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sequinsmile-x · 3 days ago

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One Last Souvenir From My Trip to Your Shores - Part 2

“Come on, Derek, it’s my job and Aaron knows that. And it’s not the first time I’ve had to flirt with an unsub. It’s not like I’m going to sleep with the guy.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, putting the coffee pot down with more force than necessary, “It wouldn’t be the first time you did that either.”

A thoughtless and unkind comment from someone she's always considered a friend makes Emily feel like she's right back at the start.

-x-

Hi besties,

Thank you so SO much for the love for chapter 1, I'm genuinely a little blown away.

It almost makes me anxious to post chapter 2 haha, so I hope you enjoy this <3

I can't believe I ever thought this wouldn't be 11k words overall haha

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 5.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She looks as tired as she feels.

It’s the first thing she thinks when she looks in the mirror. Her makeup is smudged underneath her eyes, and she curses whoever marketed her mascara as waterproof. Her chin trembles when she sees the tracks of her tears on her cheeks and she shakes her head at herself, desperate to no longer be upset, but it’s futile and another tear slips down, following the trail left behind by the ones that had gone before it.

“Damn it,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath, “Get it together, Emily.”

She removes her makeup and then splashes water onto her face and pats it dry, blowing out a slow breath as she looks at herself in the mirror again, her red-rimmed eyes and slightly blotchy skin standing out in her bathroom's slightly too bright light.

“That’s as good as it’s going to get,” she murmurs to herself as she drops the towel onto the countertop, and a smile spreads across her face when it lands next to some of Aaron’s things that lived there permanently. He had a razor here, a toothbrush and a bottle of his cologne. She’d never tell him that on the rare occasion when she slept separately from him she’d wear it. That she’d spray herself and her clothes and close her eyes and pretend he was right there with her.

His bathroom looked similar, items she’d taken there and left in amongst his and spread across all the surfaces. The first night she stayed, Aaron presented her with a toothbrush to keep in his bathroom, and it now sat in the holder next to his and Jack’s. It made her feel like part of a family for the first time in a long time, maybe for the first time ever, and it made her smile whenever she saw them all lined up, or when she accidentally picked up Jack’s watermelon flavoured toothpaste. It was messier than her bathroom, a microcosm of Aaron and Jack’s life - items the little boy always left out that she or Aaron would put away - and it felt like a taster of a life that she was leading up to. Practice for something she so desperately wanted and knew she was on the cusp of having.

She sighs and steps out of the bathroom, but stops when she hears voices. For a split second, she thinks Aaron might actually be telling off the poor college kid who delivered the pizza, but then she realises she recognises the second voice. She feels anxiety pool in her gut again, any comfort Aaron had given her extinguished by Derek’s voice.

“I just want to speak to her,” he says, more irritation in his tone than she thinks he deserves to feel. She steps into the hallway and sees Aaron blocking Derek’s view of the apartment, his skin paper white as it’s drawn over his knuckles as he holds the door tight.

“I think you’ve said enough,” he says, his voice clipped, and she doesn’t have to look at his face to know Derek’s likely on the receiving end of a stern expression that had made hardened criminals crumble.

She knows if she said that she wanted Derek to leave he’d close the door in his face without question, and he’d tell him to leave and that would be it. She’s tempted, unsure if she wants to talk to him before she’s had a chance to figure out what she wants to say, the wounds caused by his careless words still fresh and wide open. But she knows this conversation will be hard whenever she has it, and she wanted to get it over with, to try and move forward from whatever the last few days had been. To try and start chipping away at the heavy weight in the pit of her stomach that had been planted there by Derek just a few days ago.

“Aaron,” she says before she can change her mind, her lips pressed together as he turns to look at her, “You can let him in.”

He stares at her, and they have a silent exchange, a conversation with no words because they’d never really needed them. He looks at her, seeking out any tiny semblance of doubt on her face and she nods at him, lets him know she’s sure and he nods back, a short, sharp thing that she knows means he’ll support her no matter what. He opens the door and lets Derek step past him, and he comes face to face with the pizza delivery guy who seems confused by the tension he’s walked into. Aaron passes him the money and takes the pizza without comment, closing the door behind him before anything can be said. He places their dinner, which he’s sure will go cold before they can eat it, on the closest surface he can find, and makes his way to Emily’s side.

Some of the tension dissipates from her shoulders the moment he’s next to her, and she crosses her arms over her chest, clearing her throat as she waits for Derek to speak. He doesn’t, as if he hadn’t expected to get this far at all, and Aaron sighs, his hand on Emily’s back to get her attention.

“Why don’t we all go sit down?”

She nods and lets herself be led to the living room, warmth spreading through her from where Aaron’s hand is pressed against her back. He taps her spine three times with his thumb, and she steps away so she can hold his hand, the press of her palm against his her way of returning the sentiment she doesn’t want to share in front of Derek. It’s only when they are all sitting down, when Aaron takes his place by her side, sitting close enough that their thighs press together, and Derek sits on the couch opposite them that she realises this is the first time Derek had ever been to this place.

He’d never visited, and had never asked to either, and it makes sadness swell in her gut, a feeling that’s extinguished as she remembers what Aaron had told her about what he’d said in her old apartment. How he stood in her home, the place she’d cooked for him and where he’d drunk her expensive liquor, and he’d torn her character apart. He sits opposite them and just stares, and she’s suddenly very aware of the fact she and Aaron are dressed so casually, one of his t-shirts loose on her frame. It’s a version of them that was usually only for them and Jack and she hates that Derek is seeing it. It makes her feel exposed, like she’s on display for him to see, and she tightens her grip on Aaron’s hand.

“I thought you wanted to speak to me,” Emily eventually says, her voice more steady than she feels and she thanks a god she isn’t sure she believes in anymore for the way she’d been brought up, for the fact she could hold herself together even when it felt like she was slowly ripping apart at the seams.

Derek sighs, his arms across his chest as he looks back and forth between the two of them, “Can we talk alone?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron says without thinking, an automatic response he can’t hold back as the desire to protect her almost burns him from the inside out. He looks at her so he can gauge what she wants, because they both know he’d leave if she asked him to, but she nods ever so slightly and keeps her grip tight on his hand, her blunt nails digging into his skin.

“Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of him.”

Derek laughs, it’s nervous and unlike him, and he looks between the two of them again, “What, you can’t speak to me without your guard dog?”

She knows it’s an attempt at a joke, that he’s trying to lighten the mood he’d created in the first place, and it just makes her angrier. She knows it does the same for Aaron because she can feel how his shoulders get tenser, his body almost wider with it as he prepares to be exactly what Derek is comparing him to.

“Derek,” she says warningly, “He’s staying. What did you want to say?”

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees as he clasps his hands in front of him, and he blows out a breath, “I’m sorry.”

She chuckles humourlessly, “Is that it? Because we have pizza to eat and it’s been a long day-”

“Emily, come on-”

“No,” she says sharply, “You can’t come here and say you’re sorry and think that’s it. You can’t call me a whore and expect to-”

“Whoa,” he says, cutting her off and shaking his head, “I never said that.”

She clenches her teeth, fed up with being told by people, men, that she’d misinterpreted things, that she’s overreacting to something she hasn’t even begun to react to yet.

“Then what did you mean by it?” She asks, staring at him, finding no joy in how he shrinks in front of her, how he becomes visibly smaller as he grapples for an explanation they all know he doesn’t have, “That’s what I thought. You should go, this was pointless-”

“I didn’t mean to say it.”

She scoffs and shakes her head, “Then what did you mean to say? Or did you just mean to think it?” She asks, her sadness once again overtaking her anger, the two emotions racing each other around her bloodstream in a way that makes her fidget. Aaron places his hand on her knee and it grounds her, reminds her she’s not facing this or anything else alone anymore.

“When you were arrested for murder, I barely knew you and I believed you were innocent without question and I did not judge you or your actions. Why couldn’t you do the same for me when you stood in my home and talked about things you do not understand that happened before I knew you?”

Derek connects the dots quickly, figures out the chain of command of how everything he’d said in anger to Dave had made its way back to Emily, and looks sharply at Aaron, “You told her.”

“She deserved to know,” Aaron says firmly, all of his focus on keeping his cool. Emily could hold her own, he knew that, but his desire to protect her was thrumming under his skin, making him all but vibrate on the couch.

“What gives you the right-”

“I asked him,” she says, cutting over Derek again, barely able to bring herself to let him finish a sentence, “I asked him and he told me.” She sighs sadly, the one thing she’d been thinking on repeat since he’d broken her heart finally slipping free, “I thought you were my friend.”

Aaron tightens his hold on her hand, unable to stop himself because the crack in her voice reverberates through his heart, and he’s worried if he didn’t do something he’d tell Derek to leave. He runs his thumb back and forth over the pulse in her wrist, tracing the evidence that she’d survived the very worst things that had happened to her.

Derek’s face falls, the first crack in his facade, and he sinks back against the couch, “I am your friend, Em.”

“I think we have very different ideas about how we should treat our friends, Derek. I have spent months…” she trails off and swallows thickly as her voice starts to shake. She turns her head to face Aaron, her eyes shining as he looks at her and her jaw tight as she tries to keep herself together. It’s another silent conversation, a squeeze of her hand and a look in his eyes that she knows means are you okay, and she smiles, something that’s lost in the tight way her lips are pressed together and she nods, her expression firm again when she turns back to look at Derek, her voice more steady this time, “I have spent months trying to earn back your trust, trying to prove myself to you again and all this time you’ve been…what? Judging me for things you’ll never have to understand,” she licks her lower lip and takes a deep breath, “I had a relationship with Ian. I had sex with him,” she shrugs when he closes his eyes, his jaw tight with anger, “Why does that have anything to do with you?”

He sighs, “It doesn’t, not really, but-”

“There is no but Derek. It has nothing to do with you, and neither does my relationship with Aaron, which is something else you seem to have an opinion on.”

Derek’s jaw tightens again, his eyes flicking to Aaron, staring him down as he spits out his response, “He faked your death.”

His attitude towards Aaron makes her angrier, something she wouldn’t have thought was possible as it briefly stamps out any sadness that was lingering in her throat. Aaron stiffens next to her, his shoulders so tight she’s surprised his t-shirt doesn’t rip, that he doesn’t turn into the superhero Jack always compared him to right in front of her and defend her honour. She knows he wants to. If she hinted even for a second that she wanted his help he’d jump in and protect her, but he doesn’t, because she didn’t want or need him to fight her battles. She needed him to help pick up the pieces after. To remind her where all of them went and help her move forward. It was the part of all of this that she’d been missing before him. The support behind the scenes that she’d always told herself she didn’t need because she didn’t know what it felt like to have.

“And you faked your cousin’s,” she says cooly, unaware until she’s said it that his hypocrisy over Aaron and JJ’s actions to protect her had upset her, the response out and in the air around them before she’d realised it had escaped the place she’d buried it. A flash of guilt licks through her chest, burning her from the inside out as his face falls. She shakes it off, remembering that no matter what she’d made him feel, it was not even a degree of how he’d made her feel.

“I did that to protect my family.”

Aaron chuckles humourlessly, his self-control slipping for a moment as everything he’d turned inwards for months breaks free, “And why do you think I did what I did? For fun? Because I wanted to bury another woman I…”

He drifts off, his jaw tight as he holds back everything that feels too personal to share with anyone other than Emily. He’d known he’d loved her for a lot longer than they’d been together, but he’d only found the name for it when he was faced with losing her, when he was carrying a coffin he knew she wasn’t in. It was a moment of awful clarity, every moment he’d ever had with her on a grim showreel in his head that he couldn’t stop seeing. He told himself that when he got her back, the idea of if too painful to accept, he’d do something about it.

In the end, he hadn’t been able to, frozen in fear that she would never feel the same way for him. She’d taken the leap, like she so often did, and he’d held her hand and jumped with her.

She’d always been the bravest person he knew.

“He was protecting me too,” she says, her hold on Aaron’s hand now so tight her skin is bone white where it’s stretched over her knuckles, “As our friend you should be happy for us,” she says, and Derek shakes his head, dropping his gaze to the floor, “I mean it, Derek. I won’t accept you talking crap about the man I love or our relationship.”

He looks up, his brows furrowed, “You love him?”

She scoffs, “Yes,” she says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world because it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.

“And I love her too,” Aaron adds, the gentle words at odds with the stern expression on his face. He usually smiled when he said it, his expression soft and his dimples carved out deep in his cheeks. She turns to look at him and smiles at him, something in her chest easing when he smiles back.

“Did you love him?”

She presses her lips together at Derek’s question and watches as Aaron’s face falls too, the brief flash of him, of her Aaron replaced by Hotch as they both turn to look at him. She clears her throat.

“Ian?” She asks, and Derek nods. She smiles wryly, “Please don't tell me you're equating love to sex, I've seen you go home with enough one-night stands to know you don't believe they are the same thing.”

He chuckles humourlessly, “That isn’t an answer.”

She has to wrap her other hand around Aaron’s, sandwiching it between the two of hers to remind him to stay quiet, his anger thick and palpable in the air like a cheap cologne. She’s angry herself because Derek thinks he’s won, that he’s tripped her up with his frustratingly black-and-white thinking. He was still so sure after all these years, after all they’d seen and done, that there were clear answers to everything. She’d lived in the grey area for years. Had existed on the edges of what was right and wrong, and she wonders if that’s part of her that Derek would simply just never understand.

“And I don't have one that's simple,” she says, “Or one that I think you'll find satisfactory.”

The room falls into silence and Derek leans forward, his fingers pressed against his temples as he tries to gather himself, “I am sorry that I upset you. No matter what…no matter what I may think or have said, I never wanted to upset you.”

She presses her lips together, “Okay.”

He frowns, “Okay? Is that it?”

She nods, “You apologised, I’m not ready to forgive you.”

He chokes on a humourless laugh, “Em-”

“No,” she says, cutting over him, “You didn’t just upset me, Derek. You��you’ve changed the way I think about our friendship. And that’s going to take a long time for me to come to terms with,” she swallows thickly, pushing down emotions she won’t let herself feel until he’s gone, her eyes burning with tears, “It’s going to be a long time before I trust you again.”

He sighs and shrugs in defeat, “Then where does this leave us?”

“Where we are right now I guess,” she replies, “I didn’t bring us to this point. You did. And it isn’t my responsibility to try and make you feel better about it.”

They fall into silence again, and Emily realises she has nothing left to say, that she’s done trying to defend herself when she’s done nothing wrong. The ball was in Derek’s court now, and she hoped he’d eventually see her side of it all. He nods, his shoulders slumping a little, as he stands.

“I should go.” He says, his smile tight. Emily stands too, and so does Aaron, his hand on her lower back as they move as one to show him out. He hesitates at the door and turns to look at her, his gaze drifting over both of them, over how close they are. As if he’s seeing them and their relationship as it is for the first time and not the way he’d assumed it to be, “Will we ever get back to where we were?”

She shrugs, “I doubt we’ll sit in one of the SUVs on a stake out and make fun of Aaron for being a hardass ever again,” she scrunches her nose up and looks over her shoulder at Aaron, “No offence, honey.”

He squeezes her hip, a smile Emily knows Derek has likely never seen before flashes across his face, “None taken. I am a hardass.”

She presses her lips together and turns back to Derek, “We’ll get…somewhere. I’m sure.”

It’s all she can offer him. It’s all she wants to offer him because she doesn’t know how she’ll feel tomorrow or in a week. She doubted the heartache would go away any time soon, and she didn’t know when she’d be able to look at him again and not think of the hurtful thing he’d said. Of the way he’d looked at her when he said it. Of the way he’d made her feel like she was worth nothing.

It had been a long time since someone she loved looked at her like that and she cared that they had.

Derek nods, and he forces a tight smile as he leaves, the apartment falling into silence after the door closes behind him. Aaron moves his hands to her shoulders, his thumbs pressed into her back as he tries to ease some of the tension there.

“Sweetheart-” He’s cut off when she turns in his arms, her face buried in his neck and her hands grasping at his back, his t-shirt tight in her fists. He feels the burn of her tears against his skin and he kisses the top of her head, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you,” he kisses her hairline and pulls back just enough to see her face, “Let’s go sit down, okay?”

She nods but doesn’t pull away from him. She lets him lead her towards the couch, her sniffles and the occasional sharp intake of breath the only sounds in the apartment. As soon as she’s sitting down he moves to pull away but she stops him, her blunt nails digging into his arm as she furrows her brow.

“I’ll be less than a minute, okay,” he says, squeezing her forearm before she nods and he tilts his head towards the bathroom, “I’ll barely leave your sight.”

She watches as he goes, her vision blurred by the tears she’d held back throughout the painful back and forth with Derek. She hears the faucet in the bathroom briefly go on and off, and then Aaron walks back towards her, a damp washcloth in his hand. He sits next to her and turns towards her, his knee knocking against her thigh, and he gently wipes her cheeks with the washcloth. He touches her as if she’s made of something precious, his love and care for her soft as he dabs away the tears someone else had caused, each one immediately replaced. It doesn’t phase him and he carries on, diligent in the task he had set himself as they sit in silence, his knee pressed against her thigh as he gives her the silence she needs to figure out what she wants to do next.

“I’m sorry.” She eventually chokes out, her voice ragged and throat tight.

“What for?” He asks, his smile reassuring and entirely hers when she finally looks at him. She tries to smile too and it shakes, the laugh that escapes her close to hysterical.

“I feel like all I’ve done this evening is cry.”

“You never have to apologise for that. I love you, and part of that is looking after you when you’re sad or hurt.” He leans forward and kisses her cheek, tasting the salt of her skin as she leans into him, curling against his side as if she’d been waiting for him to initiate contact. He drops the washcloth onto the side table for now and wraps his arms around her, never wanting her to doubt that he’d always be there ready and waiting for her when she needed him.

