#heart on his sleeve type beat
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bhaalsack · 11 months ago
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metranart · 29 days ago
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The moment you received Gojo’s text you didn’t expect it to be a DICK PIC, and you even less expected it for him to be this BIG. There was his cock being compared and victoriously, dwarfing an Evian water bottle. Making you wonder how the sorcerer managed to walk— it was a piece of meat as prodigious as him. Your cheeks blazed red, and your fingers trembled unable to type any response and that was when anxiety took over you… he was typing… another message was coming- or was it another picture?!
-Is that big enough for ya?
Your brain read the message using that voice Gojo uses when he’s being annoying and immature. Your palms began to sweat… had this unsolicited dick pic been a retaliation for your sarcastic comment in the last mission?
“—I’m being serious, (Y/N)… what are the requirements you ask for a boyfriend?”
Your laugh was more to cover up embarrassment than actual amusement. 
“Let’s see-…” you pretended to be deep in thought, “Oh- I Know! That he’s rich, from a prestigious family and has a huge one—” you scoffed, snorting derisively at how shallow and laughable you manage to make yourself sound. “Honestly, I don’t know, Gojo. I don’t have a list you can tick off, do you?”
The way those bright-blue eyes stared at you felt almost accusatory. You could guess his next words because since you were kids, he’s never been shy about letting you know his tastes: You. You remember a young Satoru, pulling at the sleeve of your kimono and asking you to marry him. The only thing missing at this moment was for you to be wearing a kimono he could pull at… because without a doubt, the way he was looking at you was making the proposal you didn’t want to hear, again.
“Forget it.” Your voice beat him at it, BUT… Of course! he didn’t forget.
After what felt like an eternity but must have been a few seconds, Gojo finished typing and your heart skipped more than a couple of beats.
-I meet the requirements 😏
You could read the smug certainty of his claim. He was kidding, right?
-Now open the window before I break it to get in. 
He wasn’t kidding.
-Are you outside?
-Not for long.You heard the glass shatter and instead of uncertainty or anger, delicious jitters quaked your core, expectant... butterflies fluttered inside your tummy, and your skin pricked, this wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, it wasn't awkward. It was thrill…. Shit. Shit! SHIT!—
➡️🔞 Check out Gojo's inappropriate sorcerer behavior 🫣
If we reach 100 REBLOGS I’ll make part 2 (super extra smutty ;)
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bywons · 2 months ago
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MORE THAN PRETEND 愛。 fake relationship
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𝖫𝖠𝖢𝒪𝖭𝖨𝖢───tired of playing pretend, they want to make it official with you
𝑜𝑓 ܃ fake bf!enhypen x f!r 2739 𝑤𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 headcannons fluff fake dating au ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 skinship kissing jealousy suggestive? 。。。 / ( 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 )
૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა wow this could've been better, i rushed a lil TT but hope you guys enjoy ^^ !
reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks
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LEE HEESEUNG
heeseung’s always been the cool, nonchalant type—someone who can laugh off pretty much anything with that easygoing smirk of his. so, when one of your guy friends throws a casual arm around your shoulders during a group hangout, you expect heeseung to ignore it or joke in to the gossip, at least that's what he should do since you're not his real girlfriend. instead, he goes silent, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he watches the interaction with a clenched jaw.
the shift is subtle, but you know him too well. he doesn’t move from where he’s leaning against the wall, but the way his gaze follows your every move is unnerving.
“you good?” you ask, stepping closer after the gathering got over, and tugging lightly on his sleeve. his eyes snap to yours, and for a second, something almost dangerous flickers behind them before he masks it with a tight-lipped smile.
“yeah, i'm good.” his voice is flat, the usual playful tone gone. “didn't know you two were that close.”
you arch an eyebrow, tilting your head. “what, jealous?” you tease, hoping to break the tension, cracking him a smile.
heeseung lets out a humourless chuckle, his gaze sliding back to where your friend was standing. “of him? please.” the words are dismissive, but there’s a sharp edge underneath. heeseung finally pushes off the wall and closes the distance between you, his tall frame towering over yours as he dips his head down, his hand slowly caressing your upper hand. “but just so you know,” he murmurs lowly, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that only you can hear, “i’m your boyfriend, even if it’s fake. he doesn’t get to touch you like that.”
before you can respond, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. the way he holds you is different—no teasing, no joking, just a raw, simmering intensity that makes your heart race.
PARK JONGSEONG
calm and collected are two adjectives that can define jay the best, a total gentleman— a perfect choice to play your fake boyfriend, the best fake plus one for your uncle's wedding. but tonight, at the party, you see his mask slip. it’s subtle at first—the way his eyes harden when he spots you talking to some random guy by the drinks table, swiftly turning his head away. he doesn't think much of it until the guy leans in closer, saying something that makes you laugh.
that’s when jay moves. he’s at your side in an instant, so swift you down even realise his imposing presence as he slides an arm around your shoulders. “hey,” he says, his voice light but his grip firm. “who’s your new friend?”
you blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanour. “oh, uh—a family friend,” you answer, a tight lipped smile, but jay’s gaze doesn’t leave the guy’s face.
“right.” his smile is strained, more of a baring of teeth than an expression of friendliness. the guy glances between you and jay, looking a bit uncomfortable before mumbling an excuse and walking away.
as soon as he’s gone, jay pulls you closer, his hand slipping down to your waist, fingers digging in ever so slightly, your back hitting his chest. “next time,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, hot breath travelling softly down to your neck, “just tell him you have a boyfriend—me.” his voice is low and intense, vibrating through you.
your heart skips a beat. “jay, it’s not—”
“real? yeah, i know,” he cuts you off, turning you to face him. his dark eyes bore into yours, darting across your face real quick, resring on your lips. “but i don’t care. i don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you,” he leans in even closer, his lips almost touching yours, “even if this is just pretend… you’re mine.”
