#he's adorable though and my new favourite

[padfootagain]

Love in verses (XXVI)

Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is one of my favourites, just… some adorable stuff!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4227

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Earl

In Sitka, because they are fond of them, People have named the seals. Every seal is named Earl because they are killed one after another by the orca, the killer whale; seal bodies tossed left and right into the air. “At least he didn’t get Earl,” someone says. And sure enough, after a time, that same friendly, bewhiskered face bobs to the surface. It’s Earl again. Well, how else are you to live except by denial, by some palatable fiction, some little song to sing while the inevitable, the black and white blindsiding fact, comes hurtling toward you out of the deep?

Louis Jenkins

The pain in your abdomen was a sensation you were used to, sadly. You recognized the pattern in the intensity, you knew it perfectly after years of suffering once a month. This month seemed to be particularly nasty though, and there was little doubt on to why. Your stress was so high these days, between your new job, your research, your career, and Frank’s bloody wedding… You were drowning, to be fair. Drowning in an ocean of emotions. You bent in front of your sink, waiting for the wave of pain to fade again, closing tightly your eyes, while the microwave beeped with the heating pad now reaching a burning temperature. You placed it on your stomach, not caring about your skin, only about the pain under it.

Damn… that was a bad month…

You stood straighter again, letting out a long and careful exhale, relaxing once more. Your head was spinning a little, but you didn’t dare to eat too much for now, your nausea was too bad and you didn’t want to end up throwing up. You settled for a bit of rice and an apple for lunch.

You were supposed to see Andrew this afternoon, but there was no way you could plan on fucking up Frank’s appointment at the tailor when it was hard to stand… At least, it was the weekend, you didn’t have to deal with work, and could spend your day being a burrito on your couch while watching TV and eating junk food.

You were supposed to shop for groceries in the morning, but you didn’t have the strength for that either, so you decided that you would get some food delivered for the rest of the weekend and would tackle the issue of not dying of starvation on Monday.

You sat down on your couch, at long last, heaving a sigh of relief. You held the heating pad against your stomach, covered yourself with a blanket and grabbed your phone while you turned on the TV.

You pressed on Andrew’s name on whatsapp while the tu-dum noise of Netflix echoed in your living room.

You heaved a sigh…

… you had forgotten tea… never mind, you were too much in pain and too tired to be bothered making some tea now that you were seated.

Back to your phone, you typed your message quickly.

Hi Andy! Sorry, but I’m not feeling well today, gonna have to cancel for this afternoon. We’ll talk about our plans next week. Hope you have a nice weekend, see you on Monday! Xx

You pressed ‘send’ and started browsing in the list of movies available on your TV screen.

Your phone lit up with Andrew’s name.

Sorry to hear that! Are you alright? Do you want me to drop you something?

You were too tired not to acknowledge the warmth that spread in your chest as you read his text.

Nothing to worry about, don’t worry.

His answer was quick to arrive.

Are you sure? You want me to drive you to a doctor or something?

You chuckled at his obvious worry. He really was too sweet…

No, I’m okay. Period being bitches, that’s all. I can handle it.

He answered with a thumbs up right under your text, right when you found Pride and Prejudice was on Netflix…

Well, it looked like your afternoon was all set.

You cursed under your breath. You didn’t have any snacks. Not even chocolate… and your kitchen was so fucking far… a whole ten steps away…

Damn you and your stupid brain.

You were surprised when you received another text from Andy.

So, what’s planned for today? Did you get your groceries this morning?

You snorted at the mere thought.

Nah. Too much in pain. Too tired to go to the kitchen and make myself tea, so imagine going outside with people?! No, thanks.

I’m gonna spend my afternoon with Mr. Darcy instead.

You waited for his answer, ignoring your TV now.

The Keira Kinghtley movie?

You sent him a thumbs up.

Will you hate me if I admit that I’ve never watched that film?

You almost dropped your phone.

YOU’VE NEVER SEEN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE?!

OH THAT’S IT! DISHONOUR! DISHONOUR ON YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!

He sent a laughing emoji.

You’ve forgotten the dishonour on me and my cow too…

You couldn’t refrain a laugh, even though it hurt your stomach.

You don’t have a cow. But I’ll take it out on Elwood.

You could picture the grin on his face at the joke.

HOW DARE YOU! HE’S SUCH A GOOD BOY!

Elwood, my son, don’t listen to the nasty lady…

You laughed again, but quickly stopped this time, the pain getting too strong.

You didn’t think as you wrote your next text.

You could drop by and watch it with me.

You reread the text and realised your mistake; your eyes grew round. You were in your old pyjamas, you hadn’t showered and had no intention to do so, your hair was a mess, you hadn’t washed your dishes…

You wanted to delete the text, but the blue symbols under it let you know that he had already read it.

Damn it!

I mean… I’m in pain, grumpy and look like trash…

So… maybe not the most pleasant way to spend your afternoon.

Feel free to refuse.

You waited for his answer, watched the dancing dots, until a text was received.

I’d love to, actually.

Besides, I am not five, I know about menstrual cycles, thank you very much…

You bit on your lips as you hesitated.

You’ve never seen me like that.

 A pause. You guessed that he had rephrased his text several times.

Would that make you feel uncomfortable?

You thought about it for a second. Frank didn’t really pay attention to that part of you. It was cliché, but you knew he was making a conscious effort to acknowledge your period and how much of a burden they were to you. You saw it as him making an effort at the time. Now, you were worried Andrew would be the same, with typical disappointing male behaviour…

And yet, you didn’t care. You couldn’t find a way to care. You couldn’t imagine Andrew, out of all people, disappointing you on that. Perhaps it was naïve, you weren’t sure. Your answer was earnest anyway.

No

His answer came in a matter of seconds.

Give me forty minutes to come over then.

You smiled.

An hour then.

You laughed again at his answer.

Gobshite…

You didn’t select the movie for now and merely watched some crappy TV instead, with whatever was on.

You tried not to pay too much thought on how excited you were at the idea of Andy coming soon…

Andrew ended up ringing at your door an hour and fifteen minutes later, proving you right about his time blindness, and the thought made you smile. You had washed your dishes waiting for him, using a fifteen-minutes break from the pain to stretch your legs and attempt to look like a human being. The pain was soon back with full strength though, and you gave up on the idea to change into a proper outfit. You remained in your comfortable pyjamas, tied your hair up to hide the mess it was, and went back to suffering on the couch, the heating pad growing colder and less effective, but you were too tired to get up again.

You groaned as Andrew rang at your door, forcing yourself to stand. You couldn’t hold yourself completely straight, not with the pain in your stomach being now combined with a sharp stinging sensation in your lower back. You opened the door still, and welcomed Andrew with a genuine smile.

He was wearing his hair in a bun today, his glasses perched on his nose, and a warm smile on his lips as his gaze rested upon you. He looked gorgeous in a simple brown jacket, dark jeans and a black turtleneck. You couldn’t refrain the way your heart fluttered at the sight, nor the butterflies that were added to your painful stomach.

“Hey! God, you do look like shite,” he exclaimed, but there was worry in his frown despite the obvious teasing in his voice.

“Thanks for the compliment,” you stuck your tongue out, and he couldn’t refrain a chuckle.

He walked inside, took off his shoes and jacket, and it’s only when he set the bags on the floor to do so that you noticed them.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Groceries.”

You looked up at him with a puzzled look.

“Jeez… if you were busy this afternoon, you should have declined!”

He laughed, and you were more puzzled than ever.

“These are for you,” he clarified, picking up the bags again.

You blinked up at him.

“For… me?”

“Yeah… you said you didn’t get any groceries this morning. Can’t let you starve! Come on, get a move on, these need to go in the fridge.”

You let him pass, followed him in your kitchen. He started to empty the two paper bags on your kitchen counter.

“I didn’t get you much, just enough to last for a couple of days. Pass the weekend. Nothing that needs fancy cooking either, don’t worry. Mostly pasta, rice, and a few vegetables and fruits. I also got some take out for tonight, so you don’t have to bother with cooking today. Chinese, hope you’re in the mood for that. And then, the obvious ice cream, crisps and chocolate combo. Oh, and I bought you this tea! My mom recommended it once for menstrual cramps to one of my cousins, and it’s apparently pretty nice, so… thought you could use that too.”

He looked up at you then, after his little babbling. He frowned at your expression though, and you noticed the shift in his demeanour: the way he shrank, bending over himself instead of standing straight, with his full height. Trying to look smaller than he was, to occupy as little space as possible. He rubbed nervously at his collarbone.

“I… I thought it would make things easier for you. I… I’m sorry if I’m overstepping… if you… sorry. Sorry…”

But he was interrupted by your arms around him; you almost tackled him with the strength, and you heard the loud huff he let out at the impact. It took him a couple of seconds to close his arms around you too, but then it felt like he was unwilling to ever let go.

“Thank you so much,” you mumbled into his chest. “That’s… so fucking sweet, Andy.”

“That’s nothing,” he tried to brush your thankfulness away, but you could hear in his voice that he was smiling again, feel that his body was relaxing once more. “I didn’t mean to overstep… I just… I just thought it would make it easier for you.”

You spotted your favourite chocolate on the table, along with some ice-cream.

“These are my favourite,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“You didn’t have to do that…”

“It’s nothing.”

You didn’t say it. You didn’t say that Frank had never done that for you. And Andrew did? When he wasn’t your boyfriend? When he didn’t even have feelings for you?

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, rubbing your back, and the caress was so soothing you were ready to cry. “Painkillers or something? I can go to the pharmacy…”

“I’ve got that covered, don’t worry. Thank you.”

“Right…”

Another cramp came breaking your embrace, you let out a groan as you held your painful stomach. You tried not to think of how your heart stumbled and missed a few beats when Andrew brushed a messy strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You really don’t look well. You should sit down.”

“I need to reheat my heating pad…”

“I’ll do it. I’ll do that, love. Sit down, okay?”

‘Love’… he had called you ‘love’… You wanted to cry…

Why were you so affected by it? It was Andy. It was Andy, not Frank, and you wanted Frank, you wanted Frank, you wanted…

He walked into the living room about 10 minutes later, carrying your heating pad under his arm, ice cream and some chocolate. He had to go back to the kitchen to fetch your two cups of tea.

“Alright… need anything else?”

You shook your head, and he settled on the sofa next to you. Readjusted the blanket so it would cover your feet. You didn’t recognise the flavour of the tea, you reckoned he had made a cup of the one his mother had recommended.

You refused to name the feeling that was spreading across your entire body, the unbearable fondness aimed at Andrew that came with it.

I want Frank, I want Frank, I want Frank…

“Alright, let’s watch Mr. Darcy getting rejected…” he grinned at you, as if he was at his happiest, as if he couldn’t have thought of a better way to spend his afternoon than to watch Pride and Prejudice with you while nursing you back to health because you were on your period…

You scoffed, trying to hide the tears in your eyes by looking for the movie on Netflix again.

“He doesn’t just get rejected. They do get together at the end, you know?”

“Thanks for spoiling it all to me…”

“Wait… you told me you read the book…”

He laughed.

“I did! I was joking, like… It was a joke. I did read it. I simply haven’t watched any adaptation.”

“Wow… Oh… so you haven’t seen the one with Colin Firth either?! The BBC series?”

“Nope…” he answered, popping the ‘p’ before taking a sip of his tea.

Two teabags. As always. The detail made you smile.

“Okay, that is going to be our next activity together.”

He laughed, but didn’t contradict you, on the contrary.

“Well, I guess my next Sunday is all booked…”

“Indeed, it is!” you grinned, but your tone was too soft not to show how emotional the thought of spending another afternoon like this with Andrew made you feel.

He didn’t comment on that, though, and you were grateful for it.

He reached for your coffee table, where he had put the two sets of ice-cream and spoons, and handed you one.

Your heating pad was back on your stomach, warm and effectively soothing your cramps. You seized the opportunity to eat a large spoonful of chocolate ice cream.

You moaned at the taste.

“Andy… this is perfect, I hope you’re aware of how amazing you are.”

He chuckled, but there was something a little sad in his eyes when he looked down at his food, a tinge of melancholy. You didn’t know why.

“Bribing you with chocolate is the way to your heart, then,” he joked, clearly stirring the conversation away from himself, while pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, starting the film.

You exchanged another smile, while the movie started. You didn’t realise your own movements as you scooted closer to him on the couch, and neither did he notice how he leaned towards you, until your arms were softly touching.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul. And I love… I love… I love you…”

You heaved a sigh after whispering the words in sync with Mr. Darcy, clutching at your heart, burying your face further in Andrew’s shoulder.

You weren’t sure when you had ended up in Andrew’s arms, but you were now. He had wrapped an arm around your shoulders at one point, noticing how livid you had become because of the pain, how you had tried to withhold your wince but failed. And it was meant as a temporary anchor, a soothing gesture that should have lasted just a few minutes, until the pain subsided again. But when you relaxed once more, he didn’t pull away, and instead of freeing yourself from his hold, you leaned closer, sank deeper into his embrace. And now, he was resting his long fingers on your waist, while you leaned into his chest.

Which was… better not think about boundaries and friendship and professional behaviour and all those limits you were breaking.

Meanwhile, Andrew was brushing a tear away, but you spotted it before he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

“I know… I know…” you patted his chest, trying not to notice that you were touching his chest. “I cry every time too.”

“For proof,” he chuckled, brushing your tear away with his thumb, making your heart stutter and expand to the point that you wondered how it hadn’t broken any of your ribs yet.

“It’s Jane Austen’s superpower, Andy… we can do nothing against it,” you concluded before nuzzling into his chest again.

“I’ll have to agree,” he nodded.

You noticed how his breathing was a little irregular for a moment, when you shifted to be a little more comfortable in his arms, but he didn’t push you away, didn’t move at all, in fact. Instead, he waited for you to settle again, readjusted the blanket on both of you, and stared at the end of the movie. His cheeks were turning a bright shade of red. You hated the thought that crossed your mind…

There were but a couple of minutes left, it was the end: Mr. Darcy had walked across the moor already, he had declared his love and Elizabeth had accepted his hand in marriage. They were waiting for Elizabeth’s father. You were staring at Andrew, the feeling of your gaze on him made him look down as well, catching your eyes with his. His hazel eyes, they looked so green now, in the rather bright light of the late afternoon, and the tears he had dried just before had enhanced that colour too. Green… like leaves bathed in sunlight during the summer… you loved that shade…

You didn’t even notice when the screen went dark, when the credits started rolling. You were thinking of Andrew, of how sweet he had been all afternoon, of how handsome he looked now, how much turtlenecks suited him, how cute he looked with his glasses…

He blinked a couple of times, as if he were coming back from a reverie, and looked at the TV again. You looked at his profile, found yourself longing to run your fingers through his short beard, noticed the red tainting the brown of his hair.

“Well, that was an amazing film,” he easily admitted, bringing you back to earth.

And indeed, the story was over. Mr. Bennett had accepted their union. Elizabeth would marry Mr. Darcy. All ended well. Black screen and a list of names, printed in white pixels…

You pushed yourself out of Andrew’s arms.

Back to reality now… and in the real world, you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank. You wanted Frank…

You looked away in a hurry, and trembled at the loss of contact, when Andrew finally moved his hand away from your waist.

You kept on talking about the film for a while, but eventually, Andrew checked the time.

“I should get going, let you get something to eat. And I mean… something proper. Not snacks,” he teased, standing up and taking the remnants of your various snacks with him to the kitchen.

And you had to tell yourself that mantra again. Because your heart was aching at the thought of Andrew leaving. Which was ridiculous because you would see him in two days. Which was ridiculous because he was only a friend. A colleague, even. And it was ridiculous because you didn’t want him, you wanted Frank. You loved Frank. You wanted the life you had with him back. You… you wanted Frank. You wanted Frank… You… You wanted…

“Andy?”

He reappeared, coming from the kitchen, and tilted his head a little as a silent invitation for you to speak again.

“Do… do you want to stay for dinner?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, long enough for you to start spiralling and babbling…

“Unless you need to take care of Elwood…”

“No, my parents took him to the seaside today, they’re keeping him for the night. He’s living his best life, trust me. I bet my dad is giving him all the treats he wants.”

“Or like… I mean… you’ve already spent your afternoon with me, even if I’m sick and not the best company today, and… yeah, I totally get it if you don’t want to stay, like… that’s…”

“Y/N.”

“Hmmm?”

“I’d love to stay.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I’m too much to take care of…

You merely shrugged in response, making him chuckle, clearly unaware of your thoughts.

“Well, if you’re not bored of me yet, I’d love to stay for dinner.”

You grinned.

“Grand…” you nodded, and Andrew disappeared in the kitchen again to prepare dinner.

Still, you noticed how he was smiling when he turned around, how he was blushing, too…

You ended up watching tv again after dinner. The pain wasn’t as vivid as it had been during the rest of the day, and so you were more comfortable during that part of the evening. So much so that you started dozing off, as you were watching for the nth time how Luke and Han were trying to save Leia.

You had stumbled upon a rerun of the old Star Wars movies, and settled on the nostalgic feeling of these stories to end the day. Andrew was supposed to go home after the end of the movie, once the Death Star was gone and Leia was placing medals on the heroes’ chest.

Andrew had made you laugh with his best impression of Chewbacca, and you had made him choke on his glass of water with one of your jokes and snarky remarks. It was lovely, but you were so tired you neared exhaustion by now. So, it was quite logical that you started dozing off after a while, losing tracks of the story when Han and Luke were dressed as stormtroopers.

You hadn’t noticed that your head had fallen on Andrew’s shoulder as you were falling asleep. You didn’t notice how he stopped paying attention to the movie when you did. How his heart started pounding at how adorable you looked like this. He waited for a few minutes, to see if you would stir and wake up again, but you didn’t. He stared at you for a moment longer, but you weren’t aware of it. You weren’t aware either of the longing in his gaze, of the smile on his lips as he watched how peaceful you looked in your sleep.

You blinked your eyes open again only when you felt something slipping under your knees and behind your back, felt the warmth upon which your head rested move.

“Andy?” you called in your drowsy state, still unable to understand what was happening, where you were…

“I’m here, love.”

That pet name again… were you dreaming it?

You reached up, held onto a soft fabric, and somehow, despite the fact that you had closed your eyes once more, you knew it was Andrew’s turtleneck.

“You’re falling asleep, you need to go to bed,” he said softly, his voice unbearably low and deep, it made your heart skip a few beats and warmth spread across your entire frame.

And it sounded so reassuring… so safe… He was so reassuring…

You nuzzled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. His cologne, his softener, him…

“Can I help you reach your bed? Can I do that? Is that okay?” he asked in the same caring voice, and you nodded. But then again, you would have accepted anything, for as long as you could remain in his warmth, as long as his voice came back…

You realised then that he was slipping his arms under you, it took a moment longer for your brain to register he meant to carry you.

“I can walk,” you whispered, opening your eyes again and forcing yourself to look at him.

You were too stunned when he bent down to kiss your hair to argue when he told you there was no need, that he got you, that you could close your eyes again. You obeyed, having no strength left to argue, and you wrapped your arms around his neck when he stood up and lifted you off the couch.

He readjusted your position, and then you were vaguely aware of moving, while he walked through your apartment. You nuzzled closer, your forehead brushing his jaw and your entire body trembled as you felt his beard against your skin.

Too soon, he was gently putting you down on your comfortable mattress, tucking you in, under your warm blanket.

You blinked your eyes open before he could leave, found his hazel eyes looking down at you. He seemed so tall like this, standing above your bed.

“Thank you, Andy. For everything.”

He smiled, gesture gentle and full of fondness.

“Sleep well, Y/N. Goodnight.”

He tucked a strand of your hair away from your face, and the brush of his fingers across your cheek made you close your eyes for good.

Your last thoughts were of him, while you heard him move away from the bed, recognized the creaking of the tiles by the door of your bedroom.