“It’s been a long time since someone I care about has been able to hurt me like that,” she says, her voice shaking, “He should call and give my mother some tips, she’s lost her edge in recent years.”

He knows what she’s doing, knows that humour is a shield she’d used her whole life, and he squeezes her thigh, “Sweetheart.”

She heaves in a breath, the press of it sticking to each of her ribs as it shudders in her lungs, and she nods as she blows it back out.

“Sorry,” she says, smiling sadly when he raises an eyebrow at her again, “It’s just..having to think about Ian this much…” she blows out another shaky breath and her chin trembles, “It’s never easy.”

He hears what she hasn’t said, what she doesn’t need to say, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, his knuckles soft against her cheek afterwards as he wipes away her tears, “Like I said you earlier, none of that matters to me. None of it. The only thing that matters to me is you.”

“I know,” she says, cupping his cheek, running her thumb back and forth over his jaw, “Thank you,” she smiles sadly and he almost tells her she doesn’t have to thank him, but she carries on, speaking as if she wasn’t aware she was talking outloud. “Sometimes it feels like I haven’t moved forward at all since I came back.”

For a moment he wishes he had shouted at Derek, that he’d let him know exactly what he thought of him and all the things he’d said about Emily, but he knows it wouldn’t have helped. The last thing Emily needed, or wanted, was two men fighting over her honour like she was a prize to be won.

“Recovery isn’t linear, Em. And you have moved forward. And I won’t let Derek, or anyone, take that from you.”

She smiles despite the vice around her heart, “Even me?”

He leans in to kiss her lower lip, “Especially you.”

She rests her forehead against his and cups the back of his head to hold him in place, “You’re a good man, Aaron Hotchner. The best. And I won’t let anyone, including you, take that from you.” She swallows thickly and blows out a breath, and it makes her sadness skip across his face, the melancholy in it enough to break his heart, “Where do I go from here, Aaron? How do I go to work on Monday knowing my partner, my friend, thinks those things about me?”

“Well, I’ve got it on good authority that your boss has a soft spot for you,” he says, running his fingers through her hair, “So he can make sure you don’t get partnered with him for a while.”

She pulls back to look at him, “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You aren’t asking me I’m happy to do it for you if it makes your life even a little bit easier,” he rubs a soothing circle on her back, “And I have a feeling Derek won’t try and argue it either.” He says, and she bites the inside of her cheek, sure that she should just put up with it, but Aaron carries on, “There are some benefits to being the boss, sweetheart. And it’s not just the office with a front row view of your desk,” he pauses as she laughs, the sound easing something in his chest, the melody of it filling the space around his heart, “I can do this for you.”

She’s nodding before she even knows she’s going to agree, and she leans in to stamp her lips against his, “Okay. Thank you.”

“You have got to stop thanking me for looking after you,” he says softly, winking at her when she fails to hide a smile, “I like doing it.”

She settles against him, drawing warmth and comfort from the safety of his arms. She’s not sure how long they sit there in silence. How long he trails his fingers up and down her arm, the calluses on his thumb catching on an old scar he’d heard her get years ago when she was thrown against a mirror by a long-dead monster. It feels like he’s trying to heal her bit by bit, that the soft press of his rough skin against hers is undoing everything that ever came before him, and on some level, she thinks he is. He’s providing everything she never knew how to ask for, everything she still didn’t know how to ask for, and she never wanted him to stop.

“We never ate the pizza,” she says eventually, the sound of his belly rumbling breaking through the silence they had fallen into. She scrunches her nose up, “It’s probably stone cold by now.”

“You’re not a fan of cold pizza?” He asks, and she grimaces and shakes her head.

“It reminds me too much of college and bad decisions.”

He chuckles, “We can order another one.”

“I need to find my phone,” she says, making no attempt to move, far too comfortable pressed against him, and he smiles as he pulls his phone from his sweatpants.

“Here,” he says as he hands it to her, “Order what you want. You can even get one of those disgusting dessert pizzas you like.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “They aren’t disgusting. They are just glorified cookies.”

“Then they shouldn’t call them pizzas.”

She presses her lips together to try and contain a smile, the beautiful and simple domesticity of it all almost misplaced after the day she’d had. But she thinks maybe that’s the point - that she could have a terrible awful day and still have this to come to, that she no longer had to sit in the darkness by herself.

She smiles as she unlocks his phone and is met by his wallpaper. It’s a picture of the two of them and Jack, the little boy in her arms and both of them in Aaron’s, all standing together in the park with wide smiles on their faces. Aaron had been taking photos of her and Jack, and a stranger offered to take one of all three of them, her smile kind as she told them they were a beautiful family. None of them had corrected her, because thats what they were. A family. Or at least the building blocks of one. She’d make fun of him for it, gently tease him and call him sentimental, if she didn’t have the same picture set as her wallpaper too.

She frowns curiously at an email she can see on his screen, a dispatch notification from a homeware store she knows isn’t cheap, and she turns her head to look at him, tilting the phone so he can see it too.

“What did you order?”

“Oh,” he says, clearing his throat, his dimples standing out as his cheeks flush with embarrassment, “I bought new pillows. You said mine hurt your neck, so I ordered new ones.”

She stares at him for a moment, her mouth hanging open as she huffs out a laugh, “When? We only got back from the case this afternoon and you haven’t been home yet?”

He tugs her closer, his lips against her temple as he hides a smirk against her skin, “There’s this amazing thing called the internet, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. They should arrive tomorrow - I bought the same ones you have.”

She pulls back to look at him, his phone in a loose grip in her hand, and she presses her lips together, entirely unsure what to say in response. “Those are expensive, Aaron.”

He shrugs like the price of them hadn’t occurred to him, “You and your comfort when you’re at my place are worth it.”

She kisses him because it’s the only thing she can think of doing, and she rests her forehead against him, her nose knocking against his, “I love you.”

He furrows his brow, “Because of the pillows?”

“No,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him, “Well, yes. But not just because of the pillows,” she says, “Because of everything,” she runs her fingers through his hair, “I love you because you’re you.”

He smiles and kisses her, his lips catching the corner of hers, “I love you because you’re you too,” he looks at her, his eyes searching hers and finding the lingering sadness left behind by the last few days and the lack of a resolution that she so desperately wanted, “Everything will be okay, sweetheart. It might take some time. But it will be okay.”

She nods and rests her head against his chest, her forehead pressed against his neck as she tries to get as close to him as she can, his warmth and the safety that always came with it giving her all the things she’d never had before.

A home. Reassurance. And the love she’d spent a lifetime chasing,

“I know,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, her lips catching his jaw, “How could it not be? I have you.”

-x-

NB: I know some of you were hoping for an Aaron/Derek altercation, but it didn't feel right for Aaron's character and also it's absolutely not what Emily needs. She needs her man to be a supportive king!!

As always, let me know what you think <3

Until next time,

SequinSmile x

#aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic

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august-ia · 13 hours ago

Text

August would agree that they were pretty to look at- to a certain degree. It was always also a little unnerving to look at weapons even if he technically also had one. But the fairy had never used his bow to harm anyone and he hoped he never would need to. He was no stranger to blades, his family had some for their monthly rituals, but he usually refused to touch them. Not something his older siblings or his parents were very happy about. So, all he did as a reply was nod.

He thought of his first bow; how one of the older faeries had decided to gift it to him after they saw him looking at it every time they crossed paths; he was far more fascinated with it than the fairy who'd owned it for decades, in their words. They demanded August would have it and so he did, cherishing the gift by practicing diligently. He'd come a long way since then. Not that he would ever ask for a weapon from Jiwoo, but she also probably wouldn't make him one. "Ah, makes sense," he commented, his expression concentrated. In all honesty, it was making him a little queasy because he kept thinking about where he'd seen her before.

His attention snapped from the weapons to Jiwoo, his stomach turning. He was receiving more information than he bargained for and it made him question whether he'd made the right decision to make a school project out of this. But he already had the interview and the ideas- even ones he couldn't put on paper. "I never thought people would intentionally cause more pain," he said under his breath, frowning a little.

It was a tempting offer, to try a new set of arrows. But he didn't want to give her the wrong idea that they were similar kind of people- or that she'd ask more of him. He couldn't deliver. He barely had nerves left and when his phone suddenly buzzed, he jumped and clicked to stop the recording. "Oh damn," he muttered, relieved on the inside. "I didn't realise the time, I actually have to get going- thank you so much for all of your time and information, if you want to see what I ended up using, I can email the finished product," he rushed to gather his bag and with a wave, left the shop. Thankfully with his life intact.

Interview with a hitman ~ august & jiwoo

#p; interview with a hitman #jiwoo ia #( thought it was a good time to end it here! )#fin;

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lovphobic · 2 years ago

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i love the game and probably will for a long time but man its hard to watch. and itll be hard when the show reaches this point. but i just dont like abby. i dont like her character. it doesnt do it for me. and the fact that her faction (yes even though she defected. who gives a shit) is like not even a well hidden metaphor for facism. um. girlie i really do not like you LOL

#thinks ab that anon i got 2 years ago. as a random out of the blue for no reason (saw No one else getting it) anon that fucking vice #article seemed like a reach. and i still dont like the fact that the only article ive seen ab it is that article bc when did we start #trusting VICE for subjects like this yknow #so under those conditions (entire first tag and the fact it was a vice article) i was like . this has to be a reach #but i did see some similarities in the time it was received #but ive really been coming back to it every now and then since. for Two Years. and im seeing MORE #like i cant separate the art from the creator with this. i know that. so i consume it critically #and in doing so i have to say i REALLY do not fucking like abby. there is not a world where i will like her #metaphor aside even still she does not do it for me #AND LIKE shes not done it for me for a WHILE ive just been too scared to say anything without coming off like one of those Man Babies #no i dont like her because her muscles are bigger than mine. i dont like her because i dont like her as a character. oops?#do i enjoy the game? sure. do i think it needed to be made (ESPECIALLY in this way)? not.. particularly #sorry for the neg im watching julien do grounded and he got to the first abby section and im like. 😬😬😬

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mx-metronome · 2 years ago

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One of these days I’m gonna be brave enough to share my Sky spreadsheet on the official Discord server for over half a million users to see, but until that day comes, I wish the 6 or 7 of you here that use it a pleasant evening

#tempo tantrums #one time I got to see a similar spreadsheet that someone posted there #it only featured the base constellations #but it was GORGEOUS #photos and icons and they were all laid out to look like the spirit trees and #man it was a SIGHT #I was quite envious at first - always my first and biggest mistake #wow someone did this thing I’m very passionate about so much better than I did #and I felt that way for a little while #until some users lamented that the sheet was completely unusable on mobile #some friends pointed out that they preferred my spreadsheet because a) it was easy to see and understand #and b) it was actually usable on mobile #and I think about that a lot #dare I say I even cried about that afterward #every sheet a person makes has its role to play in the community #maybe in that respect my spreadsheet will be well received but idk

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joetastic2739 · 26 days ago

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Someone accessed my Gmail 2 days ago, compromising my linked accounts like Twitter and YouTube. Here's how it happened, why I fell for it, and what you can learn to avoid making the same mistake:

The scam I fell victim to was a cookie hijack. The hacker used malicious software to steal my browser cookies (stuff like autofill, auto sign in, etc), allowing them to sign in to my Gmail and other accounts, completely bypassing my 2FA and other security protocols.

A few days ago, I received a DM from @Rachael_Borrows, who claimed to be a manager at @Duolingo. The account seemed legitimate. It was verified, created in 2019, and had over 1k followers, consistent with other managers I’d seen at the time n I even did a Google search of this person and didnt find anything suspicious.

She claimed that @Duolingo wanted me to create a promo video, which got me excited and managed to get my guard down. After discussing I was asked to sign a contract and at app(.)fastsigndocu(.)com. If you see this link, ITS A SCAM! Do NOT download ANY files from this site.

Unfortunately, I downloaded a file from the website, and it downloaded without triggering any firewall or antivirus warnings. Thinking it was just a PDF, I opened it. The moment I did, my console and Google Chrome flashed. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. I immediately did an antivirus scan and these were some of the programs it found that were added to my PC without me knowing:

The thing about cookie hijacking is that it completely bypasses 2FA which should have been my strongest line of defense. I was immediately signed out of all my accounts and within a minute, they changed everything: passwords, 2FA, phone, recovery emails, backup codes, etc.

I tried all methods but hit dead ends trying to recover them. Thankfully, my Discord wasn’t connected, so I alerted everyone I knew there. I also had an alternate account, @JLCmapping, managed by a friend, which I used to immediately inform @/TeamYouTube about the situation

Meanwhile, the hackers turned my YouTube channel into a crypto channel and used my Twitter account to spam hundreds of messages, trying to use my image and reputation to scam more victims

Thankfully, YouTube responded quickly and terminated the channel. Within 48 hours, they locked the hacker out of my Gmail and restored my access. They also helped me recover my channel, which has been renamed to JoetasticOfficial since Joetastic_ was no longer available.

Since then, I’ve taken several steps to secure my accounts and prevent this from happening again. This has been a wake-up call to me, and now I am more cautious around people online. I hope sharing it helps others avoid falling victim to similar attacks. (End)

(side note) Around this time, people also started to impersonate me on TikTok and YouTube. With my accounts terminated, anyone searching for "Joetastic" would only find the imposter's profiles. I’m unsure whether they are connected or if it’s just an unfortunate coincidence, but it made the situation even more stressful.

#youtube #scam alert #scam warning

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kingkat12 · 5 months ago

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you're my drug (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, sexual imagery, foul language, mentions of drugs/tobacco

summary: after you got caught making out with Eric at rehab, everything suddenly spirals into something much deeper

word count: 5,022 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part two of draw you! enjoy!!<3

As I stood in the courtyard, kicking some rocks along during my lap around the premises, I couldn't help but wonder when I would see Eric again. It had been a week since we were caught making out in his room, and I had just gotten out of a two-day solitary confinement— it was definitely a harsher punishment than expected. Then again, I should've known; this place was an absolute shithole.

The worst part of the ordeal was having to write down my feelings and get another check from the warden, along with questions about whether or not I was a nymphomaniac. Excuse me?

Had Eric gotten a harsher repercussion than me? Maybe he had been moved to a different rehabilitation center? I didn't want to think about it. Again, I shouldn't be worrying about a stranger I barely knew. It was a little reckless of me to care for someone who had drawn me naked— now that I wasn't in a state of arousal, it dawned on me how creepy that actually was.

But then again... I had been the one to jump him. That was on me. Had I not offered up, I wouldn't feel so attached to him.

... Maybe I was a nymphomaniac? Fuck.

So when I eventually lost track of where I had kicked my stone, I started looking for new ones. And it was during my hunt for entertainment that I eventually spotted a familiar tall figure entering the courtyard.

Eric's cheeks were more hollow than the last time I had seen him, and I couldn't help the guilt that immediately seeped into my system. He seemed much darker than I remembered, the green in his eyes no longer having that playful shimmer I could spot from far away. However, when he spotted me on his way through the courtyard with a guard by his side, something changed in Eric. The flush in his cheeks returned, his eyes widened, and I could see the faint remnants of the smile that had etched itself into my mind for nights on end. But when he met my gaze, he looked away in a flash-- was he afraid we'd be caught staring at each other again?

I couldn't even control the way I immediately jumped into action as the guards left Eric's side, and I made my way to him with a confident stride. "Well, if it isn't Michelangelo?" I said, approaching with a smile. Seeing him in the flesh again made the tips of my fingers tingle, a certain excitement building in my system. "Where have you been? Did they put you in confinement too?"

But the smile I had seen in him earlier wasn't there anymore-- he turned to me, face blank. Eric blinked twice, watching me as though he didn't know why I was talking to him at all, his nose scrunching up.

My pulse quickened as my anxiety rose; what was happening?

"We shouldn't be talking," Eric eventually mumbled, looking away. His green eyes darted towards the guards on duty, wary of their movements. It didn't take long before he started walking away from me, which in turn left me stunned.

I wondered whether I had said something wrong as I watched him join a few guys that were working out, and I had to take a deep breath to ground myself. Everything about this made me feel like a complete and utter idiot-- I turned away from Eric, rubbing my temples as I made my way back inside. This was giving me a bigger headache than the ones I would get after coming down from a high.

This definitely felt similar to that; the crushing feeling. Having Eric dismiss me like that after what we had done felt more painful than usual, now that I couldn't dull down my feelings with anything.

I walked back into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Everything about this made my whole body ache, and I couldn't understand why I even cared to this degree.

Had I been so delusional as to think Eric felt something for me too?

Later that night, I didn't care to come out for the last meal. Something told me I'd be staring at Eric again and that he'd dismiss me once more, and I didn't know if I could take it. I hadn't missed drugs as much as now-- everything about this situation reminded me of how I ended up here in the first place.

As I lay in my bed, hoping to fall asleep and wake up a new woman, I was dragged out of my sleepy state when I heard a light shuffling sound coming from my door. I sat up, rubbing my eyes before my gaze slowly darted towards the commotion.

There it was. A note?

I went to pick it up, feeling my heart thump hard in my chest in anticipation. The paper was familiar, like rough velvet to my fingers, and the same size as a page from a notebook. The smile that crept up my lips was impossible to suppress-- I turned the paper to see a new drawing of me, made in the same scratchy style as the previous ones I had seen.

It was an image of me laying in a bed, my eyes hidden in the crook of my arm, lips parted as though I was drawing in a big breath. The pink jumper I was pictured in was a lot bigger than mine; I suspected it was supposed to be Eric's. From the waist down, I was wearing nothing but a black pair of underwear, my legs dangling halfway off the bed.