SIM JAEYUN
the party is loud, laughter and music filling the air as you stand awkwardly by the punch table, watching jake from a distance. he’s talking to someone, a girl with long hair and a smile that lights up her face. his ex. you bite your lips, feeling a dull ache in your chest. it's silly—you’re not even really dating, but seeing him so at ease with her, leaning in to listen, his familiar grin in place, makes your heart clench, makes you feel it was you making his heart flutter instead.
they look like a perfect couple. a real couple, with real feelings for each other.
you turn away, trying to shake off the pang of insecurity by getting out of this place. but before you can slip out of sight, a familiar voice stops you.
“hey, what’s with the long face?”
you glance up, startled to find jake standing right in front of you, concern etched in his features. “n-nothing,” you mumble, forcing a smile. “just —felt out of place, i guess.”
jake’s gaze softens as if he can see right through your flimsy excuse. he steps closer, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a worry line that you hadn’t realised had formed. he leans in ever so close, “is it because of her?” he asks softly, nodding back toward his ex. when you don’t respond, he leans in, his eyes locking with yours. “you know she’s just the past, right?”
“but you looked so happy, jake! and we're not even—” “i’m only yours, you hear me?” he whispers fiercely, his fingers tightening around your waist, pulling you into him. “fake or not, you’re the one i want to be with.” his voice is low, almost pleading. “i’m not going anywhere.”
warmth blooms in your chest, melting away the doubts. and when he kisses your forehead gently, it’s like the final seal on his promise.
PARK SUNGHOON
the elevator doors slide shut, leaving just you and sunghoon in the small, enclosed space. his shoulders brush against yours, a stark reminder of how close you’re standing. you glance up at him nervously, noting the sharp line of his jaw and the tense set of his shoulders. why does he look so annoyed? he hasn’t said a word since you two left the event.
you press the button for your floor, stealing another look at him. he’s staring straight ahead, expression unreadable, but you can tell something’s different today. his jaw is clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets, tension radiating from him.
it hits you then—he saw you talking to that guy earlier. your colleague from work, who’s been too friendly lately.
the elevator jolts slightly as it begins its ascent, and the silence stretches. you clear your throat, shifting nervously, taking a quick glance at his side profile, “sunghoon, about earlier—”
“does he always touch you like that?” his voice is low, cold even, cutting through the still air like a blade, face away from yours, looking straight ahead.
you blink, caught off guard by the question. “what?”
he turns to you, stepping closer until the space between you is almost nonexistent. “your ‘friend’ at the office,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing, leaning his head down as he loosens his tie. “he seemed too comfortable.”
you feel a flicker of heat rising in your chest—he’s jealous. But why? “sunghoon, it’s not—”
“i don’t care what you think it is.” his hand reaches out, gripping the side of the elevator wall beside your head, caging you in. his breath hitches as he leans in, his face just inches from yours. “we might be pretending, but i don’t like it when anyone else looks at you that way. you’re mine.”
the possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. your heart pounds as you try to process the sudden shift in his demeanour, the unspoken intensity in his eyes, the impossibly fast heartbeat of yours.
“we’re not real, remember?” you manage to whisper, though your body betrays you, leaning into the space between you two.
“then tell me,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. his fingers brush lightly against your waist, the touch sending shivers down your spine. “why does it hurt so much seeing another guy looking at you?”
you stare at him, mouth dry, as his eyes drop to your lips.
“i don’t want to pretend anymore,” he whispers, “please..” a desperate plea from his lips as his hands control itself to not pull you in, but you don't wait, and close the gap between your lips. and he pulls you closer, bodies clashing against each other as the kiss escalates. he smirks into the kiss, you're his for real now.
KIM SUNOO
it’s pouring rain, and you’re soaked to the bone, standing under a bus stop shelter that does little to keep you dry. you mentally curse yourself for forgetting your umbrella, shivering as the cold wind cuts through your drenched clothes. just when you think your day can’t get any worse, a familiar car pulls up beside the curb, headlights cutting through the downpour.
the passenger window rolls down, and there he is—kim sunoo, your ‘fake’ boyfriend, his brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and concern. “get in before you freeze,” he calls out, voice muffled by the sound of the rain.
you don’t need to be told twice. you scramble into the car, teeth chattering as you tug the door shut behind you. the warmth of the heater engulfs you instantly, and sunoo’s jacket is shoved into your hands before you can even register what’s happening. “you’re going to catch a cold,” he scolds, his voice laced with worry as he glances at your shivering form, “why didn't you call me?”
you blink up at him, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. “i … i didn’t want to bother you.”
sunoo sighs, leaning closer until you can see every droplet of rain clinging to his hair, every crease in his usually cheerful face. “idiot,” he murmurs, voice low and filled with something you can’t quite name. “you’re never a bother to me.”
your heart skips as he reaches out, brushing damp strands of hair away from your forehead with gentle fingers. his hand lingers, thumb tracing your chilled cheek softly.
for a moment, he’s quiet. then, he reaches over, wiping a raindrop from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, the gesture so gentle it makes your heart skip. “do you know how worried i was? pretend or not, i don’t want to see you like this,” he murmurs, his hand lingering near your face.
before you can respond, he leans over and tucks the jacket around your shoulders, pulling you close until you’re huddled against his chest and neck. “you’re mine to worry about,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then one on the bridge of your nose.
in that moment, under the sound of rain and the warmth of his embrace, it doesn’t feel like an act anymore.