God, you wanted him so much…

[lostsyren]

Could you do.....maybe Sofia canceling a date with Rafe because her paycheck got delayed, and she feels to embarressed to go on dates in the same clothes and had plan to buy new things. She tells him that she is sick, but then he sees her at a bonfire party. He feels heartbroken thinking she lied because she is tired of him while he is head over heels, he walks off, she runs after.....ANGGSTTT <3

˚⊱🪷⊰˚ date night

{a/n: sorry for taking so long to get to my requests but I hope it was worth the wait!!}

{summary: sofia can’t make it to date night, and rafe’s not happy about it…}

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

“You really like that dress don’t you?” Ruthie said with a slimy smirk across her face.

Those words echoed through Sofia’s mind as she stared at her closet trying to figure out what to wear with her date with Rafe.

She hadn’t even thought twice about the clothes she wore in front of Rafe and his friends before– having enough confidence in her sense of style. Sofia had carefully curated a wardrobe from lucky thrift store finds and the occasional designer splurge when she had some of her pay check left over.

So when Ruthie had teasingly poked fun at her favourite dress (a satiny, floral slip that she adored), her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“It’s so cute though, if you like that sorta thing, I can understand why you wear it so much,” Ruthie had continued, hiding her bitchy words under a guise of tooth-aching sweetness.

She hadn’t thought about it again until Rafe had asked her to come out to dinner with him a couple nights later. Sofia enthusiastically accepted– it was only when she got home to get ready, seeing her limited selection of clothes, did the stirring regret begin to overwhelm her senses and Ruthie’s words begin to engulf her brain.

She still had time to go out and buy something new, something Rafe would like (and something that would shut Ruthie up), but when she checked her account balance, she realised she didn’t have enough. After the bills for her siblings tuition and the chunk of her wage she’d spent helping her parents fix the car, she was left with nothing. And she wasn’t getting paid again till a couple weeks.

Sofia huffed exasperatedly, sinking into her bed. She hated feeling like this…feeling inferior. What if Rafe through the same thing? That he was taking her to all these flashy places, driving her around in his shiny car and she couldn’t even dress up a bit for it?

With a sinking heart, Sofia grabbed her phone to call him.

It went through instantly.

“Hey baby, everything ok?” He asked, his voice eliciting somersaults in her stomach.

“Hi Rafe, I just…I don’t think I can do dinner tonight, I’ve got this horrible headache and I think I’m just gonna go to sleep,” she fibbed, biting her lip.

“We don’t have to go out, I can pick you you up and we can just chill at mine– order from that place you like?”

Sofia didn’t like lying to him, it almost physically pained her, gnawing at her bottom lip and playing with the dead skins around her thumb. “I think I just needs some rest.”

“Ok then, get well soon yeah? And text me if you need anything alright? Goodnight Sof,” he said, disappointment toning his words.

“Night Rafe.”

She ended the call quickly, burning hot with guilt– she hated lying. Especially to her boyfriend of all people.

And now she had nothing to do for the rest of the night all because she was too embarrassed to wear the same thing twice…it was honestly so stupid. Sofia huffed and turned around in her bed.

As if sensing her impending boredom, her phone buzzed with a text from her friend, talking about a bonfire party at the Boneyard.

Sofia smiled too herself, slipping on her worn trainers and getting ready to head to the beach.

She didn’t have to worry about what to wear there.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

Rafe, along with Topper, Kelce and Ruthie drove down to the Boneyard. He wasn’t supposed to tag along, but with Sofia cancelling their plans, he had nothing better to do.

As they rolled down the rocky beach in Topper’s jeep, Rafe pulled out his phone, sending Sofia a quick text.

R: Hope that headache goes away soon then maybe we can reschedule? :)

Rafe was surprised at how disappointed he felt after she said she couldn’t make it. All he could think about sitting in the back of the car, watching the Stygian waves roll onto the coast, was how much he’d rather be with her right now.

“Yo Rafe, I thought you were busy tonight?” Kelce pestered with a smirk.

Topper chuckled lowly, “oh yeah, wasn’t it date night tonight? What happened to that?”

“She wasn’t feeling too good so now I’m stuck with you idiots.” He muttered.

“Oh come on, you’ll see her again the club. I’ll make sure to ask for doubles so she’ll come by our table twice, yeah?” Ruthie goaded, twisting her body around so she could see him.

Rafe brewed with a dull anger– he always thought Ruthie was a bitch.

“Two drinks Ruthie? You sure about that? Aren’t you a lightweight?” He scoffed.

“Hey hey hey, let’s have fun tonight yeah?” Topper mediated, parking up the jeep next to the arsenal of vehicles.

The four of them hopped out, heading to the kegger, quickly getting pulled in by their kook friends, enveloped in the heady flow of gossip and conversation. Rafe just stood quietly, sipping at his third cup, enjoying the warmth of the fire on his face and salt of the air on his tongue.

His vision strayed over to the other side of the beach, where all the pogues had congregated. And that’s when he saw her. Dressed in her favourite shorts and sunset coloured hoodie– she looked gorgeous bathed in the glow of the bonfire.

Rafe felt his heart sink into the cavern of his ribcage. She lied to him.

Settling his solo cup down on to the kegger, he pulled out his phone and rang her number, watching her like a predator eyes its prey, his dilated pupils honed on to her unassuming figure.

She excused herself from her friends, walking off to a quieter area before she answered his call.

“Hey baby,” she cooed with a smile, Rafe seething in silence as he watched.

“How you feeling? Still got that headache?” He asked bluntly, his molars grinding down on each other.

“Yeah- yes, still hurts.” She said. Rafe saw her eyebrows furrow as she bit her lip furtively.

“You at home? It sounds kinda loud over the phone?”

“Yeah my siblings have the TV on,” she blatantly lied. Rafe breathed in deeply through his nose.

“Oh so you’re not at the bonfire at the boneyard?”

Rafe watched her face drop, her gaze darting around the beach as she stayed silent on the phone. She locked eyes with him from across the sand, her mouth parting slightly, lips forming a little ‘o’ shape, something that he usually found cute, but now it just irked him.

“Rafe,” she said, voice bordering a whisper.

“You fucking liar,” he hissed, before ending the call, and heading over to the cars, ready to call an Uber for himself and head home.

He tried to regulate his lurching breaths, anger beginning to flow hot through his veins, but it was hard to do when a heart rending sadness slammed into his nervous system, catching him off guard.

Sofia? A liar? No. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t like everyone else.

His fingers struggled to order an Uber, shaking with the aftershock at seeing her deceive him with such disregard.

“Rafe! Wait please I can explain.” He whipped his head back to see Sofia approach him.

“Stop it Sofia, explain what? Huh? How you lied to me?”

A pang of regret reverberated through him when he saw her glassy, tear filled eyes, her quivering lip. Was he being too harsh? No. She was the one who was in the wrong– not him.

“I’m sorry, I just, it’s ugh it’s going to sound so stupid Rafe, but I promise I didn’t mean to hurt or lie to you.”

“What’s going to sound so stupid? Why you made an excuse to get out of being with me? You hate me that bad huh?”

“No no! Of course not. Look, Ruthie said something the other day…” she began, her cheeks red and tear stained.

“Ruthie? What the fuck does she have to do with this?” He yelled. They were on the outskirts of the party, away from the crowds and crackle of firewood.

“She was making fun of how I wear the same thing all the time, you know? And it made me get self conscious…and tonight when I was getting ready, I just got in my own head, thought you would want me dress up more, not just wear the same things every time.”

Rafe’s face contorted in confusion. She couldn’t be serious right now?

“And I can’t just buy a new dress like that, I have bills to pay and stuff so I was just feeling sorry for myself and lied because of my own stupid feelings.” Sofia’s lips began to quiver, another bout of tears quickly approaching, before she shrouded her face with her hands, muffling her soft cries.

“Sof…” he said, tone gentle and kind, feeling like shit for shouting at her. He should’ve know Sofia had a reason for lying and he should’ve know Ruthie had something to do with it.

“Ugh it was so stupid, and I feel like an idiot.” She laughed mirthlessly, as he pulled her into a hug, letting her cry against his chest.

“Baby, you know I don’t care right?”

“Yeah I know. I care though.” She mumbled against his warm embrace.

“Come on, let’s get out of here yeah?”

“Yeah, ok. I’m sorry again, I feel terrible.”

Rafe slung an easy arm around her shoulder, leading her up to road where their taxi was going to meet them, “well don’t, otherwise I’ll feel like shit for shouting at you.”

“Fine. Truce?”

Rafe chuckled softly, looking down at her with a soft smile, as she gazed up at him with her glossy eyes.

“Yeah, truce.”

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

A couple days later, after Sofia had slept over at his place, she woke up to the birds singing on Figure 8, a sound lost amidst the cacophony of building work and barking dogs on the Cut. She sighed contentedly, turning around in the sumptuous sheets ready to nestle up against Rafe, to find the bed empty. She hummed in dismay, forgetting it was Sunday, the day he needed to go down to the office.

Eventually, after letting her eyes flutter shut for a couple more blissful minutes, Sofia rolled out of bed, slipping on Rafe’s shirt, a habit she was getting increasingly used to.

She pattered across the hard wood floors ready to get into the shower, before her eyes snagged on something resting on the drawers. It was a cream coloured bag, one from those fancy stores in Kildare Town Centre, the straps made of black silk.

On it was a sticky note, Rafe’s familiar scratchy writing scrawled across the paper.

Now you don’t have an excuse to miss dinner with me :)

Sofia’s eyebrows quirked up in curiosity as she read the cryptic note, rifling into the bag.

Inside was maybe a dozen items of clothes, from satin dresses to cashmere shirts, all in shades of her favourite colours– blooming pinks, soft oranges, cherry reds. She adored every single one.

Her heart soared with excitement and warmth, her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush. Rafe could sometimes be so sweet it left her weak-kneed and gooey, her insides alight with joy.

A creeping sensation of guilt arose– these must’ve been expensive. Sofia noticed he’d removed all the tags off them, probably anticipating her qualms about the price. But she put it aside, ready to first try them on. She’d pay him back, she told herself, running her hands over the silken fabric.

Carefully unpacking each item, she laid them out on the bed, until her fingers skimmed the final one.

Pulling it out, she rolled her eyes with a small smile when she saw the two piece lingerie set Rafe had nestled at the bottom, comprised of black lace and gossamer.

Sofia laughed softly, as she put the piece along with the rest of her gifts– maybe she already had a way to pay him back, one that was much more fun than working double shifts at the club.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐯𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐜𝐤. '𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞' . 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥! 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 '𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫' 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈? 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧. 𝐀𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯 𝐢 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬??

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐣𝐨𝐲 (𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 ��𝐞)

(𝐈𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮ᯓᡣ𐭩)

Hello there, Joy darling! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) You always make me smile with your messages! And yes, prompt seventy-three is absolutely one of my favorites—And I think I just wrote one of my favourite fics ever! (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)

Oh, and my birthday is July 27! What about you?

Love you tons, Joy! (っ˘ω˘ς )

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ REMUS LUPIN #73: "Are you flirting with me?" "Depends. Is it working?"

Remus Lupin was in agony. Not the type of agony he was accustomed to, like the pains of a full moon or the usual pressure of acing his exams. This was a new, entirely different agony: figuring out how to flirt with you.

It had all started when he confessed his crush on you to Sirius, James, and Peter, which led to an onslaught of unhelpful advice. Sirius was convinced that pickup lines were the way to go, James insisted that light teasing would do the trick, and Peter’s advice was to "just be yourself." Remus found himself highly skeptical of Peter’s guidance, mumbling, “Just be myself? What kind of garbage advice is that?”

So, there he was, awkwardly lurking around the corner where he knew you would be coming down the hall soon. He had decided to try Sirius’ suggestion, even though his heart pounded like it was threatening to escape his chest. He kept mentally repeating, You’ve got this. You’re smooth. You’re cool. You can do this. But his palms were already clammy, and he wasn’t even facing you yet.

When you finally walked around the corner, Remus’ plan went immediately downhill. He tried to lean against the wall casually but instead slipped a bit and had to grab at his glasses to keep them from sliding off. But it was too late — his glasses were now adorably crooked, and he was slightly off-balance. He barely managed to pull himself together, clearing his throat to deliver what he thought would be a confident line.

“Uh… are you from, uh, from heaven?” he stammered. "Because you, um, you—well, you don’t look like you’ve fallen, but, er, maybe like you tripped into my heart?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your laughter. He was so obviously nervous, yet so endearingly genuine, that you couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face.

"Remus," you chuckled, leaning in just a little, "are you flirting with me?"

Remus’ face turned an impressive shade of red, and he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting around as if searching for an escape route. He adjusted his crooked glasses, looking like he was about to combust from embarrassment. Finally, he gave you a lopsided, slightly panicked smile, mumbling, “Depends… Is it working?”

At that, you couldn’t hold back your laughter, and the sound made Remus feel like he might actually survive this mortifying encounter. Your laughter was sweet, genuine, and somehow managed to make him feel as if he’d accomplished something.

“Honestly?” you grinned, giving him a playful nudge. “It’s the most charming thing I’ve seen all day.”

Remus’ face lit up with a shy, delighted smile, and he gave a soft laugh, finally relaxing a little. “So… no more pickup lines, then?”

“Maybe just stick with being yourself,” you teased, making his heart skip a beat as you walked off, leaving him with a dreamy grin and the distinct realization that, maybe, Peter’s advice wasn’t so garbage after all.

[gilded-sunrays]

Hello 👋🏻 um.. I wanted to say I really like your writing style and I hope you doing well.😊 I'm quite new here, and I'm rather shy with communicating with people... I wanted to know are you accepting requests ?

If so I would you mind if I asking of scenario of yoriichi with a extremely kind hearted and affectionate fem/reader from his childhood, Who just like to care for those around her giving gifts and try to somehow make them happy.

I want to know how would he react around her? How would he confess to her? You could also make it a short headcanon I don't want to trouble you.

Oh I'm sorry if I talked already too much!!! you don't even have to answer me if you don't want to. Just Thanks for reading my nonsenses😅. I hope you have a good day and I wish for you and everyone a happy life and 😄 take care👋🏻🙏���

¡! ❞Confession.ᐟ

|| Pairings: Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi × Reader || 𖤐 Masterlist

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi had always sensed a special bond with you. In a world where his own family had turned their backs on him, your presence was the only one that felt welcoming. 

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi admired your kindness and gentle spirit, how you would go out of your way to assist strangers, share your groceries with neighbours, and do those small, thoughtful things just to bring a smile to others faces. 

▪︎And although he may not have felt worthy of all your selfless kindness, he made every effort to reciprocate it. Whether it was cooking your favourite meals when you got back, assisting you with chores, or simply tending to you a massage.. and whatnot

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi just adored the moments spent with you, with the adorable little creatures that just seemed to gravitate towards him. You two would take some food along to feed them—bunnies, squirrels, little birds, and whatnot. With him around, they even felt calm around you.  

▪︎Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi was a man of few words, often wearing a calm expression when in company, yet he became surprisingly chatty when it was just the two of you.

▪︎While Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi still remained mostly quiet, his attentive listening made it clear that he cherished every word you shared. His face was usually stoic, with only a hint of smile passing through, but you had gotten used to reading his expressions.  

▪︎As time went on, you both had matured and grown into adults. Living together and managing a home as literal children had made you two an unstoppable team.  

▪︎Having each other by your sides, there was no task that seemed impossible—taxes (did he even pay taxes living high up in the middle of nowhere though..?) cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, or budgeting. Over the years, it all became second nature for the two of you. 

▪︎As this bond grew, so did Childhoodfriend!Yoriichi's feelings for you. In his eyes, you were flawless, like an angel—a light that simply kept him from withering away in his life. 

—And you were the light that he vowed to protect for many years to come

"Y/n.." he began softly, as you both sat by the pond where your paths first crossed.

 "My soul has traversed far and wide to find yours.. In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours."

 He continued, lost in memories of you as he reminisced about your beautiful smile and your pleasant aura..

 "..and In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.." 

As he took his rough hand and gently cupped your cheek, leaning in closer, his breath brushed against your skin as he whispered— 

"I love you.. y/n"

|| A/N: Tysm for requesting <33, I sincerely hope you enjoy it! And nah, its not nonsense, infact-- my inbox is pretty much always open for anything, so feel free to send in whatever..lol!

[vole-mon-amour]

2x02, part 2.

the way Sevika is STILL loyal to Silco, even though he's dead and she doesn't have to. i saw some spoilers, but I'll say this as if I haven't: the way she doesn't like Jinx, never did, but tried to help Silco understand Jinx being upset and how she'll get around. she's loyal to Silco, therefore she's loyal to Jinx.

gosh, I love Sevika. she truly is trying her best to fill Silco's place. she was his loyal guard dog for a damn good reason.

her expressions!! let's go, Sevika, let's go. the animation is so good. it's so subtle, so smooth, you gotta pay attention to the frames.

there's something so special about both Sevika and Jinx still hanging out at Silco's office, and both Sevika and Jinx talking to Silco. i'm pretty sure Sevika didn't know that Jinx is there, so she spoke out loud, but she knew where to aim WITHOUT HURTING JINX (!!) because Jinx hang up there often enough for Sevika to remember.

listen, I have 4 favourite characters in this series and that always was the case: Silco, Jinx, Sevika, VIktor. i love them with all my heart. Sevika was always such a great character & she deserves way more love.

poetic cinema.

just shows how truly important he was, what a strong grip he had on Zaun.

i like how when Sevika throws a piece of furtinure in her outburst, Jinx doesn't even BLINK, not to mention flinch. the way they are connected to Silco and how well they truly fit (for the lack of a better word) him.

the little scowl. babygirl, i love you so much.

baby girl. baby. this is such a cool little representation of how their process looks before they draw frame by frame/animate the thing to look smooth.

i hope Jinx kicks their asses. the fact that she's coughing but she can STILL breathe in this, just like Silco did when others couldn't. take off your masks, assholes, let's see how you can handle this gas.

honestly, Vi, this is such a dirty move. you never wanted to accept that Powder was always Jinx and Jinx was always Powder. Silco loved Jinx. you? maybe, in your own way, but maybe, mostly, the idea of your little sister? because Silco would NEVER do this. he accepted Jinx for who she always was and is. if he didn't, he wouldn't allow her all those things that got him in trouble and never wouldn't give her all the materials and all the playground that she wanted.

the coughing, crying, screaming fit. i'm so :_; for her.

"Baby Blue. Right through their fingers. You must be part eel."

And you must be a whole piece of shit, beating Jinx with such hatred for all those years you couldn't bring hard to her because of Silco.

i just want to hug her and hold her tight. she's the best girl ever.

LET'S GO, THE TWO CLOSEST PEOPLE TO SILCO EVER. LET'S GOOO.

i LOVE that Sevika tried to use Jinx's gun, but Junx fixed Sevika's arm, so they exchanged the weapons. Sevika managed not to only throw Jinx her gun, but managed to catch the arm. i also love that Jinx can shoot that gun without even looking. this is a symbiotic relationship that i currently ADORE.

i'm in love with this. <3

this is adorable and made me smile so much.

the smirk. the music. the babiest baby of all babies (the baddest bitches ever).

i'm pretty sure Sevika will hate the adjustments that Jinx made to her arm but hey. it's a free fix :D it's almost 2 am and here i am, smiling. i love this show so much. i didn't know i could have so much fun with it without Silco. it's a new vibe completely.

this is BADASS.

there are SO many expressions in this little scene, i couldn't possibly fit it into this post. yeah, i'm completely in love with this so far.

babygirl, please, i am begging you, destroy Vi. Silco aka her family is gone, Vi is being an asshole to her, so she's ready, more or less. let's fucking GO.

love seeing Jinx and Sevika communicating. love the "you've got that look in your eye again, what are you planning?" which simply shows you how well she knows Jinx.

also,

"i haven't asked you for this" "it was something I could fix."

aka it was no trouble for her. she loves the mechanical stuff. she does it with ease. Sevika's strong side is the brains and brutal force, so they work well together.

