourite view. The crushing vulnerability and lack of uncertainty he seems to instil in me in moments like these can only be described as intoxicating. Leaving me with a mind centred around him and him alone.

Gentle touches and kisses that are meant to be of adoration, but they have the pit of desire and arousal in my stomach near unbearable.

Wrapping his arms around the backs of my thighs, Harry drapes my legs over his shoulders, making my body slide further down on the sofa. I can feel his breath fanning over my soaked cunt and it’s sending shivers down my spine.

Catching his eye, Harry maintains eye contact as he drags his tongue through my folds, painfully slow. The vibration of his hum has my breath caught in my throat as I lace my fingers through his locks.

When he teasingly licks at my clit, a whine leaves my lips. A whine that turns into a moan when he suddenly sucks the bundle of nerves into his warm mouth, caressing it with his tongue at the same time.

The way he is alternating between licks and kisses that are barely there and the eye-crossing, powerful motions has reduced me to a panting, moaning mess before I even know it. My skin feels like it’s on fire, sweat making my hair stick to the side of my face and neck. Sounds of pleasure come out with no care.

It’s like the rest of the world has faded away and I’m hyperaware of every touch from Harry.

His strong, muscled arms wrapped around my thighs. The way they squeeze around my upper thigh. One hand on my thigh and the other on my hip. How warm his palms are and the way the hand on my hip is inching closer and closer to my pussy where he is eating me out like he’s a starving man. The slight stubble on his face brings that slight sting along with the little nibbles from his teeth that only make that feeling of ecstasy grow stronger and more powerful.

Deep moans and hums against my nerves that have me throwing my head back, my own fingers pulling his soft, damp curls tighter. That same head of hair brushes against the skin of my inner thighs.

Mindless praises fly from my mouth, messy and intelligible. Not that he seems to mind. With each choked word of encouragement, he gets just a little bit more eager.

I force myself to peel my eyes open, needing to see him.

There is something about taking in the man on his knees between my legs. So attentive to my reaction to everything he does. His pinkie finger barely brushes the fleshy skin of my hip and he doesn’t seem like he would rather be anywhere in the world but right where he is. And even though he is literally eating me out like a thirsting man, I realise it’s not close enough.

I can’t keep the tears from falling when I do from the pleasure and the surge of emotions that has a pathetic sob erupting from my chest. The second he hears it, his eyes fly open, and he stops immediately.

Concern laces his features as he takes in the tears rolling down my cheeks. “Darling, what’s wrong?” He lets go of my thighs, both sliding off his broad shoulders as he shuffles to get up from his knees.

The intense, overwhelming fire of pleasure fizzles out but I can’t even find it in me to care. All I want is him as close as humanly possible.

“Need you.”, is all I manage to croak out, nuzzling into his hand when he cradles my face. Harry swipes my tears away with the pads of his thumbs, only for more to fall as he tilts his head in confusion. “I’m right here, baby.”

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself down, I press a quick kiss to the inside of his wrist, my hand wrapped around his forearm to keep his just where they are. The smell of his skin filtering through my nostrils soothes me as his voice does. Enough to take a deep breath and allow my heart to slow down.

“I need you inside of me.”

“Oh.”, his mouth forms into a small o-shape before it morphs into a smile that matches the crinkles by his eyes. “Are you sure?”

I nod fervently, mirroring his grin.

“What my girl wants, she gets.” Harry pecks my lips, my eyes fluttering close as I hum against his lips, elongating the kiss with a hand switching to the back of his neck to keep him in place as I trace his bottom lip with my tongue.

The taste of myself on his lips makes my stomach twist in desire and need, gripping his hair tighter when Harry suddenly manoeuvres me around so my back hits the cushion of the sofa and my head falls into the throw pillows stacked at the corner. His lips are quick to find mine again, moulding together in lust and passion. His hips drop against mine and I cross my ankles against the back of his thighs. My left thigh is slightly squeezed between his body and the back of the sofa.

I gasp at the shock of pleasure that goes through my system when he shifts his hips, his rock-solid cock rubbing against my sensitive folds, no doubt soaked by my arousal. Needing to feel feeling again, I buck my hips up against his, jaw dropping when Harry meets my movement with a whine against my mouth.

“Baby, please.”, I beg again. It almost hurts to be so close to where I need to be but still not quite there.

With one last kiss to my lips, Harry shifts all his weight to his right elbow tilting his body to the side as he positions the head of his cock right at my entrance. “You ready?”, he asks, searching my eyes for any sign that I’m not.

The second he has the ok to, he pushes in slowly, eyes locked on my face the entire time as mine threaten to close. “Oh my- Fuck.”, I pant.

The overwhelming stretch of him followed by the pleasure that only grows the further he sinks inside me is a feeling I am never going to get tired of. Neither is the look of concentration and bliss etched on Harry’s face. His pretty lips parts with a soft moan as his eyebrows pinches together.

This is what I needed. To be as close to him as physically possible. My hot and sweaty skin ismflush against his. The way his grip on my thigh gets harder momentarily when I clench around him unintentionally. Our noses nearly touch from how close our faces are. Every single one of my senses centred around him.

Once he’s all the way in, tip nudged against my g-spot deliciously, his now glossy eyes dart between mine. I can practically see the wheels churning in his head as he lands on the words he utters so quietly it’s as if he’s telling me something sacred and just for us. “Missed you so much.”

My throat tightens with emotion, and I can once again feel my waterline overflow with salty tears as I tuck my bottom lip into my mouth. “I missed you too.”

I really, really did. But I don’t want to think about that right now.

He seems to catch on because instead of saying anything else, he draws his hips back until just the tip of him is left before he pushes in to the hilt again. He puts more and more force behind each thrust every time until he finds the one that has me clutching onto his shoulders, nails no doubt digging into his warm skin.

Moans fall freely from my lips as my eyes fall shut. Harry drops his forehead to mine when I move my hips to meet his. “Fuck me. You’re doing so fucking good for me.”, he pants.

Before long, I’m right back at the point I was before. A ball of tightknit pleasure in the pit of my stomach that makes my body tingle in anticipation. The wet sounds of mine and Harry’s arousal mixed with skin slapping against skin are filthy and only push me closer and closer to my high.

I can feel myself clenching and unclenching around Harry’s cock as he keeps his thrusts the same steady pace.

He connects his lips with mine again although neither of us can concentrate on keeping it anything but messy. One particularly well-angled thrust has my jaw nearly dropping to my chest and my eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as it hits my g-spot perfectly.

“Right there.”, I gasp, burying the back of my head further into the pillows, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes and down the sides of my face. “I’m so fucking close.”

Harry keeps his thrusts exactly the same, murmuring praises and encouraging words in my ear. The warm air from his breath fans across my neck and when he latches onto the damp skin, suctioning it hard before he glides his tongue over it, it’s the final push I need before I’m finishing.

My eyes roll into the back of my head as ecstasy rushes through every nerve ending in my body. My heartbeat is pounding in my ears as I feel myself hold onto Harry like my life depends on it. And he doesn’t stop either.

He keeps working me through my high with increasingly sloppy strokes of his hips. His name is like a never-ending prayer as I finish out my trip to heaven. The sound of Harry’s moans like a distant symphony of angels.

At last, coming down from my climax, I’m having a weird sense of Deja-vu.

Weighed down entirely by Harry’s body like a big, warm blanket of safety and home. His arms are wrapped fully around my torso. His face tucked into the crook of my neck, hair sticking to our sweaty temples. A serene silence surrounds us and reflects in my own mind. Our hearts aligned both physically and metaphorically.

We’re in our own little bubble of post-orgasmic bliss and comfort.

Every so gently, I trace the shapes and dips of his back and shoulders with the tip of my fingers. Keeping my eyes closed I try to memorize this exact feeling. Mentally filling up bottle after bottle after bottle with it.

The delicate pucker of lips against the crook of my neck has my heart doing somersaults in my chest and a lazy grin spreading on my face.

“He’s alive.”, I whisper. “It’s a miracle.”

Soft melodic laughter reaches my ears shortly after I feel him laughing on top of me. Another kiss.

“Since when was I dead?” His voice is muffled but I can still understand him perfectly.

My hand drifts to the back of his neck, twirling his hair around my fingers. “One starts to wonder when you’re laying like the dead.”

Removing himself from my neck, he cranes his neck, making me tuck my chin down to look at his face.

Why does he look so good?

“You’re comfy and warm.”, he says matter-of-factly. Hair messy on his head and his face still has a flush of colour to it.

The instant pout his face adopts when I lightly pinch the flesh of his side is one I wish to frame and keep in my wallet. “Could say the same thing for you too.”

“Good.”, he smiles, seeming satisfied with my answer. He stuffs his face right back where it was, wiggling to get comfortable again.

The wiggle reminds me that he is still tucked inside of me, and I almost feel bad for what I’m about to do with how content Harry seems to just stay like this. “H, we gotta get up.” “Or we could just stay here.”, Harry hums, not moving a muscle.

“We’re gonna ruin my sofa if we do that.”, I explain, waiting patiently for him to connect the dots in that beautiful mind of his.

And when he does, he sighs. “I’m so tired.”

“We can take a bath, yeah?”, I suggest when he reluctantly lifts his head again, brushing back the hair that’s fallen over his forehead with my fingers. “Get all nice and clean. And if you want you can stay over?”

“That sounds nice.” He really does look tired.

Smiling softly, I place a short peck just where the faint shadow if his dimple is. “I’ll get it ready and you just relax, ok?”

“Yes ma’am.”, he grins, before pecking my cheek three times.

Unsticking his body from mine slowly but surely, he says sorry when as pulls out, kissing my shoulder apologetically at the same time. The sensitivity has me hissing through gritted teeth, but the second he’s out, I miss the feeling of being full of him.

Stupid, comfy sofa.

“I’ll be right back.”, I promise as he plops down on the sofa, pecking his cheek as I find both mine and his underwear on the floor where we discarded them earlier. Sliding my panties back on, I take the route behind the sofa on my way to the kitchen, dropping his next to him as I do.

I can feel his tired eyes on me as I shuffle around the kitchen, grabbing a large glass and filling it with water. I take a few sips of the cold, refreshing liquid before handing it to Harry.

He takes it with a grateful smile, “Thank you, baby.”

“You sure it tastes bad?”, Harry questions for the fourth time, the now lukewarm water splashing as he sticks his knee out of the water again. Shaking my head, I momentarily stop kneading his shoulders. “It’s soap, darling. Of course, it tastes bad.”

The top of his back is almost dry now from how long it’s been up from the water. A few droplets here and there drip from his hair down the nape of his neck before trailing down his strong back and into the water.

Why he is so insistent on knowing what my ‘fruit bowl’ body wash tastes like? I have no idea. But can’t say it isn’t nice to get this side of him again though.

Between the small talk we’ve made about everything and nothing and the body wash questions, my mind keeps drifting off to how only hours ago I thought I wouldn’t see any side of him again. Lavender oil and bath salts sadly aren’t a cure for worries and negative thoughts.

Worry that even though he said he regrets it, he is going to disappear again. That he’ll get spooked and be gone for good. It feels like right now is too good to be true.

It’s too good with him to be true.

I do believe that he meant it when he said that he likes me. I believe his reasoning for what happened. But I still can’t help the anxious pit in my stomach that he’ll be gone in the morning again like before. But I don’t want to drag down his good, relaxed mood and make it all serious and tense again.

For the time being I’m going to bask in the sunlight that is Harry. Regardless of the clouds thundering around inside my head.

I’m brought back to reality when Harry twists his upper body, the water splashing in small waves as he does. “It’s getting a bit cold.”

“It is.”, I agree. I honestly have no concept of just how long we’ve been submerged in water and lavender together. Harry makes it feel like time goes so fast while stopping at a standstill all at once.

But judging by the serious case of raisin hands we’re both sporting and the fact that I was half asleep at one point, I would say we’ve been here for long enough.

We rinse off in the shower wrapped up in each other’s arms while the bathtub drains. I have to physically take the fruit-scented body wash bottle from his hands as he kept saying he was going to squirt some in his mouth and swallow it.

We stand side by side, now wrapped in towels. Mine knotted over my chest and around my hair. His are low on his hips. Although he doesn’t really need it, he still chose to wrap his hair up in a towel claiming that I shouldn’t shame short-haired people when I asked him why he did it.

Harry looks how I feel right now. Like he could fall asleep standing upright.

Meeting his eyes in our reflection, I lean my tired body against his, smiling through my toothpaste when he slings his arm around my shoulders. “You feelin sleepy, Ambs?”

I nod, finishing up with my teeth so I can spit the toothpaste into the sink. After rolling water around in my mouth to rinse it out, I step aside to let harry do the same thing. He shouldn’t be able to make something so simple as rinsing the toothpaste out of his mouth look good.

An uncontainable, sleepy smile creeps up my face when he leans over me to reach the jar of moisturiser by the mirror. Something about how he unscrews the lid and scoops some out then applies it to his slightly tan face makes me all warm in my heart.

I didn’t realise I was just blankly staring at the side of his face until he suddenly twists his head, a shit-eating grin on his shiny face as he smears something chilly and moist across my forehead with the pad of his thumb. Humour and laughter in his tone as he says; “Simba.”

It takes me a few seconds to connect the dots. When I do, my head falls back in laughter.

“You fucking idiot.”, I shove at his chest, not even making Harry budge. My stomach is still tight with giggles and I know that my cheeks are making me look like a chipmunk from how wide my smile is.

Unphased by my insincere insult, Harry drags the product from my forehead down the bridge of my nose and across my cheeks with one finger before he switches to using both of his hands to massage the familiarly scented moisturiser into my skin. I let my eyes fall shut and enjoy the relaxing motions of his fingers, a blush spreading on my cheeks when he traces my lips. A whisper of “beautiful” reaches my ear as he does.

He is going to give me heart palpitations if he keeps going like this.

“What time do you think it is?”, I ask when I open my eyes, my heart beating a little bit faster when I catch his intense, moss-green eyes.

With his hands still holding my face, Harry kisses my forehead, making my heart skip a beat again before he says; “I think it’s time for us to go to bed.”

Nodding, I let my hands find his hips, smoothing my fingers over the supple skin. “I still have the clothes you left.”, I tell him, watching as his face softens entirely. “Oh. And you also left your guitar.”

“Surprised you didn’t burn them.”, Harry teases, his cheeks gaining a pink tint.

I shrug my shoulders. “If I burnt it, I couldn’t get rich selling everything on eBay, now could I?”

“is that all I am to you now, hm?”, he raises an eyebrow in question. “A way to make some easy money off my fans?” I can tell by the playful glint in his eye that he knows I’m not serious and is playing along.

Truth is that even if I never saw him again, I would probably keep the articles of clothing to myself to serve as a reminder that it was all real and not just a figment of my own imagination.

At least that’s what they’ve been over the past three weeks.

“I have a jar of your hair hidden in my closet.”, I add, relishing in the sunny glint in his eyes shining just as brightly as his smile. Harry shakes his head with a hearty laugh as he brushes up the tip of my nose with his finger. “Let’s get to bed, yeah?”