YANG JUNGWON
it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. the plan was rather simple—show up together at the dinner, play the perfect couple in front of his friends, and go home as usual. but then the storm hit, trapping you at his apartment afterward, the rain pouring down outside in heavy sheets, drenching the city.
jungwon sits beside you on the couch, the dim glow of the lamp casting shadows across his sharp features, and you force yourself to look away. his jacket is discarded on the floor, sleeves rolled up as he runs a hand through his damp hair, frustrated by the turn of events. he looks too handsome right now.
it’s quiet, too quiet, with only the sound of rain tapping against the windows.
“looks like you’re stuck here,” he says, leaning back casually, but there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore. you tug the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to stay calm, but the warmth of the apartment and the intimacy of the moment is starting to make you nervous.
“i'll crash on the couch,” you mutter awkwardly, avoiding his gaze, but jungwon’s eyes are on you, piercing, like he’s studying every inch of your face. he doesn’t say anything at first, but then he moves closer, his knee brushing against yours, you shiver.
“you don’t have to,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver through you. his hand rests lightly on your knee, but it’s enough to make your heart race. “you can take the bed.”
before you can respond, jungwon cups your chin gently, turning your face toward his. his touch is soft but firm, like he’s been holding back for too long. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch, as his as well.
“we don’t have to pretend all the time, you know,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something real, “it's getting so hard for me…”
your heart skips a beat, and suddenly the fake relationship feels far too real. “jungwon, what are you saying?” you ask, your voice trembling as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, hands falling down to your waist to pull you closer.
“i'm saying,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours, “that i want to kiss you, but in a real boyfriend way, and love you too while at that.”
the rain continues to fall outside, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart as his lips brush softly against yours, the kiss gentle but full of unspoken emotions, before it quickly melts to an intense one. he pulls away slightly, his breath mingling with yours as he whispers, “stay with me tonight… for real.”
NISHIMURA RIKI
you never expected to find yourself in a fake relationship with riki, of all people—the energetic, mischievous older brother of your best friend. when he overheard you venting about your annoying ex constantly showing up at your favourite hangouts, he had put up a sly smirk and volunteered to be your fake boyfriend.
“think of it as a win-win. i get to mess with people’s heads, and you get a human shield. plus,” he had said, winking playfully, “it’ll be fun.”
you should’ve known that riki’s idea of ‘fun’ involved way more than you’d bargained for.
tonight, at your favourite late-night café, you spot your ex walking in, scanning the crowd. you freeze, heart thudding. before you can react, riki slides his arm around your shoulders, tugging you close. his scent—a mix of citrus and something else uniquely him—makes your pulse spike. it’s only for show, you remind yourself. except … he’s suddenly so convincing.
“hey, baby, you okay?” riki’s voice is loud enough to catch your ex’s attention, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. he leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath tickling your ear. “you’re all tense.”
you fight the shiver that runs down your spine. “stop playing around,” you mutter, but he just smirks.
“i’m not playing,” he murmurs back, eyes twinkling. his gaze flicks toward your ex, who’s now glaring at you both, and riki’s grip tightens around you possessively. “i told you i’m the best at this.”
the next thing you know, riki’s turning you slightly in his arms, cupping your cheek in a way that looks so natural it makes your heart skip. the café lights catch on the gleam in his eyes—intense, focused. your ex is staring daggers at him now, but riki pays him no mind. instead, his thumb brushes your jaw softly, his face hovering inches from yours.
“relax, would you?” he murmurs, but his voice has lost its teasing edge. there’s something almost… protective in the way he’s watching you.
“riki —” you start, but he cuts you off by leaning even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “let me handle this.”
before you can process his words, he pulls you flush against him, his eyes never leaving your ex’s face. then, with a cocky grin, he dips his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.
you freeze, heart pounding. when he finally pulls back, his gaze meets yours, unreadable. “there,” he says softly, still holding you close. “you’re mine now. got it?” and from the look on his face, you’re not entirely sure he’s pretending anymore.
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© BYWONS, 2024 / do not copy or repost without permission / div cr plutism
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malereadermaniac · 6 months ago
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Betrothed ~ Alpha FireLord Zuko x Omega male reader
Even after his father had been overruled, Zuko couldn't experience true freedom; bound by his duty as firelord Part of that duty was of course, as an Alpha, to find a mate and continue the lineage of the fire nation But when the firelord is brought a familiar face by the royal matchmaker, he's put at ease word count: 3.1k Sfw & Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI
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Zuko felt uncomfortable - both physically and emotionally. Physically, the firelord was uncomfortable from the head to toe firelord get-up; his advisors insisting he wears traditional Alphan fire lord clothing to his matchmaking appointment. He was deemed one of the luckiest men in the world, an Alpha born into not only wealth but royalty, but those blessings came with their own limitations. Zuko wanted to choose his partner, he wouldn't care of their secondary gender or status, the alpha just wanted the real love he had been deprived of all his life - and that was the root of his emotional discomfort. But nonetheless, as FireLord, he had a duty to his people and his honor, so Zuko was willing to go through with whatever was about to come.