[siriusist]

Lord Stirling is literally the truest example of simply "Enjoying someone else's company and feeling at peace" being the type of love that never gets talked about and the love I personally strive for over "fireworks" love

[fastandcarlos]

"Uncle Charles?" : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: for the first time charles feels as if he's part of your family, all thanks to your car obsessed niece

Your hand waved into the air as you noticed Charles appear in your parents’ garden, dressed still in bright red Ferrari after finishing for the day. There were children running around everywhere as you celebrated your niece’s birthday, with Charles appearing at the end of the day. 

Despite you assuring Charles that he didn’t need to worry about attending, he was adamant he was going to make the time. When he appeared, your family were more than surprised, knowing just how busy Charles had been as the start of the new season loomed. 

As Charles made his way over to you though, he was intercepted by a voice calling out his name, a figure running across and leaping up into his arms. Charles stumbled back as your niece leapt up and gave him a hug, her arms going tightly around his neck as Charles held onto her waist, carrying her over to where you sat. 

“Happy birthday cherie,” Charles grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You look like you’re having a good time,” he added, taking a look around the garden. 

“I was waiting for you to arrive,” she excitedly told him. 

As Charles sat down beside you, he placed your niece back onto the ground, but she refused to let him go. With her still holding on, he leant across and pressed a kiss to your cheek to try and greet you, but your niece was having none of it. 

“Did training go well?” You asked, unable to hold back your laughter as your niece invited herself to sit up in Charles’ lap, ignoring her friends who were calling for her to play with them. 

The bond that Charles had with your niece had always been close ever since they first met. He was beyond amazing with her, which your sister was particularly a big fan of, finding herself getting giddy whenever Charles was around, never quite being able to leave him alone for too long. 

“Yeah, for once, it actually went pretty well,” Charles smiled, his voice filled with relief after what could only be described as a tricky build into the preseason preparations. 

As he sat with your family though, he was reminded about what was important. As much as he wanted the car to do well, what mattered the most was the people around him, particularly the little one in his lap who was over the moon to be able to spend her birthday with him. 

“I’m happy that you managed to make it here though,” you told him, keeping your eyes on your niece, “and I think I know someone else who is pretty happy to have you here too.” 

If he was honest, Charles wouldn’t have missed it for the world, although your niece wasn’t on his side of the family, he still absolutely adored her. He wasn’t blind to how close they were too, knowing that she was counting on him to show up for her. 

“What’s been the highlight of your day princess?” Charles asked as your niece shifted to look up at him, her hands cupping against his cheeks. “There’s got to be one present that you can’t wait to show me later on tonight.” 

Her head nodded, turning round to face Charles properly again. “My favourite present is your present that you bought me,” she proudly told him, recalling the Ferrari car that you’d bought her, well, a child sized one at least. 

Charles’ smile turned up as she spoke, “I had a feeling that you’d like it. Maybe I can try and get some Ferrari clothes for you so that you can look the part too.” 

Your niece nodded instantly, “I want to be just like Uncle Charles, that would be awesome.” 

Your eyes flickered across to Charles, making sure that he was listening to. A gasp came from him, his eyes lighting up as he took a moment to make sure that he wasn’t just dreaming what he had heard. 

“Want to be like who?” Charles asked her, wanting to hear it one more time to make sure that he was correct. “Who is it that you want to be the same as?” 

“Uncle Charles,” she giggled, “I want to be able to drive really fast when I’m older and drive all of the cool cars.” 

“Uncle Charles,” Charles whispered to himself, “well, that’s pretty cool.” 

You reached across and pressed your hand against Charles’ shoulder to try and keep him together, sensing that he was feeling slightly overwhelmed. Your niece was unaware of what she had done, but hearing her finally call him uncle meant more to Charles then he could ever express. 

“I’m going to go and ask mummy if I can play with the car soon,” your niece told you both, climbing out of Charles’ lap. “I want you to show me how to do it before you go home so I can be as fast as you.” 

Charles helped her down before shifting his body to look around at you, letting go of a chuckle of disbelief. You smiled widely across at him, nudging against Charles’ arm gently. 

“You must be pretty important for her to call you uncle,” you told him, brushing your hand through his hair. “She absolutely adores you Charles, apparently you’ve got your own mini me in the future already too.” 

“She’s a good kid,” Charles hummed, still slightly in disbelief. “I’m trying to be chill about this, but inside my heart is absolutely racing right now.” 

You could tell from the look in his eyes that it meant the world to Charles, your family were all special to him, but the children in your family were a little more. He loved being around them, entertaining them and making them smile, which he seemed to do perfectly. 

“It sounds like I’ve got to find a pretty good present for next year too,” he chuckled, “do you think your sister might hate me for buying her a Ferrari?” 

“I dread to think the state her house will be in soon,” you sniggered. 

As guilty as Charles wanted to feel, seeing how excited your niece was about her gift made it all worth it for him. “I might have to go and apologise otherwise she’ll never speak to me again.” 

“Well, you’ve definitely won the competition for best present this year,” you joked, slipping your hand into his. “She won’t be mad at you for too long anyway, she adores you, my whole family do to be honest.” 

“They’re awesome,” Charles encouraged, “I’ve never known a group of people to make me feel so welcome in my life, I feel like I’ve always been here with you guys.” 

“Now you’ve got no choice but to be stuck with us too.” 

“I’m not complaining,” Charles noted, pulling you up from where you sat, twirling you around and letting you fall into his lap. Charles’ arms wrapped around your frame, allowing you to replace your niece in his hold. 

“Seems you’ve got a future as a driver coach too.” 

Charles’ head shook, unable to hide his excitement, knowing that over the next few days whilst he was home he’d be out playing with your niece, showing her the ropes of the new car that he’d bought her. 

“How does it feel to officially be an uncle?” You grinned, pressing a kiss against Charles’ cheek. 

“It feels pretty special indeed.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Spencer Reid

genre: fluff, light angst

word count: 6339

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: Dr. Spencer Reid is simply adorable. And you actually think he might be perfect. Until, that is, he isn't.

a muted shade of green masterlist // next chapter

His apartment is a muted shade of green and you always wonder why is it that he painted it so dark. The book covered walls never fail to impress you, making you smile into the ether that was this place with its shelves and shelves of worldly stories. His taste, you think, is more towards the classics and refined tales that carry significance and importance in the world of literature. Dostoyevski, Austen, Orwell, Doyle. Though here and there, in some corners of the living room or thrown haphazardly in the kitchen counter, you see peeks of contemporary names, the ones you’re sure you sold him a long, long time ago. Murakami, Zadie Smith, George. 

You met Spencer when you first moved into D.C., about a year or so ago, and sometimes, you really think that it was just yesterday when you first saw him with his purple scarf walking inside your store.

“Excuse me.” 

You have too many books in your arms to even see who is talking to you, but you apologise nonetheless; it’s the least you can do for your first customer. “I’ll be with you in a moment, apologies for the mess, we literally just opened.” In your defence, you had been so busy unpacking all the new orders and organising things into shelves that you absolutely forgot to put the plaque with your opening hours by the door. You can hear his shoes clicking and clacking around the place, and a wave of anxiety washes through you. If he leaves with a book– luckily two– you will have made your first sell and that just might remind you that of the reason why you decided to do this in the first place.

Carefully putting the pile of Maggie Nelson’s on the counter, you finally turn to face him, tired smile from ear to ear when you see him holding two books already. “You found something you like?” You gently ask, voice calm and fingers fidgeting while you wait for an answer. “Many things, actually. I’m quite glad to see a wide variety of books here, it’s been hard finding something new to read lately.” 

His voice is pointed and it echoes in the empty store. The clock on the walls says it’s 7:58AM and you suck in a breath; it’s definitely too early for someone to be looking for books, but maybe he wants entertainment for his commute, maybe he needs a distraction for the way, or maybe he is odd like that. 

It must be cold outside. The man is wearing a purple scarf  inside what looks like a wool coat, and somehow, he fits in there, in your store. He looks like the kind of person who would be buying books as early as 8 in the morning and you’re not sure if that is adorable or unhinged. 

“Just these, thank you,” The loud thump of the pile of books he deposits by the cashier makes you gasp. “You have a great selection here, I was lucky you open early!” The twinkle in his eyes is what keeps you from telling him that that, in fact, was a big mistake. In the middle of rushing to get the keys from the landlord in time, get the deliveries, get everything sorted and organised, you had completely forgotten to put out the hours for the shop. 

“I am glad you found us here! Do you live nearby?” At this point, you’re just trying to make conversation as you bagged his items, smiling at the titles and happy to see your favourite book in the midst. “I live just across the street, actually,” He said, giving you his card. “You’ll see me a lot, I’m afraid.”

“And what should I call my most loyal customer, then?” One look down at his card and you would know, but you wanted him to tell you himself. 

“Spencer Reid.”

There is not really a sound reason as to why you walk so freely into his apartment. The first time he asked you to do this, he was going on a case and needed someone to water his plants. As it turn out, your store is quite literally across the street from his building and you don’t really mind the mindless task, so you tell him to not worry, you’ll take care of it. It had been a few months since you two met, five or so, and despite taking you some time to truly understand, you got used to the fact that Spencer created a routine for both of you, knocking on your shop’s door every Monday at precisely 8 in the morning. With time, you stopped questioning him even when you had many, many questions– was he even reading all these books? If yes, how?! Every visit, he left with three books or more, and unless he pulled all nighters every night, those were simply sitting on his desk. 

Instead, you start putting a few titles aside whenever you spot them. You start it with ‘A Gentleman From Peru’ by André Aciman, short and sweet. Next week it was ‘A Little Paris Bookshop’ by Nina George. Then ‘Cultish’ by Amanda Montell. And just like this, you two form your own little book club, his visits extending beyond their usual thirty minutes into the better part of the hour to talk about the plot, the characters, the arcs. You know there is quite a lot you don’t know about Spencer, of course there is, but you learn more and more with every little debate you two have. You learn about his morals through the character he likes, and his dreams through the plots he enjoy. You learn about his photographic memory that allows him to quote his favourite sections to you, and you learn that he is a very logical man through his hatred for the inaccuracy of investigative books. You learn and you learn and you learn and you find out that you like learning about Spencer. More than you like learning about anyone else, that is, and now, every time he walks in, you can’t help but get excited, smiling as you only imagine what you would learn that day. 

Sometimes, you did notice the absence of your favourite customer. He would disappear for weeks on end and then act like nothing happened, and you get it; he doesn’t owe you anything, you’re just the lady that sells him books, but you feel like there is something that is starting to bloom when, every time he comes back, he brings you a book. “I thought you’d like it,” Is all he says before leaving with his bag of new reads. For a moment, it’s like an exchange, but Spencer never demands anything of you; never asks for anything more than new books and recommendations. 

It’s quite rewarding finding the books you sold him scattered through the apartment. There are a couple in the kitchen, open split on the counter and you smile fondly at the clumsy way he marks his books. There is no folded page, no book marker, no random picture; just his book, cover facing up, open and splitting the spine in half enough to crease. You shake your head, smiling like he’s done this just to rile you up.

“Oh my god, don’t!”

You don’t mean to shout but it’s too late. His eyes widen in shock and he immediately freezes, mouth stuck in a little ‘o’ shape that makes you blush. “What did I do?” 

The wince in your expression is as visible as the light of day when you speak. Your hands hover in the air, unsure of what to do now, but still trying to do something. “The book, Spencer,” The words come out like a whine, and if you start stomping your feet you might as well look like a child. “The spine. The book. The– oh my god, the noise!”

The way he laughs at you is contagious, and you start laughing with him, face hidden behind your hands in embarrassment. Owning a bookshop doesn’t come for free. Your particularities when it comes to your literary treasures are enough to scare any sane person away. “You know, there are worse sounds than a book’s spine breaking,” He mused, closing the book before walking to your counter. His nimble fingers drum a soft rhythm as he waits for you to go around and charge him for the book. It’s a symphony, almost; so loud in your quiet store that, for a second, your heart is tuning in, thumping as his fingers do, beating to the song he creates. 

“You don’t have to buy it,” It’s a little ridiculous how airy your voice sounds then. Aren’t you a little too old to have a crush? “It’s okay if–“ But he doesn’t even let you finish, rattling off some facts about the writer. Most of the time, actually, he is rattling off some fact about something, and some you know, some you don’t, but you never interrupt him. You like hearing him talk. 

You miss hearing him talk. Whenever Spencer leaves, you miss him. You miss the knock on your shop’s door at 8AM. You miss the shy little chuckles. You miss the purple– the constant, always there purple. A wave of sadness hits you then, looking around the apartment with a longing expression. 

The first time he calls you over, it’s not really an invitation. A week before it happens, he doesn’t show up for your Tuesday unboxing and you have to carry all the new orders inside by yourself. It takes double the time and despite the effort it takes you, it’s the absence of his coy chuckles and snarky commentary that leaves you breathless. When you open the boxes, checking inventory to make sure there had been no issues with your order, you find the book Spencer asked you to get him. It’s one of those special books, so old and unique that you could only get your hands on it because you had contacts in the space. “Huh,” You frown at that– it isn’t like Spencer to forget something. Hell, it isn’t like Spencer to forget anything. Before you can cower away from doing it, you send him a text. You have his number saved in the system, and this feels wrong, it really does. Using his personal information that he gave to you as a client felt wrong. But for a second, it makes you stop biting your nails in anxiety. 

Your book is here. 

It’s Y/N, by the way. 

He doesn’t answer right away and you wallow in your regret for as long as you can. Your shoulders hunch forward as you line up the new arrivals in the shelves. Your frown sits on your forehead all day while you help other passing customers. Your hands brush against the book, all ready and wrapped up and sitting on top of the counter. You hate waiting; you hate waiting for someone or for something to happen as if you’re praying for a miracle. Literature has taught you many lessons in life. It has shown you countless of love stories that could’ve been resolved with a simple conversation. It has told you about people that waited and waited and waited until time passed them away. It has taught you that waiting is simply delaying the inevitable. 

But what literature has not taught you is that, sometimes, waiting truly is all you can do. 

That day, you don’t get a message back. 

You get a call instead. 

“Y/N?” The familiar voice on the other side speaks before you can and your shoulders tense up. Something is wrong. He sounds hoarser than usual, airier, too. 

“Spencer,” You say back, clearing your throat of any remnants or indicators of how nervous you are. “Spencer, are you okay? You sound rough.”

Even his laugh sounds weak and a zap of worry rushes through you. “I’m fine,” He mumbles, and you know he’s saying it out of politeness. “I just got sick. I think I have a cold, it’s nothing much, really.”

The relief that washed over you in crashing waves is almost embarrassing. Even though he is not there to witness it, your face still flushes in a dramatic red. “Oh. I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you–“

“It’s not a bother,” The way his voice interrupts you, so strong and concise, makes you chuckle. “You’re not a bother. I uh, I’m glad to hear my book arrived.”

For a moment, you both stay quiet. You, on your end of the line, are nodding like he can see you. Except he can’t. Except he is waiting, probably, for you to say something. Do something. “I can bring it to you. If you want.”

This time, there is no pause. “Yes. I mean, yes, please. I– I don’t have anything new to read and–” Spencer pauses to cough and you start moving immediately. There is no one in the store and you quickly change the sign to ‘closed’, grabbing his book and your bag before locking the door behind you. There is a pharmacy at the end of the block and you keep your cellphone balanced between your shoulder and ear while your hands make sure you have your wallet with you. “Sorry.”

“No problem at all,” You cross the street in such a hurry that you don’t notice the traffic, getting a symphony of horns calling you out as you run to the other side of the street. “Shit…”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You tease, laughing a little and entering the pharmacy with purpose. “So just a cold, right?”

“Y/N, where are you?”

“Out,” There is no need to be vague, but you don’t want to give him a chance to protest. “I should be at yours in fifteen minutes with the book.”

“Just the book?” He asks in such a suspicious tone that you can’t hold back a laugher. 

“What else?” Thank god for automatic cashiers speeding up this entire process. You are in an out in less than five minutes and before he can even answer, you are almost at his door. Admittedly, you are speed walking, almost running, in a futile attempt to get there sooner. “Which apartment do I buzz?”

“Apartment 23.” And that is the end of the call. 

By the time you make it to his floor, panting just as you hike the last step upwards, he is already waiting for you, and you can’t say you’re terribly bothered to have a man like Spencer Reid waiting for you by the door. “Spencer,” You still admonish, a small smile playing on your lips. “You shouldn’t be out and about like this.” 

“Then who would let you in?” The mischief in his expression, much like that of a child making an innocent joke, makes you giggle, nodding in agreement. “Do you want to come inside? I promise everything is clean, I’m not a slob or anything.”

“Yeah, let me come in so I can give you your stuff.” 

“I knew it wasn’t just the book,” The coughing fit that followed has you rushing your hands, pulling things out of your bag in a desperate attempt to get him the medicine you bought. This had always been your curse, the flustering anxiety of wanting to help but being unable to take your time. Shaky hands push the book towards him, with the medication and some old receipts stuck to it. 

“Oh shit, sorry!” You squeak, grabbing the receipts and shoving it back in your bag. One of these days, you’d have to close the store early to clean this thing. “But uh, yeah, I got you some cold medicine and your book. I’m sure you know this with your big brain and all, but you need to take this before bed, cause it makes you drowsy, and this other one in the morning since it has caffeine! And you should be good in no time… hopefully!”

In life, a pause is not always a bad thing. It’s a time to think. A time to appreciate, to enjoy. It’s a time to be. A pause, however, from the man whose brain worked a thousand miles an hour, doesn’t feel like something to be thankful for. “Is… Do you not like that brand? I didn’t want to get the generic thing, I don’t know why, I–“

“Thank you.”

At first, you barely hear it. For someone whose voice is so rough and hoarse, you’re surprised he can still sound so smooth and airy. Your reaction is obvious; he can see the blush in your cheeks and the way you bite back a smile. “Y/N, thank you, I really appreciate it,” He says it again and now you think he just wants to get a rise of you. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” You shrug, faking humbleness while you keen at his praise. “I wanted to.”

“I know.” 

There is a dance that happens after that, one that you find yourself enjoying quite a bit. Spencer is more present than ever, and you’re getting used to having him around. It’s like you two broke the glass wall the kept you at a safe distance, and now is when you two discover each other a bit better. Like how you find out that, when Spencer’s hand lays on the cashier counter, just an inch or less away from yours, you feel the heath that it emanates. Like how your fingers curl and your palms itch at the sight of his shaggy curls falling on top of his beautiful eyes. Like how his laughter is deep when it’s true and dry when it’s forced. Like how he can read 20,000 words per minute, but he chooses to read 183 instead just so he can read you passages out loud.

You are not sure what he has learned about you, or if he even cares to learn something about you, but the thought still makes you smile. “What’s gotten you so smiley so early in the morning?” 

Ah, yes; another thing you’ve learned about Spencer Reid– he is as quiet as mouse when he wants, and as loud as an elephant when he doesn’t. “My god!” You jump, hand immediately going to your heart to try and keep it from beating our of your chest from the shock. “Spence! You scared me!”

“I’m so sorry,” He laughs, raising his hands in the air, shaking the two cups of coffee he is holding. “I come in peace.”

“And with bribery, I like your style.” 

His style doesn’t change, still haven’t. For ages, you think he buys you coffee at the nearby cafe. You don’t really know the name of the place, some cliche Cafe something something, but the one time you’ve been in there the coffee was terrible and the music too loud. It’s hard picturing your shy, smiley book-lover in there, trying to order something without raising his voice. It’s only when you see the go-to paper cups on his counter, on the fourth or fifth time you come around, that you realise Spencer has never gone to that cafe to begin with. 