Agreeing, we make our way to the bedroom where I hand Harry the bag of his stuff that he’s left behind previously, landing a sweet kiss on his shoulder before I shuffle over to my closet.

Once I’ve slid a fresh pair of underwear up my legs, I grab the white beastie boys t-shirt I may or may not have adopted as my sleep shirt lately and pull it over my head. The fabric is soft and cool against my skin, ending just below my butt.

“Ok, I see how it is.”, I hear from behind me just before I feel a pair of arms snake around my waist from behind.

Leaning into the warmth of his body, my back against his front, I place my arms on top of his. “And how is that?” Harry hums in my ear, swaying us from side to side slowly and I can feel his heartbeat through the thin layer of cotton separating us.

“You give me grief about stealing your cardigan. Yet here you are in my clothes. Wanna explain that to me?”

“Are you sure you want me to?”, I ask, turning around in his arms. I loop mine around his neck, curving my spine so I can look at him. The half-smirk tugging at the left corner of his mouth has butterflies swarming my tummy.

When he nods confidently, I do just that. “Because it reminds me of you. And I realised I liked that. So why wouldn’t I wear it?”

Even in the dim lighting shining in from the hallway, I can see his cheeks turning a shade darker before moves his head closer. I can feel his breath against the shell of my ear as he speaks, “Can I tell you a secret?”

His voice is low and deep, so so close, and all I can do is nod my head once. My heart is beating hard against my ribs and I’m very aware of how his hands are locked at my lower back.

“I like it better on you.”

-

I really hope you guys liked this!!

if you did please do leave a comment, like or reblog. And feel free to let me know if there is something you want me to write.

[ladylaviniya]

Spirit of Christmas Past

Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: You are greeted by the Spirit of Christmas and he decides to confront your past and punish your stubborn behaviour.

Pairing: Chris Evans x f!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Manipulation, Dead Parents Description, Verbal Abuse, P in V sex, Rough Sex, Choking, Fingering, Humiliation, Heart Break, Ghosts, Swearing, Alcoholic Use, Classism.

Word Count: 9k

A/N: Please to all readers, understand I don't have a beta editor and I can miss some mistakes because most my typing is on the bus to work when I get the time to write. ALSO this is my attempt at the naughty or nice challenge using: 18. “If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.” @the-slumberparty an event challenge created by @navybrat817 & @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

12:59am 25th December 2023, New York City.

Among the nothingness of sleep, you could hear in the distance the sound of little bells jingling. You groaned, cracking your eyes open slowly. The sound was becoming more persistent and volumed.

It was freezing! The management still hadn’t fixed the heating system. You shivered and dug deeper into the duvet layers of your bed. You reached for your phone to check the time.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” you grumbled before rolling over onto your back. All memory of Marlene’s visit had disappeared from your mind.

You stared up at the plain ceiling. Your eyes grew hazy while your mind dissociated into thought. A single tear rolled from your eye.

God, you hated Christmas so much. You tried ignoring all the years. You tried pushing back the pain. You tried thinking about your jobs and tasks still incomplete. You tried not to think about how lonely you were, how unfulfilled you felt deep down. A mean tug at your chest made you hiss.

The ceilings image morphed into spots and shapes of different kinds...and when you chose to focus your eyes you could see the flecks of shadow clashing with light, wrapping and drawing out the shape of a person walking towards you.

You leant back and felt the mattress still under you. What you were seeing had to be part of some strange dream. You concluded you’d fallen back to sleep.

Gravity didn’t apply in this scenery.

The ceiling opened up, glowing in a soft calming light. The figure kept walking it’s way towards you. The closer he got the more you could acknowledge his face and good looks. He was lean and clean shaven, a depiction of youth. His hair was the colour of dark roasted chestnuts. He wore a white sweater.

‘Woah, what a weird dream...but look at how handsome he is.’

As if he heard your thoughts loud and clear he smiled with sparkling white teeth. Still unsure of reality, you lifted your hand up high to the ceiling. He did the same. He reached out with his palm out.

Your finger tips touched and you gasped at how warm and inviting he felt. Your mind ran filthy. You bit your bottom lip before lurching off the bed to the ceilings opening window into the handsome man’s arms. You swore you knew him. Something about that smile. You couldn’t place it though. Butterflies filled your insides.

His eyes were a blue that matched mountains. His cheeks sharp and strong but that smile was ageless.

You shyly bit the tip of your finger and giggled, “Kiss me.”

He cupped your face and accepted your advance without hesitation. His lips leant forward and met your starved mouth.

He was slow, sweet like vanilla. He pulled away and nibbled at your lips, sucking and licking with you. He was perfect. You were the first to pull away, panting and mewling. Your body rubbed up against his again. One of his arms cupped your back while his other hand cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

You felt his muscles, his hot body. His arms tightly held you, protecting you from the world and claiming you as his.

In your head this all made sense. Deep down you had met before, but where...God where had you met him? It ached not knowing fully.

Pulling away you moaned, “Fuck me. Please.”

You took his ginormous hands and pressed them against your breasts. Only a thin piece of satin separated your skin to his skin. You knew he’d be able to feel your nipples pebbling under his palms.

You kissed and nibbled along his jaw, panting, “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” And that was true. You underwear had gone missing after you had played with your toy while imagining a rape play scene. You looked up at him with doe eyes fluttering. Your fingers pinched the hem of your night gown. He smirked, his fingers danced up your thighs, and by your surprise....he forced your hem down.

His eyes burned bright blue, almost glowing as the world around you both faded black. His head shook lightly at you, his wet lips parted, and he whispered into the open air, “Be not afraid Y/N as I shine the light on your past.”

Your head jerked back, your eyes squinted, ‘What the fuck?’

The question filled your mind and escaped through your lips, “Who are you?”

The handsome stranger rubbed his thumbs into your palms and said with heralding tones, “I am he who sees past, present and future tidings upon the grandeur of Christmas day. I am The Spirit of Christmas. But you…may call me Chris.”

“Chris?” You blinked and rebuffed in an fit of laughter. You shook your head, disbelieving and feeling that heat of anger rise.

“The Spirit of Christmas,” you cackled, “I really did have too much to drink to be having weird dreams like this. You kiss me and tell me that you’re some mystic being?”

His lips flicked up, bemused, “You asked for that kiss, I merely obliged such a sweet request.”

Humiliation bloomed in the pit of your belly. You felt hot in the face and grit your teeth.

His thumbs ran over the pulse of your wrists, his eyes were crowned in a false innocence.

Your eyes glowered in seconds, “Go fuck yourself, Chris,” you fumed.

You shoved his hands away and turned around trying to imagine something else, hoping the dream would change or you would wake up. You stumped short and jumped back as your path was blocked by a horrific sight. A naked woman in the darkness, chained and kneeling at your feet. Marlene.

The memories flood back into your mind. Her ethereal form floating your bed with her frozen heart and warning words. Except she was no ghost in this form. She was hauntingly thin like a skeleton, the loos skin of her belly and breasts hung down, her skin was discoloured and sickly, her cheeks hallowed and her hair thin, balding. Her teeth were black, gums rotten, her chest made this awful whistling noise as she struggled to breath. Her finger nails were red and cracked. She was chained to the floor. She looked up at you with sad bloodshot eyes, shaking her head at you.

“Go with him Y/N, he is your last chance…” she shivered as if a cold wind had prickled her flesh. Her head hung low.

His heavy hand laid down bearing weight onto your shoulder. You gasped and looked back at him with fear. His face appeared mournful as he acknowledged Marlenes decrypted state. Those blue eyes you were enchanted by moments ago sent an icy chill down your spine as his attention turned to you.

“Come,” he softly beckoned, “Let this soul pay it’s penance…”

You licked your dry lips and tried to keep your cool without revealing your fear. You nodded, not chancing your voice breaking in an exchange. His palm held back out to you. You glared at him. With defeat and the tiniest tremble in your fingers, you finally tucked your hand into his, feeling his warm fingers wrap around you, you had to admit, it felt nice. He squeezed it softly and walked, guiding you away from the living corpse of Marlene’s soul.

After some time of walking away until Marlenes image disappeared.

The shadows felt literally heavy, weigh you down in what felt like a fight against gravity. You recalled a time you trudged through the snow up to your waist. It felt like this, yet there was only silence.

His hand was still wrapped around yours, tugging you forward mercilessly.

You felt like you could have tripped in the black abyss.

“Sp-spirit?” you finally dared to ask, “Spirit…where are you taking me?”

And then he stopped. You could hear his sigh and felt the air around you grow colder. This sexy dream had quickly turned into a foreboding nightmare. A flame of light flickered in the palm of his other hand, it was like supernatural magic.

He pulled you in closer and his other hand came around and slapped your backside.

You shrieked and tried shoving him back, “Ow! What the hell! That hurt!”

He chortled, “Yes, the past can hurt, especially yours,” his finger scratched under your chin, “But it can also heal if you learn from it.”

The floor beneath your feet disappeared and you both plummeted into the darkness again. You screamed as your belly lifted up into your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt the spirit hug you tighter, your fingers desperately squeezed the wool of his sweater.

And then the falling stopped, and your screaming died down into violent pants. He still held you and then placed you softly down onto the ground below your feet.

His smile was gentle, “Here we are.”

05:00pm Christmas Eve, 1999, Texas, Austin.

Finally, you dared to open your eyes. Your hands were still clawed into his thick sweater when you looked around at your surroundings. It was a living room inside a trailer home. Red tinsel had been taped to walls. A small Christmas tree stood in the corner between the space of a couch and a basinet. Poorly drawn pictures of baubles, stars, Santa and elves had been scattered over the floor.

‘Ugh.’ Christmas decorations…but no, hold on…you knew this place.

And a soft hum of Jingle Bells filled your ears. You gasped. You knew who it belonged to in an instant. You let go of the Spirit and looked behind you.

A woman in the kitchen was opening a packet of biscuits, placing each one on a plastic plate. She was younger than you while sharing a likeness in appearance. The home smelt like gingerbread while she began to pour a cup of milk. She placed the cup on the small coffee table, sighing as she ran her palm over the swell of her protruding belly under her dress.

“M-mom?” you said shakily, “Mom is that…oh god mom! I missed you so much.”

You raced forward with your arms spread wide, seeking to hug her. As you closed your arms around her, you stumbled and fell hard to the floor onto your knees.

“Fuck!” you hissed and heard the mocking snicker come from the Spirit.

You twisted your body and sat back on your hands. You looked up and back at your mother, confused and dazed. Her feet were not on top of you, standing on you, but rather, she was standing inside and walking through you. You jumped in fright and crawled backwards, watching how she walked through you transparently.

“M-mom?” you whimpered, scared and confused. When she didn’t answer your voice filled with panic, “Mom!”

The Spirit, holding his hands behind his back chuckled, looking between you both.

You shouted, “What the hell is wrong with her!?”

His laughter pulled back and he hummed with a smile, “There’s nothing wrong, she can’t see you or hear you. These are but shadows of things that have been. They have no consciousness of us.”

She totally ignored you as she lowered herself onto the couch.

The Spirit held his hand out to you to help you up from the floor. You slapped it away and used the wall for stability. He didn’t appear offended or surprised by your viperous habits. You shoved past him and fell to your knees in front of her.

“Mom?” you said a little more gently.

You reached out to touch her shoulder. Your fingers went straight through her. Your eyes watered. She looked up from her belly and her lips spread into her perfect smile. Her eyes glittered, “Honey, can you please grab the cookies for Santa?”

Your face lit up and you nodded desperately, scooting back off your knees to fetch the cookies from the small kitchenette, but before you could step forward, you heard the tiny squeak of a child, “Okay, mommy!”

And from the corner of your eye you saw her... next to the tree was a little girl in a plaid dress and pig tails with plaid scrunchies, laying on her belly, kicking her feet back in forth with a crayon in her little chubby hand scribbling a poor drawing of a reindeer. It looked more like a cow with antlers.

“Is that…”

The little girl crawled to her feet and skipped to the kitchen, she looked so small compared to the plate she carried back to the living room and placed it onto the coffee table proudly put the beside the milk.

You stood up and took a small step back. You bumped into the Spirits chest, “Is that me?”

He laid his hand on your lower back. He watched you watching your much younger self.

He hummed, “Yes, you were seven years old here I believe.”

‘Yes, just before Caroline was born.”

Your mom leant forward and grabbed the little girl by the waist, tugging her back and peppered kisses all over her small giggling face while her fingers tickled her sides until she begged her to stop.

“Love you my little troublemaker,” she whispered against the tiny cheek.

“I love you too mommy,” you and your younger self said in sync. This, the Spirit noted with a calm expression. He walked around the room. The smaller girl version of yourself ran through him as he perched himself on the arm of couch and cocked his head at the drawings scattered along the floor.

“You had talent, you know?” he mused.

A slam of the front door made you jump. Your father with a big welcoming grin came home shortly after. The little girl cheered excitedly, running off to show him the drawing she drew for him. He picked her up and threw her in the air before catching her again despite the disapproving look your mother gave him.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look!” the little girl said giving him the picture, “Merry Christmas!”

He laughed with pure mirth and delight, his eyes squinted at the image, and he nodded.

You smirked; he had no fucking clue what the kid version of you had drawn.

“It’s beautiful babygirl, it’s ah…ah…”

He glanced over at your mother who mouthed the word back, “Reindeer.”

His eyes widened and his voice lilted, “A reindeer! Just for me!? Thankyou sweetheart,” he kissed her cheek, “I can’t wait to show all my friends this at work.”

He placed her safely down on the floor and walked over to your mother before sitting on the couch beside her. He put the picture on the coffee table and leant in to kiss his wife. Child you turned away and stuck out her tongue, in total disgust because ‘boys kissing girls was gross!’

“And how’s mommy been?” your father purred, laying a hand on her belly, his thumb lazily rubbed back and forth.

“Tired,” she groaned, “Little peanut is coming any day now. I can feel her kicking my rib cage, I think she’s planning her escape and wants to rocket out,” she breathed hard, her hand softly laced into her, holding it over the spot where your baby sister was kicking her feet.

You chewed your bottom lip and glanced at the Christmas Spirit who was grinning at the little girl in her pig tails and plaid.

You felt strange. And the strangeness was uncomfortable. Nausea filled your tummy.

“If this is a memory of just the past, “ you started wobbly, “Does that mean...everything is the same as it once was?”

“Yes, that’s right,” acknowledged the Spirit.

You smirked, “Good.” You twisted around on your heel and marched down the hallway that connected to your tiny bedroom.

A small surprised noise escaped you at seeing how pink and purple everything was coloured. On the walls was a my little pony poster. On your floral bed covers was your favourite Bratz doll. You sat down on the tiny bed and sighed before burying your face into your hands.

You tried sneezing. You tried slapping your face. You even got up and started doing jumping jacks. You would do anything to try and wake yourself up! A tiny knock broke your concentration, and you gasped coming face to face with the Spirit of Christmas. He was leaning against the doorway, holding back his laughter.

You sneered at him and sat back on the bed, panting softly. You tried remembering his name; calling him Spirit felt tedious.

“Chris was it?” you spat mockingly, “Is that because your name's Christmas?”