As the matchmaker walks into the arranged meeting room, Zuko's nerves turn 10 fold - but he, of course, doesn't let that show, a simple chill running up his spine instead. He watches as the evidently Beta woman places down her folder and a packet of scent patches, sneaking a peak at her notes when she opens her folder; many graphs of scent compatibility catch Zuko's eyes along with his profile, clearly this woman takes her job seriously. After the matchmaker introduces herself, she hands out scent patches to any Alphas or Omegas in the room, allowing for Zuko to only be able to smell his soon-to-be mate and as to not overwhelm the Omega - afterwards, the woman starts to give a brief rundown of what will occur. Zuko listens attentively as he fidgets with his fingers beneath the table: the omega will walk in, she will read his brief information, the two will greet and scent each others wrists, if Zuko accepts the Omega then any advisors and herself will leave the room for the two to talk. It felt like the woman was talking forever, the FireLord's heart beating quicker and quicker by the second, but once she finally stopped, Zuko's head snapped to look at the door as the matchmaker stood up to let his future mate into the room. The last thing Zuko expected to see was his childhood friend - you, (y/n) (l/n).
"(Y/n)?!" Zuko stutters out, going to stand up but his advisors easing him to sit back down
"Ah! Zuk-..." you stopped yourself when you saw the matchmakers face, procedures had to be followed to a tee according to her. You make you way to the table Zuko was sat at and bow with grace
"FireLord Zuko, it's an honor"
Holy shit, your voice had such an immense effect on Zuko, the title of FireLord rolling off of your tongue perfectly. You were dressed in traditional clothing, ridiculously adorned with fire nation accessories, the sleeves of your clothing long enough to cover your hands as you nod and bow - you looked enthralling. Zuko had never seen you in this light, his contact with you having been cut before your secondary gender had shown itself, but man, did you really grow into a full Omega. Your scent was surprisingly the last thing the Alpha had noticed, but once he took a note of it, it was all the man could think of; a soft smell of flowers and cotton, it reminded Zuko of the happy portion of his childhood, but most of all it made his inner Alpha flare up like mad. The matchmaker starts to read off your information as you sit down in front of the royal, the both if you fighting smiles.
"(Y/n) of the affluent fire nation family of (L/n). Overall healthy with a blood type and astrological match with the FireLord. Most importantly, a 98% match between their pheromones. His fire bending is passable, but he passed top of his class in fire-healing. He has etiquette training, cooking, cleaning, and even medicinal skills as well as a fertility of 0.7 - one of the highest in the nation."
You cringed at all of your personal, embarrassing details were read off and watched as Zuko's advisors checked off on their little clipboards - but all of your negative emotions vanish when you catch Zuko's eyes, the warm smile on his face putting you at ease immediately. His scent was not only calming and anything but overwhelming, but it also felt like it was perfect for you, it was like gold was running through your veins every time you took a breath. The two of you snapped out of your infatuated dazes from the matchmaker coughing to draw attention. Zuko's advisors mumbled amongst themselves and then one whispered to Zuko, which resulted in a smile from the handsome Alpha which was followed by a nod - then, the next thing you knew, Zuko was holding out his wrist.
"May I scent you, (y/n)?" Zuko asked, initiating the scenting with his voice smooth like silk. You immediately agree and rub the scent gland on your wrist against Zuko's, your muscles instantly fully relaxing as his scent sticks to your gland. The two of you watch as all surrounding people leave the two of you alone and sit in a brief silence; that is until Zuko softly breaks it. Usual small talk turns into friendly catching up, Zuko interested in your life after the two of you were forced apart by life - you'd both talked about missing and thinking about each other and how you'd even witnessed Zuko's Agni-kai with his father. Over the half an hour that the two of you talked, your hands slowly crept closer together until Zuko's strong hand had its slender fingers intertwined with yours. Just before his advisors interrupted the two of you, Zuko had asked a question that shocked you
"Do you want to be my mate?"
Zuko knew the two of you had no choice in the matter, but because of his history with you, his previous and current soft-spot for you, he would want anything but to keep you in a forced relationship for his own benefit. After a short silence, a soft nod from you put Zuko's heart at ease; but that peace was only shortly lived until his advisors walked in and had you two follow along, the life of royalty barely giving the Alpha a chance to breathe. The two of you walked behind Zuko's head advisor, his other few trailing behind you both - and even they couldn't help but notice how right you two looked walking next to one another. After being escorted to your new shared bedroom, Zuko's advisors planned to take Zuko away to further discuss your relationship; however a wrench had been thrown into their plans when Zuko immediately disagreed, demanding that a discuss that surrounds you should include you. The way that the Alpha stood up for you made you beam internally, a small smile making its way onto your face, and with no room for argument, you left the room with Zuko and his advisors towards the meeting room. Passing by the throne room, the two of you notice some workers build you a throne as they did for Zuko - those advisors work really quick it seems - the both of you take into account how Zuko's is taller and positioned just a little higher than yous...
"We propose that the wedding happens by the end of the month" the lead advisor begins the discussion. The scene isn't necessarily foreign to you, your father having you sit in on meeting with the previous FireLord in this very room, a large table sits in the middle of the room, Zuko is positioned at the head with you next to him (kneeling in the floor) as his advisors sit at the opposite end.