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my chest rise as my heart skipped a beat-- it was beautiful. Completely breathtaking. And in the corner to the upper right, there was a scribbled message with boyish writing that was hard to understand;

messy mornings. let's have those someday? xx

My smile only spread, and I let out a shaky breath of relief as I leaned my forehead against my door, pressing the drawing tightly against my chest. The joy that coursed through my veins reminded me of the same euphoric feeling I'd get from doing a certain type of drug-- I wasn't sure whether it was good for me or not to be feeling these things, but I knew I was addicted already.

Was Eric maybe addicted to me as well? Was the incident in the courtyard just something he did in front of the guards, straying away from trouble?

I couldn't be sure. Nonetheless, I had gotten confirmation that he definitely thought about me too, and that was all I needed.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I could swear it was the same as getting high-- seeing Eric, I mean. It was especially exhilarating knowing he was right in front of me, but that I couldn't say a word to him.

We were currently in a typical meeting, a group of people sitting in a circle trying to work through why they had started drinking or using. I hated these gatherings the most; I wasn't the biggest fan of airing out my life to strangers.

But today was different. Eric had joined my group, even though his meeting usually took place later in the evening. I felt the air seep out of my lungs the second I spotted him in the door, watching him with eyes wider than expensive plates of china as he sat down on the chair opposite me in the circle, locking his gaze on me.

And there he sat, in a casual manspread as he twiddled his thumbs, waiting his turn. His dark mullet had grown out a little, the hair on his forehead inching closer to his eyes with each week he was here. It was easy to get lost when I stared at him for too long, hypnotized by his tall build and his green, green eyes darting right back at me. The smirk playing across his lips mirrored mine, both of us feeling the tension thicken between us despite knowing our minds should be elsewhere at this moment.

I had gotten so swept up with Eric that I nearly jumped out of my chair when my name was called. My eyes frantically ripped themselves off of him, finding the guidance counselor with a confused look. What question was I supposed to answer?

The counselor cleared her throat; "How are you planning to change your habits once you get out of rehabilitation?"

Oh. I had no idea. Flustered, I ended up shrugging, avoiding Eric's amused gaze. "I think... I might have to work on my impulses. So I guess I will try to make sure I don't give in to bad habits by..." I realized I was completely lost, and it made my cheeks flush. "By doing, uh... Doing breathing exercises?"

My eyes snapped toward the sound that came from the other end of the room-- I watched as Eric clasped a hand over his mouth, head hanging low to hide his blatant amusement. Was that a snort I heard? I had to actively bite back a smile from forming, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip with a force I had never used before.

The counselor cleared her throat, clearly unhappy with the direction this was heading. "Yes, Eric? Do you have anything to say?"

His green eyes darted up from his lap, and it was obvious that he was biting down on the inside of his cheek. Eric crossed his arms over his chest, nodding to himself as though he was thinking. "Well, if you're asking me the same question, I think I plan to surround myself with people I love. I think that's where it went wrong the last time,"

I held my breath-- I hadn't expected him to say that. And I had most certainly not expected Eric's eyes to find me immediately after, realizing his pupils had widened the second they landed on me.

I didn't try to suppress my smile this time. I let it happen, watching as Eric smiled right back with a shimmer in his eyes.

Something told me I was actually going to get something good out of group therapy.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... It dawned on me a few days later that I didn't have much time left in rehab. It also happened to dawn on me at the exact moment another drawing slipped under my door, right around the time I was ready to go to bed.

It was probably the fifth one this week, and I had laid them out neatly on my nightstand. Every image was as beautiful as the last one-- two of me in bed, one of me out in the courtyard again, and one of me during a group session falling asleep on Eric's shoulder. It warmed my heart to think that he had thought about that imagery when we had sat opposite each other a few days ago. Actually, everything about this warmed my heart.

However, today's drawing caught me off-guard. Today, it was a nude one-- deja vu. My eyes locked on the image of me in what looked like Eric's room, gripping his hair as his head was dipped between my legs. One hand was clasped over my chest, and the other one was digging its fingers into my thigh, holding me down. Everything about it made my heart stop, letting out a laboured breath at the sight.

As always, there was a small message in the upper right corner;

in an alternative universe, there wouldn't be guards outside and there would be no stopping us. can't wait to taste you xx

My hands gripped the paper, almost to the verge of curling it. It felt as though my body was actively on fire, a need ripping its way through my chest. And it was this exact feeling that had me rushing to put the drawing away before bolting out my door, knowing Eric couldn't have gone too far.

Thankfully, I had been right. I spotted Eric further down the hall, towering over the people passing him. It was impossible not to notice the tattoos poking up from under his pink jumper, and something about it made my heart race even faster-- I so desperately wanted to see everything. Feel him beneath the pads of my fingertips.

And I burned. Burned, burned, burned up. And I kept on burning as I sped down the hallway, hearing the loud clacking of my shoes echo through the space along with the thumping of my heart. "Eric!"

Hearing his name, Eric turned around, eyes wide in surprise. "Hey, you," he murmured, brows knitting together as though he was about to scold me. "Thought you were sleeping?"

I finally caught up to him, quickly scanning our surroundings, realizing we were alone.

"... Are you here to return the drawing?" Eric asked, tilting his head to the side as he scanned the look on my face. A nervous smile spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck as his eyes flickered around the hallway. "Might've been a little much, sure, but you didn't seem to mind it the last time?--"

His words trailed off as the small hand tugging at his jumper caught his attention. Eric's eyes rounded out, immediately understanding what I was getting at. When he leaned down, I let out a shaky breath before I flung my arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

I had hoped it would satiate the burn ravaging my body, but it didn't. As Eric's big arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him, the fire only spread. My hands barely had time to go up into his hair, tugging softly at his dark locks, before he pulled away with an airy chuckle. "You'll get us in trouble again,"

That's true-- "Fuck," was the only thing I managed to say.

Humming, Eric glanced down the hall before pulling my hand into his, intertwining our fingers as he led me away. I was glad it was almost time for bed, seeing as there were barely any people out in the hallway and the guards were relaxing outside on their cigarette break. A familiar dulling of my brain seeped into my system as I remembered the smell of their cigarettes gliding into my room from outside-- I missed nicotine. But Eric was better than any cigarettes. Better than anything I had ever taken before. No high could match the one I would get from locking eyes with him, getting a drawing under my door, or the feeling currently coursing through my veins as he led me into a desolate stairwell. "This will do for now," he muttered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I'll make sure to bring you somewhere nice when we're both out of here."

As my back hit the wall, I couldn't suppress my growing smirk as Eric neared me. The last time we had stood like this, had been right before he left my room after we made out. Seeing how tall he was, casting a shadow as he towered over me, I let out a sigh of joy; I had missed this. I had missed him. There was nothing that could make me happier than being alone with him. "I'm getting out of here soon, actually,"

Eric hummed as he placed his hand against the wall next to my head, his green eyes locking with mine. I wasn't too afraid to show my burning state-- he watched my lips part as I stared up at him, and I watched his jaw clench as he tried to digest the look in my eyes.

Sex. I was giving him those bedroom eyes that always worked on every guy I had ever been with. My eyes got all glassy, my thick lashes hanging low. I was quite sure I would let him fuck me right here if he wanted to-- I was past the point of caring who caught us.

"Soon, you say? How soon?" Eric asked, leaning down to press two separate kisses against the corners of my mouth.

I had to control the way my breath hitched before I answered; "A week and a half,"

Nodding, Eric's fingers brushed against my lips, pressing into the skin as he watched my expression with a heated one of his own. His thumb dipped past my lips, brushing against the tip of my tongue. "I'm out in three,"

I smiled before wrapping my mouth softly around his thumb, watching a breath escape him as his green eyes locked on the sight. Eric leaned down to kiss my cheek, watching as they flushed when he pulled his finger out of my mouth. "Where can I find you when we're out?"

"You seriously think I would leave this place without giving you my address?"

"Okay, good," Eric chuckled, his eyes rounding out with a newfound softness. "Because I think I'll need you out there more than I need you now."

What? I swallowed, biting down on my lower lip. Did he reciprocate the way I was feeling these things? I wondered whether he also felt the pit of fire in his stomach, whether he couldn't breathe whenever I wasn't around, and whether thoughts of me also wreaked havoc through his mind in every waking moment.

Eric's eyes lowered, taking in my stunned silence. "Honestly, I thought this was purely a lust thing, but... I've come to realize it's not just that. The one thing rehab has taught me, is that I need to break my habits, so here I am. Not running,"

I hadn't smiled this brightly in years. "Eric?"

A hum.

"I feel the same way," I reached out for his face, glad he had bent down a little to make it possible. "I'm quite sure I've gone mad, but standing with you here feels better than any drugs I've ever taken. And quite frankly, that drawing... Fuck, that was quite something." A breathy giggle escaped me, watching as Eric met my gaze with a smirk playing across his plush, pink lips. "That shit was hot. You're so fucking talented, do you know that?"

Eric freed his lower lip from his teeth, inching closer to gently nudge his nose against me. "Nope, I definitely don't know that. Completely oblivious. Which is why I need you around to tell me that, once in a while,"

"I'll tell you every day, if you want," I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of our closeness.

"Good," Eric whispered against my lips, his hands now grabbing at my waist, pressing himself closer to me. "And I'll eat you out every day. Deal?"

I was quite sure I was going to faint. Remember the drawing, I couldn't wait for our time to come. "Sounds like better therapy than anything they've done for me here,"

"Definitely,"

I smiled, giving his dark hair a tug, pulling Eric against me to connect our lips in a passionate kiss.

How we had gone from staring at each other to this, I had no idea. How it became this enormous feeling burning through my body, I couldn't guess the answer. But the one thing I knew, was that it felt right-- being with Eric like this felt right. Correct. Perfect.

As our kisses grew with hunger, resembling that one evening on Eric's bed, my body began to grow flushed as his hands dipped beneath my pink jumper, traveling up my torso with a fiery need to be close. "Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling away, panting just slightly.

I nodded, unable to wipe the grin off my face as my sweater got discarded somewhere on the floor, licking my lips out of pure habit. Eric was quick to dip his head forward, swiping his own tongue along mine. My back arched off the wall in surprise, the movement against his body earning me a small groan. This was how I realized he was hard-- I had to suppress another hitch of my breath.

"Shit, I want to take it all off," Eric whispered against my lips. "Everything. Feel all of you." He pressed his lips against my chin, moving his way down my throat and to my neck. I could feel the cool air hitting my back as he lifted my shirt off as well-- my nipples hardened at his attention, his hands gripping my breasts through my bra, squeezing them.

I whimpered against his touch, writhing in anticipation. I had no idea what he had planned for me, if we were going to go all the way or not; I could already feel my excitement pool between my legs, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The arousal had been in my system since the second I saw today's drawing, and I let it out by tugging at his dark hair once more, hoping for him to come back up. "Eric, kiss me-- Wanna feel you too,"

I watched Eric's eyes light up as he pulled away and met mine. And he complied, capturing my lips in a needy kiss, his big hands gripping at my hips and digging into my skin through my trousers. Realizing I was the only one with my shirt off, my hands dipped under his, hoping he'd get the memo as I tugged at the hem of his pink sweater.

Eric's lips barely left mine as he discarded his sweater elsewhere, satisfaction coursing through my veins as our chests pressed up against each other, our hearts beating at the other through our skin. I had desperately wanted to see his tattoos, drink in the sight of the art scattered across his body, but it hit me that we didn't have time-- we didn't know when we'd be caught. I figured I'd leave it to the time we'd be out of rehab, when we'd have time for messy mornings every day, and when we had time to be buried in each other completely.

"I don't know if I can wait three weeks," I breathed in between hungry kisses, my hands running up and down his toned torso.

Eric hummed against my lips; "Me neither,"

And with that, it didn't take long before his slender fingers dipped down into my underwear, making my breath hitch at the realization of what was happening. "Been dreaming about this for weeks," Eric whispered, one of his hands disappearing in my hair to hold me in place, making sure my eyes met his as he rubbed tight circles around my clit. "You're all I ever think about."

My mouth was open against his, small gasps escaping past my lips, bucking into his hand as he sped up his movements around my clit. "I'm so crazy about you," I whimpered, watching the green of his eyes swallow me whole with adoration and lust. My mind still hadn't completely registered that this was happening, especially not under the blue lights of the stairwell. "You're better than drugs, I swear."

Eric chuckled against my lips, watching me moan against him as he patted the pad of his finger against the slick of my core. "Better than drugs, you say?"

"Much better," My words were barely coming out properly, and any continuation of that sentence was stopped the second Eric pressed a finger into me. My breath hitched-- fuck.

He hummed, a sweet smile splayed across his lips; "You're my drug,"

It was almost too much-- I bucked against his hand once more, squirming in his grip as the flame spread through my body. I really couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy or aroused. I let out a breathy moan as he pumped his finger into me, the squelching sound of my wetness drawing forth a blush in my cheeks.

"I'd take my time with you," Eric whispered, capturing my lips in a short kiss before continuing; "But we don't have a lot of time. Forgive me if we make this quick."

I could barely nod, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt his thumb back against my clit, his middle finger curling inside of me. It was obvious that he had done this before.

My mind was already mush by the time Eric slid his finger out of me, turning me around and peppering my shoulder with wet kisses. It didn't take long before he leaned down to tug my pants down to my knees, fingers eager. I wasn't sure how to explain the burning need that was currently clawing at me, but I knew it was all-consuming. Eric had consumed me-- I knew I was his and only his.

So when I felt his big, strong hands grip my hips, pushing me towards him to allow for an easier entrance, I could only moan out in complete and utter satisfaction as I felt his cock sink into me. Eric let out a breathy grunt, now snaking both hands around my body, burying himself to the hilt with the slowest stroke known to man. "Fuck," was all he managed to say, hissing slightly against my shoulder before sucking down on a spot, wanting to leave behind a mark.

I couldn't believe the strange places my mind went to-- why was I contemplating getting that hickey tattooed? I wouldn't need it anyway, if Eric kept his promise and stayed with me after we both got out. There was nothing I wanted more in the whole wide world.

All my concerns flew out the window as Eric gripped my waist for leverage as he continued to thrust into me, leaving me with my mouth open against the wall. My body was aching with pleasure unmatched anything I had ever felt before, and I knew that the difference between this time and all my other escapades was how much I had craved Eric-- and how much I knew he craved me.

My breath hitched as he nipped at my jaw, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. "Wanted this... so, so long..." Eric let out a grunt as his hands went down to my hips again, pulling away from my neck to watch his cock pump into my dripping core. I was quite sure it was glistening with my slick by the sounds of it. "Wanted this-- Wanted you."

"Me too," I cried, resting my hands against the wall, meeting his thrusts. "Every night, all the time..."

"All the time," he echoed. "Forever."

My breath hitched at both his words and the way one of his hands left my hip, ghosting over my stomach. I knew exactly where it was heading, and I had to bite back a rather loud moan as Eric dipped his hand down between my legs. Eric spread his fingers, covering my whole cunt, feeling the sides of his own cock rut into me. It didn't take long before his whole hand was practically covered in my slick, and I was quite sure I heard a drop hit the floor. Everything about it made me shiver.

Like this, I was practically pushed to rut against the palm of his hand, the pressure against my clit making me gasp-- I knew I wouldn't last long like this. Perfect.

By the sounds of it, Eric wouldn't either. He let a breathy moan escape his lips before he let go of my hips, reaching up to grab my chin, tilting it to the side so that he could kiss me. I let out a soft cry against his lips, feeling my walls clamp down around his thick cock. Feeling beyond full, I reached around to grab his dark hair, feeling his locks between my fingers as a familiar tightening in my stomach appeared.

"You're the only one I've ever wanted this badly," Eric murmured against my lips, his thrusts becoming rushed and erratic, clearly holding back his high. "Be mine-- Fuck, be mine?"

If I hadn't been this close to my high, I would've cried. "All yours, Eric, all yours... A-Aah!--" My walls clamped around him as I was driven against the palm of his hand once more, driving me over the edge, coming harder than I probably ever had before.

Eric took this as a green light-- It didn't take long before he let out a grunt against my shoulder, gently biting down as ropes of cum decorated my walls, his thick cock twitching with its release inside of me.

Our pants filled the stairway, and I was quite sure my legs would give out as he pulled out of me with a wet pop, tucking himself back into his trousers. I could only smile, leaning against the wall as I let out a sigh of relief. I was so incredibly glad we managed to do all of this before getting caught-- I was sure I wouldn't have been able to wait until we were both out. The burning in my body subsided, the ache turning into an all-consuming feeling of joy.

I turned to Eric with a soft smile spread across my lips, trying to steady my breathing. He was especially beautiful now-- kiss-swollen lips really suited him.

He returned my smile, leaning forward to capture my lips in a soft, gentle kiss. My hands reached out for him, cupping his face as my thumbs caressed his cheeks. It was such an exhilarating feeling to be adored like this, and I wasn't sure I would ever experience it until now. Meeting Eric felt like seeing a lunar rainbow-- exceptionally rare.

However, Eric's sweet smile suddenly turned back into his usual mischievous smirk. Before I could even say a word, he had dropped down to his knees, leaning forward to wrap his lips around my aching sex, covering my whole mound as he sucked at me.

I could barely breathe as I realized what he was doing-- was he sucking his own cum out of me? This was new. And weirdly pleasurable. I let out a wanton moan, gripping his hair in the exact same way I did in Eric's drawing. I could only whimper as his tongue darted out, drawing a circle around my overstimulated clit-- instinctively, my hips bucked against his mouth. Something about this felt weirdly full-circle. "Eric, wait!-- Shit,"

He hummed, looking up at me with those green eyes I loved so much. "Will you kill me if I draw this?"