He dug his hands into his pockets, his smile unfaltered, “Nah, I just liked the name, it fits. My real name you wouldn’t be able to say because it hasn’t been said by the tongue of man.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yea okay whatever,” you dismissed sourly, “So, what the fuck is this? Huh? Is this some kind of sick game, are you trying to hurt me?”

Your throat grew tight. You couldn’t believe what was happening and why of all people this was happening to you. What did he even want? Was this just some insane plot to blackmail you?

“Well, guess what,” your chin jerked out at him, “I’m not scared, I’m not hurt. In fact I’m thrilled!” you showed off your laughter, forced from your lungs.

His smile softened, “Ah, but why is your lips trembling? And...what’s that I see?”

He took a large step forward and stood above you. You laid back, flinching at his hand reaching down to you face. Your heart thudded loudly.

His finger was hot on your cheek, it rolled up and brushed your skin. He pulled back the finger, rolling it into his knuckle and moved it between your eyes to show you something

On his finger was a drop of moisture.

“A tear?” he whispered, “What ever for?”

Your face felt hot and you blinked away the others that escaped your lashes, you sucked in a deep breath and rubbed your nose.

You let out a fake nervous laugh, “Please, you think I’m crying? Have you not seen how dusty this house his? I’m just having allergies.”

Little did you know, the Spirit could see beyond your lies.

He sat down beside you on your bed and placed his large hand on your knees.

You felt vulnerable. You didn’t want him here, you didn’t want to be here. And what was worse was his silence. He did not speak for a long while. The only noises were the sounds of the little girl and her parents in the living room.

You sighed and looked at the floor. You missed this point in your life. Things were simpler. You were so oblivious to the world and it’s harms.

“Your father sounds incredibly proud,” The Spirit said, his thumb ran over your skin.

Your eyes fluttered and you nodded.

“Did you know he told you the truth? About your picture?”

You eyed him cautiously.

He snapped his fingers and your bedroom faded into an office space. You were sitting on a dark oak desk. Seeing the boxy computer with twistable speakers struck you with nostalgia.

11:00am 26th December, 1999, Texas, Austin.

Your dad came through the office door, holding a piece of paper. Your picture.

He pinned it to a cork board and one of his colleagues that followed him in jokingly asked, “What’s with the Picasso cow?”

Your dad huffed back, “Hey man, it’s a reindeer and for your information, my daughter made it for me. And I’m lucky to have it. What did your kids get you?”

The coworker snorted and muttered under his breath, “A phone call asking about Child support, always check if the condom is ripped my friend.”

The two men left, bantering between each other.

You looked at the photo of your dad, your mom, seven year old you and a baby Caroline. It was a Polaroid taken in the hospital. Your mom had little Caroline just before the new year. You all looked so happy. You loved being a big sister, you couldn’t stop leaving baby Caroline alone, eager for her to grow up and become your best friend. Were there times she annoyed you? Yes, she was your sister after all. But Caroline had a heart of gold.

The Spirit touched the photo and asked with mirth, “Such a beautiful family...whatever happened?”

You didn’t answer. You slid off the desk and marched out of the office door only to somehow walk right back inside...you gasped and turned back around but when you opened the door to leave it was like staring into a mirroring space.

You poked your head out of the office only for it to be poking back inside through the same door.

It was the strangest paradox that you had come to find.

The Spirit sucked his teeth and shook his head, “Yea, funny that...so here’s the deal...you are going to follow my rules.”

‘Asshole doesn’t know what a deal is.’

He stood away from the cork board and sat down in your father’s rolling desk chair, stacking his feet up onto the wood loudly.

Your hands protectively wrapped around yourself. His pupils seemed to expand and shrink quickly like a cat. Your skin crawled.

“What rules?” You scoffed, “Are these a part of your test?”

He nodded once, “Yes. See for this whole thing to work, you have to comply and participate...meaning,” he shoved away from the desk and launched from the chair to walk fast towards you, causing you to walk backwards and hit the wall behind you, his hand grabbed and squeezed your jaw, from his teeth he seethed, “When I ask a question.. you answer it. Or I could just leave you here...forever.”

Your eyes watered, your chest heaved sporadically, “L-leave me here?”

His eyes fluttered, “Oh I’m sorry, you didn’t think this would have consequences?” His nose pressed to yours as he remarked, “Your little friend Marlene is stuck haunting your apartment for that reason. She’s stuck in a loop in which she can never escape. She gets to watch you everyday moving into her apartment and moving all her possessions around. I could leave you here and do the same. I could let you re-watch your father hang up your picture for eternity.”

His bright blue eyes darkened almost totally black. At that point you couldn’t tell if he was a good spirit or an unholy one.

You swallowed hard with a whimper and squeezed shut your eyes. His hot breath tickled your ear.

“I can be merciful...so...” his thumb rubbed over your bottom lip, peeking out from your eyes you thought he might kiss you, “Let’s try again...”

When he released you and turned back to the cork board he clicked his fingers. You collapsed from the wall to your knees, too weak and shaky to hold you up after his dominant spell. Piles of work paper flew around the room, around his head, his eyes raced over the pages, the words turned glowing gold as he read over them with his supernatural powers.

“Your family looked stable enough for their poor income. You lived a decent childhood...” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes hard and demanding, “What happened that changed it all?”

You bowed your head cowering as you whispered, “You already know.”

The papers that swirled in a storm around him floated softly down to the floor in front of you. The ink of the printed words began morphing into swirling shapes and colours.

The Spirit said, “I’d like it if you told me. That’s how this works. We analyse what really happened compared to what you think happened.”

Your eyes stared at the colours in the ink rise, painting the image of a snow covered alley way from nightmares years ago. You gasped. Your mother, you and your sister were all walking down from the entrance. You clenched the front of your nightgown and desperately blabbered into begging. Tears ran down your face. It didn’t take much effort knowing what was to come.

“Please don’t make me watch it.”

You tried to move the papers away but the pages fought back in nasty stinging paper cuts.

Your covered your face and eyes before hearing the mystic being bellow, “Put your hands down!”

Half screaming you sobbed, “No, please! I can’t do it! Please!”

You stood up on your feet and threw yourself into him. He did not hold you and let you fall at his feet. He did crouch down and rub both his thumbs over your snot covered lip.

“Please,” you choked, his finger pressed to you mouth. He shook his head and softly hushed you. He cupped the back of your neck and moved his mouth to ghost along your lips.

You hiccuped and opened your mouth, waiting for him to just conquer a kiss. He almost did with how his tongue tickled your lips and teeth when he icily repeated, “Dont forget I can leave your here. And you can watch it over and over and over. Be a good girl. Tell me what happened.”

He sat on the floor and tugged you into his arms and lap. You buried your face into his neck and hiccupped again.

“C-caroline was nine and I was sev-seventeen...Mom took us Christmas shopping. We were gonna buy something for Dad. A watch. A really fucking nice watch because dad had a big promotion in New York coming up...on our way back home, a drunken asshole with a broken bottle threatened to kill us if we didn’t give him our bags. We complied and mom made sure to step in front of us. He got angry because it wasn’t a Rolex...he then...”

You broke down again and clenched Chris’ white sweater tightly. His fingers raced up and down your spine slowly and tempered, hushing you until you managed to start talking again.

“What did this man do?”

The pages turned dark burgundy red.

Your but your bottom lip and sniffled, “He punched the broken bottle into Moms’ belly. It was so sharp it cut through her jacket, her skin and fat all the way into her liver. There was nothing Caroline and I could do. We tried to stop the bleeding with our coats. But When paramedics arrived ....she had bled to death. I watched her choke on it.”

You wiped your tears and snot across his shoulder, the soft wool soaked it up. His strong hands pulled you closer into him. You straddled his hips, curling your legs around his back. Your night gown hem rose up around your nude hips. His body was so warm. He was like a blanket around you.

“She died, protecting us,” you gulped, “She died over a fucking watch because some greedy homeless drunk wanted money for some booze.”

The Spirit clucked his tongue, “Your mother passed and your father?”

Your tears had calmed down significantly, you covered yourself to sit on his thigh instead of balancing on just his lap. You twisted your body and stared at the moving pictures on the papers.

Your dad came to image. The black beneath his eyes and the sunken cheeks were not the man you wished to remember. He lit a cigarette and pressed a bottle to his lips.

“Dad got his promotion and we moved to Manhattan but...Mom’s death really took a toll on him.”

You were making paper angels on the floor with your sister. You hung them up together in her room. There was no Christmas tree. It was the Christmas after your mom’s death and before you left for college. It was the last Christmas you shared with Caroline.

The sweet ten year old was wise and emotionally matured than others her age. It was how she processed your moms death. Caroline at only ten was able to keep you and your father from experiencing more heart ache and grief.

You watched the two girls climbed under a blanket and play with a flashlight. You pushed over her wrist a rubber band loomed bracelet with her favourite colours. She gave you three fruity scented rubbers and a pencil she had been rewarded by her teacher at school.

“I used that pencil until the tip was impossible to hold,” you whispered and felt Chris’ warm wet lips press against your temple, he rocked you like you were the most fragile thing in the room. Maybe you were.

“She still keeps your rubber band bracelet in her bedside table...she wore it to the birth of your nephew,” The spirit stated.

You choked and cupped your hand over your mouth. You hadn’t cried so hard and so much in years not since-

“And then you left for College.”

You sucked in a deep and painful breath. You nodded and clenched your hand into a fist.

“College wasn’t so bad. I had my fun like everyone else,” you lied.

“Did you?” Chris smirked, “Let’s have a look at that then? Shall we?”

8:00pm 23rd December, 2012, New York University.

Your father’s desk morphed into a pool table.

It was the party of the season. Sororities and fraternities came together. You weren’t a member of a sorority. You chose to believe stand offishly that sororities were of a hive cult mind. It wasn’t worth networking in such a unnecessary club and housing.

You didn’t have friends in college either. You didn’t make yourself approachable. Always sitting at the front of the class room and never smiling. You were the dedicated pupil and that made you into the coldest fish of the school.

Your professors approval and marks is all you cared about. The more successful, the more opportunities and the more chances of gaining success enough to maybe look after your little sister. That originally was the goal.

You watched with Chris as a gaggle of Kappa delta girls giggled passed by a young girl no older than nineteen holding a red cup close to her chest. She looked disdainful and tired. She was wearing a basic white thankyou with a cotton scarf and jeggings. Thick black glasses at on the edge of your nose. You laughed awkwardly looking at the past youth. Your recalled your hipster phase in college but didn’t remember you looking this horrendous and mismatched. Your hair...you shuddered. You never did that style again.

“Fun party!” Chris called over your shoulder. He wore a red Christmas hat and in the crook of his lip was a party blower. The lights and music were obnoxiously jolly and hip hop rap remixes found on YouTube. You know YouTube? When it’s common the iPhone one was still a little television and not the red play button we know today. So many people were growing nuts over these two Neanderthals on a channel called “Smosh” at the time, maybe they were trying to mimic that movie of dipshits called Jack Ass.

Yes...party...you had been invited and you almost said no...but your mother’s death anniversary was coming up and you felt it appropriate to seek the comfort of other people and illicit items to take the pain away for a night. The young woman continued to help herself to the eggnog, standing right beside the table, spooning the goop into her red cup

You tried forgetting about the drunk monster that stabbed your mother all those years ago.

“A naughty freshman?” Chris chuckled, breaking you away from your thoughts.

He floated to the eggnog bowl and grinned,.“Barely a woman and breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a rebel.”

You rolled your eyes, “Hardly,” before walking over to sit on the edge of the pool table. Some guys were playing with their cues and balls. They walked through you as they passed by. One of them you remembered very well and tried your best to not acknowledge.

“It’s how you met him though...isn’t it?” said Chris, looking between the young woman and a young man playing at the table.

The man was handsome. Tall and dark. His eyes a burnt burgundy that sent the younger you thrills down your spine.

The young woman leaning in her corner and sipping her sorrows away was eyeing the game keenly. It looked...fun.

The very ass she looked upon was found and shaped with strong thighs and calf’s under those denim jeans. The ass belonged to a man. And that man turned around once he caught her staring in the corner of his eye.

He smirked and finished the game before swaggering over your way. Even now you still admired how good looking he was.

Chris was looking him up and down, smiling and cockily mimicking the walk but this time back to you so you could both watch the events of your forlorn past.

“Hey, aren’t you in my maths class?” The man asked leaning over her with just his right arm.

She ignored him initially, shrugging as a reply.

He chuckled, “You’re that weird chick that sits at the front right?”

Her eyes flickered back and her lip curdled, “And you’re that obtuse moron that doesn’t know the difference between algebra and calculus equations?”

Chris chuckled, “There you are. I was wondering when you’d come out to play.”

You felt a twinge ashamed. Is that how others saw you all the time? An uptight, haughty bitch? You remained quiet.

“Well...I find I act my dumbest when I’m around beautiful ladies,” said the confident man, “I get all nervous and stuff.”

“Nervous and stuff?” She repeated slowly, flicking her tongue deliberately against her teeth to sound out each precious syllable.

God, it made you cringe to watch yourself.

He leant in closer and pressed his nose to hers, his eyes glanced up and he said heatedly, “You’re standing beneath a mistletoe.”

Before he could officially kiss her, Chris clapped his hands and world the room around. He grabbed your wrist and made sure to stand you on his shoes as the people and party disappeared into books on shelves.

4:00pm 23rd December, 2013, New York University.

The pool table melted down into the shape of a smaller desk and chair. That same girl was sitting at it with her head in a book and her pen against the page. The sky outside was dark. It was snowing lightly beyond the windows.

That man from the party now wore a dark blue jumper and sweatpants, he wandered up beside her, sipping a starbucks milkshake.

She moved the thick black rim glasses from her face. Her fingertips rubbed circles into her eyes before returning back to the important reading material. Dark shadows bagged beneath her eyes.

“You were a dedicated student,” said Chris, his hands lingered up your spine and wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You nodded. You were.

The loud sucking of the man’s Starbucks cup made her slap the book close.

With her tight voice she snootily scolded him, “You know you’re not allowed food and drink in the library.”

He smirked, “Whatcha gonna do miss goodie goodie? Gonna tell on me? Gonna take my drink away?” he shook it, the ice cubes rattled I side.

He chuckled and chewed the straw. His eyes glanced at you up and down.

“Youre kinda hot...in a weird nerdy way you know?” he chuckled.

Both younger you and the you if now rolled your eyes and scoffed. But you knew the younger version was naive and how so many of those one liner comments got you into the most destructive relationship of your life.

The young man stole her book from the desk and ran off with it. Her shriek became laughter as she quickly collected her bag and pencils to chase after him.

The Spirit held you when he stood behind you His hands cradled your arms and hip, rocking you slowly, side to side. He watched the interaction of two young people deep into their puppy love with a great fascination over his face.

“Who was the handsome beau?”

“Anthony Mackie...the schools best hockey player and class clown idiot,” you muttered.

Chris hummed with pleased curiosity, “Is that all?”

You grabbed at his wrists and squeezed them tightly. You pressed your head back into his chest and sighed.

“He was my boyfriend,” you said quietly to Chris.