"Isn't that a little too soon? Can't we have it by the end of the year?" Zuko argues, clearly not wanting to rush a delicate process
"One month is quite generous already, Lord Zuko... You must pull your nation together, a royal wedding is the type of celebration you need - the sooner the better, ten months is far too long" another advisor pops up
"One month isn't even enough time for me to properly court (y/n)" Zuko fights back, a calm demeanor on his face as he looks towards you and smiles
"My Lord, the Omega isn't the priority at this point in time, keep in mind you also need to provide an heir" the main advisor explains
"An heir? I understand the wedding, but the throne will receive an heir when the two of us so wish!" Zuko's tone shifts, clearly offended at the suggestion that your purpose in this marriage is to pop out pups
"Why don't we compromise to five months?" You pipe up, fidgeting with your sleeves as you look at the advisors
A short silence fills the room
"Don't speak during meeting, Omega" one of Zuko's advisors says to break the silence. All of then were thinking it, he was just stupid enough to say it
"I beg your pardon? Leave" Zuko demands, his tone devoid of emotion, and when the advisor protests, one look towards his guards has them remove the advisor from Zuko's meeting room.
"U-Uhm- Five months is acceptable, thank you" the lead advisor acknowledges your point, the first time you'd even been looked in the eyes by one of Zuko's trusted men
After the awkward meeting that surrounded your near and far future, the rest of your day reflected the whirlwind prior, sorting out royal duties and meeting Palace staff. But as the sun began to set and you made your way back to your room, Zuko stopped you
"Yes, my Lord?" You ask, looking up into Zuko's eyes with soft, tired eyes
"Y'know you can just call me Zuko..." the alpha blushes, the title really affecting him only when it came from your soft lips
"Haha... sorry, guess my training really did work" you chuckle
"Hmhm... was it really that intense?" Zuko asks as he starts to walk with you to the royal bedroom
"I mean... if you'd say 4 hours of etiquette training and 3 hours of learning how to please an Alpha a day is intense then yeah" you say with a sly smirk, the sarcasm in your voice evident
"Wow... I didn't even know... I've only ever had the regular royalty lessons" Zuko mumbles, closing the door behind you
"Yeah... even if I come from an affluent family, my secondary gender makes me get treated like a mutt" you say with a smile
"Well I promise you... I won't let that happen around here if I can help it." Zuko says sincerely, holding your hand in his firmly. The sweet gesture makes you blush, your words failing to come out of your mouth; your scent glands running rampant from receiving basic respect for once in your life! After a few minuets of silence, looking into each others eyes while blushing and breathing in each other's scents, Zuko suggests the two of you get to bed. You have to rip your eyes away from the Alpha as he let's his hair down, stripping off his heavy attire to his bare chest.
"Ah! Sorry! I'll step into the bathroom if you need" Zuko says with a worried look on his face as your insane scent snaps him out of his thoughts; your blushed face and eyes fixed on his toned body really giving away that your instincts were taking over.
"No! Sorry! Oh my, I'm so sorry!" You shout, tearing your eyes away and turning around embarrassed. Zuko chuckles and continues to change, but the same ordeal repeats when you begin to change - however, it was even more intense as the Alpha was practically drooling at the sight of your bare skin.
Sleep was very needed after such a chaotic day, and after a chaotic week, and a chaotic month. At some point, Zuko asked for your permission to court you, proposing with the crown given to the FireLord's mate; and of course, you agreed. Life started to seem less chaotic after that. Zuko would shower you with gifts every day and ensure to spend at least 4 hours a day with you, taking you out on dates to prestigious restaurants and on smaller dates in the Palace Gardens; it was enjoyable, it was the secondary school experience the two of you never had, having either been in private tutoring or single gender private school. It was also very evident that the two of you had never had your firsts in everything, of course, because of valid reasons; Zuko had been exiled near the time his secondary gender had come through! And you were under strict orders to stay untouched until you were mated, being collared for most of your life. But still, it was very evident that you two were massive virgins.
Point A: When Zuko proposed to court you with the priceless, beautiful artifact of the Royal family, you hugged him. The way that the Alpha turned red within seconds, his pheromones suffocating you, Zuko desperate to keep you in his touch as he scented you. It was clear that the young FireLord had never had even physical contact with an Omega.
Point B: The first kiss that the two of you shared. On a small picnic date in the gardens of the Palace under the moonlight a month into the alpha courting you, Zuko asked to kiss you. And holy shit when he did, the two of you were inseparable. Your lips were stuck to Zuko's for an entire half an hour, his tongue devouring your mouth as Zuko was taken over by his inner Alpha, pushing you gently to the ground and hovering above you. Your pheromones and his were running rampant, mixing in the air to make a stunning aroma, your moans were music to the Alpha's ears as your stomach did flips just from kissing Zuko. You could feel how hard Zuko was as he was grinding against you, desperate to feel you, desperate to have whatever he's been craving since he presented. Luckily, some guards stopped the two of you from doing anything that would get you into trouble.
Point C: Zuko is only 20, jealously is understandable. So when Sokka paid a visit to the Palace and required you healing after doing something stupid, Zuko had never felt what he felt in those few minutes. You, seeing another Alpha naked, touching his body to heal him with your fire, you'd never done that for Zuko! His pheromones were sour and his chest hurt, and once Sokka made his way to the guest room and you and Zuko to your own room, the Alpha demanded to know if you were infatuated by his water tribe friend. It was so evident that even seeing someone else's naked body was a high level of intimacy to Zuko, and even to you, it was at the time. But after kissing for the whole night, the Alpha's hands roaming your body gently, his jealousy faded away.
Eventually, the two of you made it official, Zuko's advisors already scheduling the wedding for the end of that week. The nation was ecstatic, hundreds of thousands of people either showed up or read about your wedding and mating to the FireLord. And that night, after finally getting permission from his advisors, Zuko set his eyes on marking you...