I could only sigh-- bliss.

(a/n: PART 1, PART 3 linked here!! enjoy<33)

#the crow 2024 #eric draven x reader #the crow x reader #the crow fanfiction #eric draven fanfiction #the crow #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard #eric draven

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jimvasta · 7 months ago

Text

Humans and their pets

The sentient races of the universe have just about started to get their heads, or approximate similar in function body parts, around the odd nature of humans but only recently have humans begun to bring other Earth creatures into space with them.

“Don't worry about Fluffy, he's totally ship trained.” the human designated Bradley spoke with frightening casualness about the creature sat at his side. It's muzzle was level with his hips and it's forward facing eyes showed it had predator history just as much as humans did.

“It has fangs.” Captain Mota'tog was unimpressed. The permissions were correctly stamped on the file and yet such a creature hardly appeared inoffensive.

“He does not, he's not poisonous. Of course some of his teeth are sharp, he's an omnivore.”

“He's a hunter.”

“He mostly hunts biscuits. He'll scavenge in the canteen from anyone soft enough to feed him. He's a certified well-being dog. People stroke him, he's got really soft fur, it makes them feel better. Look, he's wagging his tail, it means he likes you.”

Mota-tog whistled uncertainly.

“Oh wow!” One of the human engineers arrived at the airlock and dropped her bag as she stared at the dog. “So cute!”

Fluffy jumped round, tail wagging furiously, nuzzling in as the woman buried her hands in his warm soft fur.

“You are totally gorgeous. You're so fluffy and beautiful, you're like a little polar bear. You're here to stay, yes you are.” the woman happily baby talked to the dog who was more than half her size.

Bradley looked at the Captain and indicated. “See. Dogs make us happy.”

“You do all the care for it.”

“Of course.”

There were some false starts with the rest of the crew who were not so trusting of the huge pack hunter in their midst, but over the next few months they slowly learned to trust that the worst he would do was beg for food off their plates at meal times. Some of the braver aliens even began to pet him.

Then an alarm sounded.

Everyone raced to their emergency stations.

Bradley was in the cargo hold, his duty was to check the cargo was safe and secure.

He had quickly trained Fluffy to sit in a corner out of the way. It kept him safe in case anything shifted. The last thing he wanted was for his pet to get hurt by moving cargo.

The clang of magnetic grabs was deafening.

The alert was for a boarding raid.

Pirates.

Bradley cracked his knuckles and picked up a pry bar.

Through the rest of the ship there were varying degrees of panic.

A few of the other species could fight but most looked to the humans, having learned the way they fought when cornered and knowing their best hope to survive was to stay back and wait for the screaming to stop.

“What the fuck is that?!” the shout was shock and outrage. More anger than fear in the moment.

Crouching as it came through the main airlock was a creature taller and broader than anything else on the ship.

“Star spirits preserve us,” Mota'tog whistled. “A Batath.”

“It's a bloody troll is what it is.” Martins snapped.

Everyone froze as they heard the snarling and growling.

It was not coming from the Batath.

Fluffy arrived at speed and leapt, not caring can his opponent was huge. His fur was already matted with the blood of pirates and this was just another opponent.

The humans charged.

The Batath could only concentrate on one enemy at a time, it was used to picking off creatures as they ran, not fighting them off as something had its teeth deep around a knee trying to rip it apart.

The pirates ran when the Batath fell and the gore covered humans turned to face them.

Bradley let himself drop to the deck. “Don't worry, I'm fine. Good boy, Fluffy.”

Mota'tog shook his feathers as he watched the dog go back from snarling killing machine to placid fuss receiver. “I swear to the spirits, all Earth creatures are insane.”

#humans are space orcs #writers on tumblr #haso #writers #all the creatures of Earth are crazy #humans are deathworlders

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jaggedamethyst · 24 days ago

Text

golden boy (part 3) | jayce talis x female reader

3.3k words

content: fawk it!! part three of jayce making reader a vibrator with hextech. everyone round of applause for golden boy!! (part one, part two)

notes/warnings: 18+ minors dni, angst, oral (female receiving), some sub!jayce, unprotected sex (dont be like them!), lmk if I missed anything as always

ps: while this is the end for now, I may consider adding some parts when inspiration strikes. its been fun writing for my best guy for a few weeks now...the arcane brain rot is real and I will never stop adding to the madness. thanks for reading in advance. - amethyst 💟

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

Being from the Undercity meant that from a young age you were particularly skilled at evasion. When Enforcers arrived, you were able to lie at the drop of a dime. At the mention of your now nonexistent family you could mask your emotions. Most importantly, you could get out of Piltover undetected.

Slyly turning corners, you’d finally emerged on the outside. Regret filled you, then.

You didn’t want to think of Jayce there—the fact that he would wake up alone. Truthfully you’d often reason that this was for the better, that you leaving would soften the blow of having to explain how fucked up you were. It was something you found yourself discussing often.

“I have a particularly vested interest in this…seeing as though I also fell for a Piltie.”

It was hard to be a Zaunite and not at least know of Vi. You’d actually met when you were younger. You swapped stories of lost families, hate for authority, and a penchant for being hardasses.

“I didn’t fall for him, Vi. He was just there when I needed someone.”

“Sure, but I was here, too. When that piece of shit lied to you…got married…I was here. You’re not all over me like you are with Jayce. So how do you explain that?”

You knew it was more than just sex with him as much as you hated to admit it. But there’d been countless examples of the between-worlds love story simply not working.

“Vi, you and the Kiramman girl didn’t even work. Again and again you two have tried and nothing…”

“Sometimes it’s just worth saying you tried. That despite everything, you opened up just that little bit.”

You’d downed drink after drink that night—the sting barely masking the nagging at your mind to just go see him. But the sadness you’d feel was always overrun with hate. He proved you right. The cycle continued. A month had passed and he hadn’t even looked for you.

You and Vi proved similar, again. When she suggested you take up fighting to release your tension, you hadn’t even thought twice. It was yet another way to remind yourself that you deserved to feel this. Every stupid decision you’d made up until this point warranted the physical pain.

It quickly got out of hand.

Before Jayce became a member of the council, he didn’t make a habit of leaving Piltover. Now that he was in a position of power, he found himself in Zaun often. It was important to him that he didn’t see you, though. The twinge in the pit of his stomach had only subsided moderately at the thought of you. Until the embers in his body had completely burned out—he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of giving in. Of being good.

The opportunity to walk the Undercity afforded him time to observe things he’d later note in his proposition for a large-scale integration. He figured this was bigger than you somehow. If you ever did will yourself to feel even a modicum of what he felt for you, it’d be worth it to have made it safer for you. Regardless, he was still taken aback by how gritty Zaun was every time. He thought of his partner living here—hardly able to walk.

You saw him, then. He was passing a corner, clearly in thought. Something that crossed his mind had upset him. You wondered if it was about you. What you would give to be able to smooth the creases in his face, to tell him that whatever it was would be okay, to make certain it was.

But it wasn’t. You’d left. Again.

He should’ve expected to run into you. He’d never seen you look so disheveled; there was always an air of composure about you. But looking at you now, you’d been neglecting to take care of yourself.

It happened so fast. As if you felt the magnetic pull of his eyes on you. In the second that you’d turned to examine him, a crack hit the side of your face. You wanted to swing back, finish the fight you started, but you figured you deserved this. You’d let the rage take over. So when the punches came down and you started to black out, you couldn’t help the smile on your face.

_________

You jolted awake later, observing a man hobbling across the room.

“Viktor?”

He turned to you, “You know who I am?”

You sat up a bit, “Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you, although I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“You must be the Zaunite girl.”

You interrupted, offended by the remark. “Excuse me-“

Viktor held up a hand to stop your incoming rant, he knew the feeling too well.

“My partner…is nothing if not consistent.” He sat down next to you, “Taking two helpless Undercity residents beneath his wing seems quite…fitting for Jayce.”

“You’re…from Zaun?”

He nodded. “I’m sure you understand the feeling of being around someone like Jayce.”

You nodded in response. The feeling of unease not needing further explanation.

“Jayce mentioned to me this plan he has. To consolidate Piltover and Zaun into one entity. Again, my partner fails to recognize the intricacies of having such an ambitious plan.”

“I…didn’t know about that. Makes sense that he would be so set on creating a utopia.”

You both laughed at that, knowing the man all too well.

You continued, “With Jayce, I feel like I’m always seeking something out. Like I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?” You shifted in your seat, trying to explain. “If I get ahead of the bad I know is coming, I can avoid getting hurt. But that feels so…pessimistic?”

After a while, Viktor stood again. “I would be remiss to call a person such as yourself a pessimist.”

He slowly made his way over to a cabinet, pulling out an umbrella.

“Despite my life's work here, I truly have nothing else to offer you except this…and time.” He pushed the umbrella into your hands, “It should rain soon. If you want to get away before he comes back, you should go now.”

You slid off of the bench that you were seated on. “But why?”

He motioned toward the door, following behind you. “Jayce Talis is the most brilliant man I have ever known, and yet he fails to see the world with the nuance it demands.”

There was an understanding between you again. That reconciliation was a lot to face. That although there was an inexplicable care for the man, it was hard for him to understand you both sometimes.

“Thank you.”

——————

The umbrella did little for protecting your body as you ran through the storm, yet you’d left a mental note to thank Viktor at some point.

Fury had bubbled in you in a split second, “Shit!” You kicked one of your chairs in frustration. The thought of Jayce going out of his way to make sure you were safe and arriving to you gone again was painful. You wanted to feel numb. The desire for nothing about Jayce Talis to ever harm you again was debilitating.

A banging on the door made you freeze. It couldn’t…

A knock again, and the voice you longed to hear from.

“It’s me.”

Jayce called your name, his voice breaking with every repetition.

You swung the door open. He looked so defeated—out of breath and covered in water. He’d clearly not thought to grab anything to shield him from the rain.

With your usual feigned annoyance you broke the silence. “I told you to never come here.”

There was an agreement made between you two, that you would always come to him. You weren’t embarrassed of your home, far from it. But you did hate the feeling of relinquishing control. When with Jayce, you always reserved that right to leave at your own discretion—with him here you instantly felt the restraints.

He huffed at that, his usual apprehension replaced with exasperation.

“Shut up.”

He pulled you in by your neck, kissing you as if to punctuate the command. He moved you back into your house, closing the door behind you both. Every fear had evaporated from your mind. It was always so good with him. You knew he would take care of you in every way.

Everything between you remained unspoken for now, your rain-soaked clothes finding their way to your floor.

Jayce’s physique is one that you loved, but became rather daunting the more he’d taken control.

He pushed you again, this time leaving you on display for him on your bed. He looked you up and down slowly. It made you nervous—the lack of readable expression on his face. When you’d finally made eye contact, he broke it quickly, reaching toward his clothes on the floor. He returned to you quickly, his body fully enveloping yours.

He kissed your neck sweetly, a way only he could. He made note to suck down on your telltale spots—where you’d been the most sensitive. Making his way to your chest, he looked up at you with a mix of desire and hurt in his eyes. In his left hand he’d massaged your nipple between his fingers, his mouth finding the other. Your chest heaved. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were distracted. He knew the trick very well, seeing as you’d fooled him more than he could count.

A sudden pulse and sucking sensation jolted you to attention. Jayce had a coy look on his face—and his free hand was on what you had to assume was a new prototype.

You instinctively circled your hips toward him, craving more. He pressed you down, stopping your movement. The way he continued rubbing on your clit made you fight the urge to writhe against him.

Your face was suddenly met with his and a peck was left on your lips. When he broke contact, he simultaneously turned the vibration up to the max. You were completely inconsolable. He watched your coherence leave your mind with a menacing smile—still refusing to utter a word.

You wanted to say something, anything. You fought to question what this sudden change was about, why he was so adamant about tearing you apart right now. But part of you could tell that this was his way of keeping you silent. A sensation this good always left you speechless—your jaw slack and eyebrows pinched together.

The max setting was a continued pulse and grip on your clit that you couldn’t even process. You weren’t sure where the pain and pleasure met but it was too damn good to stop.

He kept looking at you. He knew you’d be done soon. All of the signs were there. It was sort of torturous for you to try and form words in your mind and have nothing come to fruition.

Having him stare at you with a look of disdain in his eyes was even worse. The once yellow color that would wrap you up like the warmth of the Sun now pierced into you.

He still coaxed you along, needing to prove a point—for you to finish. Within a few more seconds you jolted and froze against him, your legs tightening around his waist.

He quickly brushed off your grip on his torso, moving to stand. He turned his back to you, discarding his prototype, and steadying himself with his hands on his hips.

“Is this what you wanted?” He didn’t look at you. He didn’t have to; he knew you were confused by this entire thing. “Is this all you ever need from me? To show up, make you feel better for a while, and then watch you leave?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you know? Because at this point I can’t tell.”

“Me either.”

Jayce finally turned to you, observing your head in your hands. “W-we can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy.”

“I know.”

He moved a bit closer to you, surely angry now.

“Are you going to say more than a few words to me or will this be the same as always?”

You spoke under your breath, barely audible over the sound of the rain. “What else do you want me to say, Jayce?”

Words threatened to spill from you. The force with which you’d pushed them down had left you. A figurative steam had started to escape you, a bubbling on the verge of spilling over. Looking at Jayce was often the only catalyst you’d needed, that remained a constant today, it seemed.

You peered over at him now, “What do you want me to say, hm? That I feel fucking stupid because I let myself feel something I swore I would never? That you’re the only person to make me feel something other than fear?” You dropped down from the bed, looking up at him. Tears that you’d held in finally met the brim of your eyes. “That,” you paused, “I care about you so much that the thought of it being more makes me want to die. That because I felt that before…with someone else…and was ruined entirely because of it that I can’t let myself be happy. Is that what you want?” You wiped your face swiftly, looking away, “Is it?”

He surprised you when he carefully brought you into a hug. The grip of one hand on the back of your head, the other on your back was cathartic. You recounted every instance for which you’d felt safe with Jayce, there were too many to count.

He inhaled slowly and let out an even deeper exhale. “What I want is for you to meet me where you can.”

He pulled back a bit, his arms trailing your arms as he grasped both of your hands. He slowly sank to kneel in front of you, both knees planted to the carpet. Despite you both being completely bare, his grip around your body was far from sexual. He laid his head on you, his forehead relaxing into your lower abdomen.

“For every night that you’re willing to stay, I promise to be with you the next day.”

You stared ahead, the man’s head in your lower peripheral. The sheer magnitude of that kind of commitment already weighed on you. But you figured, who better to carry the load with than Jayce? You didn’t need to be strong enough to bear it alone; you knew the golden boy had enough fortitude to make the heaviest of burdens feel light.

“Say something…please.”

You blinked, “Okay.”

“Okay?” He leaned back, looking at your face.

You nodded.

The tough exterior the man had worn soon dissipated. A veil so uncomfortable for him that he didn’t recognize himself in the last few minutes. He nuzzled into you, grasping at your skin like you would disappear into thin air.

The whole ordeal had happened so quickly, you didn’t even get to comment on the way his appearance had changed.

“I like the new hair. It really says tortured scientist to me.”

He hadn’t actually noticed his lack of upkeep these last few weeks. He chuckled, knowing he’d pinpointed how you didn’t take care of yourself—and yet here he was.

“Do you see what you’ve done to me? I didn’t even shave my face.”

You brushed a piece of hair behind his ear. “I actually think the rough look is pretty sexy. Maybe we should stop talking for another month.”

“Too soon.”

“Is it?” You lifted a leg over his shoulder, “We shouldn’t talk about it then, right?”

He tilted his face, rubbing into the inner skin on your thigh. He nodded, but got distracted by the sight in front of him. You were already dripping, a mix of arousal from before and now. He looked up through his lashes, asking for your approval.

“Go ahead.”

You would think that Jayce was starving the way he started to devour you. His head between your thighs, his tongue pushing into you, and his hands kneading at your legs was a combination that always had you weak in front of him. If you somehow could stay this way forever, spread thin, you would. The added friction of the stubble on his face hurt so good. You were sure there’d be a burn on you later—but you would wear it with honor.

In the way you admired his fingers you would give the utmost praise to Jayce’s mouth. You shivered, his tongue flattening over you, a long and final swipe collecting every drop of you. He tapped your leg on his shoulder twice before lowering it. He made a show of licking his lips while he laid back on the bed.

“Come take what you need.”

You’d been in this position before—the man beneath you dripping in precum. You straddled him, the muscle memory kicking in. You let your lips trail across his collarbone. You’d yet to let him in you, rubbing your wetness up and down him. You made certain he was rock hard as you slowly connected his shoulder blades in an assortment of bruises. Eventually you gripped him, circling your hole with the head of his dick.

He rested his hands on your hips, pressing down a bit. “Please-“

You slowly sank onto him, letting out a puff of air at the stretch.

Leaning toward his ear, you spoke again. “I think you’ve waited long enough.”

Without missing a beat, you pushed up and down on him. He instinctively met you, slapping into you at a slow rhythm he knew you’d loved. You rolled your neck, the piercing in your stomach was worth the time apart. You’d wait for him, you thought. It was the least you could do after he’d been so understanding with you. A month…a year…any amount of time was worth seeing him splayed so pretty beneath you.

The wet sounds of you two slowly working each other could have been considered lewd had it not been for Jayce’s whimpers. Suddenly, the sounds bouncing off your walls seemed rather sweet.

“Mmm, f-fuck,” and he continued like that for a while. Resounding sounds of pleasure and pain vibrated in your ears—urging you to speed up.