The library seemed to fast forward. Outside the seasons changed from winter, spring, summer fall and back to winter again. She was sitting back in the same desk again. Her eyes were still tired and now she wore a little more makeup to conceal it. Her eyes were glued to the pages, racing to read and write notes. Her ipod shuffle earphones were half broken, crackling each time unless you held the cord in a specific way.

And a soft humming slipped from her lips, totally immersed in her study.

“Oh, oh, where do we begin? The rubble or our sins?”

Chris side glanced you and you side glanced him. Without the music, her crackly voice just sounded like a dying bird.

“And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love. Grey clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above.”

“An awful drawer and a terrible deaf tone singer,” he laughed, “I didn’t think I would learn so much about the things you’re bad at.”

You had to admit, he was right. You stomped hard onto his foot. His lips puckered and his eyes squeezed in his silent pain.

“Oops,” you feigned ignorance, “Guess I’m bad at watching my step too.”

“But if you close your eyes,” she sang a little louder and you felt that second hand humiliation wave through you hard, “Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes..Does it almost feel like you’ve been here befor-”

Behind her, Anthony came whistling around a corner and stuck his head into the study nook, stealing her head phone from her ear and kissed her cheek hard.

She smiled and just as quickly frowned.

“C’mon babe,” said Anthony, “Sebastian’s throwing a killer basement bash for the holidays. Let’s go to the party.”

The college girl laughed mockingly at her boyfriend, “I’m sorry, did you forget that we have a test tomorrow? I don’t have time to go out wasting it away with your degenerate friends.”

Chris hands sneakily ran down over your thighs and slipped beneath the night gown to cup your belly. Your breath hitched. You couldn’t tell if you were aroused or disgusted anymore. Why of all times and places was he groping you now?!

“Baby,” the hockey player sighed, “You’re the smartest chick I know. I’m sure you’ll pass tomorrow. A little bit of dancing and drinking won’t change that.”

“No,” she firmly hissed and turned her head back to your book. Anthony’s chest deflated.

“Anthony just wanted to party all the time,” you scoffed to Chris, “He was so horny and stupid I can’t believe I actually dated him.”

He gave you a side ways glance, his thumb rubbed tiny circles into your skin.

“So you dumped him?” he asked looking between you and your younger studying self.

Sheepishly you looked away and shrugged, “...not exactly...it’s complicated.”

“Enlighten me,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek after.

Your body grew warmer by the second especially in places you wouldn’t have guessed. Your insides felt alive and buzzing. It was so wrong.

“...I...” Anthony paused and took a few moments to break out his voice, “I can see your studies are more important than me, huh? We haven’t hung out in ages and...you’re never taking a break from study to enjoy life with me... Is this really more important? I mean, c’mon...” his eyes softened, “It’s almost Christmas break.”

And it was violent. You jumped watching her turn and announce cold cuttingly, “As a matter of fact, this is. I don’t have time to waste on dumb doornail guys when I need to succeed. I guess I can’t expect a hopeless hockey player to understand. Go skate on some ice and hit a put, it’s not like you’ll be able to feed your future family.”

His eyes widened.

Your eyes widened.

Her eyes darkened with scornful hate.

He kissed her head and shook his head, he whispered, “Merry Christmas Y/N. I wish you nothing but the world in your palm, I just won’t be in it.” He stood away shakily. Tears were pearled in his eyes as he walked away leaving her to her own devices. She grunted and went back to her studies... The next morning you had earned the top score of the class.

You knew the break up was quick, you didn’t remember saying such a mean thing to the guy you had fallen mad head over hill in love with.

You couldn’t believe you had been so cruel.

But you had. And there was nothing you could do to take it back. It happened. It was done. Finished.

And Anthony did nothing wrong except invite you to a party, a party you never went to, a party where he met his future wife.

“Spirit remove me from this place,” you choked as your chest began trembling.

Chris hushed you and kissed the side of your head, “It’s alright, I told you before, these are merely shadows of the past, things that have been.”

He wiped the unwilling tears coursing down your cheek.

You shook your head and wailed, “I don’t fucking care! Remove me! Take me somewhere else!”

A vile sobbing wail screamed from your lips. You didn’t know where it had come from. Your knees gave way and you fell, Chris’ arm caught your waist in time and laid you down across the carpet.

The vision of time phased away to the darkness. You felt your heart get louder, fearing the unknown pitch black. His hot hand cupped your cheek and you found yourself cowering into his chest.

1:40am 25th December, 2023, New York City.

There was a faint light in the area around you. Dim and blue. Your eyes struggled to open...you lifted your head from what you originally believed was Chris’ chest. Yet it revealed to you quickly that the warmth was only your soft pillows. You were back in your own bedroom again. The sheets has been wrapped around your waist and legs.

You didn’t know how to feel. You just cried. You buried your head and sobbed. You missed your mother and the father you once had. You missed Anthony and regretted how much you might’ve hurt him. And you missed being touched...you missed Chris’ warm hands holding you and the foolish grin he wore. You barely knew up but you mourned his existence that might’ve not been real at all.

Sitting up sniffling and sighing hard, you got out of your bed and walked to your kitchen. You reached for your coffee machine and paused. No, you need something stronger. You went to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of wine from earlier. You intended to finish the damn thing and forget everything for a while.

Turn back around you returned to your room to lay back in your three thousand dollars bedsheets...

Except you didn’t recall buying him too.

Chris, still here. Now laying across your very luxuriously soft duvet. He made it dramatically obvious, running his cheek into your pillow smelling the essence of your tears.

Your spine shot up and down hot. You tried not to smile. You were pleased he was here. You didn’t know where he came from or where he was hiding before but seeing him again welcomed something into your cold heart.

His eyebrows wiggled, “Oh, Merlot? For me? You shouldn’t have.”

You hummed feigning your displeasure, “Its Pinot Noir... I didn’t think you’d be so uncultured.”

He chuckled, looking down at the soft fabrics he was pinching, “Yea, well I’m probably more knowledgeable on hot chocolate and eggnog more than anything.”

He pat the spot beside him, inviting you to sit on your own bed. You felt it was ironic and ludicrous.

“Maybe...anyway...don’t you have somewhere else to be? Someone else to bother?” You snipped and cocked your hip.

“As a matter of fact...” he rolled onto his back and placed his hands behind his head, “I don’t, so be a good snowflake and join me, the covers are incredible!”

You snorted softly rolling your eyes, “I know,” you sat on the bed and unscrewed the bottle, you took a deep sip and cringed a croak, “I bought them.”

He took the bottle from his hands, not asking if he could. But really what was the point in fighting him. He stole your wine and took his own sip. You couldn’t help stare at his bobbing Adams apple.

He passed the bottle back. You were going to take another drink before Chris said, “It all makes sense now.”

You eyes him putting the bottle down....he was daring you to ask it, you knew it...and you complied.

“What?”

You crawled onto your knees on the mattress and waited with your curious eyes. The wine warmed your belly. You tossed your head to one side, staring up and down the Spirit. He had such an appealing form for something so inhuman and supposedly holy.

He smiled.

“What!?” you repeated needfully.

He sighed, “This,” he waved his hand towards you.

“You just gestured to all of me.”

“Exactly.”

Your eyes narrowed and a bold bolt drove through you, the twinge of annoyance mixed with frustrated anger, “If you’re going to talk in riddles, you can get the fuck off my bed and get the fuck out of my apartment. Merry fucking Christmas.”

His smile remained but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He lifted his chin.

“How you became a holiday hating, grievously malicious, uptight little cunt.”

Your eyes could have popped out from your head, “Excuse me?!” You gagged on nothingness. Your fists curled...‘What happens to people who punched Spirits in the nose?’

He shrugged and sighed, “You wanted to know. Don’t blame me for telling you the truth. I don’t do white lies, that’s not in my books.”

You grabbed the wine again and took a mean big gulp, glaring at him from the corner of your eye, “If that was the case,” your voice said with barbs, “Children wouldn’t believe in Santa and the north pole and his company of elves.”

He pursed his lips and nodded before he snatched the bottle from your hand and vanished it from existence.

“Hey!” you snapped, “I wasn’t finished with that! It cost me-”

“Nothing,” he interrupted and tapped his fingers on his chest, “It didn’t cost you a penny because you got a refund when you lied to the winery that it’s wax seal was broken upon delivery when it very well wasn’t...but upon tasting it you felt it wasn’t worth the price you paid therefore it shouldn’t cost you a dime...it didn’t cost you a damn thing.”

You sat back and gulped, ‘How the fuck-‘

“Christmas past remember? I see all...so don’t bother trying to convince me that you needed to finish that meaningless sip,” he curtly said, “You need to focus on bettering your mindset and yourself. It’s important.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted down at the floor. You wanted to cry and scream with embarrassment, you wanted to kick or break something.

He smirked and picked up your chin with a long finger. You sniffled and jerked your head away. You crawled down to the very end of your bed. You pulled the covers back and kicked the sheets before sliding your feet under them and pulling them up to your chin.

You huffed softly, feeling the prickling heat of tears behind your eyes, why did he have to shame you so easily, “Or what, you gonna chain me up like Marlene? Go on then, call me a cunt again. Put me on your big ol’ scary naughty list.”

You shook your head and rolled your entire body away from him. A tear rolled from your eye and soaked down into your pillow, meeting the rest of its previous brethren tears.

Chris gazed down at you with sad hope. He really did want you to pass the test. He knew you had the potential, but did you have the drive? Maybe you just needed the push...

You were lonely in life more than ever before. You were miserable despite convincing yourself you were incredibly successful in all parts of life.

His arm circled forward and bodly rubbed down your middle and curled around your waist. You sniffled again, ignoring his touch all together.

He laid his cheek ontop of yours and whispered, “Do you want to know what happens to naughty girls like you? You want to really know what they get?”

You shut your eyes, you didn’t want to look at him. You were upset and too ashamed. You didn’t want to be teased again.

You mumbled grumpily, “Coal up their ass?”

“Oh it’s not coal that goes up there,” he hummed deeply

Your eyes fluttered awake.

His hand reached under the duvet and touched your bare thigh...his finger tips wriggled in between your thighs and attacked your clit...your breath hitched.

“I gather you need motivation if you are to improve your outlook on life,” he breathed huskily into your ear.

Your lips parted, your eyes squeezed tight. A gurgling moan crawled from your throat. You rocked your hips into his hand and savoured his controlling hand.

Tiny pants left your lips as he pushed two fingers inside of your salivating pussy. He twitched them back and forth at an average steady pace.

His hot wet tongue licked from your shoulder up to your ear. His loud sucking on your skin cause a small keen shudder to glide down your spine. He kissed your neck and sighed into your skin.

His knee curled up and pressed between your thighs, he fully intended to keep your entire pussy open and available to his instrumental fingers.

“Look at you,” he muttered, “So compliant when I have my fingers up this stubborn cunt. Are you going to promise you’ll behave and obey me from now on? Cease you insistent fight?”

“Pl-please Chris,” you gasped,

He smirked against you skin, “Please what?” he purred

“F-fuck!” you whined and pressed your ass back against him, trying to rub against his hidden cock.

He slapped your backside once making you jump. He chuckled wickedly, “I will if you promise to obey and listen.”

You panted and groaned, “Make- make me!” you wouldn’t submit so easily....not even for unworldly dick.

His noise was feral, rising from the back of his throat like a growl. He pressed his mouth to yours. You whined, his tongue choked you and pressed your tongue down, dominating you even in kiss.

He gasped pulling back, “Very well you stubborn slut.”

He snapped his fingers and poof- the blankets, your night gown and surprisingly all his clothing vanished from the bed all together.

You gasped at the feeling of his hot skin pressing up your back. Your hands clawed the pillows as he thrust his fingers fast and hard. Your eyes started to roll until the sensation was totally lost. He selfishly took his hand back, moments before you hit the high. You whimpered and trembled. You couldn’t breathed you were a mixture of frustration, anger and needy obsession. You would have done anything for him to finish.

He sat up and rolled you until your belly was laid over his legs. His cock you could not see but feel touching you made you excited and eager to know how it would feel to fuck you. His hands roughly kneaded your thighs and bottom.

‘No...he wouldn’t...’

His hand came flying down cracking across the skin of your ass. You squealed and felt your hips launch up in the air. The sting was like a cutting burn that lasted for around thirty seconds. He did it again and again. His flat palm struck you and would the pain absorb before rubbing the flesh. You didn’t fight him and that did not surprise him.

Your hips wriggled and twisted. His hand was harsh and fiery. You groaned and savoured it. And when it felt almost too much and you tried to wiggle free. He pinned you down hard by your neck and shoulders.

You bit your lips and cried, really cried. You grit your teeth and sobbed through each striking spank on your naked ass. Your hands clawed the bed and the skin of his thighs. He hailed into you harder. You screamed and choked on your sobs. It wasn’t fun anymore. It hurt and he wasn’t stopping even when you began squealing and kicking your legs on the bed trying to twist your hips away.

“Stop! Stop please! Please! It hurts! No more, no more.”

“If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.”

You swore he had to have been flaying your skin by his hand until you reached back and cupped or own hot cheeks, protecting yourself from his whiping palm.

You sobbed and trembled. You flinched and whimpered with shining tears when a surprisingly soft knuckle brushed your cheek and his husky voice hushed you softly.

He slowly turned you over off his lap and dragged you close to his chest.

He shoved his thumb into your mouth. You didn’t fight or pull back. You sucked on this digit, wrapping your lips around it. You felt his arm wrap around you and pull you closer. Your breasts pressed to his chest, he was warm

And his thumb gave you something to focus on instead of your burn sore bottom. You whined and laid your head back on the pillows. You rubbed to cheek on the warm skin of his shoulder while he soothed you from your tears using his soft cooing and thumb you greedily kept in your mouth. You moaned and mewled over it, licking the pad and scratching your tongue along his nail.

His fingers ran up and down your back. He pulled his thumb from your mouth with a gentle pop.

“Look at you,” he whispered, “Greedy, spoilt, but once you’re faced with real consequences you come to heel...”

You tried shaking your head, denying it. No. You were an independent woman with control.

A false mocking awe came from him as he said, “Oh yes, yes that’s exactly what you are. But you’re going to promise to be a good girl from now on or else you’ll never cum again.”

You were speechless...you wanted to be fresh with him and state that you still owned a vibrator...but what if he took it away like your wine.

He spread your thighs, he tugged your knees over his hip and rubbed your clit with his fingers until you were wet enough to his liking. He kissed you again, laughing as you pressed yourself up into him, stealing any physical touch you could possibly gain. He ran a soft hand across your cheek, tender and loving. His lips suckled their way down to your chest. Those red cherry lips plucked at your nipples and soft breasts.

Finally the tip of his pink cock touched your pussy. It was firm and from what you could see in the faint dark, it was lengthy. Your arms reached up and held onto his shoulders, you dug your nails sharply into his shoulders as he entered.

He grunted and sighed, struggling to stuff himself in and would pause when your noises were whines of pain. He made sure to avoid any tearing.

And when he managed to press himself taut into you, his balls touching your ass and thigh, you felt like you had been through a workout.

The walls of your cunt were filled to every crevice of his fat cock. You moaned when he moved tiny thrusts into you instead of brutally slamming.