The cups are still there. You make a point in spotting them every time you come over– next to the microwave, close to the paper towels. The reminder that this man has, in fact, been making you coffee most mornings validates the fluttery feeling you have whenever you think of it. It makes it somewhat logical. “I must be spending too much time with him,” You mumble to yourself, pushing your sleeves up and getting to work. You are there for a reason, and if those wilting plants die on you, you fear that you might just never be invited back. “Why does he even have plants?” 

You don’t know much about Spencer’s job. He hasn’t told you anything about it except that he travels a lot for it, but you can imagine it is something of importance– a man like Spencer was someone of importance, after all. In your mind, you can imagine him walking into an office down by the Financial District, working with big corporations as an advisor. Yes, you can absolutely see him as some sort of advisor or consultant, but something about him working in finances doesn’t sit right with you– he is yet to talk to you about crypto investments and how to better implement a payment system into the store. Shaking your head, you switch it up. Financial services, aren’t quite right, but maybe an editor, working in a publishing house. With the way he devours books and how well-rounded his personal library was, you could see him as a Publishing Director instead, reading manuscript after manuscript. 

The thought of him reading brings a smile to your face. In his living room, there is an armchair that sits next to the large window on the west wall of his apartment– he says he likes how the sunset hits and makes the pages look warm and golden, turning words into a burning fire of knowledge– and you can practically see him there, blanket over his legs, books and books pilled next to it. It’s your own little secret, how every time you come over, you grab a book, any book, and you sit there for thirty minutes, forty, fifty, an hour; until the sun has completely set and you have to get up to turn the lights on. 

Today, when you sit down, when you bring your knees up, when you drape the blanket over you, something feels incredibly right and incredibly wrong. On the pile of books next to you, right at the top, lays a copy of Gulliver’s Travels. If you remember correctly, which you usually do, last time you sat down at that spot you managed to read up to chapter five before the sun was gone. When you grab the book and you see the bookmark you gave Spencer the second time he visited the store, and you frown– usually, he’d pick up from where you left off. “How long has it been since you last came home, Spencer?” You muttered out loud, grabbing the book regardless. Because even when it breaks your heart to know something has been keeping him away from his precious nook, it fuels your heart to know he leaves your book where you can easily pick it up. To know he doesn’t mind you sitting on his armchair, to know he doesn’t mind you reading his books, to know he doesn’t mind you settling, somehow, in his house. 

A knock on his door, however, breaks you away from your precious moment of rest and relaxation. For a moment, you can’t move, frozen in place light a kid that has been caught doing something wrong. It’s only when they knock again that you move, shuffling to the door to look through the peephole. “Who is it?” You ask, voice weak and shaky. 

“I have a delivery for Spencer Reid.”

How silly you feel in that moment, hand over your heart as you take a deep breath in relief. Unlocking the door, you smile to the USPS guy. “Sorry, he isn’t home right now. I can take it for him.” All you have to do is sign it and close the door, but once you put the package on the counter and your eyes catch sight of a note scribbled on top of the box, all those butterflies inside of you slow down. And find perch. And for a second, make you miss them just like you miss him. 

The first time you think Spencer might have a girlfriend is when he comes into the store with a certain look in his face. He is practically glowing and his eyes don’t leave his phone for a second. “What has you smiling like that?” You two are close enough to ask these kind of things now, making jokes about each other as if you have been friends for ages. “Or uh, who?” Even though you started the conversation, you want to end it now. There is a sour aftertaste in your mouth when you suggest another person to be cause of his happiness, and you know, right there and then, that that is just your jealousy speaking. At this point, you’ve been harbouring a crush on Spencer for the almost two months and there’s only so much a girl can take before exploding. 

“Oh, it’s just a friend.” Somehow, this answer doesn’t settle you as much as you hoped it would. 

The second time is when he brings a woman around. She is blonde, and loud, and colourful, and you eye her carefully. They are matching costumes, and for a second, without even saying, you already feel left out. It’s stupid, being this green over someone so pink. If Spencer was purple, and if you are green, than that woman was pink– she is happy and light and exciting. Next to her, you… well, you are as muted as his green walls. “Y/N!” He calls for you with such a big smile and you just don’t have it in you to pretend to be busy anymore. 

“Hey Spencer,” It comes out quiet and a bit distant, but he doesn’t seem to notice, not with the way he is going back and forth on the ball of his heels. “And hello, ma’am. Welcome, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the owner. Please let me know if you need any help.”

That day, you two barely talk, but that’s okay, because Penelope, as she introduced herself to you after you help her find a specific book on coding, speaks for both of you. She says that it’s lovely to finally meet you, and mentions how much she has heard about you, and you think this is a very cruel thing to do to your poor, squeezing heart. But you push through. You pretend you’re tired, you apologise for the distance, and you lie about a cough. It’s better if they stay away, you say, but Spencer doesn’t buy it. Instead, he buys Penelope her book and leaves with promises of coming back the next day with your usual coffee. 

After that, you don’t see Spencer for two weeks.

It’s a bittersweet feeling when you get the text that he is back. After almost a week and a half without seeing him, you miss Spencer. He created a space for himself in your life and in your store, and when he is gone, it’s just not the same. But just like how he did, you created a space for yourself in his apartment. Suddenly, the muted green walls aren’t claustrophobic or smothering, but comforting. They are safe. Familiar. They are Spencer. And just like you said, you miss Spencer.

“Y/N!” 

You should be happier to hear his voice, but it’s not the same. The fluttering in your stomach is still there, like a slow buzz trying to come alive, but it’s not the same. Not when the note on the box, flashing like neon signs behind your close lids, has been tormenting you and your poor heart ever since you made the mistake of opening the door. “Y/N? Are you here? The door says open…” At one point or another, you have to come out of hiding and face him. Delaying the moment, though, is the best defence plan you’re able to come up with– if you look into Spencer’s eyes, if you see that pretty smile he has every time he comes back from a work trip… you’re fucked. 

“Y/N, I need you to tell me if you’re here!” It’s not the same. 

His voice. It’s not the same.

Usually mellow and undulating, Spencer sounds stiff, like he’s holding something back. Something new. Something… heavy. There is an edge to him right now, so sharp and cutting that it has you stepping out from behind the Science shelf in pure curiosity. And just like people say, curiosity killed the cat. In this case, however, it almost kills you. 

When you turn the corner to find him by the door, the first thing you see is a man. He is tall and handsome and oddly serious. The way his brows are pulled together make you falter, steps slowing down and mouth opening to ask if he needs help.

That’s when you see it. 

More like you catch a quick glimpse of it, the shinning spark of metal to your side, and you do a double take. You have to do a double take. It’s like your brain doesn’t believe what you’re seeing, and you move your head so fast you feel your neck tensing up in that way that makes your eyes water. “WHAT THE FU– OH MY GOD!” There is no way to throw yourself against a wall graciously, arms over your head and fear written all over face. You land in an awkward angle and your shoulder takes the brunt of the shock, making you gasp in pain while your legs give our under you. 

Of all the ways you’ve imagined Spencer, him holding a gun up to your head was never one of them. “Y/N!”

“Oh my god!” You think you might pass out– you’re breathing too fast and your chest is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing to the point of physical pain. There is a ringing in your ears, muffling the entire conversation between Spencer and the other man and even though you try, you can’t look up; you’re frozen in a state of distress. For the first time since you met him, you’re scared of Spencer Reid. “I– I– Oh my god, I c-can’t– I can’t b-breathe, I can’t–“

“Y/N, look at me! Look at me, you’re okay, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” The moment his hand touches your shoulder, you’re shrinking away. 

“Who are you?!” You manage to gasp enough air into your lungs to scream at him. One shake hand moves to the back of your neck, pressing down on the sore nape as you finally move to look at him, crying and all. “Spencer, who are you? Who is he? What is happening? Why do you have a gun in my bookshop, why–“

“Ma’am, I need you to take deep breaths,” The other man quickly holsters his gun and you actually think you might be going insane when flashes you a badge. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer. We are with the FBI.”

Federal Bureau of Investigation. Spencer is a fed. And he never told you. 

“The FBI…?” You whisper, eyes going wide and breath hiccuped in your throat. “S-Spencer, you work for the FBI?” Nothing about this makes sense to you. The gun, forgotten in his left hand and now pointing down and away from you, is all you can look at. The gun that looked heavy and cold. The gun that those hands hold– the same hands you’ve wished and, admittedly, dreamed of holding yours instead. The gun, the gun, the gun.

The gun. You’ve never seen a gun before, not this close. In museums, of course, and in movies and shows, but never in real life. You don’t have interest in it either, having voted, without fail, for anti-gun laws and representatives. Anything and everything about this, about seeing him with that deadly weapon, feels wrong, and you really think you might be sick soon.

“Kid, put it away, you’re freaking her out.” 

Then is when you catch sight of the Spencer you know. It’s the clumsy actions, looking almost freaked out himself– his hands fumble with the holster and it takes him a couple of tries to fit the gun properly. That’s when you know for sure– you are going to be sick. “Trash,” You mumble, trying to get up but falling again and again. “Trash, pass me the–“ But there is no time and you throw up right there and then, between the cashier and the nonfiction section. 

“What just happened?” 

“Morgan, get her some water– there, over the counter,” The rapid successions of words make you feel a bit better, a cadence of tone and rhythm that has your hands finally stabilising. “Y/N, you’re in shock. Adrenaline kicked in and left, and you pressured crashed, which is what made you nauseous. You need water, and to come sit by the counter.”

It’s funny, how in any other circumstance, you’d be ashamed and embarrassed to have gotten ill in front of him. As far as you know, Spencer is a germaphobe and this surely counts as germs. But as he grabs your hands, gentler than you’ve ever seen him grab any book in your store, and brings you to your chair behind the counter, you wonder if he forgot or simply doesn’t care. Both options don’t make sense. “Spence, what is going on?” Your voice comes out winey and rough, and there is no way to hold back the pained wince when you feel the sting spreading through your throat. Sip by sip, you try your best to drink the water and soothe yourself, but nothing seems to help. 

Nothing until you hear him next to you, small and quiet and, dare you say, meek. “I’m sorry.”

As much as you’d like to tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, he does. “I see…”

“It was just… it was new, having someone not know I’m FBI,” His thumbs play with each other and you’ve known him long enough to recognise that Spencer is nervous. “And we started getting closer and I just didn’t find an opportunity to tell you.”

“There were plenty,” You clarify, feeling a bit of a bitch for the bite in your voice making him gulp. “But it’s okay. I’m not… I’m not anything of yours, I guess, so it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t say that. You’re my friend.” That hurt.

“Do you point a gun at all your friends or am I just special, Spence?” It is supposed to be a joke, but the memory makes your bottom lip start wobbling again and you feel stupid. You feel so, so incredibly stupid right now that you can’t even begin to explain why. “Sorry, I’m just– I’m not okay.”

“I know, and we’re sorry,” There is such raw honesty in his words and he manages to make you smile a little. Your hand is still shaking, but you stretch it out towards him regardless. It’s a conscious decision to hold onto his wrist, covered by his jacket, than to reach out for his palm, and from the way he looks at you, you know he recognises the effort. “But you need to come with us.”

“Why?” You cry out, a single tear coming out of the corner of your eye. At this point, the shock is going away and you’re more overwhelmed than anything else. You’re scared and confused and overwhelmed and it’s his pulse, beating again and again, that brings you back to Earth. “Why do I need to go with you? What is going on?”

“Y/N, when you were housesitting for me, you received a package, right?”

In the midst of everything, the memory of that day, that box, that note, all fade. Frowning, you shrugged. “The delivery man knocked and said he had a package for you… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I–“

“No, no, no, you didn’t, you didn’t. Please.”

“Ma’am, when you signed for the package, did you use your name?” The man, Morgan, ask, and all you do is nod. Of course you signed with your name. “Kid, we need to take her to the office now.”

“I am not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on!”

Finally, some energy in you. Some strength. Your voice echoes in the empty shop, and the chair tips back when you stand up on stiff legs. Looking at Spencer is hard, when you feel the burning of your rage inside, but you still do; you still meet those pretty brown eyes, you still stare him down until you practically force the answers off of him. “The package… did you see who it was from?” 

“Spencer, are you insinuating you’ve pointed a gun at me because I read a message your girlfriend wrote on the package she sent you?! Because I didn’t mean to– I didn’t! It just… It was there, right at the top and I–“

“She is not my girlfriend,” He immediately cut you off, hands waving in front of him in a visual demonstration of desperate denial. “Not at all! I don’t have a girlfriend! I was–“

“We can deal with this later,” Morgan is quick to interrupt, sighing as he looked at you. “Y/N, we re really sorry to disrupt you like this, but this is for your own protection. Please lock the store and let’s go.”

It takes time for you to gather everything you need. You are not a disorganised person by any means, but suddenly, you can’t remember where you put what. Your bag is thrown under the cashier, and your keys are, for some reason, in the Fiction shelf. Your glasses are in your head the entire time, and Morgan has to point that out to you. The more you look, the more flustered you get, yet somehow, you make it to the car. Morgan is driving and Spencer is on the passenger seat, and the way they keep talking to each other using words that make no sense to you make you want to scream. “Spencer.”

The heaviness of his name, said with such emotion,, lingered in the air. His eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror, and he nods. “Yeah?"

“Spencer,” You whisper again, eyes wide in shock as reality starts to dawn. “Spencer, if she’s not your girlfriend, then who the fuck is Cat Adams?”

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

AAAAAhhhhh I'm trying something new >.< I've been a massive criminal minds fan for a long, long time and Dr. Spencer Reid has my heart <3

Please let me know what you think, this is my first Spencer fic and I'd love if it got to turn into a series!

[fuxuannie]

❥﹒ken sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — romantic headcanons about our favourite baseball player!

✦. love mail — i finished the movie and i loved his character development, simply the sweetest thing <3

✦. tags — SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, kenji sato x reader, i have not written in several months, i wrote this w my brain off ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ) aka i was just SPITTING whatever brain rot came to mind

I imagine Kenji to be the clingy, but doesn’t want to be type. He loves you, so much, so dearly. But affection isn’t his strong suit, especially not after what happened with his family. He shut out emotions for years, at least towards others. So this feeling of love, a nostalgic one, tends to clash with the walls he’s put up. He’ll hold you in his arms, burying his face in your shoulder, only for hours later to cringe at himself. He’s talked to you about it a thousand times, and he’s listened to you reassure him twice as many. He adores your patience with him, it's something he’s never really had.. especially with so much pressure on his shoulders.

Explaining his identity was surely no easy feat, you thought dating the most iconic and popular baseball players was the hardest thing? Imagine dating Ultraman, who came home to you every other week with some new injury. You always wondered why the reason was so simple for such a complicated wound, “I spilled boiling water on myself,” He explains with burn marks that are far more severe than expected. “I fell down the stairs”, he’ll say after landing in the hospital.. It didn’t make sense. And now that it does and you know the true reasons, your concern is far worse. Though he doesn’t mind the extra attention you give. ;)

Meeting his dad for the first time was.. nerve-wracking. You know how Kenji talks about him, and you weren’t sure what kind of impression you’ll make. But here you were, sitting on a couch and fiddling with your thumbs until you hear a doorbell. Before Kenji could even stand, you rushed to your feet and practically sprinted for the door, only to open it slowly and gently to reveal the kind old man standing outside. “Hello.” Cut to maybe an hour later, you’re laughing at old pictures of Kenji as he sits next to you and an arm wrapped around your shoulder. The two had a long path of forgiveness and understanding ahead, but Kenji appreciated that you brought him and his father together.

Thought the dad was scary? Imagine his daughter. As expected, the moment you walk into the room - distress. Emi’s starting to cry, an unfamiliar presence is in the room and it scares her. You’ve done a few babysitting jobs here and there, and she was really just like a child. Kenji apologized for her outburst and transforms to calm her down, opening the lid and picking her up under her arms. “No no, don’t cry.” His voice soothes her, and almost immediately - she’s okay again. It’ll take a few minutes, it really isn’t long until she trusts too you. Kenji found it adorable, how you played with her so casually.. many would be terrified, and rightfully so - but to him? It just displays your kind heart. My God did he love you.

Remember first headcanon? Right, to add to that, he’s not very good at vulnerability either. He’ll love to comfort you when you cry, or hold you when you need him. But if the roles were reversed? Absolutely not. He’s uncomfortable and you can see it, one look into his eyes and it’s like looking through glass.. he hates being open about his true feelings. Even if it’s with you.. the walls he’s built for 20 years aren’t easy to break, you know? But if you’re patient, and you take your time and say the right words – he’ll crack. And like a dam breaking, the water flows in an uncontrollable wave of sadness. He’ll sob, he’ll break, and he’ll need you more than anything. He doesn’t know how to feel about breaking down, but the way you hold him in your arms and whisper sweet nothings to comfort him, he could get used to it.

But on a lighthearted note, he loves dates! Most have to be in his home, because Emi can be clingy (got it from his dad), but you don’t mind. It’s sweet, he’ll have you play baseball with her or all you do is cuddle ontop of her, it’s the cutest little thing. But other times, when you go out– it’s just the two of you. And upon special request from Kenji for Mina to babysit her while you're there, you two get alone time. and it’s everything to him. The smallest affection has his heart racing like a teenage boy again, wrapping your arm around his, holding his hand, kissing him? Goodness, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know it. You and Emi are his world, and he’ll do everything to protect it. Other days, you, him, and and his father go out to the home in the woods for some personal time. You get to talk about his childhood with him and you talk about yours. There’s such a tender and unforgettable atmosphere when you’re with them. And you truly feel like you belong.

Overotectiveness, he was full of it. He’s lost so much, and all he wanted was for you to not go either. Nothing, nothing could stop his rage at the idea of you being hurt. You, Emi, anyone else important to him. He’ll take on the world for his family, and by the will of his parents he has. The pain he’s endured, the scars you scold him for so much are for you. If one threat escapes the city, that’s one likely chance he loses you. So he does everything he can to handle it. You’ve never gotten hurt, but the idea of it is enough for him to strive to be stronger.

While recovering from the explosion, you never left his side. It pained you to see him so still, lack of life. He’d usually be pacing back and forth in the room, rambling about something, and when you’d call him a nerd or dork, he'd run to you and playfully attack you with kisses. His arms around you tightly as you two would laugh your worries away, you didn’t have that privilege. You’d either laugh alone or not at all, the pain all too much. When he wakes up, best believe you’re there, and you just cry at the sight of his arms opening. You know his body is far too unstable for a hug, so you squeeze his hand. How grateful you are to feel him squeeze back.

With Mina and Emi gone, the house feels a little more lonely.. but Kenji’s adjusting. Especially because you moved in! He’s able to spend more time with you in bed since he didn’t have to tend to Emi, which was a nice plus. He woke up earlier than you (force of habit.) and he’d just.. stare. Maybe it was a little creepy, but seeing you sound asleep in his arms gave him such joy. He loved the little domestic moments he shared with you, it had him appreciating all the smaller things in life. Like sharing a meal with you, or watching movies together. You made him love the simpler aspects of living.

[sttoru]

satoru hums a tune as he adjusts his sunglasses — putting them on the top of his head. he’s in a happy mood today; nothing or no one could wipe that big grin off his face. the reason?

“. . . gojo, hurry up.” megumi calls out whilst idly standing at the foot of the staircase that connected to the roads outside campus.

you smile as you see your lover gleefully walk down the stairs — jumping from one to the other. satoru’s smile was one you wish would never fade. ever.