Your deliberate circlings into him had become less controlled bounces. You were close. It didn’t matter how much longer, Jayce always found a way to finish with you.

“C-can I?” He looked between you, the way you molded together so well. He always asked before he came in you. You definitely should’ve cared more about the implications, but your fervent nods made him snap up into you even harder.

He noticed your irregular movement, flipping you two over. He was above you now—a sight you were getting more familiar with these days. An inadvertent smile found your lips, then, as he scrambled beside you. He immediately started the vibration on your clit, pumping into you at the same time. You clawed at his back, your walls squeezing into him, coaxing the release out of him.

“Need you to cum, baby. Let me feel you,” he uttered between moans.

“Jayce, I-“

“Its okay…its all okay.”

He always had a way with words. Even when the situation found you both entangled with one another—he found a way to reassure you that you were safe. The thought alone had your legs wrapped around his back, finally finishing with him. Your entire body pulsed as he worked you thoroughly. He slipped away from you with a groan, his hand swiping at you. Before you could protest, he sucked on a drenched finger, cleaning it completely.

“Sweeter than I remember.”

You both laid there, heaving for breath but not a word exchanged. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jayce fighting sleep. Without thinking, you reached to turn off the lights, draping yourself over his chest. He sighed and kissed your forehead—finally allowing himself rest.

——————

Jayce woke in the morning, the Sun’s rays meeting his eyelids with a heat that forced him to relinquish sleep. He felt around for you but as he’d suspected…nothing. He craned his head to the side, eyebrows raising a bit.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

You were there.

You scrambled a bit, “I’m sorry, I stepped out and went to the Lanes really quick. Vander’s not the best cook but I figured you might be hungry…I’m starving-“

He let out a breath he’d been holding, “It’s good to see you.”

You smiled, “You too.”

#jaggedamethyst #angst #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce talis x reader #jayce talis x you #arcane #arcane x reader #jayce x reader #golden boy #jayce talis arcane #jayce arcane #jayce league of legends

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dilf-docs · 2 months ago

Note

hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v.(use protection guys pls!!! don't be like this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

#dilfistwrites #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #eddie brock fanart #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock smut #eddie brock fanfic #venom #venom movie #venom symbiote #venom smut #venom spoilers #venom 3 #venom the last dance #marvel #marvel smut

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dahliakbs · 10 months ago

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Damian Wayne x Child! Reader (Part 1) - This won't do —⁠☆

Synopsis: after seeing the state of your apartment Damian pulls some strings and changes your life on step at a time.

Masterlist , Pillager Of Art

"Are your parents attending the pta meeting?" Damian asks.

After seeing the wretched state your house was in Damian chose to stand at the door.

The moldy yellow floor of your apart was covered in dirt and whatever substances you managed track back into the house. The walls in the same sorry state with a moldy yellow wallpaper that was covered in nasty cracks and stains that could never be removed.

The tiles of your flooring were covered in a bottomless pit of clothes and whatever else was in that pile. Your window didn't show some immaculate view of Gotham City instead it was closed off with would. Glass shards left on the floor in front of the window after a stray bullet was shot through your window.

"Oh my Dad, he's not coming" you say as you make your way towards your kitchen.

Damian couldn't bare looking into the kitchen to see what mess was made in their so he chose to stair the ceiling instead.

"Why not?" He tilts his head to the side, he was told by Alfred that events like these were the only way to see how your child was progressing and apparently it was mandatory for parents to attend so why weren't your coming?

"Oh, my parents are dead" you said as if It didn't bother you and it didn't.

Your mother had sadly passed away during child birth.

Your dad tho...

He was a piece of work, never cared for your well-being AT ALL. You basically raised yourself in this house. The only reason you hadn't starved yet was because your father left food in the cupboard for you to use (mostly unhealthy cheap food).

You barely ever saw your dad and when he died you hadn't even noticed, not like he ever came home anyway. The only way you knew was when the news broadcast came on and you saw a blurred out image of a man that vaguely resembled your father.

There were several gunshot holes scattered around the figures body and by the looks of it he was probably just getting off of work before the death occurred.

The situation never bothered you, having no adults around was a blessing if anything.

"My parents can't come but I'll wait with you until your dad does" you replied and gasped when you found what you were looking for.

"Dami you have to try one" you turned to him with a cup of ramen noodles in hand.

"No thank you, aren't there other options?" he asked as he began to list off foods he'd already eaten before.

Safe to say, you hadn't even know those foods existed or eaten anything that wasn't microwavable.

This wouldn't do.

When he left your house that evening he made it his mission to find a way to get you out of that situation.

And that he did, when the day of the PTA meeting arrives Damian is oddly quiet. Not as if he talked much anyway.

While you both waited for his dad to finish speaking with the teachers he'd a held a tight grip on your hand as if to silently tell you not to run off anywhere.

"Dami I still don't know why you told me to bring all my stuff with me, are we having a sleepover?" You asked, you were told to bring all necessities which means that you needed your tooth brush and whatever you could salvage from that mess of a house.

"You'll know when we get there" he said calmly which only made your excitement grown even more. He was already pretty used to your energetic behavior so this was nothing.

At last the meeting had finished and you were all exiting he building.

"Is this the friend you told me about Damian" his father spoke up only to receive a nod in return.

You had never noticed how eerily similar they look but now that you were stood right before him you realized noticed the shared features.

"(Reader) right" Bruce got down in one knee so he could speak to you at eye level. Now, extending invitations to join the family weren't an everyday occurrence but if his son was so hard pressed on your living conditions and even brought up good points as to why you can't live there.

Plus he knew you were a good kid.

"A little Birdy informed me of your living conditions and they wanted me to extend an exciting offer to you" he spoke to you in a way that made your excitement peak.

You were so excited that you hadn't even noticed when you got in the car or when you arrived at the manor or when you arrived at Damian's bedroom door.

For you everything went by quickly, so quickly that when you woke up the next morning you couldn't even remember why you were in Damian's house or why you were currently bundled up across from his sleeping face.

He must've bundled you up while you were asleep. He was always considerate but rarely ever showed you that side of him.

"Dami, I need to go home" you said groggily.

"Your not going anywhere" he instantly replied.

"But I can't stay here forever, I need to go home" you said in a worried tone but he only raised a brow.

"I knew you weren't listening" he sighed.

"Just go back to sleep" he waved his hand in front if your face which seemed to do the trick because you were knocked out within seconds.

And just like that you were silently adopted into the family.

#batfam #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfamily #damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman #batman x child! reader #batman x child reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #dc x you #dc #dc x reader

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keferon · 2 months ago

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Part 2 because why not? And I can't stop thinking about it

_______________________

Every mech present at the med bay was looking at the small form in the table.

The organic form found inside Jazz had been recharging for some time already, having fainted during the (very clumsy and inexperienced) treatment that it received by the medics and was now laying in some soft fabrics they managed to aquire.

The only indicative that it was alive was the movement of its chest and the twitchs it made form time to time.

"So you found that inside Jazz?"

Optimus was there, having run to the med bay the moment he heard about what had happened.

"Yeah..."

Prowl was sitting close to the table, staring at the organic, still shaken by everything.

His friend just died, then a small organic came out of him, then it spoke with his friends voice.

He was so confused and overwhelmed, and it was obvious to every mech present at the med bay.

Optimus hummed in acknowledgement before asking to some other mech.

"And Jazz's body?"

"Already recovered and it's being repaired, but..."

Optimus frowned at that.

"But?"

The mech hesitated for a moment.

"It's nothing like us" The mech said "His body is not cybertronian"

"It's an empty shell" Another added.

Optimus didn't say anything to that, not because he knew about that or anything like that.

But because of the small grunt that he heard.

All optics turned to the organic in the table, now off of its armor.

It didn't move much, just opened its optics and stammered so quietly that only Prowl could hear.

"I feel like a shark's chew toy"

Jazz was feeling horrible, his body was sore and his vision was cloudy.

He tried to sit up, but immediately cringed, his expression showing the pain he was feeling.

"You should stay put"

A familiar voice came to his years, loud and clear, well, louder then normal and not so clear for his current weak state.

But he smiled, because, regardless of everything, Prowl was there, so, with a little effort, he tried ti focus vis vision.

"I stay put when I'm dead, and I'll only die in the cockpit of my mecha, I'm a pilot, not a coward, that and death wont dare to take me before I go back home"

He really wanted to put a strong image, he really did, but he froze when his vision finally returned to more normal state.

He was in the repair room that these guys called Med Bay, in a very big table and staring back at many other mechas, who gave him strage looks.

Prowl included.

Even Optimus was there.

That was... enerving.

"Umm... Hello sir?" He said with a forced smile.

There was an awkward silence in the room, the stares became more overwhelming.

Prowl was the one to make the first move.

He got up and looked at the others.

"May I speak with him alone?"

The others seemed to want to say no, but, with Optimus permission, they all left the room.

He waited for the return of the silence to sit back again and stare at the organic, who stared back at him with a confusion he was not used to associate to Jazz, nor the awkward smile that to it.

"Hey Prowler, what's up? Did I stay out for that long?"

"You've been out for a whole Solar Cycle"

The organic frowned, a strange sight for Prowl, as he never seen a species so similar to Cybertronians.

"Just day? Damn, with how groggy I was I thought I had been out for longer, anyway, how's my mecha? I really hope there was no blood spilled, it'll take forever to clean the cockpit and I don't even want to think about the damage"

Prowl didn't say anything at that, taking the information carefully.

It seemed relaxed, like Jazz always did after a day in the battlefield, not caring for its wounds even though he could see the pain on its eyes, trying to hid it with a smile.

It was more worried about the body it was inhabiting.

As much as he didn't want to start the interrogation, he, too, didn't want to be in the dark of this situation.

"Jazz"

The organic stoped talking, tilting its head Jazz did when he was confused.

"Yes Prowler?"

He pursed his derma, an ugly frown forming.

It responde to the name like Jazz would and called him by the way he would.

He hesitated, but the question came anyway.

"What are you?"

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD YES YES THIS IS SO GOOD YOU ARE COOKING ANON

Link to the part one

#……damn I need to start organising this au in some way….#I can’t just let all these wonderful posts keep lying around it will be a mess #hmmmmm #mecha pilot jazz au

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archangeldyke-all · 1 month ago

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Omgggg I love Sevikas and readers little found family with Jinx and Isha. Do you ever think that, over time, Jinx and Isha would pick up on some of their mannerisms, especially Isha 'cause she's so young?

I can just imagine reader having this face she shows when she's disgusted and then one day they're all hanging out and Isha sees something she thinks is disgusting and can copy the face almost exactly.

this is so cute

men and minors dni

even before isha joins your little family, there are certain quirks in jinx that you can easily identify as sevika's. as much as they claim they hated each other before silco's death, sevika was still a pretty big influence on jinx during her formative years.

jinx has learned how to scowl the same way sevika does, and she's nailed sevika's annoyed eye rolls.

the two both refuse to open packaging with scissors or knives-- both tearing into food packages with their teeth.

and, over time, jinx has taken on sevika's eating habits-- swirling all the food on her plate into one mass of mush before eating, claiming 'it helps mix the flavors.' just like sevika does.

but then isha joins your little family, and both her and jinx start picking up on more and more of you and sevika's quirks.

sevika sneezes loud as hell. like, scare the shit out of you loud. it's one of the most annoying things about her, and she can't control it no matter how hard she tries.

so when isha starts sneezing like she's being punted in the stomach, a loud, guttural "AAACH!" coming from the little girl-- you can't help but cackle each and every time. (especially when she manages to scare sevika, because it's so satisfying to watch your wife be on the receiving end of being startled by a loud sneeze.)

every morning, the first thing you do once you wake up (and give sevika her good morning kisses and cuddles) is some quick yoga in the living room. it's nothing fancy-- it's just ten minutes of stretches and yawns-- but it always manages to help you feel awake and ready for the day.

lately, jinx has been joining you.

you'll wander into the living room rubbing sleep out of your eyes, only to find jinx there, sipping a cup of coffee and soaking up the rising sun. you're both wordless as you sit on the floor, stretching and waking up together. jinx copies your movements sometimes, but sometimes she just stretches the way she feels like she needs. the best part is at the very end when you do partnered stretches, the pair of you taking turns to pull one another's arms and stretch each other's legs. it's nice.

isha being nonverbal means she communicates mostly through facial expressions. sevika being a woman of few words also means she communicates mostly through facial expressions. sometimes, it's a little uncanny how similar isha's 'you've got to be shitting me' face is to your wife's. or her 'i'm so excited but i'm trying to play it cool' face. or her 'i'm hungry and tired and unamused.' face.

and one night, as you're drifting off to sleep, sevika leans forward and kisses your forehead. "love you." she whispers. you sleepily scrunch your face, and sevika chuckles. "isha makes the same face when she's sleepin' and i tell 'er that. first time she did it i almost cried-- it's so you."

you force your sleepy eyes open to stare up at your smiling wife. "i really like our family, sev." you mumble.

sevika grins and swoops down to kiss you. "me too, baby." she giggles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes @dvrkhcld

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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moonchildstyles · 10 months ago

Text

pleasing

y/n is harry's best friend and she'd never received a valentine's present like this one before.

wordcount: 9.5k+

—————

Just as she finished patting in her skincare for the night, (Y/N)'s phone vibrated for where she had it plugged in, in her bedroom. There was only one person that would be calling her this late at night.

Dismissing the products she had scattered on her bathroom counter, she rushed back into her room. Upon the screen was a blurry, distorted picture of her best friend with his hair on top of his head in different spikes, thanks for a heaping of sticky hair gel and free time during a snowstorm. His name was plastered across the top, the peapod emoji right next to it. She didn't hesitate before she answered the call.

"Harry?" she sang after pressing her phone to her ear.

"Hey, are you busy?"

"I'm just getting ready for bed. Why?"

"Can I FaceTime you?"

She barely had time to give a yes before the call switched to a FaceTime in her hand, her screen lighting up a beat later. In front of her was the top half of his face, revealing only his eyes and up. His hair was pulled back with a claw clip, the angle showing off the length of his lashes and the furrow of his brow.

(Y/N) could see herself in the small box in the corner of the screen, showing off a rather similar angle to what he was giving, though she thought hers was much less flattering somehow.

"Hello?"

The furrow in her best friend's brow decreased at the sound of her voice, giving away the smile that was spreading across his lips even if she couldn't see it on screen.

"Can y'see me?" he asked, his voice sounding muffled and far away.

"Yes, but I can barely hear you. Are you covering your speakers?"

Her world went askew as Harry shuffled his phone in his hand, his mouth set in a comical frown for a glimpse before he righted his grip and was back with the half view of his face. "Sorry, can y'hear me now?"

She hummed a confirmation, smiling to the camera. "What did you want to show me?"

Harry's cheeks lifted, giving away the hint of a dimple in the corner of the frame. "I have new samples."

A gasp fell from (Y/N) lips, excitement filling her. "For the collection?! Or different ones?"

"For the collection."

Her excitement only rose at the new information. "Let me see!" she bubbled, eagerly curling up on her bed, ready to spend the next hour poring over the new development with Harry.

After a small struggle and a lagging view of Harry's face, the camera suddenly turned to show a view of prototype nail polish bottles and first prints of shimmery nail stickers laid out on his black bedding.

Even in the low light of his room, (Y/N) could see flecks of glitter in a few of the polishes, the stickers glimmering in the shapes of hearts and flowers. The colors themselves ranged from quiet pastels to vivid brights, some left creamy, others containing barely-there shimmers, and the remainders boasting chunky bright glitters. The collection was large, containing two sets of polishes: one set was full of delicate pastels ranging in the pink family, with the other championing rich, clinging colors. The first iterations of the polish packaging came with the iconic spheres on the tops of the bottles, though this collection featured watercolor petals draped over the shape, leaving the illusion of flowers encased in the bottle all in the same color as the polish inside.

"What do you think?"

(Y/N) was sure he could see the wide set to her eyes, the way she was practically fawning over them already. "H, I love it! This is for the Valentine's collection, right?"

"Something like that, yeah," he answered, his smile evident in his voice, "I figured y'liked the pink ones."

"I do," she chirped, bringing her phone closer as if she could gain a clearer look of each shade that way. "Put your phone closer, I want to see the colors and the stickers better."

Harry did just that without hesitation, bringing his phone to his bed, though he went a step further and picked up the stickers to show off in front of the camera.

Gasping, (Y/N)'s brows bounced over her eyes when she took in the sticker sheet.

"Harry."

"What?"

"Are those bows?!"

He only laughed.

—————

"Goodnight, (Y/N). I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Talk to you tomorrow, H," (Y/N) yawned, unabashedly showing off a downturned angle of the moment while Harry watched on. "Let me know if you want to get dinner later this week. Love you."

His heart squeezed in his chest at her casual declaration. "Love you, too."

With that, the video of her sleepy face disappeared, showing only the simple photo he had saved to his lockscreen. Harry's gaze lingered on the empty space for a heartbeat, just a split second away from calling her back despite the late hour and the fact she'd been half asleep before he'd suggested she head to bed. He forced himself to lock his phone and set it on his bedside table, keeping it out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Still spread out on his bed, where he had sprawled out his limbs and grew comfortable amongst the bedding, were the new Pleasing products he had been so eager to show off. Everything was still in the test package, nothing completely finalized or one hundred percent polished just yet, but he'd been too excited. He'd shared the concept with (Y/N) ages ago, right after he'd made it out of a meeting with Harry Lambert and Molly, unable to keep the secret under wraps—especially when he found his own inspiration for the collection.

(Y/N).

It had been Molly's idea to unveil a Valentine's themed collection after the small set of apparel that would be released around his birthday, hoping to tap into another facet of him that was so beloved to the public. She had in mind something that would commemorate the love songs he was so famous for; the kind of sweetheart, love-sick energy that he often utilized to make his most memorable lyrics and showcased on stage.