You pressed your mouth to him again, his eyes looking back at you with adoration. He jerked his hips back a little meaner watching you gasp. He mocked your gasp before kissing your nose and then your mouth. He did it again to taste and feel your gasp.

He moved you back, dislodging quickly so that he could climb over you and enter swiftly inside. He picked your legs up with the backs of your knees and anchored himself down, harder and faster picking up the speed.

“You hear that?” he asked and moved himself in smaller jerks, “Dirty little slut, you’re drooling syrup all over my pole.”

And if you weren’t so close to cumming you would’ve laughed. His hand pressed down on your throat. He barrelled into you and slapped a breast.

The sensations of being prevented to breathe as straight and the slap intensifies all your senses. You groaned and choked.

He hissed, bending down to press his nose into yours.

Your legs wrapped tight around his waist trying to lift your hips up to meet him.

“You want to cum?” he snarled? You nodded trying to not cry again. God you needed it.

“Pl-pl-please,” you gasped through the violent thrusts.

He licked your cheek and growled, “You promise to be on your best behaviour from now on?”

You whimpered and nodded.

His thumb attacked your clit as he fucked you.

“Cum,” he whispered, “Cum for me on my cock little slut.”

Your body contorted, muscles strained as you released a soundless scream. You threw your head back let you body be consumed by the orgasm you let tear through your entire body. Your bones and chest rattled. When air finally came to your lungs you let out a powerful sob. But Chris gazing down at you bore joyful vision at your smile as you cried.

You felt incredible, hit by a bus made of all things delightful.

His cock was still inside you. You didn’t take a moment to think about him or whether he cummed. You selfishly enjoyed the gift he gave you and forgot about the promise you had vowed.

He pulled away slowly. You hissed at the departure. So sensitive.

You curled lazily up into a ball and fluttered your eyes shut.

You only recalled feeling his hot lips against your ear, “I will return to you when the bell chimes once more...” his pecked your cheek and left you to lay in your mess, exhausted and falling into your own sleep again.

[oneatlatime]

The Desert

Alternate title: Gimme Appa back.

"But I believe, Aang can save the world." no pressure kid.

I had completely forgotten about these two chuckleheads. For once the 'Previously On' segment is useful rather than spoilery.

Ok Aang is going to get the world's biggest pass this episode, because he's in the suckiest of all situations. But even so, how exactly was Toph supposed to come and get them, when she was both actually blind for once and the only reason the library hadn't drowned them yet?

Aang has something of a history of running away. Does going after Appa count as running away from his friends?

Zuko's theatre kid tendencies are genetic.

The way Iroh said "What Now?" you know he was actually saying "fuck's sake."

Zuko's hair seems to grow very quickly. I thought that I could use his hair growth to measure time passing but this is not tracking. He barely had a buzz cut in The Chase and now he's fluffy.

Two things: a) this guy has eyes greyer than Aang this episode. b) He's cocking his hands like that ridiculous Henry Cavill scene from Mission Impossible where he cocks his biceps.

This guy's spear has piercings. And is coming out of a Dragon's mouth.

I don't know that I'd call these guys legendary. They're zero for two against an Avatar in Drag and two starving refugees with three functioning arms.

Doesn't Katara ever change out her water? Or even use it up and have to refill it?

I said it last episode, and I'll say it again: why did five people, a lemur, and a ten tonne sky bison travel into a desert famous for its desertiness with only a single water pouch between them? Admittedly, if they'd brought extra water and left it on Appa, they'd be having the same problem, but still...

Is a kids' show actually going to go there?

They actually went there!

Honestly if you're dying of dehydration in the desert, eating strange plants is absolutely the way to go. I'd rather trip my way into the afterlife than just shrivel up and die.

I love the way Aang's glider shadow moves over the dunes. Another one of those tiny details that the animators could have left out, but they didn't!

Sand benders must get crazy high speeds if Aang can't spot even a trace of Appa from up high. He wasn't Appa-napped very long ago.

Everyone go watch the scene where Aang blows up the mushroom cloud. Go right now I'll wait. And pay attention to Sokka's mouth. It does the wave.

His mouth does the wave and his arms do the worm. Someone really had fun this episode.

Zuko breaking the world record for highest number of Fire Nation wanted posters. Despite being the only person on that board who's unquestionably loyal to the Fire Nation. What a nice reward he got for his loyalty.

How is that one wrestler dude's hair so shiny?

Why, other than plot convenience, would Zuko and Iroh be at the Ice Spring?

I see now that the left hand shadow is Sokka with a Momo on his head. But for just a second I thought it was Ramona from Scott Pilgrim.

There are some really beautiful colour gradients in this desert.

"We won't survive without Appa." Well yes, but you have to try.

If this is a normal desert they're going to freeze their butts off overnight.

No comment. Just vibes.

Hey this is a Katara episode! Toph is blind, Sokka's zoinked, Aang's given up, so it's Katara time baby!

This episode has no business being this pretty.

"Sokka. I was there." I'd be very surprised if Katara's voice actress doesn't have an idiot older brother. That line was delivered a little too perfectly.

I'm not going to comment on every Sokka is high joke, but rest assured I'm finding them all hilarious.

Those drinks cost a gold piece each. Where did they get five gold pieces from?

Colour me shocked. The chuckleheads actually had a good idea for once.

Colour me shocked again! I vaguely predicted this!

Zuko. Honey. How are you this dim? He's so very good at missing exactly what's in front of him.

"Gold?"

Big muscles. No brains.

Very pretty. The sand texture is good too.

Well that was mean.

Passive aggressive glider deployment. Also how low is that cloud if Aang can reach it to bend it?

Aang is not shining this episode (understandably) but Katara is going from strength to strength. I NEVER would have thought that she was someone who could keep her cool under pressure like this. Happy to be wrong!

I have no idea if Sokka is going to remember or be aware of this epic trip he's on, but this is probably the best time he's had in months. Certainly since Yue died. He deserves this. Bad timing, but he needed a break.

"You must forgive my nephew. He is not an initiate, and is dumb as shit and incapable of reading the room."

Why is there a flower shop in the middle of the desert? What clients do they have? Obviously it's a front for this pai sho secret society thing, but why did they pick such a nonsensical front?

Toph has so much personality that it's easy to forget how tiny she is. Like a little gargoyle.

Sokka talking like a Greaser was the thing I didn't know I needed.

Poor Katara. Now you know how your brother feels every time he has to save your bacon from your weekly prison break.

I am losing my mind over these colours. Especially after The Library.

"I have a natural curiosity." I'm going to start using that.

Oops they found the circle bird nest.

Hey showrunners, you're going to take Momo from me too? You sure you want to do that? After last episode? Don't give me a pretty sunset with a latte swirl. Give me back Appa, put down Momo, or I'll sic Toph on you.

I do like Toph as a piece of artillery.

Turns out a combined Appa and Momo -napping is what it takes to get Aang to break his no killing rule. I now know how to defeat the Fire Lord.

The Audacity. Going to Ba-Sing- however the hell that's spelled. The sheer audacity. But then what? What's the plan after they get there? Just live the rest of their lives?

Rejected Mortal Combat guy.

You ever have one of those days where you do only your top lip?

Whoever made that door, and that lock - good job!

Nothing to see here, just making a delivery of two giant planters in the middle of the desert. The Owl decided to spruce up his entryway.

Y'all are fucked. Y'all deserve it. Aang has completely lost control. He's spent the whole episode losing it more and more and now he's gone completely off the rails. Has he ever zipped into the Avatar state that fast before?

Never underestimate the power of a woman who's fed up with everyone's nonsense. Just so fed up.

Well that was sad.

Badass name of the day: Malachi Throne, voice of a character whose name I don't recognise.

Final Thoughts

This was Katara's episode. I'm not going to forgive not getting Appa back, but Katara actually keeping a level head for once was an unexpected delight.

This episode was pretty unrelentingly heavy in the A-plot, which is why I don't understand why Sokka and Momo tripping worked so well. It did work, and I very much enjoyed it, but it should have stuck out like a sore thumb and it didn't. The beat up Sokka quota fulfillled from within by chemicals was a nice creative touch.

I am very happy to see Iroh take the wheel, although I'm not convinced there's a long term plan here beyond get food and shelter. Which, fair enough, goals tend to be short term and immediate when you're in dire straits.

This episode really stomped all over Aang. And then stomped some more. I was surprised how negative and shouty he was at the beginning, but by the end I was surprised how long it took him to lose it. Apart from his staff and his clothes, Appa really is all he has left from before he got frozen. That sandbender punk was rotten to the core.

So I guess we're going to the earth kingdom capital regardless of the eclipse information. Is the rest of the season going to be getting there? I also can't help but notice that it's where Iroh and Zuko are headed as well. Zuko could actively run in the direction opposite to the Avatar and he'd still end up tripping over him. The earth Kingdom is ginormous. And yet, like every two episodes Zuko runs into the Avatar. Is it fate? Is it plot convenience?

I should dislike this episode. It's 24 minutes of our faves getting beat down and not finding Appa, with a b-plot of Zuko being more oblivious than usual. I should dislike it, but I don't. This is definitely going on the rewatch list. It was a very pretty episode, which helped. Beyond that I can't put into words why I liked it, but I did!

[secretwhumplair]

Awakening

1,006 words | Mirai and the serpent king (sequel to Nightfall)

Content | Slavery, fear, nudity, non-con touch/kissing

Notes | Exciting developments! Mirai is introdused to his new living situation!

Taglist | @yet-another-heathen @echo-goes-aaa @whumpinator

»Good morning, Mirai.«

Mirai blinked his eyes open, and for a wonderful moment, he didn’t know where he was. He was comfortable and warm, and barely hurting or hungry. Someone had just softly called him by his actual name.

The first thing he saw, however, were smooth brown scales which started to shift as the serpent king leant over him and kissed his temple.

It took him several seconds after snapping back into his usual obedient, mercy-seeking mindset—with an aching sting through his chest from remembering something sweet and long-gone—before he remembered his new master wanted him to speak. »Good morning, Master.«

His voice was as wrecked as ever, and that fully grounded him back into reality.

»Have you slept well?« The serpent king’s fingers ran through his hair.

»Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.« It was true. He had been so exhausted that even surrounded by his terrifyingly overpowering and enigmatic master, he had slept deeply and dreamlessly.

And he was grateful for it.

»That’s good.« The serpent king cupped his cheek, kissed his forehead, and then got up out of the bed. »Get dressed. I will show you where you’ll live.«

Mirai was quick to obey, and while he closed the clasps of the excuse for clothing he had been given, the serpent king continued.

»There’s something important you need to know, Mirai. You will live with my other pretty things. You all are at liberty to interact with each other as each one involved pleases, but if someone hurts you in any way or makes you uncomfortable, you may tell me. If it cannot wait, you may tell the guards to tell me. I want all of you to be cared for and I will not tolerate bullying or petty games.«

Mirai looked up at him, a whole new world of worries suddenly opened up to him. »Th-thank you, Master.«

Once again, the serpent king must have sensed his fear. He smiled down at him. »Don’t worry, they’ll love you. But I want you to know you are not without recourse if anything happens.«

He led the way out of the room, and Mirai followed him, trying to shake his newfound anxieties.

»Further, if there is anything else you need or want, you may ask also. I may say no, but you will never be punished for inquiry.«

»Thank you, Master«, Mirai muttered, barely managing the words out loud. There was a lump in his throat. This all sounded so good.

There had to be a catch somewhere.

The serpent king brought him to a door flanked by two guards, who bowed their heads respectfully, but not without giving Mirai curious glances. One opened and let them in.

The room was large, the side opposite the door once more consisting of arched windows, framed with heavy curtains on either side. Multiple doors lined the other walls, some ajar, others closed. The room was furnished with several tables, couches both after the fashion of the legged folk Mirai was familiar with, and designed as oval-shaped platforms similar to the throne, as well as various seat cushions. Shelves held board games, books, and other knickknacks. Lamps hung on the walls between the doorframes, albeit currently extinguished.

More than the design of the room itself, though, what caught Mirai’s attention were its occupants.

They were all very beautiful. It was about a dozen, half serpentkind, ranging in colour and size from a slender, brown-patched woman to an olive-green man spotted in yellow and black and larger than the biggest guard Mirai had seen yet, half humans, from a woman as blue-black as night with long, neat locs to a fire-headed man as pale as birch bark. There was one slender-legged, shiny-coated bay centauress, and one other elf, bronze-skinned and curly-haired. His bright eyes found Mirai immediately, and Mirai could feel nothing but shame worse than the others put into him, even knowing they were in the same position.

Well, they weren’t, truly. This stranger, most likely, could sing.

All were dressed in attire somewhat similar to his, terribly exposed, but each different from one another, clearly designed to suit the person it adorned.

And all turned towards the opening door, looking curiously at the serpent king or the new slave he had brought.

Mirai felt awfully exposed; for a moment he had the childish impulse to hide behind his master. But that was as ridiculous as it was stupid. These people were likely much less of a threat to him. He had lived in households with several slaves before; even if they couldn’t do anything to help one another—sometimes banned from even touching, all touch belonging to their masters—it had been a bittersweet comfort not to be alone in his misery.

Yet, that all meant he was even more worried about making a bad impression.

The serpent king did loop around Mirai once more. »This is Mirai, sweets. Rizi, will you show him around?«

A tawny-skinned human with soft black waves on their head nodded. »Of course, Master.« The fiery-coloured silk bands of their decor, Mirai noticed, framed a pair of fine scars crossing their chest; delicate enough to have been masterfully made without resistance, but not wholly removed by magic, the way the dog bites on Mirai’s skin had been. They smiled at Mirai, and Mirai felt a spark of comfort.

The serpent king moved away from around Mirai, then paused. »One more thing. You will have Hishissa lessons every day. This is your home now; I want you to learn the language. Do you know how to read and write?«

»Only… only Nirezali, Master.« He had not, when he was receiving what little education he got, expected to leave the country he had been born in. No one in his family had. How and why would they?

»Then you will have lessons in that also. Make yourself at home,« he added, smiling at him one last time. »Have a good day, sweets.«

And with that, he left him to the others.

[metalnecklace]

Tanlines

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Words: 4402

Warnings: Smut (mdni), Plus size reader, Use of y/n, Daddy Kink (I’m so sorry, I’m ovulating and this got away from me), Unsafe sex (p in v, wrap it up, folks), Finishing inside, Oral (f/m receiving), Spit play, like, lots of it (again, I’m so sorry), Assplay, Tit/Nipple play, Titty fucking, Reader is described as having a larger chest size, Kinda same with ass (She is plus sized after all), Begging, Praise, Marking/Hickies, A bit of fluff at the end, Javi isn’t an ass or tits man, he’s an everything man change my mind, Slight mention of heaven/religious beliefs (not sure if this is a warning but just in case).

Notes: I don’t know what happened, but this is all filth. Thank you for being so patient for this! To be read directly after Sunburn. I tried to make this as non-descriptive as possible in terms of skin colour. She’s tan now, but has visible tan lines. If there are any issues with descriptions or inclusivity please let me know, and this goes for all my fics.