That night was intense, and it went on for ages, so here's a brief recap:
Once the two of you were basically locked in your bedroom by your advisors, Zuko decided to initiate
He held you against the door, and after gaining permission from you, looked down into your fucking sexy eyes, held your chin up to him and quickly started to kiss you
The Alpha held your waist and you chin, his tongue dominating you along with his insanely powerful and attractive scent
The two of you made your way to the king-sized bed without breaking the kiss once - Zuko on top of you as he undresses you
Once the two of you were naked, all hell broke loose
Your legs were placed onto the Alpha's broad shoulders, his two slender fingers immediately going to your slick-leaking hole
Moans filled the grand room along with a rich aroma of your scent mixed with Zuko's
You had cum already just from Zuko's fingers, and once he had licked up all of your sweet, sterile cum, Zuko aimed his huge Alphan cock at the entrance of your hole
The two of you went at it for what felt like hours, your bodies covered in sweat and scent glands releasing so many pheromones that they were beginning to liquefy and pool by your glands
Your hole had been stretched long ago, taking the shape of Zuko's huge, veiny dick
Eventually, Zuko couldn't hold back anymore, knotting you and cumming in unison with his Omega - the two of you taking the opportunity to fulfill your duty and mark each other
With that out of the way, the two of you spent the rest of the night making passionate love to one another, pleasuring each other in so many ways that your combined orgasm count for the night was 17! Luckily you two are literally built to have shit tons of sex!
And after that night, the two of you couldn't get enough of each other after finally tasting what you had been missing
For now, you were on the most expensive birth control - pills made in the earth kingdom using natural herbs and minerals that are almost 99% effective at keeping you and Zuko from providing an heir a little too early
So with the worries of pups out of the way, you two would go at it like... well... Alpha and Omega
Heats were insane but well spent with Zuko, the Alpha eating you out and fingering you for and hour minimum, making you orgasm plenty of times before satisfying the burn in your stomach with his huge cock
Zuko's ruts were when shit really hit the fan, his advisors would have to leave the palace and have it guarded for the week it lasted - luckily they were more rare than your heats
In summary, your Chambers walls have seen many things: from you worshiping the Alphan firelords body to Zuko letting you, the light of his life his Omega, ride him like a toy without permission to touch you
And in the future, once you two are ready for pups, Zuko can't wait to be the father he never had - and he knows that seeing you as a dad and care for his pups will further awaken something within him he never knew he had before meeting you
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lale-txt · 18 days ago
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❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)
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Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.
a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)
tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor
wc: 3.7k
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Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.
With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 
It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 
What a blatant lie. 
Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).
Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.
You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.
But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.
“That’s my spot.”
Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 
He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 
“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.
For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 
“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 
This damn smile.
“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 
He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 
“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 
You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 
Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.
“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.
It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.
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In the midst of summer, you pity him. 
“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.
The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 
“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 
“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.
“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.
“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 
“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  
There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 
He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 
“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 
Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 
“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  
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By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 
He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.
Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.
A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.
Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 
The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.
You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 
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With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 
You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 
On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 
He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 
Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 
“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”
It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 
“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”
Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 
“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 
His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 
You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.
The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 
The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 
You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 
“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 
Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.
In his arms. 
Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 
He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 
And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 
“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 
“Damn right it is.” 
You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.
You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 
“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”
He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.
“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”
Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 
Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.
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🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠
(This one ran away with me, whoops)
Batboy_Kas: Um ... dude, what? 🤨
This is the dm that greets Steve when he pulls his phone from his back pocket to check his Instagram. One confused frown, some scrolling, and one near-heart-attack later, he concludes that he forgot to lock his screen when he put the phone away earlier.
Which caused him to somehow end up on this random stranger's profile.
And go to his DMs.
And send him a GIF.
Not just any GIF. One of a grotesquely round and jiggly, animated ass. There's a text beneath the GIF. It reads: 2iggnag lg9gajdgka hfhdgjy.
"Aw, fuck!" Steve swears, neck prickling with heat as he types his reply.
Steve_Hairington: Shit, sorry. My ass typed that 😅
Batboy_Kas: Fitting choice of gif 🍑
Steve_Hairington: Yeah I guess
Batboy_Kas: You could say it's a ... smart ass
Steve snorts a laugh. What a dork! He's still debating if he should reply or leave it at that when Batboy_Kas sends his next message.
Batboy_Kas: So ... not even the tiniest chance you were flirting with me?
Steve_Hairington: Sorry dude. I prefer my men-
(He pauses to squint at the guy's profile pic. A cute little cartoon bat.)
-a little more human-shaped.
Batboy_Kas: Hey! That's just bc you've never had a creature of the night b4 🦇😉
Steve_Hairington: 🤣🤣🤣 Nice try, bat boy!
They end up texting (and flirting) regularly. Kas - named after some vampire dude from that dungeons and dipshits game Dustin enjoys - is a huge fantasy and music nerd, can keep up a string of banter for hours, and his dms quickly become the highlight of Steve’s days.
He knows better than to meet random faceless and nameless strangers from the internet, he really does. But when Kas says he's in town for work some two months later, Steve is a bit embarrassed at how fast he agrees to a date.
Kas doesn't really beat the vampire allegations when he shows up at their meeting point, skittish and nervous, clad in an oversized Metallica hoodie, drawn all the way over his head inspite of the sunny weather, dark shades obscuring his eyes.