As she had gone on, sharing what kind of feeling she wanted to invoke for the season's rollout, Harry was only thinking of his own inspiration.

It was the same thing that inspired his music, his attitude, his want to improve and be more and more than he started as.

His best friend.

He saw his own idea for the collection coming in flashes of her favorite colors, the shade of the dress she wore to his birthday party, the hue of her eyes, the colors that falling in love with her made him see in the world. He could see her with her fingernails proudly painted in his brand, the way she always did when Pleasing made something new just so she could support him. There were already prototypes of new apparel, manicure stickers, and campaign designs forming in his head.

Harry had come away from that meeting with plenty of ideas to think on, and lyrics forming that he hoped he wouldn't forget before he had a chance to write them down.

Months later, he had enough ideas for more than one micro-collection. Each one had been passed by Molly and Harry Lambert—both being excited and surprised that there was so much to be used and saved for later collections—leaving with a duo of aesthetics they planned on basing the campaign around.

That was what he had shown (Y/N) tonight, and was now spread across his bedspread as he tried to calm down his winding heart after their late night call. He kept seeing her face when she spotted the romantic set that was directly inspired by her, the way her eyes lit up when she took in the shades of pink and the shimmery accents. That had been the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he received the initial samples.

Collecting each piece, he took his time pulling each bottle, rolling them in his hands with bubbles floating through the polish. He wondered if (Y/N) would catch the connections when he revealed the names to her. He wondered if she would know that he named this shimmery soft pink Woman with her in mind, including inspiration from a song he penned that now was soaked in her memory. The buttery yellow with golden reflects dubbed Home, would she know that was based on the golden dress she wore the first time she saw him on tour? The rich, creamy red he'd called Feast, he hoped she'd see the lipstick she wore the first time they met in the shade.

He lingered over the bottles, all eight shades invoking a specific memory that went into the creation. Carefully replacing them in the drawer with the rest of his Pleasing pieces, ensuring nothing clinked together too hard with the sticker bundle staying together, he allowed himself a moment with the full collection under the bright light of his bathroom. It was near perfect, seeing it all together. All that was left to sample was the apparel that had been drafted up a few weeks prior with Harry Lambert's guidance, and the extra accessories they were debating on adding in the collection.

He had a feeling (Y/N) would fight to take the samples from him. The idea had a small smile spreading on his lips by the time he was flicking his bathroom light off and padding back to his room.

By the time Harry bundled himself in his bedding, his phone settled away in his bedside table, he shuttered his eyes though he could still see the ghost of (Y/N)'s excited face on the inside of his eyelids. Just as much as he hoped she would notice the names of the polishes, catch the fact that the stickers were an ode to her, the apparel made with her form in mind, scents formulated to sweep over her skin, he feared she wouldn't notice in the same way she'd never noticed him in the way he wanted.

Did she remember the yellow dress she wore to the first live show she could make it to? (Y/N) barely ever wore lipstick these days, did she even have that tube of red anymore? Did she ever listen to Woman and hear the words he was too scared to say to her every time she introduced him to a new boyfriend?

The idea needled at the center of his chest just as it always had when he was reminded that he was years into an infatuation that had no sign of ending either from sweet reciprocation or his heart moving on.

Nonetheless, he thought, grasping at positivity as always, he was going to revel in the reactions she gave him as if it were for himself. Those delicate compliments and the joyous excitement, he would hold tight as if they were for who he was and not something that he made.

And, probably try to convince her to be a part of the product shoot.

—————

i'm here !! 🍣🍣

(Y/N) pocketed her phone as she approached the small gate surrounding Harry's home, the concrete divider and plethora of greenery giving privacy to the space. The bag of takeaway sushi hung at her side, the hood of her coat lifted over her head in case there was anyone around hoping to spot a glimpse of Harry's personal life and spin whatever tale.

She didn't have to check if her text went through, having to wait only a moment before she heard him make his way from his front door and going through the protective greenery. "(Y/N)," he sang through the trees, the syllables of her name sifting through the plants.

"Harry," she reciprocated, a smile spreading across her lips at the familiar greeting.

Swinging open the gate, Harry welcomed her in with his hair held back in a familiar flower clip and dimples thumbed into his cheeks. She quickly stepped over the threshold, heading towards his porch while he locked the gate behind her. Only a beat after the click of the lock sounded, he fell into step beside her, hooking an arm around her shoulders.

"Hi," he smiled, dimples clear on his cheeks as he gazed down at her.

"Hi," she answered, her own features curling and softening. Feeling his eyes on her face, she took on the responsibility of guiding them towards the front door without stumbling through his garden. "Sorry I'm late. The sushi place was packed for some reason today."

"Yeah?" he sounded, voice decidedly softer than just a beat before, "'M sorry. I would have gone if I'd known it would be that busy."

"It's alright," she told him, leading them through his front door to which he dropped his arm from around her to instead shut and lock the door, "I just figured it wouldn't be so bad since they just opened, but everyone else probably had the same idea."

Placing the takeaway bag on the coffee table, (Y/N) shed her jacket and the knitted beanie covering her head. She had another question on her lips as she turned to face Harry once more, though that line died once she took in his outfit for the day.

"What are you wearing?"

A small smile spread over his lips at her words though he didn't offer his own response.

His legs were covered in athletic joggers, the same heather green ones he always seems to be wearing lately, but that wasn't what caught her attention. Draped over his torso was a delicately pink crewneck, thick and warm, with Pleasing scripted across the center of the chest in a mauve shimmer.

"That's new, isn't it?" she prodded, stepping towards him with her eyes on the shimmering puff print on the crewneck. He had mentioned something about adding apparel to the polish collection she'd been shown last week, but he didn't offer any specific details.

"Maybe," he teased, "Do you like it?"

Reaching his arms out, he let her see the full piece, including the glittery stitching that ran through the garment and drew her eyes along his form. She stepped towards him, running a finger along the seam at the cuff of the sleeve.

"I love it," she smiled, "I didn't know you were making these."

"I know—I wanted it to be a surprise," he told her, his arm flexing under her fingertip before dropping back to his side with his hands sliding into his pockets, "I know you've been wanting a pink one since the first set came out, so I thought it was finally time."

"For Valentine's Day?" she bubbled, thinking back to the samples he'd shown off to her the week before.

Something flashed over his eyes as they dropped from hers, taking in the rest of her features. "Something like that, yeah."

"Do you have any more?" Before he even answered, she couldn't help herself but to start edging towards the stairs bordering the wall behind her.

A plume of laughter fell from Harry's lips, catching her with his palm landing on her arms before she could scurry away. "No," he drawled as he pulled her back towards him, "But, you can have this one if y'want."

"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes wide as she fixed her gaze on him, hands on his chest over the puff print of the lettering. "I don't want to take it if this is the only one you're testing right now."

Harry shrugged her off, his hands on her arms sliding down in a lingering drag before they finally fell back to his sides. "'S alright. No one knows yet, anyway."

Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his to peruse over the glimmering neckline of the crewneck. "I don't want you to get it in trouble, though, if you give it away."

He scrunched his features, shaking his head as if what she said was completely incredulous. "(Y/N), I made it for you."

His words were cemented as he began pulling the piece off completely, leaving him in only the vintage shirt he'd had on underneath, the print faded and unfamiliar. He shoved the garment in her arms, a waft of his scent enveloping her.

(Y/N) hesitated for long enough that Harry had to have noticed, prompting him to set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Really, lovie. 'S alright. I don't want y'to have to wait to get your own."

Relenting, she fell into his chest, Harry wrapping his arms around her with a laugh rumbling his chest under her cheek. "Thanks, H. I promise I won't wear it out or anything until you announce it, though."

She could feel him smile when he buried his nose into her hair, his arms pulsing around her a snug embrace.

For a brief moment, (Y/N) let her eyes close as she sunk into his arms. The fragrance of his washing detergent and the lingering scent of his cologne that had sunk into every fiber of his home washed over her. There were times she could see her friendship with Harry moving into territory she'd been too fearful to even explore in her imagination, but feeling his embrace and the words I made it for you ringing in her ears, she could be coaxed to imagine a lot of things with him.

Before she could run too far away in her head, she drew away with a bright smile, hoping he didn't catch the warmth under her skin.

"We need to eat before our soup gets cold," she told him, stepping towards the couch with her new crewneck in her arms.

Harry followed after her, becoming a warm shadow as he took his seat next to her. It wasn't until all of the containers were distributed out from the bag, and (Y/N)'s new sweatshirt was folded carefully at her side that he peeked at her from where he was stirring his miso soup.

"I do have one condition with the crewneck," he murmured, taking a spoonful of tofu and seaweed. (Y/N), her own mouth full with a wonton, raised her brow in response. Taking his time to swallow, his words hanging in the air for a beat, Harry finally followed up with, "We might need an extra model for the Valentine's campaign."

"Okay," (Y/N) mumbled, a furrow pinching at her brows. "Do you need me to ask someone? I think I still have a couple of numbers of some of the people from your music videos if you want me to reach out."

A sheepish smile touched at the corners of Harry's lips. "No, I mean... Would you want to be a model? The shoots in a few weeks, so."

Pushing her chopsticks against the wontons floating in her soup, (Y/N) wasn't sure how to respond. "H, you know I'm not a model or anything—like, you remember that, right?"

He laughed at her remark. "Yes, I remember. This one's going to be really special, though, and a lot of fun. I want you to be in it—if you're comfortable."

She mulled over his words, rolling the short I want you around her head. "And this is a condition of taking the crewneck home with me today?"

A single dimple touched his cheek. "Something like that," he tilted his head, stirring his miso soup into a slow vortex, "I am doing you a favor, aren't I?"

She nudged his shoulder with her own, rolling her eyes. "You said it was made for me, how is it a favor to give it to me?" she teased, only shaking her head when he laughed at her.

A beat passed before Harry returned his eyes to her, his features softened and warm. "Really, it would mean a lot to me if y'were a part of this shoot. At least think about it?"

"I can do that," she compromised, seeing her best friend in front of her even if his words touched a separate part of her shoved into a box in the back of her mind, "I'll think about it, and let you know."

It was the way that his smile bloomed across his features, something bright unfurling in his eyes that (Y/N) was sure she already had her decision pocketed away.

—————

As Molly stood in front of the slew of models and talent sitting in wait for the day, Harry stood behind her as if to read the agenda in her hands even if all he really did was sweep his eyes towards (Y/N) standing at the end of the line.

"First up is the pink side of the campaign," Molly read off, presenting the information with a smile while others ran around behind her setting up for the double shoot that would be happening, "Nail techs will be coming around to make sure everyone has something on their nails—remember which group you're in so we get the correct colors on your nails. Hair and makeup will follow afterwards..."

There was more Molly was saying, the outline of the day being extra exhausting given there were two different aesthetics being achieved today, but Harry was much more focused on the extra model at the shoot.

Truly, he hadn't thought (Y/N) would accept. He knew it was much for her to be in front of a camera like this, seeing as his own need for privacy definitely had rubbed off on her, so he hadn't been surprised that she had lagged on her response for a week. It was when she had called asking about details of the shoot, wanting to know about the times and location, and just how long they would be needed on set, all followed up with a chirped I'll be there! that had surprised him. It wasn't until that call that he planned on being on set all day, having previously only meant to pop by for a few hours before leaving everyone to get the real work done without him being in the way. That was how he ended up here right at eight a.m., hair back in a pink flower clip (another accessory for the collection), and his eyes searching for (Y/N).

"Okay, everyone go pick a station and someone from hair and makeup will come help as soon as they can!" Molly dismissed everyone with a smile before turning on her heel and looking around for Harry Lambert.

Harry stood back with the sets coming together behind him as he watched the line of models scatter towards the lit up tables. There was only one that strayed behind, hands in a bundle at her waist with her wide eyes immediately fixing to him. He didn't hesitate before he stepped towards (Y/N), reaching out to her until his arm was slung over her shoulders.

"Y'alright?" he murmured to her, voice low compared to the bustle happening around the set.

"Yeah," she sighed, scanning her gaze along for the last open station, "It's just weird being on set like this when I'm not just here to watch. I don't want to mess anything up."

He shrugged his shoulders, his arm scrunching around her as he tipped his head. "You're probably going to, but 'm sure Molly or someone will be able to fix it."

It wasn't until she looked up at him with her mouth a gape and an accusatory light in her eyes that he broke with his laughter. His shrug became a comforting hug as he held her to his side. "'M kidding, lovie. You're going to be jus' fine—we're gonna take care of you, don't worry."

Harry pulled out the chair to the vanity for her, catching her reflection in the mirror. There was a part of him that, while he watched her, wanted to grab a camera and get his own shots for the campaign. There was nothing more romantic—in the Valentine's spirit—than the quiet moments with a partner; the moments that made it clear they were a team.

He was tugged out of his head when he heard her speak up. "Are you going to be hanging around for the shoot today then? Or are you going home soon?"

"I'll be here all day," he decided then, setting his hands on the back of her chair as they met eyes in the mirror.

Her gaze brightened, seemingly reflecting back the lights ringing the mirror. "Are you going to be in any of the pictures?"

It was the bubbling of her voice, the way she beamed at him that had his own lips curling into a small smile. "Maybe."

It wouldn't be hard to convince his team to let him sneak in a couple of shots. His nails were already done up anyway.

Before (Y/N) could say much more, one of the three nail techs flittered to her station. Familiar bottles of polish were tucked away in her apron, the pink bottles being placed out on the vanity as she offered (Y/N) a bright smile.

"Hi," she greeted, eyes landing on Harry for a split second before bouncing away just as quickly. "I'm Mari, I'll be doing your nails this morning. How are you?"

"I'm (Y/N). I'm doing good, thank you," she chirped, her voice decidedly higher and sweeter than when she had been speaking with Harry a moment before. He nudged her shoulder just a bit, a silent tease. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you for asking," Mari said, carefully looking at Harry through the fan of her lashes, "And you, Mr. Styles?"

"I'm good, thank you," he offered, his voice low with a pleasant smile given to Mari. He could spot the small ticks that gave away just how aware she was of him, he didn't want to make her any more nervous. "I appreciate your help today, Mari. I've seen some of your work, and 'm really excited to see what you can do for us."

Mari's tan cheeks heated with a small blush bubbling underneath, faint under her skin. "Of course. Thank you for the opportunity—really."

Harry's smile only spread wider when he felt (Y/N) nudge against his hand, her own quiet tease over his dazzling interaction.

Before she could fluster much more, with all of her supplies spread out on the vanity table, Mari concentrated on (Y/N) once more. "Do you remember which group you were in today, (Y/N)?"

"I'm actually in both groups today, but I think I'm a part of the pink shoot first," (Y/N) smiled, tilting her chin upwards to peek at Harry upside down, "Right?"

"Right," Harry affirmed. It was a lot he was putting on her plate, being in both sides of the campaign, he knew that. But, just as he had told her when he laid out the details, it meant a lot to him to see her in both aesthetics. She was the face of the collection in his mind, he couldn't imagine her not pictured in every iteration.

"Long day," Mari muttered, her features school back into a pleasant expression. She plucked her fingers through the bottles, skating over the set of pink varnishes first. "Do you have a preference for what color we use today?"

At this, (Y/N) looked to Harry once more. "Do you? I'm okay with any of them, but is there something you want me to have for the pictures, or anything?"

Instinctively, Harry looked to the creamy baby pink shade embedded with opal flecks. He nodded towards the bottle, "That one if that's alright."

"This one?" Mari clarified, picking up the bottle he had in mind.

"Yes, please," Harry smiled, looking towards (Y/N) with his raised brows to which she gave him a small giddy nod. "And some of the stickers if y'have them."

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips. He knew she would like that detail.

"Sounds perfect," Mari bleated, asking for one of (Y/N)'s hands before she started prepping for the manicure.

With her on hand free, (Y/N) reached for the opal polish to be painted over her fingers. "Do you mind if I look?"

"Go for it," Mari smiled, concentrating on the alcohol wipe she was swiping over (Y/N)'s nail beds.

Rolling the bottle around her hand, (Y/N) smiled up at Harry. "Is this the final bottle?"

"Mhm," he hummed, a sense of pride touching at the center of his chest, "We changed a couple of things from when I last showed you, but this is it."

He watched her admire the polish, tipping the bottle to and fro as she watched the color inside bubble and shift. The glitters shown in the light, going undetected until catching a ray and sparkling a vivid pink. When he saw her tilt the bottle to catch the name stickered to the bottom, he couldn't help the pulse his hands gave to the back of her chair.

Would she notice? Was the connecting line thick enough to spot?

Labeled on the bottom of the bottle was the word lovie printed in white ink on the black sticker.

"Hey," (Y/N) called, her voice lilting, "That's me!"

She pulled the bottle towards him, showing off the proof with a warming smile on her lips.

His lungs squeezed even as he tried to play it off, squinting at the bottle as if reading it for the first time. "It is, isn't it?"

"Did you do that on purpose?" she asked, alternating her hands once Mari gave a small tap to her wrist.

"Maybe," he murmured. Did he sound as breathless as he felt?

(Y/N)'s mouth pulled into a bubbly smile—just as bright and attention grabbing as the first time he met her. "Harry," she crooned his name, the syllables cradled on her tongue, "I didn't know you did that. It's so sweet."

There was a moment where he wondered if this was the moment. Was this the moment to share that of course he would name one of these shades after her, as this whole thing was an ode to his feelings for her. Was this warehouse being used as their set the perfect place to tell her what every single shade meant to him and how it was tied to her? It wouldn't be so bad, he thought.