“oh!” the white-haired sorcerer suddenly stops in his tracks. his sparkling eyes take in the sight before him and his heart skipped a beat at the realisation:

two of his favourite people were standing next to each other. waiting for him so they could go on their little (family) trip. satoru just had to capture this moment and put it in the album that’s dedicated to the both of you. it’s a must in his eyes.

“megumiiii,” satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and puts it in landscape mode, tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips to show just how deeply he was concentrating on getting the perfect shot, “step a bit closer—yep! jus’ like that!”

“can we not do this? we’re gonna miss the train and—” megumi starts off with a sigh and a faint embarrassed pout, though was quickly cut off as you pulled him closer to your body — coddling him like he was still the little child satoru and you had met a couple years back.

the blue haired boy sighs once again, however eventually gives in and awkwardly puts up a peace sign. you smile brightly in return and satoru was absolutely cheesing behind his phone.

“awwww, how adorable!” satoru grins once he has taken about twenty different pictures — each one special and a treasure he will forever cherish. after putting the best one as his phone’s new lock screen, he rushes down the stairs and steps in-between megumi and you.

one arm holds your body close to his by the waist, the other arm wraps around megumi’s shoulders. megumi reluctantly allows it since he didn’t want to ruin the light-hearted atmosphere. that fact alone makes satoru even happier;

“let’s go — i can’t wait to finally spend some quality time with two of my favourite people, hehe.”

[beah388love]

Favourite flower

Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Summary: You love orchids..it could even be an addiction.

Warnings: swearing! Bad language, reader is upset and cries! (Please tell me if I missed any?!!!)

It was a known thing that you absolutely adored orchids. They were your favourite flower in the whole world and you would quite literally look after them like your babies.

-

“Okay now turn the chat on” lando explained to max and he rolled his eyes “how do I do that?”

“You press the button.” Lando said throwing his hands up losing his patience “what button?! There’s a lot to pick from!” Max argued and you gave the camera a tired look from their stupid arguments, they honestly sounded like an old married couple sometimes.

“Just let me do it-“ lando huffed as he pressed it and the chat started swarming with comments, “Jesus Christ how am I supposed to read all that?” Max said laughing and lando shook his head with a smile as he continued to try to fix the mic stand.

“Thank you for the sub Kelly5608…who’s that?” Max read out from the chat “that’s y/n guys she’s chilling” max smiled as you gave the camera a wave from his sofa.

User1: who is that in the background?

User2: OMG Y/N WE SAW YOUR ORCHIDSSSSS

User3: congrats on your win y/n!

User4: what orchids did you get for winning your race?!

User5: NOT MAX AND LANDO ARGUING AGAIN LMAO

Max scrolled up as he tried to read the comments “they’re all asking about your new orchid y/n” max smiled as he looked over to you “oh yeah! I was going to post her today but forgot! Hang on imma go get her!” You gasped with a squeal as you jumped up and ran out the room to go grab the flower.

“She loves orchids guys..the house is full of them.” Max chuckled and lando grinned “they all have names too”

“Here she is! Shes pink with SPOTSSSSS! I haven’t got a name for her yet though..” you beamed as you showed the camera your new orchid.

“How many have you got now?” Lando asked with a smile at your excitement. “Uh…12”

“Why do you like them so much?” Max asked and you shrugged “they’re just so pretty..” you said touching the petals of your flower in awe.

Lando wrapped his arm around your stomach and pulled you to him “max everything’s okay now, I think.” Lando said as he gestured to his set up.

“Thanks mate..are you guys staying in the background?” Max asked and lando looked up to you to see what you wanted to do, “mhm..yeah I’m gonna go put my orchid back first though” you said as you put a hand through landos hair before leaving again.

Lando huffed with a moody face as max thanked his subs.

User1: why’s lando so annoyed?

User2: lando looks so mad

Lando read the chat as he waited for you, “guys I’m tired..I’m not annoyed” Lando said not noticing you behind him making him jump a bit. “He’s tired..my grouchy boy” you smirked teasing him.

Lando grabbed his phone and sat on the sofa, pulling you on top of him making you giggle “can we sleep?” Lando asked tiredly and you nodded into his chest as he played with your hair.

“Lando and y/n are dead asleep guys..” max said as he looked behind him “i think he’s actually drooling…yeah he’s drooling” max laughed to himself as he stood up and took a picture before sneakily sitting back in his chair again “I can use that for blackmail now” max smirked with a devil laugh.

-

“Okay…chat can you hear me? Can you hear us?” Max asked into the mic whilst lando checked the monitor was working. “Okay..they can hear us.”

“Now let’s call ria” max said as he clicked his tongue, “max? Lando? Can you hear me? I can hear you.” She said through her headset and max smiled “we can hear you”

You were snuggled up in lando’s arms, playing a game on his phone.

“Is y/n there?” Ria asked and max looked over to lando.

“Yeah but she can’t hear you” max said and that perked your interest as you lifted your head and looked up at max and lando confused.

Lando bit back his grin “He’s talking about ria.” Lando explained and you nodded as you laid your head back down on his chest, lando stroking his hand up and down your back under your his hoodie.

“Is she gonna stay there?” Ria asked and max shook his head. Max poked lando on the head catching his attention.

Max silently gestured to you and lando nodded, “baby? Is it okay if you lay somewhere else?” Lando asked and you whined “why…m’comfy here.”

“Because I need to have room for the game we’re playing” Lando said and you huffed “fine…”

You got up and took landos phone with you still playing whatever game had your attention, “Kiss?” Lando grabbed your wrist gently stopping you and you smiled before giving him a small kiss, before walking off to your bedroom.

“Okay she’s gone.” Max whispered into his mic “you don’t need to whisper you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes with a laugh.

“Okay. So how are we planning this surprise then?” Max asked.

“Right..so I have a list of all the things she likes here-“ ria said but lando interrupted “we already got her some orchids by the way”

“Great, That’s off the list then.” Ria smiled as she scratched it off her notes.

Liked by McLaren, maxfewtrell, Carlossainz and 1,484,932 others

landonorris: Y/n’s surprise from me and max…. She has been blocked from this post btw so don’t tag her lol

Tagged: maxfewtrell

User1: omg where to find a man like lando?

User2: literalllyyyyyy

User3: omg this is so fucking cute

User4: what’s this about?

User5: y/n won the Grand Prix and lando and max did a whole stream making a surprise for her

maxfewtrell: we was in that garden centre for hours.

landonorris: hours.

Maxverstappen1: remember her birthday?

landonorris: god don’t remind me, it’s so hard to get her presents

Carlossainz: You didn’t get her that pink one did you?

landonorris: yeah I did

Carlossainz: Dude. You said I could get her that one?!

landonorris: snooze ya lose

-

Ginge and Ethan flew out to Monaco to ‘to train and eat like lando for 24 hours’

“Woah! Are these y/n’s orchids?” Ethan asked when he saw the windowsill filled with them, two hanging down either side.

“Mh? Oh yeah- that’s just some of them, the rest are in our bedroom” lando said with a little laugh.

“These are just some? There’s 1..2..3…8!” Ginge exclaimed as he counted them.

“What’re you talking about?” You smiled as you walked in to the kitchen right on time.

“Your orchids” lando smiled as he placed a kiss on your head and you gasped happily.

“Be prepared…they have names.” Lando whispered to them both before you began rambling. Lando giggled to himself as he ate his breakfast.

“This one is called pineapple! Because it looks like a pineapple and this one is called leafy-“ you smiled as you showed them both all your orchids and they were shocked when you told them how long you had them all..

“How many have died?” Ginge asked “only one out of..twelve” you said and he nodded “I thought these were hard to look after?”

“They say that but I’m not an expert” you shrugged “what’s the oldest you have then? Or the first one you got?” Ethan asked and you squealed excitedly.

“It’s one of my favourites..it’s called leafy and I’ve had it since I was 14 so…seven years nearly eight” you said and they both gasped “Jesus Christ- how long do they live?”

“Some live up to 20+ years but I haven’t had any that long to determine that yet” you smiled

“Anyway you better eat your breakfast before your workout” you said as you remembered their plan for today.

“I guess I know what to get her for her next birthday” ginge laughed and lando shook his head “No. No more orchids.”

“What?” You said sadly and he smirked “only kidding…I luv em- they remind me of you” he smiled as he pulled you into his embrace and you laughed “well in that case…I want a red one” you grinned.

-

You sat on the sofa with lando and Carlos for post-race interview questions.

“First of all congratulations on your win y/n-“ the interviewer smiled and you smiled back “thank you”

“My question is, so it’s very known that you love your orchids-“ the interviewer grinned and you giggled nodding your head “you could say that again” Carlos laughed

“Are you expecting any after this win? I remember your last win and might I say you got a lot” the interviewer smiled and you nodded “I don’t expect any, but I would love them” you answered.

“And might I ask why you love them so much?” The man asked and you thought for a moment “I can’t really say? I just do? Ever since I was gifted my first one I’ve just fell in love with them.” You smiled at the memory.

-

“Alright, max! We’re leaving now” you said as lando grabbed his bag “alright see you later” max smiled

“Water my orchids yeah?” You said pointing a finger at him sternly and he nodded with a smile.

“60 ml of water, boil the rice water- oh! And only on the weekend! Once a week!” You listed off as lando dragged you out the house.

“I will! Now go. leave!” Max chuckled as he shut the door.

A week later

Max poured the boiled water exactly too 60ml in the jug and walked over to your orchids and began watering them until he got to your favourite and in his opinion his favourite too, the light blue orchid.

The rarest out of all of your collection, it was a gift from lando after winning your first race and he had asked you to be his girlfriend. You had named it lucky.

He poured in the water and did a double take when he saw the flowers had shrivelled up and gone brown. “Oh my fucking god.” He muttered under his breath.

“Oh fuck. Shit-“ he cursed as he reached out to touch one of the shrivelled flowers but it fell off from his touch. “Ah- shit!” He swore as he began pacing.

“Fuck i killed it. It’s dead. Oh my god.” He panicked to himself and jumped when his phone lit up.

He hesitantly walked over to his phone and scrunched his face when he saw it was lando.

Lando: we just landed and y/n wants me to tell you to only do 60ml lol

Max bounced his leg anxiously as he sat down looking at his phone, he overcome his anxiety and hit press on the call button next to landos name.

Lando answered his phone confused, “max?”

“Lando- I uh- promise you won’t yell at me.” Max said quietly and lando stiffened catching your attention. “What did you do.” Lando asked and max breathed out.

“Is y/n there? Can she hear me?” Max asked and lando sighed, “y/n? I’m gonna go somewhere quieter okay?” He asked and you nodded.

“Alright I’m alone. What happened?” Lando asked worried

“Promise you won’t be mad…” max said and lando huffed “max. Just get it out.”

“I killed y/n’s orchid”

…

…

…

“Lando?”

“Oh my fucking god.” Lando shut his eyes and scrunched his face.

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t even do anything! It’s just brown and wilted and dead.” Max blurted in a panic.

“How are you gonna tell her?” Lando asked and max went silent “I thought you was going to! That’s why I called you!” Max argued and lando scoffed.

“Yeah well I’m not the one who killed it. Wait what one is it?” Lando asked and max bit his lip anxiously.

“The blue one….”

“OH MY F-“ lando whisper shouted as he slapped his hand to his face.

“Oh my god she’s gonna be so upset. Fuck. We can’t tell her yet, we’ll tell her after qualifying” Lando said and max sighed “fuck I feel so bad”

“Max I’ve gotta go- she’s coming” Lando said before hanging up.

“What was that about?” You asked and lando quickly lied “he needed help to connect to the wifi”

“That’s max for you” you laughed and he nodded with a fake smile “yeah- yeah it is.” Lando said through gritted teeth.

After qualifying

You had come second in qualifying, lando came first.

“Baby..I uhm- I need to talk to you and you need to promise me you won’t be mad” Lando said seriously and you instantly grew worried, “w-what is it?”

“So- uh- I don’t know how to say this but…max accidentally killed your orchid….” Lando said as he held your hand and you physically paled.

“Which one?” You asked with widened eyes and he took a breath “the blue one…” Lando said and you gasped and felt tears prick your eyes.

You know people would say how stupid it is to cry over a flower but it’s not just a flower. It was the orchid lando got your for winning your first race and it was the night he asked you to be his girlfriend that he gave it to you, and he had picked the colour blue 1. Because of how rare it is and everyone struggled to get a hold of it and 2. Because the colour reminded you of someone meaningful to you.

“Baby..” Lando said softly as he wrapped you in his arms “w-why did h- he k-kill it” you whimpered as you wiped your tears.

Oscar walked over to you both but lando quickly gestured to him to leave and Oscar nodded awkwardly before leaving.

“I- I wanna go back home” you whimpered and lando nodded as he rocked you both side to side.

“Alright..we can go back home baby” lando muttered into your hair as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“Can you carry me?” You asked and he gave you a sad smile nodding “hop on baby” Lando said as he bent down and you hopped onto his back, wrapping your arms over his shoulders and burying your head into the crack of his neck.

He felt awful. He could feel some stray tears dropping onto his neck and shirt.

He carried you through the paddock up to his car. You got off his back silently and sat in the front passenger seat looking down at you hands.

You pulled your hood up and lando felt so bad, he knew how much your orchids meant to you especially the blue one.

“Im sorry baby..” Lando said sadly, stroking your thigh with his free hand.

The jet home was silent for you, lando had given you his headphones and you sat on his lap you face buried in his neck and his arms wrapped around you.

He knew his headphones were noise cancelling so when Oscar asked him what had happened he sighed and explained what happened to him.

“Actually that reminds me- max was supposed to message me…” lando said as he grabbed his phone from the table, he could feel your breathing slow and little snores from you so he knew you had fallen asleep.

Max: is she okay?

Lando: she’ll be okay, how did you kill it?

Max: I didn’t! It just died! I swear! I’ve never killed her orchids before when I looked after them.

Lando: I know I just find it weird since it’s a couple years old now? It should’ve been fine.

Max: I feel awful.

Lando: she’ll forgive you don’t worry

Max: I hope so

Lando sighed as he shut his phone off, “are you sure it’s dead?” Oscar asked and lando nodded. “Max said its flowers have all fallen off and gone brown” Lando said tiredly and Oscar furrowed his brows.

“Doesn’t that happen when they wilt though? They usually die when the leaves go?” Oscar asked and lando pouted his lips confused “how do you know so much about orchids?”

“Y/n” Oscar said with a little laugh.

Once you got home

You had hopped onto landos back again, your face nuzzled in his neck. “Please don’t be mad at max baby, he didn’t mean to kill it” Lando said and you sighed sadly.

“I won’t I’m just upset.”

“I know.” Lando said as he rubbed small circles on the back of your leg, holding you up.

Max opened the door hesitantly, scared of your anger and sadness towards him but it didn’t come.

You hopped off of landos back and quickly walked inside to go look at your favourite flower but you paused when you saw it.

“Y/n…I- Im Sorry” max said quietly and lando bit his lip as he leaned against the wall watching you.

“Wait? I’m confused? Where’s my blue orchid?” You asked and max furrowed his brows pointing to the flower you was looking at.

“You said it was dead?” You said and max and lando looked at each other even more confused.

“Oh my god. You fucking scared me! It’s not dead you guys! It’s just wilted” you gasped in relief and max held his chest in relief.

“Wait so you’re telling me it’s alive?” Max asked and you nodded “oh thank fuck.”

“So you panicked us the whole time and it was alive?” Lando said and max nodded with an awkward tight lipped smile.

“Oh my god I’m so happy you’re alive lucky…” you exclaimed as you cradled the flower in your arms.

“Max is never looking after you again.” You half-teased and max looked at the floor embarrassed

“I said I was sorry! How was I supposed to know it wasn’t dead?” Max argued and you rolled your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter now. I just wanna sleep, I’m tired and my body hurts” you said tiredly since you and lando had literally just come back from qualifying.

“C’mon baby, let’s go to bed” Lando smiled holding his hand out for you which you took.

“Night max! Don’t go on any more killing sprees!” Lando teased and laughed when he heard max yell back “shut up lando”

-

Lando’s story updated

User1: THANK GOD

User2: OUR MASCOT IS OKAY! OUR BABY IS OKAY!

MercedesF1: thank god! You nearly gave the whole grid a panic attack! Shame on you max.

maxfewtrell: I said I was sorry 😔 no need to call me out like that

User3: I’m so lost. who is lucky?

User4: Lucky is y/n’s orchid

User5: lucky is our baby*

maxfewtrell: I apologise to all the lando and y/n fans…

landonorris: Get outta my comment section

User10: you better

User11: What did you do max?!

User12: how do you accidentally kill but not kill a flower?

User13: max our cute little murderer

User14: ^^ very mindful, very demure, very cutesy

User6: lando and y/n are so cuteeee

User7: what happened tho? She looked so upset

maxverstappen1: you gave me a mini heart attack when I read everyone’s tweets saying lucky died

georgerussell: I nearly died when I saw the tweets

User15: BRO WHO IS LUCKY?!

User16: lucky is y/n’s orchid

mclaren: so glad everyone is A-okay! 👌🏻

Carlossainz: I nearly dropped my phone when I saw fans tweets

User8: AHHH MY FAV COUPLE

User9: ITS *SHIPNAME*

I hope you enjoyed reading lol - this is in honour of my favourite flower

[obeymematches]

🫧🚿taking a shower together🫧🚿

nobody asked for this but let's go!!

Lucifer:

At first it was...awkward. This is a very intimate moment and frankly, he is not used to this. You already washed yourself almost entirely when he offers to wash your back. Also, he prefers very cold showers; he is used to not having warm water, living with Asmo and Levi. If you don't mind the cold water he'll suggest a thing or two... ;)

"Of course you may join me, my dove, need a hand getting in?"

Mammon:

He behaves as if he has done this before?? Very playful the entire time, teasing you with the showerhead. Gets the showergel and as a routine he washes your body. Isn't shy at all. Prefers very hot showers though so get ready for that. Will suggest sexy time at first.

"It's me MC, lemme join ya pleeeaseee!"

Leviathan:

Boy just wants it to be over at first, despite taking 40 min showers when he is alone. Very uncomfortable in this situation, just washes himself and gets out earlier than you. Not sure if this becomes a habit, but if you can get him to do it again he will like it more!

"Okay MC, I.. I think I'm ready!"

Satan:

Loves loves loves the idea and the moment!! Makes sure the water is perfect for you!!! "That's alright" won't do! Asks for permission to wash your body, hair, everywhere basically and his knees become weak when you offer to wash him. Now you must do this everyday, he has a new favourite part of the day!

"How did I not think of this before? Come on in!"

Asmo:

Well he is not a shower kind of guy but who is he to refuse this opportunity!! Poor bby doesn't even know how to switch from the tap to the showerhead. Very gentle when he offers to wash you! Compliments each part of your body! Feels like a therapy tbh. Likes his water warm but not too hot. Probably gets suggestive somewhere down the road.

"Ahhh MC I must join you! I really hope you don't mind!"

Beel:

Honestly he usually takes quick showers so this entire session lasts 10 minutes max, including drying. Offers to wash you but he uses the 2in1 very masculine gel so if you wanna smell more feminine you must stop him. Likes to hug you to make it even more intimate! Likes his water a bit cold but not too cold!

"Ohh, come on in quick! Of course I don't mind, are you kidding?"

Belphie:

Doesn't show it but he likes this moment so much! At least he has a reason to shower right? Very casual the entire time, doesn't ask but motions that he has the intetion to wash you. Looks very hot with wet hair! Doesn't really have a water preference but I feel like it's either too hot or too cold depending on the day.

"Ah now we're gonna have more time to cuddle! Let's do this MC!"

Solomon:

Adores this idea, though he also prefers kind of cold water. Acts very natural but inside he is melting. Pls wash his hair it'll make him want to kiss you. Doesn't become a habit but if you offer once in a while he is down to shower together. Though now he enjoys buying you different kind of showergels!