Summary: Javi can finally make up for some lost time.

Masterlist

Sunburn

Yeah. They were embarrassing as hell.

The stark contrast of crisp skin next to skin that hadn’t been touched by the sun was absolutely embarrassing.

And Javi fucking loved it.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned while pulling the straps of my tank top off my shoulders. “Look at you.”

It had been a few weeks of pain, peeling, and pouting. All I wanted was for Javi to touch me, but I had to wait for my skin to fully heal. Then when it started peeling I was just too grossed out to let him touch me too much. By the end of it we were both so desperate for each other.

I had been out in the garden for the day while he was helping his father. When it was finally supper time he practically ran home. I had to push him into the shower after he saw my tan skin on display. I had already showered which caused him to wear an adorable pout the entire time.

We ate together with his hand glued to my thigh. We were usually very relaxed and wore just a shirt and our underwear when it was just us around the house, but it didn’t help me hide the arousal that stirred between my thighs. When we finished he instructed me to go sit on the bed while he did the dishes.

I was nearly vibrating by the time he finally walked into the room, a look on his face that could only be described as a hunter stalking his prey. I was glued to the spot on the bed, perched there waiting for when he would finally decide to strike.

When he made his way over and placed his lips on mine he kissed me with a fire that made me feel like my skin was burning again. I moaned into the kiss as his tongue swiped across my lower lip, pulling it between his teeth. One of his hands cradled my face while the other buried itself into my hair. He finally pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.

“I need you, (Y/N).” His breath fanned across my lips. “So very much.”

“I’m all yours, Javi,” I said.

I could feel him smiling. “Good girl.”

He helped me stand up and brushed my hair back behind my shoulders. My tan lines were revealed, inch by inch, while he slid my straps down my shoulders. I hadn’t worn a bra since I had been settling in for the night, and when he pulled the fabric of my tank top down further he was able to see where the lines of sun soaked skin ended. His mustache tickled me as his lips traced over each line, pressing soft kisses until they became deeper, wetter.

His tongue poked out to swipe at the skin, causing me to throw my head back in a moan. “Javi, fuck.”

“Mm, not yet, cariño.” Javi hummed against me, setting my skin alight. “I’m going to take my time with you. Show you everything you missed, all because you made a mistake.”

I groaned. Of course he was going to pull that card. He had been an absolute tease the entire time I was healing. When my skin hurt too much to touch he would instead use his eyes. I could barely get through a sentence without him staring at my lips, biting his own until I was a stuttering mess. He’d ask what was wrong, but his eyes held that mischievous twinkle.

When my skin was peeling, I was too grossed out to let him touch me. “I look like a lizard!” I had said one night when his hand was creeping up my thigh.

“That’s alright,” he had practically cooed in my ear. “I can wait. Then my baby will see what she’s been missing.”

The threat wasn’t the usual kind. I was used to being on the verge of tears after he had threatened to not let me cum, and had held true to his word. Or the threat of spanking me if I didn’t smarten up. But that time I wasn’t sure what I’d be in for. Especially since I had to wait to see what he’d do.

His hands slid from my straps to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up until I raised my arms. “There we go, that’s my girl.”

The air felt good on my skin, making my nipples pebble before his eyes. I didn’t miss the way his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his lips at the sight.

“My god. It’s like they’re on display for me.” His hands reached up and cupped them, his palms warm and comforting. “You’re so beautiful.”

He lowered his head and brought one of my nipples into his mouth, while his fingers flicked over the other one. I twitched when I felt his teeth scrape against the sensitive nub, and shivered when he chuckled.

“Why don’t you get more comfortable, hm?” His eyes were wide, usually a softer look on him. But the darkness of his pupil swallowed any innocence. He wasn’t asking. “Lay down.”

I did as he said, making sure I put a pillow under my head. He smiled, a softness flashing in his eyes before it was replaced yet again by that menacing look.

“My baby is so good for me, isn’t she?” I felt the rumble of his voice through my veins.

“Yes,” I said, my voice as soft as a whisper.

“Yes, what?”

I gulped. “Yes, daddy.”

His eyes widened for a split second as his lips parted around a tiny gasp.

We didn’t always explore that side of us, and whenever we did he let me be the one to choose that path. However, when we did explore it, I usually found myself getting completely lost in him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

I wasn’t sure if I believed in heaven, but I certainly believed in Javi.

“Good,” his voice like velvet wrapped around my senses, “good girl.”

I smiled at him, while he started to strip. His shirt was pulled up and off, revealing his always tanned skin that I was usually jealous of, and the ripples of his muscles as he threw his shirt to the side. His hands lowered to his briefs, and I could see the outline of his cock pushing through. The fabric was lowered so slowly that I was practically drooling by the time the base of his cock was shown.

“Please,” I whimpered before even realizing the word left my lips.

“Patience,” he growled. “You’ll get what I give you, when I give it. Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby.”

My eyes flicked down to his hands once again, and he finally pulled his briefs all the way down. His cock sprang up and bobbed in the air, the tip swollen and a deep pink. I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth to hide the moan I felt stirring in my chest.

He walked forward until his knees met the bed and he started to crawl toward me on them while his hand fisted his cock. The muscles in his forearm shifted under the skin as his fingers squeezed over his head every time his hand pulled forward. Even if he hadn’t asked me to watch him I probably wouldn’t have been able to look away.

When he reached me he parted my legs. I could feel the air cooling where I was wet between my thighs, and his eyes immediately found the spot. He reached his hand forward and dragged a knuckle against the damp fabric, making my breath hitch.

“As much as I love to see how wet you are,” he began, pulling his hand away, “I’m going to ignore this little pussy for now, okay?”

“B-but,” I stuttered.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, shaking his head. “When I tell you I’m doing something, what do we say?”

“Okay, daddy.”

He smirked. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.” I could feel myself getting wetter, and more impatient, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Javi crawled over me, his length a heavy weight on my abdomen. I sighed as he pressed his lips to my forehead.

“My good girl. All mine.” He said, then he kissed my lips.

We moaned into each other's mouths as our tongues danced together. He pulled away and a string of saliva kept us connected until he was too far away. His lips and teeth made their way down my jaw and neck until he reached my chest. We had an agreement that we couldn’t leave any marks where people could see, which meant it was only when I was getting dressed in the morning or undressed at the end of the day that I got to see the bruises forming the shape of his teeth that littered my breasts and thighs. At times even my tummy had a mark or two sucked deep into the skin.

His teeth nipped at the thinner flesh of my breast and I gasped. He immediately soothed the ache with a swipe of his tongue and the press of his lips. We also had an agreement not to cause too much pain, since I was also a bit of a baby. Luckily he knew me well enough to know my limits, and how to push them just right.

“Want me to suck on your nipples? I know you love it,” he said, his lips brushing my skin. I writhed on the bed when his lips closed around a nipple, pulling it onto his tongue. When he pulled away he made sure to look into my eyes. “You know I love it too.”

I whimpered when he lowered his head once more, kneading my other breast with his hand. His tongue flattened against my nipple as he dragged it over top. He kissed his way across my chest until he got to the other one and repeated the process. When I couldn’t lay still on the bed he finally pulled away, looking satisfied with his work.

His eyes flickered to mine. “I want to try something.”

“I trust you.” The words tumbled out of my mouth immediately, because they were true.

Javi sat up and brought his hand to my jaw. His thumb tapped on my lips until I opened them, allowing it to land on my tongue. I sealed my lips around him and sucked, watching as his eyes fluttered shut and praises fell from his lips. When he recovered from the sensation, he continued to keep his thumb in my mouth while he moved his body so he was straddling my middle. He pulled his thumb from my mouth and grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head.

I shivered as he traced a finger along the tan lines made from my bikini top, over my shoulders, down to the curve of my breasts. He followed the lines until he got to the middle, then paused.

“I want to see my cock between these beautiful, beautiful tits, baby.”

I immediately moaned at the thought. We hadn’t tried it before, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about it.

He smirked. “You like that idea?”

“Yes, please, daddy,” I nearly panted, just wanting him to make a move.

“Gotta make it nice and wet though,” he cupped my jaw again, tapping his thumb on my lower lip. “Open up for me, baby.”

My jaw stretched with how wide I opened my mouth, my tongue laying out on my bottom lip.

He moved himself up until his cock was at my mouth, then he held himself in one hand to guide his cock onto my tongue. I closed my eyes and sighed at the taste of him. It felt like I had been waiting forever to feel the heft of him settling in my mouth.

“Eyes on me, hermosa,” he instructed, my eyes snapping open to obey. “You’re so perfect for me, doing so good.”

I hummed around his length as he shifted his hips, sliding in and out of the heat of my mouth. Although he was turned on before, I could still feel his cock hardening slightly more.

“Oh, baby,” he moaned while tilting his head to the ceiling. “This mouth is so good, so fucking good.”

My eyelids felt heavy and threatened to close, letting me lose myself in the pleasure of making Javi feel good. But even if I wanted to I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. The way his jaw flexed, the muscles fluttering, his hair disheveled, and when he brought his eyes back to mine I was a goner. They were blown nearly black, the intensity making me squeeze my thighs together as they pinned me there. All his for the taking.

It felt too early when he pulled himself away, and when I whined he chuckled.

“I know, mi amor.” He maneuvered himself so he was straddling my upper torso again, stroking his cock that was wet from my mouth. “You like making daddy feel good, don’t you?”

Javi reached behind him and slid his fingers into the front of my underwear. His lips parted on a sharp intake of breath.

“So wet, (Y/N).” He brushed against my clit and my body jerked from the contact. “These panties are soaked, and this poor, little clit wants attention, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” I said, panting. “Please.”

He pulled away and I whined once more. “Soon, hermosa.”

Javi let go of his cock and it landed on me with a wet slap between my breasts. He brought his hands to my chest and began kneading the skin there, his fingers indenting in and his thumbs flicking over my nipples. His cock was nestled snug as he pushed my breasts together.

I wiggled on the bed as the heat of him soaked into my sensitive skin. Even though he was still a bit wet from my mouth the feeling was too dry, but just watching him turned me on too much to care. Before I could think about it anymore, he leaned down a bit and spit directly onto his cock. I arched my back as much as the weight of him would allow and moaned.

He smirked. “I know, baby, you like that? Want me to spit on these gorgeous tits?”

I didn’t even have to answer, he repeated his action. The heat of his spit warmed my chest, and my arousal practically pooled between my thighs. I squeezed them together to try and relieve some of the pressure while Javi picked up his pace. The squelching of his cock mixed with his spit filled the room, echoing off the walls and into my ears.

My words jumbled together in a mixture of ‘yes’, ‘please’, and ‘daddy’, as he lost himself in the pleasure.

“Open your mouth, (Y/N),” he commanded. I did as he asked, and completely gave myself over to him as he spit directly onto my tongue. “Swallow. Good girl, such a good girl, fuck. Show me your tongue.”

Once again I obeyed and felt him push further forward, bumping the head of his cock against my tongue. Precum leaked from his tip and connected us in a string as he pushed himself between my tits and onto my tongue over and over again. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he took what he needed and I gave him everything I had.

Finally he pulled away and I whined. “Oh, hermosa, I know you were having fun but I need to be inside you.”

I smiled at that and wiggled my hips as he made his way between my legs. His fingers were bruising as he spread my thighs and eyed the wet patch on my underwear.

“You’re so wet, fuck.” Javi’s voice was strained, but soothing to my ears. “Want me to take care of this pussy?”

“Yes, please, daddy.” I barely recognized my voice in those moments, completely given over to pleasure. “I need you so, so bad.”

“Lo sé, baby,” he cooed while slowly pulling the fabric off my hips and down my legs. “I’ll take care of you. Doesn’t daddy always take care of his girl?”

I nodded frantically, and when he pinched my thigh I gasped out, “yes, daddy, always.”

He leaned down and traced his tongue along the tan lines on my hips. “You look so good like this, but I need to see this ass.”

He wedged his hand between my body and the bed, maneuvering me so I was flipped over. I helped him and got comfortable on my stomach while he reached over and grabbed a pillow.

“Lift your hips,” he said, tapping a finger on my side.

I did as he said and he wedged the pillow under me so my ass was higher up.

“Look at you, being such a good girl, following all of daddy’s instructions.” Javi leant down and placed a kiss on the base of my spine. “And look at this ass, so perfect.”

His hands reached up and palmed both cheeks, kneading them. I felt the air brush against my most intimate parts as he spread me. Embarrassment at being under his watchful gaze crept up my chest, and I hid my face in my pillow. He must have felt how tense I got because he smoothed a hand up my spine.

“Is my baby feeling shy?” I nodded into the pillow. “Oh, you poor thing, there’s no need. Daddy’s got you, just relax.”

I turned my head so my cheek was smushed into the pillow and I could look at him over my shoulder. His hands were on my body but his eyes were on mine, giving me an immediate sense of calm.

Javi had seen every part of me before, and not just physically. He’d seen me at my most stressed, upset, angry. He’d also seen me at my happiest, usually in his arms.

The past few weeks he’d seen me as red as a lobster, and although it was embarrassing, he stuck by my side and reassured me with a burning kiss on my forehead that I was still so beautiful in his eyes.

So why should I suddenly feel embarrassed about being completely bared to him? There was no need. I knew he would always take care of me.

I felt my shoulders melt away from my ears, and it was like each column of my spine slowly unlocked. I became putty in his hands.

“That’s my girl,” he practically purred before placing another searing kiss on my spine.

I felt him spread me once more and he inhaled sharply. His thumb pressed against the tight ring of muscle and I sighed at the feeling. It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched me there before, but it was rare that I was on display while he did. Usually it was just while he was already doing something else, and usually I had something else inside me. We had discussed anal before and it wasn’t something I felt the need to try, but I couldn’t deny how good it felt when he would play with me.

I gasped when I felt something wet land on my asshole, and when he groaned I knew what it was. He spit once again, and the wetness intensified. I moaned at the feeling, wiggling my hips under his grip.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me. Being so patient.” He spit once more, sliding his thumb around and coating me. “You look so good like this, you’re practically dripping for me. You like when daddy plays with your ass?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, panting slightly. “Feels so good.”

One finger slipped to my clit, while his thumb pressed harder against the muscle. I could feel him slipping in slightly and groaned at the intrusion. Just giving myself over to him had me feeling like I was going to cum any second, and the way his finger circled my clit with perfect pressure had me barreling toward that finish line.

“I can feel you tensing up, baby, you gonna cum for me?” I moaned in response which made him smack his palm down onto my ass. “Use your words, (Y/N).”

“Yes, daddy. I’m gonna cum, daddy,” I whimpered.

“Good,” he growled, then I felt him shift on the bed.

I hadn’t realized my eyes were closed until they snapped open at the feeling of his tongue flattening against my asshole. Another whimper left my mouth that ended in a groan. He still circled my clit while his other hand held me open for his mouth. The sounds of my wetness and his tongue sliding against me were obscene, especially when he started fucking his tongue into me.

I panted, moaned, and writhed on the bed.

“That’s it,” he said between licks and fucks. “Push your hips back, baby, cum on my face.”