Instead, Harry only bashfully shrugged, tipping his shy smile towards his feet. "'M happy y'like it."

Settling her hands for Mari to begin painting, (Y/N) still kept her attention tipped towards Harry. "Is that why you wanted me to be in the shoot?" she asked, leaning towards where he was still stationed behind her chair, "So, there's, like, platonic love in there too for Valentine's?"

Harry's lungs squeezed for a different reason this time. Platonic love between friends. That's why he named a polish after her in his most romantic collection to date.

"Something like that," he settled on, hoping she didn't catch the way his smile fell just a hair.

Though (Y/N) parted her lips to offer a response, she was cut off before she could take a breath. Harry Lambert was fluttering by the stations, keeping an eye on every model readying for the campaign before he met Harry.

"Sue, would you help me bring in all the clothing, please?" he asked, a tenor of stress entering his voice.

Breaking away from (Y/N)'s chair, Harry didn't hesitate before nodding his head. "Course. Where do y'need me?"

Vaguely, Harry Lambert pointed towards the set pieces before he shook his head. "Just follow me."

Absently, Harry tossed over his shoulder to (Y/N), "I'll be right back, lovie."

When he heard a small okay peep from her, he looked towards her only to see her already blinking at him with admiration in her eyes. No wonder he felt so warm.

—————

Harry was sure his dimples were deep in his cheeks as he leaned over Molly's shoulder, looking at the photos popping up on the computer screen as every shot was uploaded. Unsurprisingly, his favorites were of (Y/N).

Her makeup and hair was done minimally in true Pleasing style, leaving everything sheer and pastel. Her nails were glimmering in the light, dreamy filters to be added to the shots that would accentuate the glitter in the varnish. She looked entirely too cozy in the large pink crewneck clad on her torso and the comfy lounge shorts hugging her hips. Though there was still a stiffness as she transitioned between poses, as if waiting for someone to yell at her to fix her stance, he could see her growing more and more comfortable among the set. She made friends with a few of the other models, making it much easier for her to fit into those group shots and allow her laughter to filter through the room.

It made him feel an undeniable hint of pride seeing her grow so comfortable in front of the camera. He knew she never much preferred being in front of the camera like this, so every small breath of progress she made had his heart glowing for her.

Watching every shot come in over Molly's shoulder, Harry was almost disappointed when the photographer called for a cut; the lighting needed to be adjusted apparently with extra props being brought in before the focus would shift to the colorful end of the campaign. He stepped back, giving however many assistants were helping out all the space they needed to take care of every minute change.

As the models scattered, (Y/N) made a beeline back towards Harry, ushering out of the way as quickly as possible. With everyone distracted, he didn't hesitate before he draped his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug.

"How are y'feeling?" he asked, offering her a quiet smile, "Y'look like you're having fun."

(Y/N) leant into him, her cheek smushed against the blocked muscle of his chest. "I am, but I'm getting tired. I don't know how you do this all the time."

A breath of laughter left his lips at her mumbling. "'S surprisingly exhausting, isn't it? Being the center of attention really takes a lot out of a person."

"No wonder you can fall asleep anywhere," she mused, playing along, "Your life is so hard."

"I've been trying to tell you," he smiled, pulsing his arms around her when he realized just how hard she was leaning into him.

She'd been on her feet from the second she had her makeup and hair finished and there were still hours left of her day, even after lunch was served. As much as he was teasing, he was sure she truly was rather exhausted with this being her first time being more than a spectator on set.

A companionable silence settled between them, Harry not needing to peek to know that she'd had shuttered her eyes while he hugged her. From the corner of his eye, there was a familiar production assistant flittering around with the polaroid camera Harry Lambert had passed off earlier in the day, tasked with documenting the day for behind-the-scenes content. Like a sixth sense, Harry swore he could feel the lens focusing on him and (Y/N), but he didn't flinch back or turn to spot the assistant.

Instead, he stayed right where he was with (Y/N) in his arms even when the camera clicked and light flashed over the space.

—————

"I'll be done in, like, ten minutes, 'kay?" Harry murmured, dropping his bag by the station (Y/N) had claimed for the day, "Lambert said there were only a couple of totes left, so I won't take long."

"Okay," (Y/N) nodded, matching his eyes in the mirror as she pulled out makeup wipes, "I should be done by then."

Harry lingered behind her for a moment, eyes bright in the reflection, before he stepped away. (Y/N) felt her skin warm in his wake, heart fumbling in its beats before she settled in her chair. She made a point to fix her attention to the makeup wipe she was skimming over her skin, keeping her eyes forward instead of following after him.

The other models had cleared out as soon as the photographer had called for a wrap, leaving production behind to clean up and clear out for the night. Harry had, of course, volunteered to help clean as much as he could for the night causing (Y/N) to stay back with him. She had helped break down stations and pack props before finally retiring to the final standing station so she could get un-ready herself.

From her peripheral, (Y/N) spotted Molly bustling around, trusty clipboard in hand. Catching her eye in the mirror, Molly finally paused her constant rushing with her muscles visibly relaxing.

"I've barely been able to talk to you today," Molly said in greeting as she approached (Y/N)'s station, gifting a small hug with an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for helping out today."

"Of course," (Y/N) smiled, the bulbs around the mirror catching the shimmering stickers on her nails that only made her smile stretch wider. "Thank you for letting me be a part of the shoot. I had a lot of fun."

Molly shifted her weight and leant against (Y/N)’s chair, her features softened. "I could tell. Harry was so worried for you this morning," she shared, "He felt bad, like he had made you say yes when you didn't really want to do this."

Wiping the light mascara off her eyes, (Y/N) shrugged, "You know it's not really my thing, but he said this one was really important to him. I'm really happy I did it, though—the collection is gorgeous, you guys really did so well with this one."

"All of the ideas were H's, so I can't really take any credit for it. Lambert and I just put it all in production," Molly shared, fondness on her features. "We only told him we wanted to do a Valentine's inspired collection, and he already had all of these ideas. We weren't planning to do a dual release, but he'd had so many that he wanted to add that it turned into what we have now."

"He didn't tell me that," (Y/N) chirped, feeling herself begin to soften. She had known Harry had a large hand in the creative side of these collections, but she hadn't known that he had brought all of the ideas to the table for this one. "I don't know where he gets all of his inspiration between writing and everything with this. He never stops."

(Y/N)'s teasing comment prompted Molly to laugh along with her, both of them familiar with how hard Harry tended to push himself both creatively and physically.

"Like, you don't know," Molly said, amusement carrying over her words.

A pinch touched at (Y/N)'s brows, her hand slowing over her skin to leave her mascara as only smudges under her eyes. "What do you mean?"

It was Molly's turn to cant her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked at (Y/N)'s reflection. "I thought that was why you decided to finally be a part of the shoot. That Harry told you."

For a heartbeat, (Y/N) swore she was in some kind of movie scene. The theatrics of the moment seemed to be blown out of proportion, if only in her eyes.

"Told me about what?"

At this, Molly seemingly realized that she may have hinted at something (Y/N) hadn't known anything about. She pursed her lips as if she wanted to keep in her next words, but both of them knew she didn't have much of a choice now that she had started on this avenue.

"That it's you—the inspiration for the collection. He wasn't very good at hiding it before he finally just told Lambert. All of the shades have something to do with you."

(Y/N) was hyper aware of Molly's words, even if the sound of her heart pumping began to flood through her ears.

Strings began to connect throughout the last month since he initially showed her the samples of the polishes. The crew neck he claimed he made with her in mind. The dual collection having four different shades of her favorite color—a fact about her he knew without a doubt. The varnish named after the pet name he had dubbed her as throughout the years, something he had immediately tied to her when she had pointed it out just that morning.

Maybe it was the new information getting to her head, but more and more pieced itself together. That lingering look he gave her in the mirror just moments earlier felt like more evidence, including the way he held her between shots today, tiny moments that didn't feel out of the ordinary for him. Now those memories could be tinted in rose as moments that were only ordinary because it was between the two of them.

"Oh," (Y/N) simply sounded, dropping her eyes from Molly's with a flutter of her lashes.

A beat passed before Molly piped up with an apology in her tone. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I thought you knew, or I wouldn't have said anything."

"No, no, don't be sorry!" (Y/N) rushed, turning in her seat to match her eyes truly, "It's okay, I'm just surprised."

Casting her eyes around the dwindling room, Molly lowered her voice by the time she matched (Y/N)'s gaze once more. "Good surprise?"

Before (Y/N) could give an answer—one she wasn't even sure of—Harry joined their group, He reached towards his bag on the vanity, lookin at the two women with a question in his eyes. "Did you need a couple more minutes?" he asked, not-so-discreetly looking at the shadows left under (Y/N)'s eyes.

She could feel her stilted smile on her lips, but (Y/N) hoped Harry wouldn't notice. "Why? Did I miss something?"

Molly made a quiet getaway with a quick pat to Harry's shoulder, taking his attention for a moment as he gave a small way and murmured his goodbye. For a split second, Molly shot (Y/N) a sheepish glance before she was hustling through the space once more.

When Harry returned to (Y/N), his gaze was scrutinizing this time, a pinch to his brows as he ducked his head to be level with her.

"I don't think so, no," he said, answering her teasing remark. Reaching out, he gently dragged his fingertips over the soft skin of her under eye, picking up some of the smudgy mess on the pads of his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat at the touch, a stillness touching her muscles she hoped he wouldn't catch. He made a show of inspecting his hands with a comically deep frown on his lips. "Thought I saw something, but, no, y'got it all. Ready to go?"

Looking at her through the fan of his lashes, (Y/N) saw the teasing gleam to his eyes, though she swore there was something more floating in his irises.

Had that always been there?

"Um," she mumbled, dropping back into the moment, "Yeah, I'm ready."

The amusement in Harry's eyes faded at her stilted answer. Creases appeared between his eyes as he gazed at her, his bag loose in his hand. "Y'alright?"

"Yeah," she attempted to chirp, hopping out of her chair, "I think the day is just catching up to me and all. Just got really tired."

"Well, then," he started, standing to the full of his height before slinging an arm over her shoulder, "let's get y'home, lovie."

When he gave a small pulse to the cuff of her shoulder, his fingers denting the soft of her arm, (Y/N) tried to remember if it always felt that charged when he touched her.

—————

"Hey, you."

Harry held back a sigh when (Y/N) reached his open arms, burying his nose into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his middle. He settled instead for shuttering his eyes and sinking into her hold. It'd been a long week since he'd seen her last after taking her home after the Pleasing shoot; both he and (Y/N) seemed to be too busy to send more than a few texts to one another throughout the day. It wasn't a secret to him that (Y/N) was the brightest party of his day, but he hadn't realized just how good he had it until she had pulled back those days.

"How are you?" (Y/N) murmured, her voice muffled from the way her cheek was squished against his chest, "I feel like I've barely talked to you since last week."

"Me too," he said, drawing away just enough to see her face with his arms a warm loop around her, "I've been alright, though. You?"

Her eyes skated down his features long enough Harry swore he could feel her gaze like a touch from her hand. His skin warmed in her wake, a pinkened blush surely rising to the surface of his cheeks.

"I've been good," she finally answered, the heartbeat between his question and her response seeming hours long instead of mere seconds. "Just tired still. I feel like I haven't recovered from last weekend, yet."

"'M not surprised, y'worked hard." Harry dropped himself back into the moment, clearing his throat. "Molly emailed me some preliminary shots the other day."

Perking up in his arms, her eyes brightening. "She did? How did they look?"

A lopsided smile poked at the corner of his mouth. "I can show you, if y'want. Jus' need to grab m'laptop from m'room."

All it took was a giddy nod from her and a quiet yes, please! that had him untangling from her arms and heading towards his room.

As much as he wanted to stay right where he was in her arms, he needed a breath of air. Perhaps distance, no matter how small it was, really did make the heart grow fonder and Harry wasn't immune to the effects.

His paces were measured as he scaled his stairs to his bedroom, grabbing his laptop from where it was charging on the side of his bed. The email in question wasn't hard to find, especially since one of his favorite shots—the polaroid one production assistant had nabbed of he and (Y/N) snuggling during a break—was now his home screen on his phone. (And, one of (Y/N)'s official shots was now her contact photo).

Heading downstairs, he found her already making herself at home on his couch. With a blanket his mom had knitted for him thrown over her legs, she was scrolling through her phone despite the streaming service pulled up on his television.

"Comfy already, lovie?" he laughed, crossing from the landing to take his own spot next to her.

"A little," she answered, decidedly reserved in her teasing. That had been much of how it was this past week, (Y/N) too distracted, or tired, or whatever it was to play with him too much. He hoped it truly was nothing more than being a little tired.

Leaning in close, he settled his laptop on his thighs as he pulled up the attachments. Beginning to card through the photos, he offered a short explanation, "They're not edited completely yet, but we've got some of the effects added. We're still picking which shots are going to be used for the site and which will be used for the socials, but it all turned out really well."

Even as every picture lit up his screen, the pad of his finger on the touchpad, Harry favored watching (Y/N)'s reactions as opposed to looking at the shots themselves. He wanted to know if she loved it as much as he did.

The bright colors cast washes of pale color over her skin, shining like the moon at times with others giving a petal softness to the high points of her face. He could tell when a picture of her appeared with the way she rolled her lips between her teeth, a quiet bashfulness softening the edges of her features.

"Wait, wait, go back," (Y/N) asked, leaning forward as if to get a closer look at a missed photo.

Peeling his gaze away from her profile, Harry looked to his laptop to see the photo that had caught her attention was the same one that he favored. An artistically framed shot of their polaroid filled his screen, the nature of the camera already giving fuzzied edges to their forms, an extra set of dreamy editing adding that much more to the sight.

"Y'like this one?" he murmured, a delicate edge to his voice.

"When did they take this one?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper for only him to hear.

"During that break, remember? Lambert and Molly had an assistant going around to get production shots, and they caught us," he smiled, reliving that moment with her in his arms and the warmth of her form against his, "We're thinking about using this in one of the social shots."

(Y/N) was silent then, her eyes flitting over every pixel that made up the photo. He hadn't expected her to go so quiet.

"But, we don't have to use it if y'don't want to," Harry carefully offered, already rearranging the composition of the offered rollout to accommodate her if she was so uncomfortable. "I can talk to Mo—"

"No, no, that's not—" she started, stumbling some through her words when she managed to meet his eyes finally, "I just... Can I ask you something?"

The connotations of the phrase had Harry's heart fumbling and palms sweating right away. "'Course. What is it?"

Hesitating as she rolled her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) let his words hang between them for a few heartbeats too long.

"Molly told me something after the shoot," she started, her words careful and calculated, "I wanted to know if it was true."

He couldn't imagine what Molly would have shared that would have had (Y/N) so cryptic and unsure. "Okay," he offered, drawling over the word.

"She said..." (Y/N) paused, dropping her eyes from his until they landed on the hollow of his throat—a safe place to look when she was too afraid of his reaction. His palms became that much more clammy. "She said something about how this collection was about... me. That you told Harry that you had all these ideas because they were from me."

In the same moment that time attempted to stop, everything in Harry's body went into overdrive. Was it safe to feel his heartbeat in the base of his throat? Was it normal to want to suck in more air than his lungs needed?

What was he supposed to say to that?

More importantly: what answer did (Y/N) want to hear?

Would she be excited to hear that yes, everything Molly had told her was true and he just didn't know how to tell her himself. It was easier to manifest it all into cute little nail polishes and matching stickers. Or did she want him to say no, Molly's imagination had run a bit too wild, or she had heard him wrong, or, or, or—

"Yes," he suddenly blurted out, his mouth ahead of his brain.

(Y/N) blinked at him. Her eyes floated back to his, bewildered at his blunt answer. "Yes, it's true?"

The dam that was his filter had too big of a crack to be properly repaired, it appeared. There was no holding back the river.

"Yes," he affirmed, a weight in his chest pushing the words out before he could offer more thought, "The—um—the yellow one with the gold glitter, it matches the dress y'wore the first time y'came to one of m'shows. And, pink is your favorite color, so I wanted to make as many different ones as we could so you'd have as many as y'wanted to wear. I don't even know if y'have this lipstick anymore, but the red was to match the one y'were wearing when we met. A-All of them are for—about you."

By the time he managed to zip his lips, there was still plenty to be said but he figured the rambling was more than enough to both humiliate himself and put (Y/N) on the spot.

The longer she didn't say anything in response, the more Harry sweat. His thoughts were nothing but a swirl heading down a drain, too heavy and incoherent to make sense of.

"(Y/N), I—I didn't m—"

As quick as he opened his mouth like a guppy, fumbling over his words, he was silenced with (Y/N) pressing her kiss to his lips.

It was startling at first, taking every ribbon holding him together unraveled, turning him into a scramble. It was only when he felt a careful smile spread over her mouth and she drew away a hair that Harry came alive.

This was what he'd dreamt of, why was he wasting it?

Molding his lips to hers, Harry tasted the soft curve of her cupid's bow when he tucked his bottom lip between her two. Faint traces of a fruity chapstick remained on her mouth, though the only taste he got was her. There was no other way to describe the fragrance other than it being (Y/N). Every soft parting and letting of their mouths gave him a rush of that essence, pulling him in deeper and deeper each time.

The laptop on his thighs was a forgotten object as he turned his body to face her, the device sliding somewhere among the cushions of his couch. His hand landed carefully on the soft of her cheek, feeling a warmth blooming in her skin under his palm. He could feel every pacing of her muscles, feeling how her body moved for no other purpose than to kiss him. It brought a pinch to his brow, an unfurling happening in his chest he couldn't even begin to unpack right then.