"I don't remember ever doing this before so uhh.. maybe if I stand here and you there-"

Simeon:

Ah he is very shy at first, might not think this is a good idea. If you can convince him though he'll be quick to warm up to this moment! Just washes himself though, it's not on his mind to do it for you. Likes moderate temperature water.

"Ah this is not so bad, honestly. Would you wash my back, please?"

Barbatos:

Does his best to enjoy every minute he gets to spend with you. The water is however you want it to be, he can make do with whetever. Has veey good quality gels and he uses a generous amount if you let him wash you. Anything for you MC <3

"Alright, come in. How do you like the water?"

Diavolo:

He overthinks the situation a lot. Has to make sure you have showergel options to choose from and whichever you pick he gets more of. The first time is awkward, doesn't really know what to do so it's up to you to show him the ropes. The second, third, etc time he becomes so casual and funny you can't help but look forward to these sessions.

"Come MC, there is plenty of place for both of us! I'll just move over here and-"

[sweet-as-an-angel]

hello ! i loved ur hcs for ghost x innocent reader sm, what do you think of könig x innocent reader? love ur writing ♡

König w/ an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Overprotective König, Rizzed-Out König, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

There is nothing König won’t do for you.

Your overall calm, kind demeanour brings him peace he’s never known before.

And because of that – because he adores you beyond measure – he can get very…protective.

He often treats you as more fragile than you actually are.

Horror film playing in the background while you’re talking ? It’s getting switched off.

A picture of someone exposing a shoulder in a swimsuit catalogue? It’s getting thrown into a fire.

A pair of your own underwear left unattended next to the wash bin? König’s stuffing it into the bottom of the basket.

There comes a point where you have to tell him that, yes, while you may be a little naïve, even a bit oblivious, you’re not stupid.

And, as best he can, König treats you as you want to be treated, which is to say not as if you are a nigh-extinct species of flower.

And, given this new ‘power’ as such – this permission to show you the less rounded edges of life – König begins to have some rather self-serving ideas.

Regardless of if you like horror films or not, König will use it against you.

He’ll test your stomach for terror, putting something frightening on whenever you’re having date night to see if you’ll cling to him.

And if you do, irrespective of whether you fear what’s happening on-screen or not, his soul will ascend.

He can die happy when you hold on to him, nuzzling into his side while quietly asking him to “Hold me, Köni. Please.”

Makes him feel all big and important.

Wear his clothes around him, my God–

First time he saw you in his hoodie – after an impromptu visit from the Rain God made your original outfit unusable – he literally did a double-take.

He dropped the plate he was washing, grasped at it as it slipped between his soap-frothed fingers.

He just punched it into the sink, heard something crack, and turned his attention to you. And only you.

“I– You–” König couldn’t even form a full sentence as you stared at him, half-peeking from behind the door.

“You look…” He racked every file, folder and confine of his mind for anything to describe how he felt right now, how you made him feel.

It just came out as a strangled noise. And, smiling, you hurried into his arms.

You didn’t mind that they were soapy and wet. And neither did König.

Though, the only reason he didn’t was because his brain was so positively fried that he quite literally could think of nothing else except you.

The longer you’ve been dating, the more comfortable König becomes with being rougher with you, shall we say.

It all starts when you start doing things you never did before.

Like letting your hands slip lower beneath his waist, resting on his hips; Sitting on his lap when there are no other spaces available – and then eventually when there are seats available; saying his name like that – “Köni,” when you need help.

“I just can’t do it all by myself. I need someone big and strong to do it for me.”

And, regardless of how sincere you sound when you say it, regardless of how you bat your eyelashes and plump your lips when you look up at him, König is far too whipped to say no.

At first, König genuinely doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally.

And neither do you, until you see the effect it has on him.

Making his cheeks flush and a pillow find its way to his lap when he sits on the sofa, your head placed precariously close to the growing issue between his legs.

Now, König isn’t the type to go throwing accusations around.

But when he catches you wearing his favourite hoodie, balancing on the edge of the kitchen counter to reach something placed on top of the cabinets (and I don’t mean the top shelf; I mean on TOP of the cabinets – like when you’re hiding a Christmas gift), your underwear peeking just below the hem, he can’t take it.

He knows what you’re doing.

And now that you’ve let onto him, with your doe eyes and your exasperated “Köni, I need you–” he’s gone. Snapped.

Just because you’re “innocent” doesn’t mean you’re exempt from König’s wrath.

To put it plainly, König didn’t seem so shy or frightful of damaging that night as he pinned you to the wall and took you for the first time <3

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[finelinefae]

rose [tattooH x innocenty/n]

synopsis: Harry's a tattoo artist who can't figure out the best way to say how in love he is with the flower shop owner next door

word count: 10.5k

content warnings: smut (first time oral f recieving, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N), brief mentions of violence

read part 1 here

this is a lot !! like a lot happens !! also everyone smiles a lot,, i can't help it they're happy

. . .

Harry had come to the conclusion that of all the things he had had to do in his twenty-six years of life - all the things he had to do and say to get where he was today - saying I love you to his girlfriend was proving to be one of the most intricate tasks he had encountered.

And it wasn't because he didn't love her. From the moment she stepped into his tattoo shop with determination and fear all intertwined into one expression right up until now, he was pretty sure his relationship with Y/N was the physical embodiment of what it meant to be loved and to love in return.

He had learnt so much about the sweet, pretty girl next door. From her little habits and small quirks that she didn't think he ever noticed.

Y/N loved wearing Harry's clothes. He had bought a new band tee from an online shop one of his friends had recommended to him. When the parcel hadn't arrived on time, he wondered if it had gotten lost in transit or they'd delivered it to the wrong address. He had emailed them once or twice to see its whereabouts only to find the Fleetwood Mac t-shirt on the body of his girlfriend asleep on his sofa when he came home from work. "But Harry, they're so soft and comfy!" She argued when he accused her the next morning. "Know that baby but I need clothes to wear." He was trying not to smile and pinch her cheeks when he caught a glimpse of her pouty lips. "But Harry-" He couldn't help but interrupt her with a quick kiss to her lips, "Can use some of my old shirts flower, y' can pick them out. C'mon sweet girl," He led her to his wardrobe and let her scramble through the box of his old shirts.

She loved being praised. Harry thought it was the cutest thing ever when he'd compliment her or tell her how good she was for him and her cheeks would turn a dusky pink colour. He'd often find himself kissing the crescent moon-shaped dimples on her cheeks whenever she'd beam up at him after he mumbled sweet praises into her ear, "M' good girl," He'd say, "Best girl, m' favourite flower."

She loved physical touch from him and him only. His favourite time of day was coming home after a busy day of working and finding his darling girl sitting up in bed, either reading or watching TV, waiting for him in his favourite soft, satin pyjamas she wears (he loved the feel of them under his hands whenever he held her). She'd make grabby hands for him as soon as she saw him walk through the door of her bedroom, wanting to touch him almost immediately. He'd kiss her a few times, run his fingers through her hair, stroke her cheek and brush his fingers over her arm. Even when they were walking through the streets of the town, Y/N would often cling to Harry - feeling anxious being around too many people. He'd comfort her with soothing touches, rubbing circles on the pulse point on her wrist to make sure she was okay.

There were so many things Harry had come to adore about his favourite girl in the entire world. From the way she'd look at him with big rounded eyes as though he hung up the moon and stars in the sky or knew the answer to everything she asked, to the way she'd melt under his touch whenever they'd do something even slightly intimate. He was so in love... He just didn't know how to tell her that.

Harry had never been in a serious relationship before so the idea of love didn't come easy to him. He had spent the majority of his life believing he was destined to be lonely, finding himself in one-night stands and never getting past the first date for lack of connection. He didn't know what romantic love looked like, felt like or even if it existed at all until he met his favourite flower. 

Moments would crop up where he could feel the first syllable spike the tip of his tongue but invisible hands wrapped themself around his neck as he tried to let the words out. Y/N would sit patiently, waiting for him to continue speaking, but he'd just end up kissing her, hoping he could communicate his words without saying them.

He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when it came to saying those three simple words, words that carried so much weight between them. Maybe it was because he wanted the moment to be special and memorable for her, so he waited for the perfect opportunity to confess. But the anticipation was driving him a bit crazy.

It was very early Wednesday morning. Y/N was cutting up sheets of tissue paper since it was nearing winter and people would be out buying gifts soon for their loved ones. She had ordered a bunch of new seed packets and planned to make little gift sets to sell.

Harry was sitting at the workshop table in the middle of the shop. He was wearing his shorts and a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. He wore his worn-out, white Vans as if they were slippers, with the left shoe dangling precariously from his toes, threatening to slide off at any moment. His tired eyes tried to remain focused on counting the coins for Y/N's till since she always miscalculated and would have to go visit him for more money even though his shop was cashless which he reminded her every time as he slipped her a five-pound note from his own back pocket.

The shop was silent in the early hours of the morning as the two worked separately. Y/N enjoyed that she didn't constantly have to make conversation with her boyfriend for him to be interested. They were happy to just be in each other's company for as long as possible.

"Baby," Harry's raspy voice broke the comfortable silence between them. Y/N's head lifted naturally in response, "C'mere." He opened his arm out but his eyes were still trained on counting the coins.

Y/N smiled tiredly and walked over to him, tucking herself into his side and holding onto the arm that wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head, "Didn't get to hold y' this morning, left me cold." He murmured against her.

"M sorry, H. It's always stressful when the season changes." She sighed, thinking about all the work she still had yet to do before autumn passed.

"S okay, just missed you is all." He hummed. Y/N turned herself so she was pressed against the worktop and looking up at him. She loved every version of Harry at all times of day but something about Harry in the morning made her swoon. He was so soft and cuddly, needy and grabby, she'd always have to pry his hands off of her in the morning so she could get to work on time.

Y/N grinned and leaned her head forward, past the hood of his sweatshirt, to kiss him. "Wanted to ask you if y’ would come on a date with me this Saturday.” He whispered, eyes still closed from kissing her.

Every eight weeks, Y/N’s shop would close for the entire weekend. Since her shop was open most days, she wanted to give herself at least some time off to look forward to. Harry knew that particular weekend was coming up because of how much she was looking forward to it so he made sure to free up his weekend too so he could take her out for the day. 

They had been on dinner dates and done a few other things here and there but there was only so much they could do in their small town. So as soon as he thought of the idea, he booked train tickets to take Y/N to the coast for the day. 

“Hmmm,” Y/N sighed, reaching into his hood to wrap her arms around his neck, his skin warm against her touch. “Where would we go?”

“S a surprise,” He whispered into her ear, his breath warm. 

“I’d love to go on a date with you Harry,” She replied, voice soft. 

“Yeah? It’ll be cold so you’ll need to wear a sweater.” He told her. 

"I only own sweaters," She rolled her eyes, pushing away from him so she could get back to work.

"Yeah, my sweaters." Harry teased.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, "Get back to counting those coins or you'll be fired."

"Yes ma'am," He couldn't stop smiling to himself as he carried on counting each penny.

. . .

The small train was busy on the way to the coast on Saturday morning but luckily they had managed to grab two seats next to each other by the window. Y/N insisted that they listened to one of the very many playlists she had curated for them both to listen to. It wasn’t long into their relationship that Harry had come to realise that music was one of Y/N’s love languages. 

He remembered when he first moved in and heard her music through the walls of her apartment as he bought his food shopping up the stairs his first night. The music played well into the night and he had planned to knock on her door and ask her to turn it down like she had done to him the day they had first met, but his ears caught onto her singing. He pressed his ear up against the door and listened as she sang to herself whilst dishes clinked together. She wasn’t the best singer he had ever heard but something about her soft voice soothed him, so he turned around and went about his night with the girl singing next door. 

Y/N pulled out her wired earbuds not long after they’d sat down and gave one of them to Harry. After Hours by The Velvet Underground started playing and Harry smiled to himself as he watched Y/N gaze out the window of the train. He reached for her hand which was covered by her fingerless gloves she had crocheted herself and intertwined their fingers together. 

The train pulled into the final station an hour later. Harry held tightly onto Y/N as people bustled to get on and off the train at the same time. The weather wasn’t perfect when they had arrived - slightly overcast and grey - but it didn’t stop Y/N from gasping at the sight of the ocean in front of her. 

“Harry look!” She pointed as the waves rolled into the shore. She looked adorable in her white hat and earmuffs, her white puffer coat made her look like a giant marshmallow. She was almost matching Harry, in his black puffer coat and green bobble hat. 

“Y/N! Slow down baby,” He called for her as he ran to catch up with her. 

They walked down the steps and onto the beach which was practically void of any people other than a few dog walkers. He was thankful he had told her to wear a thick coat since the wind was bitter and cold. Harry’s smile was so wide, that his dimples pierced each one of his cheeks as he watched her run around in her UGG boots and leggings. 

“Beautiful,” Harry whispered, hoping the words would get caught in the wind and blow straight to her so she could hear them. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sea,” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh sea air. Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

They walked side by side with each other. Harry held Y/N’s hand inside the pocket of his coat and every once in a while, she would stop to pick up a shell which she would pass to him to put in his other coat pocket. At some point, it started to drizzle down with rain but they carried on walking and talking along the beach. 

Harry would watch as Y/N ran up to the sea to pick up bits of sea glass and try to not get caught by the water. She looked adorable as she ran up the beach looking back at him with her woolly hat and giant coat swamping her. Strands of hair stuck to her damp, rosy cheeks as rain dripped from her coat since they had been out so long. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her as she crouched down to look at something she’d found in the sand. He made a mental note to share it on everything he possibly could so everyone in his life would know how much he loved her, even if she didn’t know just yet. 

Harry swore he was going to tell her he was in love with her right there and then but his heart fell out of his chest when he watched her trip and stumble back onto the sand. “Y/N,” He rushed over, immediately wanting to check if she was okay, only to be met with her giggling and laying back on the sand like a starfish on land. 

“Lay here with me,” She patted the spot next to her. 

The last thing Harry wanted to do was get his new black trousers wet and dirty from the sand but he would do anything and everything she asked him to do so he fell onto the sand and laid right next to her. 

His pinky finger hooked with hers as they both looked up at the sky, “Are you happy flower?” He asked.

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life,” She confesses and the words make Harry’s heart grow ten times the size. “I think spending time with you is when I’m the happiest Harry.”

When it reached past midday, Harry took Y/N to grab something to eat before they had to take the train home again. Their coats were dripping when they stepped inside the small cafe Harry had picked out for them. The kind owner had even offered to dry them both for them before they had to leave again. 

“Harry,” She gasped, “They do blueberry pancakes!” 

Harry smirked, not wanting to tell her that he had picked this cafe specifically because they made one of Y/N’s favourite foods, “Really? Tha’s your favourite right baby?”

She nods, “I’m gonna get that- ooo it even comes with the option of honey or syrup!” Y/N beams. 

By the time their food had arrived, they were well invested in conversation, “Was thinking of getting my ear pierced next weekend. One of my mates has free space and thought it would be fun to get a hoop or something.” Harry tells her. 

Y/N paused on chewing her pancake as she pictured her boyfriend with a hoop earring. She swallowed down her food before getting out, “That would be hot.”

Harry laughs at her bluntness, “Yeah?” He smirked, “You think so?” Y/N nodded, her cheeks tinged pink. 

Although they kissed and made out at any spare moment they could, they hadn’t really branched out from the time Harry had touched her for the first time. Y/N knew Harry was trying to be patient about it - he was a gentleman like that - but she was going crazy not having his ring-clad hands touching her skin, providing that ecstasy he had given her a glimpse of for the first time.  

“Y alright there flower?” Harry crooned, “Anything on your mind you’d care to share.”

Y/N shook her head, ridding them of her dirty thoughts, “M okay, H.” 

“Alright,” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, “You look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Her eyes softened, “And thank you for bringing me here today, I’ve loved being here with you.”

Harry parted his lips as if to respond, but found himself speechless, the words trapped somewhere in his throat. Y/N looked at him expectantly, her eyes silently urging him to express whatever was on his mind. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped, and he finally spoke, "I've loved being here with you too. I love every moment I get to be with you." Y/N beamed as Harry inwardly cursed himself for being unable to articulate the depth of his feelings. Yet, as he saw the radiant smile spread across Y/N's face, he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and contentment wash over him, knowing that his words were enough to reach her for now. 

After the train journey home, which took slightly longer than anticipated, Harry carried Y/N up to her apartment and into her bedroom where he slumped her down on her bed. Y/N hummed at the feeling of her warm, cosy sheets beneath her. “Comfy m’love?” He grinned, tugging the sleeves of his coat off so he was just in his white t-shirt and black trousers. 

“I’m so sleepy,” Y/N sighed, eyes closed whilst Harry tugged her shoes off as her feet dangled over the edge of the bed.

“Cause you’ve been running around all day huh? Could barely keep up with you half the time.” Harry briefly massages the souls of her feet after taking both her shoes off, knowing they were probably aching from running on the beach all day.

“But it was sooo much fun,” Y/N whined, her tired eyes peering down at Harry.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that lovie. Need to get y’ out of these clothes so I can put them in the wash.” He tugs on her leggings.

“Can you do it?” Y/N asks, “M too tired.”

Harry pauses, “Y’ sure baby? Don’t want y’ to be uncomfortable.” 

“M sure Harry, I trust you.” She tells him.

He smiles to himself as her words settle in the space between them. A smile curves his lips almost involuntarily, reflecting the quiet gratitude he feels towards her trust.  “Alright, lift y’ hips for me, flower.” He instructs and Y/N does as she’s told, lifting her hips so he can pull down her leggings leaving her in her pink lacey panties. 

Harry swallows as he sees the apex of her thighs. He hadn’t seen this much of her before and he could already feel himself harden in his jeans at the sight of her. “Think y’ can sit up for me flower? Jus’ so I can’t take your sweater off?” He tries to stop staring at her bare legs but he can’t seem to take his eyes away.

Y/N groans but does as she’s told, sitting up and putting her arms up so Harry can remove the sweater from her torso. Her eyes are still shut and Harry gently pulls the soft sweater over her head. 

When her eyes open, the first thing Y/N sees is Harry standing above her with his gaze fixed on her figure and she realizes this is the most he's ever seen of her yet. She had nothing but a vest and underwear to cover her body. Y/N was pretty sure he could see the curve of her breasts and the outline of her nipples through the thin, white material. 

“Harry…” she whispers, suddenly realising what was happening, how the temperature in the room had suddenly shifted.

Y/N shivered as Harry cupped her cheek and bent forward to kiss her. She leaned backwards onto the bed, resting on her elbows as Harry kept his hold on her cheek, using his other hand to place on her hip as he crawled on top of her. His hand was warm and big and his fingertips pressed into her skin sending a joint of electricity down through her body. 

They kissed and Harry groaned as Y/N uncontrollably rolled her hips into him, “Harry,” Y/N repeated, placing her hands on his chest.

“What baby?” He asks.

“I-I feel strange,” She confesses, not really knowing how to go about telling him what was on her mind.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N shook her head immediately, “N-no nothing’s wrong. It’s just… Remember last time? When you…” she couldn’t seem to finish her sentence, too embarrassed to describe what Harry had done when he taught her how to touch herself.

“What about it?” He wonders, patience and curiosity on his face.

“I-I want to do it again but different.” She cringed at her words, “I mean, I want to try something new. L-like I want you to show me something new I mean.” 

Harry’s features softened, “Yeah? You want me to take care of you huh?”

Y/N nodded, relieved he understood what she was hinting at without her having to admit it herself, “Yes.”

“What do you want me to do baby?” He kisses down the side of her neck, Y/N’s head rolling to the side to give him more room to explore her skin.

“I-I don’t know,” 

“Oh I think you do flower otherwise you wouldn’t be asking for something new to try would you?” He sucks on the skin of her neck and she whines at the feeling. His green eyes meet hers as he lifts his head up, “C’mon sweet girl, tell daddy what you want from him.” 