That’s all he needed to say before my orgasm overtook me. I pushed my ass back against him over and over while his fingers and tongue worked to bring me back down to earth. When I finally settled my throat felt hoarse and my bones liquified.

His hands smoothed up my sides as he slid his body over mine. I sighed as his weight settled over my back, his hands on either side of my shoulders making sure he wasn’t completely squishing me. Not that I minded. I felt as though he was keeping me grounded, my breathing evening out further and further at the press of him against me.

I felt his cock nestle against my ass, and rocked myself forward, both of us moaning together.

“Baby, fuck, you feel so good.” His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“Please,” I breathed, “I need you.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pushing himself up enough so he could fist his cock and line up against me. “You need me to fuck you?”

I moaned as the blunt head of his cock pushed against my entrance. “Yes, please, daddy. Please fuck me.”

His cock pushed into me slowly, the stretch had me rolling my eyes into the back of my head as my toes curled. I felt like my body was melting into the exact shape he needed, completely made for his cock.

“You take me so well,” he panted, starting a steady pace. “You always take me so well, my good, good girl.”

We gasped and moaned and panted together as his hips pushed into my ass over and over again. He dropped himself down again so he was pressed to my back while he continued to rut into me. My thighs clenched, adding more pressure to my clit, the friction making a second orgasm start to approach faster than I could have anticipated.

“Can feel you clenching around my cock, so warm and wet. Fuck, you gonna cum again?” His words spurred me on, a heat building in my abdomen and spreading down my thighs. “Cum for me, baby, please cum for me.”

I moaned out and felt myself teeter along the edge, just one more push was all I needed. As if he could read my mind his hand slipped up and around my throat, squeezing just enough to cause stars to erupt along the edges of my vision.

“Cum for daddy,” he growled in my ear, his hand keeping me in place while he buried his cock even deeper.

“Fuck!” I cried out, cumming hard underneath him. My senses were filled with his smell, his touch, his sounds. I was all his.

Javi groaned and sunk his teeth into my shoulder, right where the tan line of my bikini strap was, as his body shuddered. His cock pulsed inside me as hot ropes of cum painted my walls. His body melted against mine even further once he was done, and he licked and kissed along my shoulder where I had no doubt there was an indent of his teeth.

We sighed together, finally relaxing fully, and he slipped off of me. He pulled my body against him and held me in his arms. I could feel his cum stick to my inner thighs, but I didn’t want to think about moving until my heart stopped beating so fast.

He kissed the top of my head while his hand cradled the back of it.

“So,” I started, my voice coming out smaller since my throat was still aching slightly, “the tan lines really do it for you?”

Javi laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and making me smile. “Yeah, I guess they do. But at the end of the day you just do it for me in general.”

I tilted my head up so I could lose myself in the warmth of his eyes. “Even when I was a lobster?”

His lips tilted into a smirk. “I think the lobster thing got me the most.”

My jaw dropped in shock. “Hey!”

He laughed again, pulling my face back into his chest. “I’m kidding, baby. Please try to be more responsible next time, okay?”

My arms tightened around him as I nuzzled my cheek into his skin. “I promise, Javi.”

———

Taglist: @sullyosully @ashleymsnodgrass

[my-blind-album]

Leonora Lesso x Fem!Reader - My Redhead

***

16 years ago

"And that's the story about how Rafal supposedly died and then Rhian had no choice but to run both schools," "Whoa!" "Mhm," she tugged a strand of hair behind Y/n ear as he tucked her daughter into bed. "Mom?" "Hm?" "Is the school for good and evil real?" "I don't know Mon Chérie, it might be," she leaves a peck on Y/n's head. "Goodnight," she makes her way to the door but Y/n stops her in her tracks. "Ma mere?" "Oui?" "If the school for good and evil was every real and I got accepted where do you think I'd be?" she laughs her daughters question. "It's not my question to answer, Mon Chérie" "Then whose is it?" Y/n asks "Nobody's" she laughs out and Y/n gives her mother a confused look. "It all depends on what you do and who you are in heart, which do you think you're in?" her mother shoots back the question. "I don't know I'm not a goody princess but I'm not an evil person" "Then you'll find out when you finally know who you are," with that Y/n's mother leaves the room and Y/n is left in her thoughts, 'Am i good or am i evil?'

She was left in her thoughts till she looked outside the window staring out at the moon. Her second favourite thing in world, after her mother of course. She was about to fall into deep sleep till the sky turned into a blood red colour and Y/n started to rub her eyes thinking she was dreaming but it was still red and then she noticed a pair of red eyes surrounded by black smoke look at her through her window. She grabbed a shoe of hers from the floor and slowly moved towards the red eyes. She was about to reach the window till the eyes turned a different direction and quickly left. 'How odd' she thought. Moving close to the window to try and spot the red eyes from before till someone jumped up from hiding standing in front of the window and Y/n flinched and screamed before dropping her shoe on the ground. 

The person who seemed rather short knocked on the window and Y/n went to the window to try and get a closer look of the person's face while being cautious of her actions. The closer she got the more clearer the person seemed and Y/n noticed it was her redheaded best friend. "Leonora?" Y/n asks "Hey, Y/n could you open the window please?" without hesitation she opened the window and let her best friend enter the room. "What are you doing here?" "Mom and Dad were fighting and I decided to run away then I was walking in the streets and noticed the sky went red and a black shadow thing with red eyes saw in front of your window and I tried shooing it away but it came to me and knocked me on the ground and now I have these scares on me," 

Before Y/n could answer her mother burst through the door and looked at her daughter and was surprised to see the redhead here. "Leonora, what are doing here?" "Her Mom and Dad were fighting again and she ran away, can she please stay here?" Y/n's mother looked at the both of them with their pleading eyes on their faces. She gives into them and agrees. "Alright but only for the week, okay?" "Yes, Auntie!" "Yes, Ma Mere!" "I'll tell your parents you're here, Leo," "Thank you Auntie!" she nods and is about to leave till Y/n calls for her. "Ma Mere, we saw the sky turn red!" "Oui Auntie! and then the was a black shadow with red eyes in front of Y/n's window," "Then Leo shooed it away" "Oh! Mon Dieu, Leonora you have bruises on you" "The red eyed creature pushed her to the ground," "Oh- okay let me get the first aid kit, alright?" Y/n's mother left looking for the first aid kit. 

A Few Hours Later

"Y/n did you hear the story of the school for good and evil?" Leonora asked "Yes, my mom told it to me, today" Y/n replied to her half asleep. "Do you think it's real?" "I hope so, I wanna go there" "Me too! Which school do you think you'll go to?" "I'm not sure, you?" "I want to be in the school for evil and be a powerful villain like Maleficent or The Evil Queen" "If you ever become evil I'll be your assistant" "Really?" "Yes, you're my best friend and I love you no matter what"  "I love you too, Y/n" 

***

Narrator; 16 years have passed and now little miss Y/n is not so little anymore. She's now 24 and works as an assistant in her mother's library. Years have passed ever since her mother last told her the story for good and evil and she never got to be accepted or knew whether or not the school was real or not but then 8 years ago when Y/n was only 16 years old her best friend Leonora went missing and rumours had it that she disappeared when the sky was blood red and taken away by a black shadow with red eyes that being the one you once saw as a little kid and since then Y/n had made it her mission to search for her best friend. 

Present Time

"Freaks!" "Losers!" I watched as the carriage with the a bunch of the village kids move away calling me and 2 other girls names and just roll my eyes as I continue walking around with my cat. Lunar. "Y/n?" I froze hearing someone calling my name, I turned around and spotted the girls who were also called names and I recognised them to be Sophie and Agatha as they were my mother's favourite costumers. "Sop, Aggie how are girls both doing?" "Good," Sophie responds and Agatha looks at me confused. "What are you doing in this part of the forest, I'm not used to seeing you here," I was fighting on whether or not I should mention about my search for my long-lost best friend who was supposedly kidnapped by a red eyed creature and never to be seen again. "Walking," "Walking? Really?" Sophie nudged her friend in the stomach "Ouch!" she yelped. "Forget about her, we were actually on our way to the village to gather some books from Mrs Deauville's bookshop wanna come?" "Well might as well head home since Lunar seems a bit tired," "How long have you been walking in the forest?" Sophie asks "Since 6am, why?" "Y/n it's literally 3pm," Agatha says receiving another punch from Sophie as she nervously laughs. "Shall we go?" Agatha and I share a look before leaving. 

At Mrs Deauville's Bookshop 

"Ah! My favourite readers," "Afternoon Mrs Deauville," Sophie greets cheerily "Afternoon," Agatha greets plainly but with a small smile on her face. "Afternoon Ma Mere," I say placing a kiss on my mother's cheek and place Lunar onto the counter and she meows at my mother. "Hello Mon Chérie," she says to me and pats Lunar on the head as she purrs softly. "Its a good thing you stopped by, girls, we had a big delivery yesterday," my mother says to Sophie and Agatha placing a crater loaded with books. "Any ghost stories?" Agatha asks "Yes, a few interesting-looking ones," "Any new fairy-tales?" Sophie asks hopeful "Not anything you haven't already read, fillette," my mother responds. "Whose SGE?" Agatha asks looking at a symbol inside a book. "It's not a who it's a what" "Alright what is SGE?" "It's the school for Good And Evil," "What happens there?" "Well um" my mother looks up at me as if asking for permission to discuss the topic and I nod my head taking Lunar in my arms before exiting the library and running back to the forest while ignoring the weird glances I receiving from people. 

At The Forest

I was sitting at a tree with Lunar in my arms fast asleep but I still continued to pat her head. 'What am I supposed to do Leonora?' I thought to myself looking at the clear sky. 'I've tried searching but I can't find you'  I was about to leave till I heard some noises coming from the bushes. I froze in place as the bush kept on shaking and Lunar had already woken up from her nap due to the sound of the bushes disrupting her sleep. The noise of whatever was in the bushes kept getting louder supposedly meaning that the ting was getting closer. Holding Lunar tightly in arms as she dug her nails into my clothing. "Argh!" the creature in the bushes made a human sound which seemed recognisable. "Why are forests filled with so many bushes?!" the thing complained.

 "Sophie?"

 I say as Sophie comes out of the bushes with a basket on her wrist. "Ah-um, Y/n what are you doing here?" "Thinking, you? and where's Agatha?" she rushes towards me covering my mouth with her hand. "Please don't tell her that I'm here, please?" I sigh "Alright but what are you doing here?" she sighs before inhaling deeply "I'm leaving" "What? as in out of Gavaldon?" "Yes?" she flinches at me waiting for my reaction "I'm going with," "What?" "I'm going with," "Why?" she said relaxing that I didn't shout at her decision to leave. "I need to look for someone I lost years ago," "Leonora?" my eyes widen in shock and she raised her hands defensively "Your mother told me and Agatha while you went," I relax a bit "And also you not gonna be able to survive without me, lets admit it," I place my hands on my hip and she just rolls her eyes in agreement. "True," I nod and we walk towards the exit from Gavaldon. "Won't your mother be worried?" "No, she knows that one day I was gonna leave Gavaldon for good and she always encouraged me to do so," Sophie hums "What about your family?" "Well I couldn't care less for my step-mother and my annoying little brothers," she says coldly clearly those people stroked a nerve in her veins cause I've never seen this side of her before. "What about your dad?" she then stops in her tracks before shaking her head and gaining back consciousness "I don't know," I just take her answer not wanting to pressure her. 

We already made it to the exit and it was already night. I picked Lunar of the ground so I don't lose her. "Well we're off then," I say. "Okay," 

"SOPHIE! WAIT!" 

"Shit," "What?" I ask. 

"It's Agatha," 

"Damnit," 

A breathless Agatha comes in front of Sophie gripping onto her arms tightly. "What are you doing?" "Nothing, I was with-" Agatha looks behind her and sees the sign saying 'Leaving Gavaldan' and her eyes widen as she clicks the pieces together. "You were gonna leave Gavaldon?" "Agatha, please listen to me-" "You were gonna leave me?" Her voice breaks a little cause of her watery eyes. "I can't settle for an ordinary life, Aggie," "So what you're just gonna leave me here? I thought we were best friends?" "We are it's just that-" "No! we aren't! cause best friend stick together!" 

The sky was turning red and it was getting really dark, too dark to even see anything at all. This was it, this was the same red sky that appeared when Leonora was taken. "I'm coming for you Leo," Y/n whispered to herself.

 "So just come with me so we can live this rotten town!" "I can't my mom needs me! And so does your family!" "I can't go back to that family!" "They love you Sop," "No they don't," "I love you," Sophie keeps her head down. "So please don't leave,"

The wind was starting to get really strong. 

"Um girls-" 

"Aggie," 

"Sop, please just think about this again," 

"Aggie I-," 

Before Sophie could finish her sentence, a large bird swooped down and grabbed onto Y/n and started to drag her away.

 "AHA!" 

"Sop?" 

Sophie was about to respond till she heard a scream, of a familiar voice and lifted her head up to be mortified by the sight she was seeing. "Y/N!" she chased after her and once Agatha turned around she saw Y/n been dragged by a huge bird. "Oh my god!" she ran after her. Sophie caught up to the bird and gripped on it's legs and Agatha did the same on the other but it was useless cause the bird was trillion times they're size and they were being dragged as well. "What are we gonna do?!" Sophie screamed out. "There's an edge!!" Agatha cried out seeing that there was a cliff at the end. "Let go!" "We can't do that Aggie!" "Girls don't let go at all costs!" Y/n cried out. "But there's a cliff," "Just hold on tight," Before Agatha could argue back the bird and taken off and now they were in the air and sooner a random portal opened up and the bird flow through it and now they were in another place. 

"What the-" Agatha said was cut off by Sophie screaming cheerfully "It's real?!" 

"What?" Agatha asked.

 "The School For Good and Evil," Y/n softly said as a small smile appeared on her lips. 

'I've made it Leo'

The bird was coming closer to the schools and Y/n, Sophie & Agatha could properly see the schools clearly now. 

"Look that must be the school for good!" Sophie said looking at the golden palace. The place it's self seemed like a setting fit for royalty with it's beautiful and large flower garden, the shining sun showing off the gold around the castle. 'I can't believe that this was actually real'. "And that must be for the evil," Agatha said lowly. I turned my head to the other school and this was one was simply the opposite of the school for good. It was dark and gloomy, it looked like a prison cell more than an actual school. 'Where could you be Leo?' 

The bird was leaning over to the school for good. "Sophie we have to go back!" "What?!" "I said we have to go bac-" Agatha was dropped into the school of good and Sophie started screaming no. The bird was now leaning over to the school for evil and this was when Sophie lost it. "No! You don't understand, I'm not supposed to be here my friend is supposed to be here! I should be in the school for go-" The bird dropped Sophie in the school for evil and moved away.

 "Wait where am I going?"

The bird squawked. "Your going to the headmaster's tower" 

"You can talk?!" 

"No- wait you can understand me?" 

"Yeah! What the hell is going on!" 

"Well that's new, guess the headmaster will sort you out," 

"Wait! How can I understand what you're saying-" 

The bird dropped Y/n onto the middle of the two schools, she expected to hit the brick bridge and shut her eyes bracing herself for impact. After a while of screaming her lungs of Y/n felt like she wasn't moving and opening her eyes softly to see that she landed on the bridge on her two feet.  