He's cute, though. Sweet and almost shy without the distance and a screen between them, but still with that quick wit and edgy sense of humor Steve has come to like so much. A deep, rich voice that makes something inside Steve’s belly tingle, a hint of dark curls spilling out from his hood, and strong, calloused hands covered in rings, the edges of black tattoos disappearing into his sleeves. It makes Steve wanna take the stupid hoodie off him so that he can see all of him.
Which is exactly what he does when they take it to Kas's hotel room later that night. And God, the man is gorgeous. Dark, messy curls framing a pair of insanely dark brown eyes and the poutiest lips Steve has ever had the pleasure of kissing. An intricate web of tattoos that are just begging to be traced with his tongue.
Later, when they're lying together in an exhausted tangle of naked limbs and sweaty sheets, Steve snaps a photo and saves it as his phone background. He doesn't think much of it.
Until a week later, when Dustin opens his phone to read out a message while Steve is driving and starts shrieking so loudly they almost crash into a tree, bc why the fuck does Steve have a selfie of himself and Eddie Munson - frontman of the world famous metal band Corroded Coffin - on his phone and are you both naked, Steve???
Tagging some friends to share a brainworm of their own:
@cuips-not-cute @steddiecameraroll @postmodernau @oh-stars @steddie-island
@wynnyfryd @pennyplainknits @medusapelagia @hotluncheddie @sidekick-hero
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sunrenity · 5 days ago
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⟡ㅤㅤCOMPASSㅤ┈─ㅤ엔하이픈
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( 🎞 )ㅤㅤi might get lost without you
precis : you're their compass.
엔하이픈ㅤ୨୧ㅤenhypen x 𝒻em readerㅤ..ㅤest relationship, tooth-rotting fluffㅤ/ㅤidol au! for heeseung, 600-700 words per memberㅤㅤ( 4883 )
zehra's note.ㅤmight be in my thenbhd era
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LEE HEESEUNG
the world was always loud around lee heeseung. the chaos of his daily life—practices, interviews, schedules—felt like a hurricane he could never quite escape. yet somehow, in the midst of it all, you were his constant.
heeseung always said you were like his north star.
“it’s cheesy,” he’d chuckle, running a hand through his hair as you sat across from him in your tiny favorite café. his face would light up in the way it always did when he teased you, dimples pressing deep into his cheeks. “but i mean it. without you, i’d just... drift.”
today was no different. you were seated together at a secluded corner table, the kind he requested specifically so no one would recognize him. a cup of steaming caramel latte sat untouched between his hands, growing colder by the second as he focused entirely on you. his gaze was warm, dark eyes soft as they traced your every move.
“you’re staring again, heeseung,” you teased, peering over the rim of your cup.
“can’t help it,” he admitted easily, leaning closer. his elbows rested on the table as his face inched toward yours, the faintest scent of his cologne lingering in the air. ���you’re the only thing that makes sense these days.”
the weight of his words hung heavy between you, but not uncomfortably so. you knew what he meant, even if he wasn’t saying it outright. he didn’t need to. heeseung had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. every stolen glance, every gentle touch, every unspoken smile—it all told you the same story.
he needed you.
and it wasn’t in the dramatic, overbearing way some might imagine. heeseung wasn’t looking for someone to fix him or carry his burdens. he just needed you to remind him that amidst the chaos, there was still something real. something steady. something that felt like home.
“i think you give me too much credit,” you murmured, setting your drink down and meeting his gaze head-on.
“not possible,” he countered without missing a beat. “you’re the reason i know which way to go, even when i feel lost. like that time—”
he paused, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“what?” you prompted, leaning in slightly.
“remember the night before the showcase? when i was freaking out about forgetting the choreography?”
you nodded, vividly recalling the way he had paced back and forth in his living room, muttering steps under his breath until his voice cracked from exhaustion.
“you didn’t even flinch,” he continued, the fondness in his tone evident. “you just sat there, listening, and then dragged me out for ice cream at 2 a.m. like it was the most normal thing in the world.”
you laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “you needed to get out of your own head. that’s all.”
heeseung shook his head, his smile widening. “no, i needed you.”
it wasn’t the first time he’d said it, and you doubted it would be the last. but every time he did, it felt like a little thread tying you closer to him, weaving your lives together in a way that felt impossible to undo.
“you know,” he said after a moment, reaching across the table to brush his fingers against yours, “i don’t tell you enough how much i appreciate you.”
your breath hitched slightly at the tenderness in his voice. it was rare for heeseung to let his walls down completely, but when he did, it always felt like a privilege to witness.
“you don’t have to,” you replied, curling your fingers around his. “i already know.”
he smiled then, the kind of smile that made you feel like the most important person in the world.
in that moment, you realized that being his compass didn’t mean guiding him to a destination. it meant being the place he could return to, no matter how far he wandered. and as his fingers tightened around yours, you knew you’d be that for him—always.
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PARK JONGSEONG
it was almost comical how park jay always seemed to know what he was doing. he was the kind of person who made the world look effortless, like he had it all figured out. from his perfectly timed jokes to the confident way he carried himself, people assumed he never faltered. but you knew better. 
beneath the cool exterior, jay was just as lost as anyone else. maybe even more so. 
he’d told you that once, late one autumn night as the two of you sat on the hood of his car. the air was crisp, tinged with the earthy smell of fallen leaves, and the sky stretched endlessly above you, scattered with stars. jay’s jacket was draped over your shoulders, warm and slightly oversized, while he leaned back, one leg propped up on the bumper and the other dangling lazily. 
“i don’t know where i’m going half the time,” he admitted, his voice low and quiet, like the confession wasn’t meant to reach anyone but you. 
you turned to him then, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlight. his expression was unreadable, but you saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the kind he rarely let anyone see. 