Her mouth fell open and her heart beat erratically in her chest, “I-I need you down there daddy.” 

“Yeah? You want daddy to touch you down there baby?” 

“Y-yes daddy please.”

“Still so polite.” Y/N seemed to melt as he crawled down her placid form, he could do anything to her and she wouldn't mind as long as he was touching her in some way.

She suddenly gasped when she felt him blow warm air onto her nipple beneath her vest. “Can I lift your vest baby? Can you let daddy see these cute tits?” 

“Mhm,” She hummed, her body vibrating with excitement and nerves. Harry’s fingertips brushed the skin of her tummy as he pulled her vest up to reveal her breasts. 

“Fuck baby,” Harry groaned. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Your shirt too!” Y/N insisted, feeling a little insecure as Harry was still in his white shirt.

Harry was quick to pull off his shirt to reveal his tattooed torso that Y/N had traced and slept on almost every night since they had met. Her hands were immediately on his warm skin as he kissed down the swell of her breasts. Y/N gasped as Harry gently pressed a kiss to her left nipple, sliding his other hand up to cup her other one, “See that? Y’ were made for daddy.” He said as her breast fit perfectly in his hand. 

“Daddy I need you,” Y/N whispered.

“Such a greedy girl.” He tuts, “Trying to worship you ‘n you’re just begging me to make you cum.” 

“N-no-” Y/N wanted to argue but Harry quickly kissed her lips before moving down her body. 

“Look at these pretty panties. Can already see you’re all soaked through them.” Y/N could practically hear the smile on his face. “Can I see baby?” 

“Y-Yes, daddy.” She swallowed back her nerves, even though Harry had already seen her down there, it was her first time experiencing someone be so up close. Y/N felt his fingers hook around the waistband of her panties until they were halfway down her thighs and waited for him to react.

“Fuck me,” Harry hisses. “Won’t ever get over the sight of this pretty pussy. Always manage to live up to y’ nickname, don’t y’ flower?” 

Y/N’s cheeks heat but before she has time to protest Harry leans forward and presses a kiss to her throbbing pussy. She snaps her thighs shut tightly and gasps, “W-what-“

“Shhh flower,” Harry kisses her knee and then gently hooks both her legs over either of his shoulders so she can’t close her thighs to hide away from him, “Daddy’s gonna take the ache away okay? Know you’ve been feeling all needy for daddy. Gonna do something that’ll help and put you right to sleep m’kay?”

Y/N swallows harshly and fists the fabric of the blanket beneath her. Her heart was racing and her belly was swirling with need and desire as she waited for Harry to do something.

He kissed the inside of her thighs, “You trust me?” He asked, waiting for her approval, “Because I’ll stop as soon as you say so, promise y’ that.” 

“Yes, daddy.” She said because she did trust him, wholeheartedly, “I trust you.”

“That’s m’ girl.” Y/N waited until she felt his warm breath blow over her pussy. His mouth pressed another kiss to her before she felt his tongue swipe across her slit. Y/N gasped at the unfamiliarity of it as he flicked his tongue softly over her to get her accustomed to it. His eyes looked up to see Y/N’s reaction at the first touch of his mouth. He smirked to himself as her breasts heaved cutely and her cheeks were flushed pink. 

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“S not my name flower.” He murmured against her. 

She tried to close her thighs but Harry’s head lay buried between them, licking and stroking his tongue against her. He wrapped both his tattooed hands around her thighs to keep them open, pressing his fingertips into her plushy skin. “Daddy,” she whined.

He licks up her wet cunt once more until he finds her clit. Y/N jolts at the sudden attention to her sensitive bundle of nerves. His lips pucker against her tiny, pink clit glistening with arousal, a whimper eliciting from Y/N’s lip. He moves his tongue in circles around it before gently sucking on the small bud.

Y/N’s a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him as he licks and sucks on her clit, her wetness coating his chin. She bucks her hips against his mouth and quickly removes one hand from the bed to weave into his hair. Harry groans as she tugs on his curls, his cock leaking precum in his trousers, the vibrations going straight to Y/N’s clit. 

“Daddy, f-feels so good,” She mewls, continuing to tug on his hair. Harry ruts his hips against the mattress, in hopes he could get some relief as he continues his assault on her pussy. 

“Y' so fucking sexy Y/N.” He grumbled, unable to stop his attention from her weeping, little cunt.

Her thighs began to tremble as she felt the coil tighten in her belly. Harry’s hand removed itself from her thigh and slid up the bed to reach for her hand that wasn’t already in his hair. He intertwined their fingers as if comforting her without saying anything. 

He paused his assault on her clit, Y/N whimpering at the sudden loss. Instead, he flattened his tongue against her once more before dipping his tongue into her hole a little as if testing the waters to see whether she’d like it. Y/N’s back arched and Harry’s hand left hers to place itself flat against her tummy to hold her still, the cool metal of his rings made her shiver as they touched her skin. His tongue delved in and out of her, using his other hand to rub circles on her clit with his thumb.

Y/N’s mouth fell open, her head fell back and her legs turned to jelly. “Y close angel girl?” Harry murmured, peeking up at her to see her blissfully zoned out from his touch. 

“Feels s’ good daddy, s-so so so good,” She babbled her head lolling from side to side. 

“Wanna cum baby? Wanna make a mess on daddy?” He urged her, feeling her core clench. 

She jerkily nodded, “Mhmmm,” She hummed. 

“Lemme have it, baby, daddy worked so hard, lemme taste y’ cum.” He hastened his movements on her clit and continued to lick and suck at her pussy, “Cum f’ me baby.” He coaxed. "Can't wait to feel y' round my cock someday, practically begging to feel y' tight, little hole. 'm gonna be the first and only one to fill y' up, isn't that right? Gonna let daddy stretch you out and fill y' up. You're all mine, 'm favourite flower."

His filthy words set Y/N alight. She felt the coil snap as pleasure rushed through her entire body and filled all of her senses. Harry groaned, continuing to press himself up against the bed until he felt his own orgasm building too, his lips staying on Y/N as she came. He lapped up her juices, riding her through her orgasm and tasting all she had to offer for the first time. “That’s my girl baby, so good.” He cooed. 

Harry’s eyes rolled back as his cock released inside of his boxers, his head falling to the side and resting on the inside of her thigh as he breathed heavily, “Fuck,” He groaned, eyes rolling to the ceiling. 

The room was quiet other than the sounds of them trying to catch their breath. Harry kissed the inside of Y/N’s thigh and worked his way up her body, placing soft, spongy kisses on her bare skin until he was face-to-face with her. 

Harry grinned lazily, his eyes tired as he brushed the hair off her face. His heart stuttered; he felt himself losing his breath all over again despite having just come down from the high of his release as he looked down at his girlfriend. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin was glowing from the afterglow, tendrils of baby hairs framed her face and her eyes were hazy and soft as she looked into his own. 

“Thank you daddy,” She whispered to him. 

Harry pressed a kiss to her lips. Her legs hooked around his waist as he circled his arms around her to pull her in tighter, “You okay? Was that good? Not too much?” He wanted to make sure she was okay before anything else. He’d hate himself if he did something she didn’t like or didn’t want to do. 

“M okay,” She smiled, her voice tired. He kissed her once more knowing she could probably taste herself on his lips. “It felt good.” 

“Y’ made me cum,” He admits, feeling the discomfort of his own release in his boxers. 

“I did?” Y/N’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. 

“Yeah, flower. That was so fucking sexy.” Y/N whined and tried to hide herself behind her hands. Harry chuckled at her reaction, grabbing her wrists to move her hand away and kissing her forehead before lifting himself from her. “Let’s get y’cleaned up.” 

Harry walked over to Y/N’s dresser to grab himself some clean boxers from the drawer he had curated from the nights he had spent with her. He also grabbed her some clean underwear and one of his shirts to wear to bed. 

In the bathroom, he got himself cleaned up and grabbed a cloth dampening it under the running water in the sink for his love who was waiting for him in bed. Harry paused at the door when he entered her room after he was met with a sight he longed to treasure in his mind forever. Y/N was lying completely bare on her bed. Her eyes were shut, her chest moving up and down and her hair was sprawled out around her. He didn’t know how he got so lucky with her, she was a living angel.

“C’mere flower,” He murmured, spreading her legs apart slightly and trying not to react to the sticky, glistening mess between her thighs. He placed the dampened cloth against her and calmed her down as she jolted beneath his touch from how sensitive she was. 

Once they were all cleaned up, Harry climbed under the blankets with Y/N half asleep against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and ran a finger up and down the length of her spine beneath her shirt.  "Sleep now, flower," he whispered his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the night. The warmth of his presence soothed Y/N to fall asleep. 

In the hazy blur of her consciousness, she murmured, words slipping from her lips without thought. "Love you," she breathed, the three words escaping her lips as effortlessly as a sigh, yet she remained unaware of what they meant. 

Harry stilled, his breath catching in his throat, “W-what?” But Y/N didn’t reply, instead, soft snores left her lips as she fell asleep beside him. 

. . .

It was the Friday after Harry had taken Y/N to the beach. Fridays were always busy at the tattoo shop so Harry was working away until the late hours of the evening. Y/N sat on a chair, her legs swinging backwards and forward as she played a game on Harry's phone. The sound of the tattoo gun hummed in the air whilst a bossa nova played over the Bluetooth speaker. Harry was still working despite the fact it was nearly time for Y/N to go to bed (She had a strict regime before bed which gave her exactly eight hours of sleep each night). He had promised her this would be his last customer as she waltzed into his tattoo shop, ready to go to his apartment together.

Harry hadn't mentioned to Y/N what she had unknowingly said in her sleep. When they woke up the next morning, he gently broached the subject, asking, "Hey, do you remember anything you said last night while you were asleep?"

Y/N, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, just shrugged in response. "Not really," she mumbled, her voice heavy with drowsiness. "Did I say something strange?"

"No, not at all," Harry assured her, though inwardly, he couldn't shake off the weight of her words. "Just thought you might've had a dream or something." But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake off the lingering memory of her whispered confession, playing over and over in his mind like a sweet melody. 

"Y' holding up okay there m'love?" Harry checked in, working on the final few finishing touches of the tattoo he had been working on.

"Mhm," She smiled but Harry could tell she was getting sleepy from the way he'd caught her eyes fluttering shut when he glanced over at her.

"Can go sleep on the couch out front if you're feeling sleepy." He offered, wanting to make sure his girl was okay before he finished off the tattoo for his customer. He knew first-hand how grouchy she got when she didn't get her sleep.

"M okay here Harry," She insisted, thinking she was lying to him well enough over how tired she was. "Can I watch?" She strained her neck to get a better look at what Harry was doing.

"Course flower, c'mere," Harry pushed his chair forward to give Y/N space to stand behind him so she could watch over his shoulder. He pushed down on the peddle and continued the tattoo as Y/N watched over him.

"Does it hurt?" She wondered, watching the needle press ink into the customer's skin.

"Jus' a little sting but when you've had so many it's not so bad," Harry replied.

Y/N watched in fascination. She was not only impressed by the design Harry had drawn out and tattooed to the customer so effortlessly but also how brave people must be to have such a permanent mark on their skin. She tilted her head to the side, "I want one," She mumbled.

Harry paused, "What?"

"Nothing," She replied, quickly.

Harry had heard what she said but decided he'd bring it up when there wasn't another person in the room, knowing how shy she got around people she didn't know.

After completing the tattoo, he wrapped it up and chatted with the customer for a little bit. Meanwhile, Y/N browsed through his tattoo design sketchbook with a furrowed brow. Once the conversation was done, he shut the door behind the customer and turned the sign to 'closed.'

He walked over to his seemingly overthinking flower and kissed the top of her head, "Wha's wrong m'love?" He smiled softly, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her into his chest.

"Jus' looking H," She tilted her head back to look up at him, kissing his chin in the process.

"Didn't know we were telling fibs tonight flower," He teased, spinning her around in his embrace.

"M not lying," She hid her face in his chest because he always knew when she was lying and she was most definitely lying.

"Can you look up f'me baby just f' a sec," He murmured and looked down to see the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen, round and sparkling under the blue lights of his shop. "Woah," He whispered to himself.

"What's wrong?" A crease appeared in between her brows.

"Nothin' just...you're so pretty," She whined, nuzzling her face into his neck to hide her very red face. Even though it was hard to tell under the blue lights, he knew she was blushing. "Hey, no, can I have a kiss please?" He cupped the back of her head and pulled her away from the comfortable spot in his neck.

Y/N stood on her toes to kiss him, tasting the tinge of eucalyptus lip balm she had given him when he had complained of having sore lips from kissing her too much in the colder weather. "So y' want a tattoo?" He murmured against her lips.

Y/N pulled away, "I-I was just thinking but-"

"You're not sure?" She nods. "Don't have to get a tattoo today m'love, especially if you're not sure." Harry comforted her, seeing the uncertainty on her face. He kissed the crease between her eyebrows but her eyes were fixed on a tattoo on his upper arm.

"Where'd you get that?" She asked, her fingers skimming over the small design. It was a fine line drawing of a pair of angel wings with a flower in the centre between each wing. Harry had designed it not long after meeting Y/N and had only tattooed the design onto himself a few days ago.

"Jus' a little something I drew 's all." He shrugged, "Reminded me of you."

Y/N's lips parted like she couldn't believe what he had just said, "For me?"

He nods, "Wanted to have you somewhere on me at all times."

Y/N goes quiet and Harry gives her the time to think as he packs away his things to head upstairs. By the time he's finished, Y/N's tugging on his sleeve and looking up at him with rounded eyes, "I think I'd like a tattoo, Harry."

Harry bit back a smile, "You do?"

"Mhm," She nodded, seeming sure of herself, "But I want you to do it."

"Wouldn't let anyone else do it anyways flower." He pulled out the kit he had just put away, not feeling annoyed in the slightest because he loved this girl and would set up his equipment all over again even if she decided she no longer wanted the tattoo anymore.

Y/N shimmied up onto the chair and glanced over at him, "What are you wanting on you baby?" He asked.

"I want the same one as you please Harry," She says, referring to the tattoo of the angel wings.

He smiles, "Wanna match with me, sweet girl?" He kisses her lips quickly.

Y/N nods, beaming up at him, "Yes please."

"So polite," He taps her cheek before going to his worktop and drawing out a stencil with a careful hand.  Y/N sat in the chair with her feet hovering above the ground. She was fiddling with her fingers in her lap as she glanced around at the designs she had admired many times before when she'd sit and wait for Harry whilst he worked.

"M'kay lovie, where'd you want it?" Harry asked.

"Oh," She pursed her lips, "I didn't think that far."

"Didn't think that far?" Harry chortled, "How about on your arm?” He squeezed her arm softly above the crease of her elbow, "Won't hurt too bad if we do it here."

"Okay Harry," She nodded, trusting him implicitly. Harry wanted to smother her in kisses with the way she was looking at him like she would do anything he said without even questioning it.

Harry prepped everything, making sure he had all he needed to start the tattoo. He went a little slower than he normally would, wanting to give her enough time to make sure she was certain about getting the tattoo. He mixed up the ink and switched on the tattoo gun as Y/N lay back against the leather chair.

"Y' okay flower?" Harry checked again, expecting to get the same answer he had already gotten only for her to chew on her lip and scrunch up the fabric of the skirt she was wearing.

"M a little nervous," She admitted, blushing.

"Hey it's okay to be nervous," He cooed, dropping the equipment and rolling over to her on his chair. He leaned against the seat she was lying in so his face was up close to hers, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face and the feeling of his hands calmed the nerves Y/N was feeling. "It'll hurt a little bit. Some people say it feels like a little like a tiny scratch but you get used to the feeling."

"But what if you start and then I don't want it anymore because it hurts?" She realises she should have asked these questions before they had gotten this far.

"Tha's why you need to be sure you want it sweet girl. Don't wanna see you in pain either but it's a small tattoo so won't take long and it's on your arm which means it hurts a little bit less." Harry explained.

"Okay," She nodded, "B-but can you distract me a little? It'll help if you distract me."

Harry smiled, kissing her lips, "Can distract you any way you want, baby. Here," He removed the dog tag necklace he wore all the time without failure and handed it to her, "Can fiddle with this while I draw on you."

Y/N felt her shoulders relax a little as she felt the cool metal in her hands, "Okay Harry." His lips pressed against her forehead, "Okay Y/N." He grinned.

Harry pulled on some gloves and got the tattoo gun running. Y/N went stiff as the humming sound filled the room but she reminded herself of Harry's words and continued to play with his necklace. "Okay, ready baby?" He gave her one last kiss for comfort and then, when she nodded her head, the needle made contact with her skin.

She gasped as the tiny needle pricked at her skin. It wasn't as painful as she thought it was going to be but it wasn't comfortable either. She tried to relax but her muscles were all tensed up.

Harry tried to comfort her as best as she could. Whispering words of encouragement, "So good baby, y' so brave." He'd say and tell her it would be over in a moment even though a moment felt like an eternity in her mind.

"Is it over yet?" She was starting to feel the discomfort and was already waiting for it to finish.

"Almost angel," He cooed and finished up the final lines of the drawing. "There we go, all finished."

Y/N let out a long breath she didn't know she was holding and immediately her eyes flickered down to the tattoo Harry had drawn on her. She was in awe of how beautiful and intricate the design was and how quickly Harry had managed to draw it so perfectly. It was a perfect size on her arm, the angel wings matched exactly the same as the ones Harry had done on himself. She almost squealed with how happy she was with her first ever tattoo and how it was a permanent reminder of her sweet and loving boyfriend.

Harry grinned as he watched her face light up when she saw the tattoo, "'Y like it?" He asked, preparing the cream and wrap to put on it before she did something that would get it infected - they both knew she would do that if he wasn't careful.

"I love it, Harry!" She grinned, her smile lighting up the whole room.

Harry laughed at her happiness, "You're welcome baby." He applied the cream and wrapped it up before she could move anywhere. Instead of leaping out of the chair, she wrapped her arms around Harry and pressed her lips to his. He hummed, "Best tip I've ever gotten." He murmured.

"I kinda want another one," She couldn't stop looking down at her tattoo and taking in how pretty it was.

"Woah, slow down there flower, think you should wait a while until the next one." He repressed a smile. "But I'll happily draw up another one f'you."

"Okay Harry," She said, not really paying much attention to him.

"Alright c'mon, le's go upstairs. Wanna kiss you in bed if tha's okay." He quickly put all of his equipment away as Y/N gawked at her tattoo.

"I think I'd love that more than the tattoo," She sighed. Harry decided not to pull her up on the fact she was probably telling another fib. 

. . .

"Y/N is that a tattoo!" One of her friends, Shakira, spoke out.

It had been two weeks since Y/N had gotten her first tattoo and she still wasn't over how pretty it was. Every morning she'd wake up and look at her arm and tell Harry how good of a job he did.

"No wonder you're a tattoo artist Harry!" She'd say, to which he'd just smile and sit patiently as she rambled about how much she loved her tattoo and how she wanted him to draw her another one.

"Oh yes!" Y/N rolled up the sleeve of her pyjama shirt so her friends could get a better look, "Harry did it. Isn't it pretty?" She sighed, thinking of her boyfriend who she hadn't seen since this morning.

Y/N had planned a slumber party at her place a few weeks ago since she hadn't seen her two friends, Shakira and Layla, in forever. She'd known them since high school and were the only two friends she really had other than Harry who was also her best friend. 

Harry had promised he'd stay away and give her some much needed girly time. Although Y/N didn't like the idea of being away from Harry, she knew it was needed. He had some things he needed to do anyway and she wanted to give him space to do that too.

"Do you think he could do one for me?" Layla asked, her arm already littered with small tattoos.