While it wasn't an urgent, explicit kiss, Harry didn't want to pull away first. Hours could have been spent on his couch just like this, if not for the fact (Y/N) decided she needed air more than his kiss.

Following her cue, he gave her some space when she drew away. Her skin was warm as she blinked her eyes open to match his own. He watched as a smile spread over her lips the longer she looked at him.

"You like me?"

A peal of laughter fell from Harry's lips, bursting through his chest and filling his bones.

"Maybe. Why?"

(Y/N)'s laughter filled the one place his own happiness couldn't fill quite as well: his heart.

—————

Pleasing's Cupid Collection available now.

(Y/N) barely noticed the notification sliding down the top of her screen, seeing as she was already on the main page of the brand's website. Refreshing the site, the homepage completely rearranged to showcase the dual collection now available for patrons to browse, her own face flashing in the campaign video playing at the top of the page. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

Was this how Harry felt every time he released music? Or really anything for the world to see?

With the way her heart hammered in her chest, she wasn't sure how he survived things like this.

Another notification pinged at the top of her phone. Pleasing had just made a post on Instagram.

Tapping on the dropdown, she was taken from the Pleasing page and to her instagram app. The new post popped up automatically.

The shot showcased a collection of polaroid photos, some of behind the scenes shots of official photos for the campaign and others showing candid moments between the models and production during the making of the shoot. They were all laid out on a satiny pink sheet, a dreamy filter adding gleaming lights and iridescent shifts throughout the page.

There was one familiar polaroid that caught her eye—one that was barely within frame but something she had seen enough times she could spot with the barest of pixels. Just barely, she could see herself leaning against the chest of someone who was almost completely cut out of the frame, leaving only a set of arms to be seen wrapped around her shoulders with her eyes closed in contentment.

Just barely, through the haze of the filter, (Y/N) could see a small tattoo on her companion's hand: a black cross.

As if being summoned by her thoughts alone, those same arms draped themselves around her from where she stood in the middle of the kitchen. Harry's chin settled on her shoulder, looking at her screen as she pulled up the comments on the photos.

"What's everyone saying?" he murmured, his lips pressing against the column of her throat in a delicate kiss.

The smile that landed on her lips was tender and instinctual, something that settled there without her permission. She didn't have to truly read any of the commented reactions to know the public's opinion.

"They love it," she told him, voice a quiet croon.

"Yeah?" His smile was audible in his tone. "I think this one's gonna be the most popular yet."

"You think so?" (Y/N) questioned, swiping out of the reactions if only to see the glimpse of their polaroid once more.

Placing a gentle hand on her cheek, Harry tipped her chin to face him. There was a gleam in his eyes that (Y/N) never realized was so familiar until the first time they kissed. There was a small tug to the corner of his lips, a single dimple denting his cheek.

"Yeah. I've jus' got a feeling."

He dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers.

—————

:)))) thank you for reading, so sorry if there's any mistakes and if theres any questions or anything you have please please send them in! I hope you enjoyed :)

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finelinefae · 11 months ago

Text

the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.

word count: 8.5k

contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma

This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!

. . .

Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military. People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission.

“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft.

He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug.

“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own.

Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close. Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.

“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair.

“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead

“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother.

Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips.

Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.

“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.

“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.

George nodded, “Last time I heard.”

“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.

Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.

Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling.

“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot.

“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”

George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.”

Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery.

. . .

“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon.

“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job. She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.

“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”

Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet.

“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?”

Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply.

Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up.

As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.”

Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips.

Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life.

“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.”

“M her brother,” He corrected.

“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention.

“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding.

“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”

“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?”

“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.

“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.”

Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.

“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained.

“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?”

“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,”

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.”

Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.”

Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?”

She paused, “Any friends?”

“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said.

“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.”

“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-”

“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.”

Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”

“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing.

“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?”

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance.

“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle.

Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.

Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”

“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can believe that,” She yelled back.

“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.

Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.

Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.

On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base.

The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red.

Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.

“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”

“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette.

“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified.

“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked.

Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?”

“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.”

“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly.

“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.

“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen.

Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”

“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly.

“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”

“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.”

“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”

Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added.

“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.”

Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her.

“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”

“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.

“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished.

Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”

“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night.

Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.”

Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.

Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."

Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."

With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.

Keep away from Harry Styles.

. . .

The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers.

This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages.

Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit.

Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms.

Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new.

Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes.

Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light.

Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet.

He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in.

The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.”

“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky.

“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled.

“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms.

George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?”

Harry didn’t reply, instead asking, “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?”

George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?”

The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?”

George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”

Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”

“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.

“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”

Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.”

“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”

“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night.

“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement.

“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.

“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”

“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.” Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.

. . .

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to.

She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too.

Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails.

It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man.

Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him.

Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse.

Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist.

“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.

“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.

“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol.

“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N.

“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously.

“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself.

Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.

Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were.

“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined.

“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted.

Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better.

Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return.

“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”

“A few?” Patsy giggled.

“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre.

Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy.

“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them.

“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies.

Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”

“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.

Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”

Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances.

Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that.

The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”

“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman.

Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”

Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table.

“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.

“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table.

A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.

Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through.

He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.

“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke.

“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile.

A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted.

“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist.

“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be.

“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen.

“Hi,” Y/N blushed.

“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke.

“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified.

“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.” Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”

“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name.

“Harry, c’mere!” He called.

Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to.

“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”

“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.

“So you came?” He teased.

“I did.” She laughed, lightly.

“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk.

“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.

“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?”

"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer.

Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked.

“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.

He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?”

Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air.

She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances.

“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.

“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained.

“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”

“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.

“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of.

“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”

Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”

“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”

“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.

“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.

Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people.

The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely.

Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.

"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin.

As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.

"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.

"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background.

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.

"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.

"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.

"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.

"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.

"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.

“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground.

As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about.

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her.

"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.

Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.

"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.

"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.

Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.

Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.”

“I do want it,” Y/N nodded.

“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper.

“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous.

Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible.

In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss.

They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss.

“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.

“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper.

“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned.

“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.”

Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate.

“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress.

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.”

Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”

They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre.

“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.

Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.”

Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared.

She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms. As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.

Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.

A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.

I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33

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ayochae · 7 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐔𝐩| 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞

Synopsis: you damage the school bully's car, and now you have to repay her the way she likes.

Pairing: bully! aeri x student! fem reader

Genre: pretty rough smut ig

Themes: exhibitionism, biting, hair pulling, lots of cussing, name-calling, phone sex, fingering, cunnilingus, rough handling, and straight-up humiliation.

T/W: please read before continuing!! dubcon, heavy degrading, and bullying mentioned!

WC: 2.4k

a/n: the themes in this are on the darker side so please be aware before reading! disclaimer this is pure FICTION and not meant to be taken seriously! if you or anyone you know are in a similar situation please reach out and seek help (.づ◡﹏◡)づ. also if this is well received I might make a pt 2 to this :3

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

It was the end of the school day, and you were glad to be going home. You were sick of enduring long days of studying and listening to boring lectures, often forgetting to pay attention. You made your way out with the crowd, finding your bike chained exactly as you left it this morning. It was never fun having to ride home, especially in the summer when the humidity was an absolute killer, often leaving you hot and bothered.

You mounted your bike; it was a sunny afternoon, and the sun's rays were ricocheting off windows and car mirrors, blinding you at times. In an attempt to shield the light from your eyes, your arm was outstretched in front of your face. Consequently, it blocks the majority of your vision. Not the most favourable of conditions for someone riding through a crowded school car park. It would be the worst way to end your day if you were to crash right now.

And of course, as soon as that thought crosses your mind, it all comes to fruition.

In a split second, your ass meets the rugged concrete. That's the only indication you need to know you’ve just crashed. You struggle to find your footing, shaken up from the event that just occurred. Your eyes hesitantly glaze over your surroundings, seeing that your bike has managed to dent a student's parked car. One look at the licence plate, and your heart sank. You couldn't have hit anyone else's car; of course, you just had to hit Aeri Uchinaga’s.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” you yell out in pure frustration, both hands on top of your head. Your outburst garners some attention; students watch as you cuss to your heart's content.

"Yo, that’s Aeri’s car she’s just fucked up…” a group of boys said amongst themselves.

“I would think about running if I were you,” the boys laughed.

“Who should think about running?” A shiver ran down your spine. That voice was the one thing you didn’t want to hear right now. You turned around and locked eyes with the brunette, her menacing features staring your way. Aeri made her way towards you, anxiety pulsing through your veins and leaving your heart racing. She pushed past you like you were nothing, eyeing her car up and down, assessing the damage.

“Aeri I’m so sorry. Please give me a chance. I’ll pay you bac-” You started to get out an apology before she firmly shut you up.

“Shut up, bitch,” she cut you off, venom in her tone as she spoke. At this point, people started to crowd around, everyone here to watch you meet your demise. You knew exactly what happened to people who did wrong by Aeri, so let’s just say you were pretty confident you were going to die today.

“Do you know how much that car costs?” She questioned, arms crossed along her chest as she stared daggers in your direction.

“Um,” your voice wavered.

“More than you’d ever fucking know,” she cuts you off again, clearly not interested in anything you have to say. At this point, you accepted the fact that she was going to beat the ever-living shit out of you. But you were surprised when her fist didn’t meet your face; rather, it gripped your wrist with excessive force. She squeezed you tightly as she dragged you through the crowd. Students had their phones out to record as she pulled you through the swarm of bodies, dragging you back into the school’s main building. She wasted no time finding an empty classroom at the end of the hall, pushing you in, and slamming the door behind her.

"Strip,” she demanded as you stared at her, dumbfounded at her sudden request.

"Sorry, I’m not quite following...” you said, hoping that you must’ve misheard.

“Are you dumb?” her head cocked to the side, glaring at you.

“I can easily take you back out there and give the people what they want y/n” she added, walking towards you, feeling your breath hitch. You stood there, frozen in place, not knowing what to do. Your mind was racing with all the possibilities; there was no way you got out of this unscathed.

“I know you heard me slut, take your fucking clothes off” she spat, grabbing you firmly by the collar, pushing you hard against the desks behind you. Your body aching from the sudden contact, shaking you back to reality.

And so you complied, the only thing you were able to do at that moment. Shaky hands travel to your blouse buttons, slowly unbuttoning as Aeri watches. Your pace angered her, growling in frustration as both of her hands grabbed either side of your shirt, ripping it open. The sound of buttons dropping to the floor as a pair of lips connect roughly with yours. Her weight pressed against you as warm hands travelled up your sides, finding your breasts. You quickly pull away from the kiss. A whimper escapes your mouth as her hands squeeze your cladded breasts firmly, discarding your shirt to the floor in the process.

"Aeri, I have to get home” was the only thing you could let out as she continued to fondle you. Not letting your excuses slide, she grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, bending you over the desk. Your face meets the surface hard and fast, letting out a groan from the immediate pain.

“Keep talking, and this is going to get a lot harder for you, sweetheart” she leant over to whisper in your ear, the pet name causing you to moan ever so slightly. She quickly worked on your skirt, pulling it down so you were in nothing but your undergarments.

"Aeri please, we’re going to get caught,” you muttered, scared shitless to be found like this.

"Tch, you can’t even follow a simple rule; you really are a dumb slut, aren’t you?” She scoffs, feeling her harsh gaze in the back of your head.

“I think you're already forgetting that you owe me, y/n” she points out, her hands swiftly unclasping your bra as she speaks.

“So how about you be a good little slut and listen?” She mocks, tightly gripping you by the hair, pulling you up to face her. Your eyes meet hers, feeling the heartbeat in between your legs. A wave of pain hits your senses as her hand slaps your ass so hard that it's sure to leave a mark. You whimper at the contact, your hips jolting from the sudden force.

Her hands travel to your waistband, pulling your panties down to your ankles. She gets on her knees and rubs your wet folds from behind, coating her fingers with your slick. You moan from her touch, loving how it felt to have her play with your now-swollen cunt. Her slender fingers tease your entrance as you shake underneath her. Her hands grab your ass as she plunges her face into your pussy, eating you out from behind. Feeling her warm tongue roam along your folds, sucking and licking where she pleased. She planted long, warm stripes with her tongue, nudging your clit as she went. The repetitive action had you senselessly jutting your hips, begging for more friction.

“Does my little bitch like that?” Aeri hummed, her face still buried in your dripping cunt.

“Y-yes” you choked out, struggling to form your words amongst the pleasure. She continued teasing your clit, earning shaky moans from you in response. Giggling to herself when you got too loud. You could feel the knot form in the pit of your stomach, gripping the table in desperate support. You were getting close, letting profanities mindlessly slip from your mouth, feeling Aeri smile against your pussy in response.

And that’s when you felt her stop.

She pulled away, smiling as she licked her slick-covered lips. Wiping the excess on the back of her hand. You shudder from the loss of contact, missing the way her tongue felt.

“You thought I was gonna let you come that easily?” she teased, flipping you over so you would face her. She locked eyes with you and shook her head with a sarcastic pout on her lips. Trying to get a rise out of you. You knew she was an absolute bitch, but this just took it to a whole new level.

“Suck,” she said while holding the same fingers she pleasured you with in front of your mouth. Her other hand firmly gripped your jaw, inciting you to open your mouth for her. And so you obliged. You took her fingers, sucking on them eagerly, tasting yourself in the process. Hands wrapped gingerly around hers as you continued to make work of your tongue. Her eyes locked with yours, her mouth sporting a shit-eating grin.

“You like the way you taste, baby?” She cooed mockingly, an eyebrow raised as she watched you suck on her digits. She pulls her fingers out of your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva connecting your lips to her coated fingertips. Lustful eyes watch the lewd scene unfold in front of you.

She replaces her fingers with her lips, kissing you firmly again, giving you a complete taste of your release. Your arms are propping you up as she pushes her weight against yours, towering over you in the process. Her hand travelled back down between your thighs, rubbing your dripping cunt, teasing your entrance as she went. Her other hand gripped your inner thigh, keeping your legs open to allow her more room to work.

You pulled away from the kiss. A breathy moan left your lips as you felt two fingers inserted inside. Your mouth is now ajar from the sudden penetration. Amusement spread across her features as she began pumping her fingers in and out of you, watching you twitch and whine under her.

"F-fuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back, feeling waves of pleasure wash over you. Aeri took this opportunity to attack your neck, biting down hard on the soft flesh. Yelping as teeth dug into your neck, pain shooting down your shoulder as she sucked and bit persistently. Her fingers were still at work, filthy sounds filling the room as she fucked you with more force. Plunging her fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt, feeling you clench tight around her.

“That’s so fucking good,” you whine, feeling her smile as she continued leaving angry marks on your neck. Her thumb drew circles on your clit as she fucked you senseless. The desk banged against the wall as her fingers thrust in and out of your sopping pussy, the sounds sure to be heard by others. Your hips shamelessly buck at the tempo of her thrusts, getting closer and closer to your release.

Until the sound of a ringing phone brought you back down to reality.

You recognised that ringtone as your own, your eyes searching for the whereabouts of your device. Remembering that you left it in your skirt pocket, watching it vibrate on the floor beneath you. Without missing a beat, Aeri bends down and pulls it out with her unoccupied hand, the other still hard at work inside of you.

“Nawww mummy’s calling,” Aeri teased, your heart dropping as you watched her handle your phone.

“Aeri please don't answer that,” you beg, watching her thumb hover over the pick-up button. But of course, it was no use trying to persuade the likes of Aeri Uchinaga, because whatever she wants, she gets. And in this moment, she desperately wanted to ruin your life.

You helplessly watched her answer the call, immediately putting you on speaker for your mother to hear. Your mother didn’t care for greetings; rather, she demanded your whereabouts and why you weren’t home yet. Your heart raced; it simply wouldn’t do you any favours being truthful at this moment, honesty is sure to get you killed. Lies began to spill from your mouth, hoping it was enough to get her off your case, but Aeri was having none of that.

Her fingers managed to find a quicker pace, the desk hammering against the wall as she rocked you harder against her digits. Moans slipping out uncontrollably, your hand flying up in an attempt to muffle your sounds. Aeri glared in your direction, unimpressed with your endeavour to foil her plans. She placed the phone above you on the window sill, freeing her hand to trap both of yours, stopping you from muffling your sounds.

Her fingers curled, hitting that sweet spot, making you squeal in delight. Your mother was sure to hear everything. Your face was heating up, embarrassed but impossibly turned on at the same time. Unfortunately, your mother wasn’t stupid; she was very much aware of what you were doing right now, and she hated everything about it.

“Y/n get your ass home right this instance!” her voice echoed in anger. Aeri reached up, ending the phone call in one swift motion. You felt hot tears stream down your face, Aeri laughing at your current state, finding joy in breaking you like this.

“Fuck you,” you let out, hating how powerless you were in this moment. Aeri just continued pushing her fingers deeper inside you, hitting all the right spots as she went. You were unable to choke back the moans, letting the lewd sounds fall out in a flurry. She was fucking your brains out, all frustration and anger dissipated as she curled her fingers inside you. The moans became more frequent and higher-pitched, throwing all self-respect out the window as you whined her name.

"Mmffh, Aeri please…” you bit down on your lip, your eyebrows furrowed as you felt the knot begin to untie in the pit of your stomach. Her thumb pressing down on your clit and the final curl of her fingers were all you needed to start seeing stars. You shook violently as you came crashing down, her fingers moving inside you at a slow and steady pace, letting you ride it out.

She removes her hand from your dripping folds and shoves her fingers inside your mouth, swirling them as you taste your sweet release. Her dark eyes locked with yours, her shameless grin not once faltering. You made sure to suck her fingers clean, maintaining eye contact as you release her slender digits. Her hand travels to your jaw, tracing your lips as she eyes you up and down.

“Get on your knees and make that pretty mouth of yours useful.”

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