"What the actual f-" 

"Welcome Miss Y/n Deauville, to the School For Good and Evil," A voice spoke out and I turned my head to see a man in a rather aesthetic robe with round glasses, a bald head, a beard and a smile on his face. This totally doesn't remind me of a certain wizard. 

"I'm Headmaster Rhian but you can call me Headmaster," 

"Oh okay," 

I know this is rather odd for an introduction so why don't you enter my office and I'll explain everything to you there. He walks away to the middle of the bridge and I follow behind him and he gets on the bridge and steps his foot out, I shut my eyes. I just arrived and already there's a suicide attempt? I just wanna find my Leo for god's sakes. 

"Come one, time doesn't stop for no one,"  the headmaster speaks out and I open my eyes in shock, he's walking on the air? "Don't worry, they are stairs they're just invisible to the human eye," I follow behind him carefully placing my foot onto the first steps and continuing on. Eventually we made it up to his office and wow, it's huge. "Now we can discuss everything, like I said I am the Headmaster of both this schools and you my dear are a very lucky person," "In what sense?" I ask. "You've been chosen by the Storian," "Whose that?" The headmaster tilts his head to the side a bit signalling for me to look to the left and I turn my head confused but my eyes land on a glowing book that has a feather pen writing on it. "Wait so the Storians a book and pen?" The headmaster nods his head. "Yes, the Storian is the one in charge of writing everyone's fairy-tale story and it has begun to write yours," "Mine? why me? I'm not magical," "Are you sure about that? If I remember correctly you managed to talk to one of those birds," "That was magic?" "Indeed," "Thought I was smoking crack," I whispered to myself but heard the Headmaster laugh. "Oh sorry," "It's fine but I must say that you seemed to be quite the early bird," "What do you mean?" "No one usually comes to this place already unlocking they're magical abilities," "So I'm one of those rare people?" "More like you are those rare people, you're the first to have that happen to themselves," "Oh," "But no need to worry it's nothing to be worried of,"

 "Okay, wait what about Sophie and Agatha?" "Oh those two, well you see they're Readers, they people whoonly get to read about the amazing adventures that originate here," "Wait so you're telling me that Tiana, Mulan and Merida all like schooled in these same places?" "Mhm, and so did they're villains," "That's amazing wait so was the Mad Hatter in the school for good or evil?" "We consider him to be good," "And what about Goldilocks?" "Good," "Peter Pan?" "Good," "Wow," "So Agatha and Sophie have they're own fairy-tale being written?" "Indeed," "So what am I? Since I technically landed on the bridge rather than either of the schools?" "You'll be my co-partner in running the schools and once I retire you'll be the new Headmaster," "No way, that's amazing, I'd love that," "That's good to hear but I must warn you the work load is quite hefty," "I can manage, I'm very organized," "Well then I'm you feel that way, before I forget we should head to the assembly so that you'll be able to meet the deans of the schools including the professors," "Okay," 

A gust of blue dust surrounds me and later disappears and I look down to see myself wearing a new outfit from before. "Thought you might want to get into the fairy-tale look," "Thank you," "It is my pleasure,"

[imagine it in a darker colour of grey/black/white]

"And I won't be able to make it so you would have to address yourself in front of the students, professors and deans, are you alright with that?" "Yes, a little stage fright couldn't hurt anybody," I laugh nervously before stopped. "Right?" "You'll be excellent," "Alright and a little birdy told me this but if you wondering where Leonora is, I can assure you that she's here and she missed you too," A smile lights up on my face. "Thank you Headmaster," He nods his head. Another gust of blue surrounds both me and before I knew it, I ended up in the hall room, receiving glances and stares from everyone.

'Fuck my life' 

***

"Um, Good Afternoon, Students, Professors and Deans," the room was still silent and Y/n swallowed down her nervousness, she took a deep breath before straightening her posture and looking up at everyone with a beaming smile. "My name is Y/n Deauville, and I am the Headmaster new and first, partner which means I will also be your Headmaster but only for the school for evil," 

Y/n's POV

A student from the school of good raises her hand. "Yes?" "Why aren't you the Headmaster for the school of good?" "Because of some personal reasons," Another student from the school of evil raises his hand. "Yes?" "Are you part of any fairy tale?" "Uh- no I'm not from the fairy-tale world, I actually come from a normal non-magic town called Gavaldon," The students begin to break into whispers and I can hear a few rather harsh...comments about me. A loud bang echoes through the room and my attention turns towards the source which is form a lady in a black suit and she had red curly hair and in one of her hands she had a cane. "Silence everyone, that's not how we treat our Headmasters or else doom room," she speaks up hushing the students. Our eyes finally lock even from afar I could recognise those eyes from anywhere. 

'Leonora?'

:)

[elisysd]

Power - Little Mix

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

You shoud know, I'm the one who's in control I'll let you come take the wheel, long a you don't forget Who got the power?

After much hesitation, Lyanna finally agreed to appear in the interview that Charles would give on Ferrari's social networks. What neither she nor Charles had anticipated, however, was that Ferrai would make a public announcement of her participation and invite the tifosis to ask whatever questions they wished, resulting in an alarming number of questions about their relationship rather than Charles' ambitions and the 2024 season.

It was in the middle of the week, at 8am one morning, that the Scuderia media team and Silvia arrived at Charles' house with cameras and microphones. They spent an hour setting up the equipment and arranging the room to create an aesthetically pleasing setting for the shoot. Charles and Lyanna then had their make-up and hair done and the microphones set up.

Lyanna didn't feel comfortable, despite the fact that it was far from being her first interview and that the cameras on her didn't really bother her. On the other hand, it was the first time she had allowed her private life to be voluntarily exposed. She hoped she wasn't opening the door to too many excesses, even if Charles had made it clear to Silvia that this kind of interview was the first and last.

She took a seat on a chair next to the camera, which was pointed at the pilot, who, seeing the stress on the young woman's face, desperately tried to relax her by making faces in her direction.

The interview began. Charles recounted what it was like for him at the time of the crash, what he remembered and what happened afterwards. His convalescence, the importance of mental strength and how the desire to get back into an F1 car and wear the Ferrari colours again had motivated him, along with the importance of the support of those close to him, without whom it would not have been possible.

Then it was Lyanna's turn. She in turn took her place in the same spot where Charles had been sitting a few moments earlier as he stood facing her, taking care to remain within her line of sight to reassure her. Lyanna couldn't help fidgeting with her fingers.

“So Lyanna, can you tell us what you recall from the accident?” asked her Silvia

“Honestly? Not that much…It was like I was dissociating from everything. My body was there but my mind was elsewhere. The only thought I had was him, in that car, and not knowing if he was alive or…” she shook her hear as if it could keep away the bad thoughts. “I kept replaying the last words I said to him. Then, Fred gave me his headset so I could be connected to Charles’ radio, so could talk to him and when I heard nothing but white noise it felt like the ground was collapsing under me. I know that it was just two minutes between the actual crash and learning that he was alive, but to me it felt so much longer.”

“Is it something you had prepared yourself for? Having to witness a car crash.”

“I mean, I know that when Charles gets in the car, there is a possibility of him having an accident. But I’m not expecting the worst. There is a whole team behind that is supposed to make sure that he comes back in one piece. So I’m not scared. I try to not show that it’s stressing me out because I know that Charles doesn’t need to see me worried before a race.”

They continued talking for a few more minutes. Lyanna mentioned how she had been by Charles' side during his convalescence and how annoying he had been. This was supposed to be the light moment of the video. Charles then took his place alongside his girlfriend for the Q&A.

“So this question is for Charles: how important is your girlfriend in your day to day life since the crash.”

“She had been the most supportive person. Always there to help me when I couldn’t even get out of the bed. Always encouraging me. I haven’t been the easiest person to be around, and I’m sorry about that, Lya. I haven’t been appreciative enough.”

“Lyanna: What was the most difficult part about having Charles sick at home?”

“Watching him watch the races and endure all his complaints about how he should be there and how he would have driven every single corner. Positive side of it, I’m beginning to understand F1 better. Negative side, he was really annoying.”

“Could we expect to see you more on the tracks for 2024 season?”

“Well, it’s going to depend on a lot of things but even if I can’t be physically there, I will always cheer him on from whenever I am.”

The interview came to an end and Lyanna was relieved to see the team soon leaving the flat. She wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing the final result, she just hoped that the editing would reflect what she had said and that the video wouldn't be dramatised.

That evening, over pizza for Lyanna and a salad for Charles, who was on a diet, Charles asked her if she had any plans for the following day. He wanted to spend some time with his girlfriend alone, feeling that it had been far too long since that had happened, between their argument and his trip to Maranello. He was therefore surprised when she told him that she had planned a day's shopping to buy presents for her family and also for Charles's, not wanting to appear ungrateful by coming empty-handed.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked her.

“No, it’s fine. I’m already meeting someone there and it would spoil the fun if you already knew your Christmas present, don’t you think?” she replied, which piqued the Monegasque's curiosity even more.

“Who are you going to meet? You don’t know anyone in Monaco?”

“Well first of all, thank you for making me look like a recluse who won't come out of her cave. And second, I kind of befriended Charlotte.”

 Charles dropped his fork in surprise and it landed on his trousers, leaving a stain of vinaigrette in the process.

“When you say Charlotte, you talk about Charlotte my ex-girlfriend who was at my birthday or you happen to know another Charlotte who lives in Monaco?”

“We are thinking of the same Charlotte.” Confirmed Lyanna.

“But… Okay, I have a few questions. When? How? Why? Don’ get me wrong, I have no problem with it and I’m happy that you are making friends but… she’s my ex-girlfirend?”

“I mean… it happened. She really helped me understanding some things and put my thoughts in order. She was really straightforward about what I should expect as your girlfriend and she was kind enough to answer my questions. And then we just bonded over things. Don’t worry we are not talking about you. She has not revealed your worst embarrassments yet.”

“Well thanks, I guess? So you are meeting with her tomorrow? Where?”

“At the shopping centre and we will probably go eat somewhere so don’t wait for me. I’ll be out all day.”

Charles nodded. When Lyanna disappeared into the bathroom after dinner to take a shower, he quickly took out his phone and isolated himself on the balcony before dialling his best friend's number.

“Joris? It’s me. Tell me, do you have some plans tomorrow? I was thinking of going Christmas shopping.”

Far from imagining for a moment her boyfriend's intentions, Lyanna left the next morning excited at the idea of shopping for Christmas presents. She didn't really know what to get Charles's brothers and mother, so she was reassured to have Charlotte by her side to advise her. She met up with the young woman in a café near the shopping centre and the two of them wandered through the aisles looking for the perfect present. For Arthur, Lyanna had bought a comic book on the history of motor sport. For Lorenzo, she had opted for a stationery set, thinking it would be useful for him as he was partly in charge of Arthur's career, and as for Pascale, Lyanna had opted for a body and face care set so that she could take care of herself.

“Did you find a gift for Charles?” asked Charlotte as they were heading to a restaurant.

“Yeah, I have it already. I just hope he’ll like it.”

Caught up in their discussion, the two young women paid no attention to the all too recognisable Pista of a certain number 16 following them at a distance.

“I keep on telling you that we should have taken my car… they are going to see us.” Mumbled Joris, his face between his hands starting to question his life choices and how they led him to sit in his best friend’s car, spying on his current and ex-girlfriend.

“And I’m telling you that we are super discreet. And we don’t spy. We are just trying to see what they are doing. I just want to understand.”

“That’s the definition of spying, mate.”

“Shut up.”

Charles ended up parking awkwardly in a spot where he wasn't sure he was really allowed to, but at least it was out of sight. He took two black hoodies and sunglasses out of his trunk. He handed one to Joris before putting on the second.

“You really went overboard with the I’m definitely not spying my girlfriend.” Commented Joris.

Charles glared at him to shut him up and the two friends headed for the restaurant where Lyanna and Charlotte were eating. Fortunately for Charles, they were sitting near the window and he could see them quite clearly. They were laughing together and looked very friendly and Charles couldn't help wondering what was so funny.

It was the crowd around the restaurant that caught Charlotte and Lyanna's eye as they enjoyed a coffee with macaroons. Lyanna naively thought it was for her at first, but when no one entered the restaurant or seemed to be paying any attention, she discarded the idea. It was Charlotte who realised what all the fuss was about when she spotted Charles's best friend a little way back in the crowd, seemingly enjoying the warm greetings his friend was receiving.

“Did you tell Charles that we would meet today?”

“Yes, he knows. Why?”

“Because I think I see Joris, and unless he has become a superstar in the span of one year, I do believe that Charles is here.”

Lyanna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. The two young women got up, took their time paying the bill and left the restaurant to approach the crowd. And indeed, the closer they got, the more Lyanna could hear Charles's name being called out. The two young women stood back for a few moments, just long enough for all the fans to get a photo or an autograph and then to leave.

When Charles saw Lyanna and Charlotte, both with their arms crossed and the same disapproving look on their faces, he knew he was in trouble.

“Hey… Girls… Fancy seeing you here.” He tried to play it nonchalant.

“Charles are you following me?” asked Lyanna bluntly.

“Following you? Babe, you are hurting my feelings. It’s just a pure coincidence. Joris called me this morning asking me to help him find a gift for his mom and being the great friend that I am, I accepted. Nothing more. Right, Joris?”

Charles stared at his friend, who cleared his throat and approached the group.

“Yeah… my sister… I mean my mom is picky and Charles has great taste so…”

“You don’t need to cover for him, Joris.” Said Charlotte.

“I promise you, Lya it’s not what it looks like…”

“So you are not spying on us?”

“Yeah okay, fine we were spying. But can you blame me? I just wanted to see by myself what a friendship between you and Charlotte would look like.”

“Were you scared that I would turn her against you by saying what an idiot you are sometimes?” intervened Charlotte. “Because if so, don’t worry I think she doesn’t need me to see that. You do wonders by yourself.”

“Haha very funny.”

“Since when are you following us?”

“Lyanna, believe me you don’t want to know.” Said Joris.

“We might have been behind you in that cosmetic shop. By the way my mom is going to love the gift.”

“I don’t know if I should be scared because your behaviour is creepy or admirative because how the hell were you so subtle.”

“Go with the second option, it will make me sleep better tonight.”

Lyanna rolled her eyes and turned to Charlotte.

“I’m so sorry about him.”

“Don’t worry. I see you around. Happy holidays to you both.”

Joris not wanting to spend another minute in Charles's company, took the opportunity to go his own way, leaving Lyanna and the pilot alone at last. The young woman handed her bags to Charles, who grabbed them sheepishly.

“You are so going to sleep on the sofa tonight.”

============

author's note: A little chapter to celebrate Silverstone week end aka one of my favourite race on the calendar! Next chapter will be Christmas at the Leclerc, I can't wait and then off we go for the 2024 season. We are slowly approaching the end of the story and I'm not going to lie, it makes me very sad. As usual, don't forget to comment / reblog / like the story since it's the best way to let me know that you are actually enjoying it. And see you for another chapter very, very soon!

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