"I can ask him for you if you'd like," Y/N offered, receiving a nod from Layla.

"What's it like being in a relationship?" Shakira asked, "I mean Harry seems the complete opposite of you, I'd never have pictured you together."

Y/N smiles, thinking back to their first interaction and how intimidated she was by him. Now she couldn't get enough of him, wanting to be with him and touch him whenever she could. "I know but Harry's... I don't know, he's not like how people assume. He's kind, caring and lovable. We have a lot more in common than most people think and even the things we don't have in common, Harry always listens to the things I have to say even when he doesn't completely understand."

"Awwww!" Y/N blushed when she realised she had been rambling too much again.

"You're so cute Y/N," Layla grinned. "And we're so happy for you. Harry seems like a great guy."

"He is," Y/N agreed, shyly.

"Have you said I love you yet?" Shakira smirked.

Y/N's smile faltered, "N-not yet..." She looked away from their gazes, "But I think I'm just waiting for the right time. Harry always has these moments where I think he's going to say it but he never does and part of me thinks he's still questioning it." Y/N admits.

Layla offers her a sympathetic gaze, "I'm sure he's just waiting for the perfect moment to tell you Y/N. Saying I love you can be a pretty big deal for some people."

"I know," Y/N nods in agreement, "And I'll wait for him, however long it takes."

Y/N spent the remainder of the evening gossiping and watching movies with her two best friends. Now and then, she would look down at her phone just in case Harry had sent her anything but nothing appeared other than a blank screen. She couldn't help but feel a little bit deflated that he hadn't checked in on her like he usually would but she quickly pushed the feeling away. Harry had other things he was doing, she'd see him later.

"Thank you for having us Y/N! It was so good to see you, we need to do it again sometime," Y/N stood at the door to say goodbye to her friends. It was nearing midnight and she wondered if Harry was in his apartment waiting for her.

"Thank you for coming! I missed you guys," Y/N chirped, she really did miss having her girlfriends around. She was so busy with work and spending time with Harry, that she rarely had time outside of those things. But after today, she was going to make it a priority to see her friends again.

"See you later Y/N!" Her friends waved as they walked down the steps from her apartment. Y/N smiled and waved until they were out of sight. She planned on calling Harry to check in on him and see if he was alright but a crash from his apartment halted her steps.

She paused, stilling herself so she could hear a little better. Another thud came from his apartment followed by a string of curses and something that sounded like a clutter of things falling on the floor.

"Harry?" Y/N called through the door but received no response. "Harry, are you okay? It's me, it's Y/N."

"Y/N," Harry's voice murmured through the door. Y/N relaxed a little at the sound of his voice but she was still worried about him. It wasn't normal for him to keep his distance from her like this.

"Harry, are you okay?" She rested her hand on the doorknob, preparing to open it so she could see him with her own eyes.

"I-I'm fine baby. Go t' sleep m'love. I'll be there in a little while," Y/N frowned when she heard him wheezing a little as he breathed between words. He spoke much too slowly compared to his usual drawl as though it was too much work for him to speak.

"Harry please, jus' wanna see you." She tries again, hoping he'll open the door.

"Promise I'll be there t' give you your kisses baby but I jus' need... a moment," Y/N's face fell.

"H-Harry you're scaring me," She said, quietly.

Harry was on the other side of the door, clutching onto his side. He was already hurting but hearing his angel begging to come in was killing him. He couldn't leave her out there. She looked the perfect remedy to his currently aching body when he looked through the peephole of his door and saw her already in her pyjamas, looking all snuggly and cute.

"Not tryin' t' scare you, dove. Please I'll be out in a minute." He hoped she would listen like she normally would. He needed enough time to clean up as best as he could so he could return to her- looking like the Harry she knew- but she wasn't having it, reminding him of just how stubborn she could be when she wanted to. 

"Harry, I-I'm gonna open the d-door. I have to see if you're okay," She spoke, clearly and carefully.

Harry looked down as the doorknob twisted. He wanted to twist the key and lock it to keep her out but he lost control of his own mind as he stepped back and allowed her to push the front door open.

He stood under the dim light of his living room. He had been meaning to get the lightbulb fixed but he'd been spending too much time at Y/N's apartment to remember.

Her eyes went from his feet all the way up to meet his face. Her lips parted and her eyes started to water, his heart ached at the sight. "No baby," He stepped forward, pulling her into him and holding her to his chest even though it ached to do so.

"H-Harry," She whispered, her voice cracking, "What happened?"

She pulled back and cupped one of his cheeks in her small hand. Harry's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, he could have sworn every ounce of pain lifted from her touch alone. "Was out with a friend, you know, the one who deals," He explained, referring to Mike who Y/N had met. He didn't want to hide from her and she already knew he smoked weed regularly so it was no surprise to her when he told her he'd been smoking, "We pulled over so he could drop something off but I guess the customer got a little aggressive. He was probably on something but he was refusing to pay I think Mike said. I was in the car and all I saw was this guy trying to swing at him. I ran out to help him and we managed to get away before he had the chance to do anything worse but he obviously managed to get a good few hits in before."

Harry hadn’t remembered the last time he had gotten into a fight other than when he was a teenager just after his parents got divorced. He had managed to get a few punches in, making his knuckles all red and cut up, but he'd also been the victim of a few hits too. He had a black eye, a busted lip and a pounding headache from the impact of the punch he had received.

"Harry," Y/N choked on a sob, "Y-you could have been seriously h-hurt,"

"I know baby, I know." He cradled her head in his arms as she wrapped her arms around him, not squeezing too tight because she knew he was in pain. "But 'm here now."

Her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked at him, "You were helping Mike?" She asked.

"'s all I was doing baby, promise." He hated how worried she looked so he was willing to do anything to comfort her until she knew he was okay.

She pulled away, "W-where are you hurting?" She looks down as if checking him for any more bruising. He could see her visibly starting to panic, her hands shaking and her chest moving up and down rapidly.

"Hey, c'mere, c'mon now." He picked her up and brought her over to the couch, "M okay sweet girl, nothing to worry about anymore. Calm down f' me, please. Hate seeing you in a panic." He uttered to her, rocking her back and forth with her face buried in his neck. 

"You're all b-bruised," She whimpered, "Y-you must be in so much pain."

"Not anymore my love. Hmmm, my flower is here, takin' all m' pain away aren't you dove?" He kissed her shoulder.

"C-can I help you?" She whispered, eyes blotchy and red from crying a little.

"Wanna patch up m' bruises love?" She nods as if there was nothing else she'd rather do than be there for him. "Alright, le's go to the bathroom and y' can help me." He carried her to the bathroom and placed her on the counter near the sink. He grabbed a first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink and handed it to her. "Didn't know m' girlfriend was a little nurse." He smirked, a blush covering her cheeks.

Harry stood between her legs with his hands on the counter on either side of her. He watched her as she cleaned the cuts and treated the bruise covering his eye. He smiled when the tip of her tongue stuck out between her lips, "Be careful, I'll bite that tongue." He teased.

Y/N squeaked hiding her tongue away, but quickly composed herself, "You're not getting anywhere near my tongue mister." She sasses and Harry grins so wide, his cheeks hurt.

"No? You don't think I deserve a kiss baby? M in so much pain." He hides his face in her neck and presses spongy kisses on her soft skin.

Y/N giggles at the ticklish sensation, trying to push him away, "No, you can't, not until I patch you up and you stop getting into fights."

"Actin' like I get into fights every other weekend baby," He smirks, "Only f' you."

Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to figure out what to say in such a flustered state from his words. He takes the opportunity to kiss her, their lips pressing together under the low light of the bathroom. He hadn't seen her since this morning and had been missing her all day but knew she needed some time with her girlfriends without him smothering her. It didn't stop him from glancing at his phone now and then to see if she'd called him, just like she had done.

The small time they spent away from each other during the day made him all the more desperate to kiss her. He cradled both her cheeks in his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbones. She wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the baby strands of hair on the nape of his neck. "Missed you," She murmured when their lips parted.

"Missed y' too flower." He hummed, "Don't know what's wrong w' me to want you this bad." His hands travelled down her arms, his fingers brushing over her tattoo as he slid past it before he intertwined their fingers together. “Think m just a teeny bit in love with y’ to be honest.” He confessed. 

And suddenly they were both existing outside of their own bodies.

"W-what?" Y/N's eyes glazed over.

“Oh shit.” Harry cusses, squeezing his eyes shut, his face scrunching in frustration, “Wasn’t meant to be this way flower.” 

“Y-you love me?” Her bottom lip quivered, her brain not quite believing what she was hearing. 

Harry's heart was racing as he looked her in the eyes, "I love you." The words left his mouth and had never felt so right or so freeing. He couldn't understand why now of all moments was the time to finally say it but a piece of himself felt whole and all the pain from his body had left as he told her the three words that had been trapped in his throat for so long.

Y/N's mind whirred as she processed Harry's words. The air seemed to thicken around them, and for a moment, time hung suspended. She searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all she found was sincerity and vulnerability. "You do?" She whimpered.

"Oh no flower, don't cry. Hate seeing tears in those pretty eyes," He began to wipe them away as soon as they fell from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," She blubbered, "I never imagined... I never imagined someone could feel this way about me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Never thought I'd be in love either but here we are," He chuckled, "Love you so much, m'favourite flower." He rubbed their noses together.

Y/N's pouty lips sprouted into a beautiful smile, "I love you too Harry, more than anyone in the whole world."

"Y’ already told me that once before." He smiled, a mixture of adoration and a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“I did?” She frowned. 

“Mhm,” Harry nodded, “Before you fell asleep, you mumbled it and told me you loved me and when you woke up y’ didn’t remember.” 

“Really?” She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed knowing she admitted something so big in her sleep.

“Honestly,” Harry told her, “Think y’ were probably dreaming or something.”

“Is this a dream? Feels like it,” Y/N whispers. 

“S most certainly not a dream m’love.” Harry kissed her quickly, “Gonna love you forever I think.” 

She leant forward, running her fingers through his hair as his head fell back. He hummed at the feeling, biting on his lip to stop himself from smiling so much before burying his face in the crook of her neck - in the place he loved so much. "Promise." He whispered, lips ghosting her skin.

Their fingers traced lazy patterns on each other's skin, a silent communication between them. The room was filled with the hushed whispers of their love, as if time had slowed down so they could savour the sweetness of this very moment.

Y/N yawned which made the corner of Harry's lips turn upwards, "Y' done fixing me up now? Wanna go t' bed love?" She nodded, wrapping herself around him. He reminded himself to clean away the first aid kit in the morning, his priority was getting his girl some much-needed sleep.

She curled into him when they lay in his small bed, her head resting on his chest right where her heart was. She played with his hair and he ran a hand up and down her bare back underneath her pyjama shirt, "I love you," She murmured into the quiet.

He hoped she could hear his heart beat a little faster at her words, "I love you s' much, flower. With everything in me, gonna be mine forever y'are." He mumbled the words into her ear. 

Harry cupped the side of her face as her tired, glossy eyes looked at him with so much love and adoration, that he didn’t know what to do with it all. In the dimly lit room, they leaned in close, their breath mingling as their lips met in a gentle, passionate kiss. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, while hers tangled in his hair. They explored each other's mouths, lost in the heat of the moment, their bodies pressed together. Each kiss was filled with longing and desire, igniting a fire between them that burned brighter with every touch.

“I’ve never loved anyone before,” Y/N whispered to him. 

“Really?” Harry smiled. 

“You’re my first love.” Y/N has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling so wildly but Harry tugs her lip with his thumb and suddenly her smile is so wide her cheeks turn pink.

“You’re my first and only love.” He murmured. 

She liked that and she loved him. 

This was exactly where they were both meant to be —with the person who had become not only their first love but their forever love too. 

A flower tattooed to his heart.

[affableramen]

“Keep riding me” Genshin Impact men x You, the reader

Featured characters: Pantalone, Neuvillette, Capitano, Dottore

Tags: 18+ only please, gender neutral reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pantalone

His all time favourite is doggy, yet one day he gives his imagination freedom and considers a new position. As he scrolls through many possibilities he finally chooses one pattern and calls you to his office during his break. You see him sit on his couch impatiently, his legs somehow widely spread as he holds his hand to his temples and stares at you with a look full of pure lust. You realise exactly what this will lead to. “But we only have 20 minutes”, you warn him. Yet Pantalone is a but a lustful impatient fool at this moment. “Sit.” You approach the couch and he repeats himself: “Too scared to be on top? Come sit.”

“I am not scared, you scoundrel.”

“Then do it. I want you on top, now. Otherwise my pants might tear.”

You look at him perplexed. Is he so excited?

“My body has been rubbing against my pants for a while now and I am feeling quite… uncomfortable. Will you free me from this useless clothing?”

Vulgar language is natural for him.

You finally settle down on his lap and take his erect stuff out of his pants. Both of you are lucky his office is soundproof, cause it’s loud when you’re riding him.

“Fuck…” Pantalone throws his head back. His body is begging for release and he almost pleads you to empty his balls as the pressure grows insufferable. And you help him do exactly that, while gripping his shoulders and biting on his earlobe. Pants certainly did not expect he’d go so squishy and soft for you. You get your release pretty soon too, definitely proud of making a mess out of a powerful cocky man like him.

Neuvillette

He was wondering when you’d suggest him another position after spending countless nights in the dull missionary. Neuvillette himself is too shy to offer something like this out loud. But since you didn’t make any corrections he decided to be bold once and attempted to offer you something new.

“You want me to ride you?”

“Why not?” He is blushing like crazy yet his expression is unchangeably calm. You look at him astonished and your eyes widened so much Neuvillette is embarrassed to the point he clears his throat and looks away. “Well? I am free this afternoon. My staff has decided to take some of commissions today so I am available. What do you think?”

He is nervous, yet when this finally happens, he lets you use his cock to the last drop. He wants you to milk him dry and he adores seeing you rubbing your body against while he lays back. The sensation of having you literally sit on his dick is so unforgettable and refreshing, he comes hard and lets out some of his voice while doing so. He then covers his face cause he whimpered gently when you let him spill, which is so unlike him.

Capitano

Capitano is a huge guy in all aspects and he is always deliberate and slow with you. One day a thought comes into his mind, a sight of you riding his dick feeds a feral spirit deep inside him. Capitano does not say or suggest anything beforehand. Simply though, when you are alone in your home and get into the sheets together, instead of doing your natural bed sport routine with you under him, he gently pulls you to his lap not spilling a single word. You carefully climb in a better, more convenient position as soon as you take a hint. Capitano lets you move as much as you like. He tenderly squeezes your hips and takes himself in hand, inserting slowly to the fullest. He is so big, you’re panting, gripping his large chest. Once you’re used to the angle, he says under his breath: “Move, won’t you?” And you do so. The both of you finish contented with the experience. Capitano cleans you properly after and kisses your forehead, tucking you into sleep cause of how exhausted and good girl/ boy you are.

Dottore

Dottore… is just Dottore. He wanted an experiment and he’ll get it.

You were both sitting in the living room doing your stuff when Dottore suggests out of the blue: “Let’s have sex, but so that you’re on top riding me.”

You were amazed by hearing such offer from his mouth, considering how indifferent he usually is to stuff like this. Dottore immediately closes his book and puts it away.

“Why does your face look like this?”

“It’s a pity I don’t see yours.”

Dottore chuckles.

“You know I won’t remove the mask”, he pauses, “Now, let me unbuckle my stuff…” He clasps his belt and in no time his pants are loosened. “I won’t need my body naked, just the lower part.” He is always so messy, chaotic, clumsy even. You stare at him silently enjoying the view of his thighs. “Hey, what are you looking at? Just sit on my lap already”, Dottore hisses. You slowly, teasingly approach him, trying to get an impatient reaction. Dottore spreads his hips so that you have full access to him. And then you lower yourself, slowly and gradually. Dottore bites his lip with his sharp teeth. “Shit… you gotta bite my dick off tightening so strongly.”

“I knew you’d like it, Dott.”

Dottore is lazy as fuck and he wants you tonight to move against his crotch. You do so steadily for a while, before Dottore’s thin hands start rummaging over the table next to the couch and he finds a vial with suspicious liquid.

“A little aphrodisiac, just to sharpen the sensation.”

You roll your eyes and give him a skeptical look.

“You were planning it, huh? Dott—"

He pours the liquid first in his mouth and then offers to you. The night which seemed so dull to you ended with more than pleasurable sensations. You learned that Dottore can actually scream during the process.

[iiwaijime]

DESTINY — O. MIYA

cws; swearing, gn?reader, just fluff...!

wc; 713

osamu miya.

he's the type to cook for you, always. like, regardless of how well you can cook, or how different your schedules are.

"what time will you be up?" he asks.

"6:15."

and he'll be there cooking your breakfast already.

that's not to say you don't experience lazy mornings, either, when osamu has his arms wrapped loosely around you, and your legs are tangled together. when sometimes you talk about everything, and other times you talk about nothing, and he kisses your shoulder and you kiss his hands. he's warm, too, warm enough that you're kicking the covers off yourself and scooting away from him once you're awake enough. he's undeterred, though, following you around like a determined puppy until you finally give in and let him pull you back into his chest.

he's the type to absolutely smush your cheeks together when he kisses them; he definitely loves kissing your cheeks. he also loves nose kisses!!! he adores your nose — your everything, really, he just loves you a lot.

he loves chauffeuring you around, like hell YEAH he's your man and he will do everything for you. on slower days, he probably like, drives with one hand and uses the other to hold on to your hand or just rests it on your thigh.

speaking of which! this man is HUGE on physical contact. it's nothing too showy, and it doesn't really matter if you're in public or not. like, he ALWAYS holds your hand, everywhere! or has a pinky hooked around yours if you can't do that! OR OR OR when it's cold, he holds your hand and tucks it into his pocket along with his own.

adding onto the when will you wake up thing, when the two of you didn't live together he'd make sure he was awake before you so you could see a good morning text when you woke up, whether you woke up super early or super late.

when osamu falls in love, he falls so fucking hard. this man gets you flowers and keeps one for himself so he knows when to get you new ones. he buys you coffee every day and has a picture of you in his wallet, and a polaroid in his phone case. when you start living together, he writes you stupid lovey dovey notes and sticks them around everywhere. he even does the notes app thing and he knows everything you like. his wallpaper and lockscreen are both pictures of you, and he unironically has an i love my partner tshirt. probably more than one, if i'm being honest.

he lazes around in bed with you when you want, and has all your favourite movies downloaded everywhere, just in case. want to watch a new movie? he's bought the tickets before you even ask. he takes you to libraries and bookstores, and he dances with you in the rain, and goes on walks with you, and he's just so perfect, even when he's not. and he thinks — no, he knows you're perfect, even if you think otherwise.

he's SO good at comforting you. if you don't want to talk, that's okay! he'll hold you until you feel better, or until you're ready to tell him. or he can distract you with the stupidest small talk, if that's what you need. and he knows exactly what to say, always. he understands you, in silence and frustration and grief and pain. when you're okay, and when you're not. and whatever happens, he's always there for you.

and he's not a poet, and all he really knows is volleyball and cooking, but he swears you're some sort of wizard, because everything you do and everything you say is magic, and he's never been more enamoured by anyone, ever. if love is a person, it's you.

he's never believed in soulmates, but he knows he's made for you, made to love you, made to be yours. he's never really believed in things like fate either, but if he's destined to spend the rest of his life like this, with you, he thinks he could learn to live with it. but that's a lie, really, because he's not just okay with it. he's actually so fucking down to have you as his forever.

WSG UR FAVOURITE ACADEMIC WEAPON WITH THE COOLEST CHILLEST MOM EVER HAS POSTED rubs hands together evilly PLEASE LIKE FOLLOW REBLOG AND OR COMMENT IF YOU LIKE IT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME!!!