“you always seem like you do,” you said softly. 
he chuckled, the sound dry and humorless. “that’s the trick, isn’t it? make it look like you’ve got it all together so no one bothers asking questions.” 
it was such a jay thing to say, and yet it broke your heart a little. because while everyone else saw the polished version of him, you saw the cracks. the uncertainty. the quiet ache of someone who was searching for something he couldn’t quite name. 
“you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 
he glanced at you then, his dark eyes locking onto yours like he was searching for something. and maybe he found it, because his shoulders relaxed just a little, and the corners of his mouth lifted in the faintest hint of a smile. 
“that’s why i need you,” he said simply. 
the words settled between you, heavy with meaning. you didn’t respond right away, unsure of how to articulate the warmth spreading through your chest. jay wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean, and you knew this was as close to a confession as he’d ever get. 
“where are we going tonight?” you asked instead, breaking the silence. 
he smiled then, a real one this time, and it was the kind of smile that made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. 
“does it matter?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you. 
you shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. “no, i guess it doesn’t.” 
and it was true. being with jay always felt like enough, no matter where you ended up. whether it was on an aimless drive through the city, sprawled out on the living room floor listening to records, or sitting in comfortable silence as the world moved on around you—he made every moment feel significant. 
maybe that’s why he called you his compass. not because you showed him where to go, but because you reminded him that the destination didn’t matter as long as he had you by his side. 
“you know,” he said suddenly, breaking your train of thought, “i think you’re the only person who gets me.” 
you turned to him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “that’s not true.” 
“it is,” he insisted, his gaze unwavering. “no one else makes me feel... grounded. like i’m not just floating around, waiting for something to happen.” 
there it was again—that honesty he reserved only for you. it was overwhelming at times, the way he opened up to you so completely, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 
“i’m glad i can be that for you,” you said finally, your voice soft but steady. 
he reached for your hand then, his fingers warm against yours despite the cool night air. his touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid you might pull away.
but you didn’t.
instead, you held on tighter, letting him know without words that you weren’t going anywhere. 
because if jay was lost, you’d be his guide. and if he ever doubted where he belonged, you’d remind him. 
you were his compass, after all. and he was your home.
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SIM JAEYUN
jake was always moving. whether it was the way he gestured enthusiastically as he spoke or how he could never stay in one place for too long, there was a restless energy to him that you couldn’t help but admire. he was a whirlwind of spontaneity, someone who craved adventure and thrived on the unknown. 
but even whirlwinds need somewhere to land. 
jake often joked that you were his anchor. 
“if i didn’t have you, i’d probably end up in the middle of nowhere without a clue how i got there,” he’d say, laughing as he tossed his arm around your shoulders. the way he looked at you, though, made you think there was more truth to it than he let on. 
today was one of those rare moments when jake wasn’t moving. you sat together at the edge of a quiet lake, its surface rippling gently in the breeze. the sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the water and painting the world in warm, honeyed hues. 
jake leaned back on his elbows, legs stretched out in front of him as he gazed at the horizon. his golden-brown hair glinted in the light, messy from the wind, and his lips curved into a soft smile as he turned to you. 
“do you ever feel like you’re not sure where you’re going?” he asked suddenly, his voice quieter than usual. 
you glanced at him, caught off guard by the question. jake was usually so sure of himself, so carefree. but in that moment, there was a vulnerability in his expression that made your heart ache. 
“sometimes,” you admitted, pulling your knees to your chest. “but i think that’s normal.” 
he nodded, his gaze drifting back to the water. “it’s just... sometimes it feels like no matter how far i go or how many places i see, i’m still looking for something i can’t find.” 
there was a pause, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but filled with unspoken thoughts. 
“and when you’re with me?” you asked softly. 
jake’s head snapped toward you, his eyes widening slightly as if he hadn’t expected the question. but then his expression softened, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at his lips. 
“when i’m with you,” he said, his voice steady, “it feels like i’ve already found it.” 
your breath caught at the sincerity in his tone. jake had always been charming, always quick with a joke or a playful comment, but this was different. this was real. 
“jake...” 
he sat up then, leaning closer until his face was mere inches from yours. his dark eyes searched yours, warm and steady despite the uncertainty he’d just confessed. 
“you’re the only thing that makes sense,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “even when everything else feels... chaotic.” 
it wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, but it was the first time it felt so raw, so open. jake wasn’t one to dwell on heavy emotions, but when it came to you, he never held back. 
“maybe that’s because you’re always running,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “you don’t give yourself time to just be.” 
jake chuckled, the sound soft and warm. “maybe. but if i stopped running, i wouldn’t have found you.” 
the weight of his words settled over you, wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket. jake had a way of saying things that made you feel like the most important person in the world, like you were the reason the stars hung in the sky. 
“besides,” he added, a playful glint returning to his eyes, “you’re the one who keeps me on track. my compass, remember?” 
you rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “you’re ridiculous.” 
“ridiculously lucky,” he shot back, leaning in to nudge your shoulder with his. 
you laughed, the sound echoing across the lake, and jake’s smile widened in response. in that moment, it didn’t matter where he was going or what he was searching for. all that mattered was that he was here, with you, and for once, the restlessness inside him had quieted. 
because with you, jake didn’t feel lost. he felt found.
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PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon wasn’t someone who expressed himself easily. words didn’t come naturally to him, at least not the kind that bared his heart. but you’d always known how to read between the lines, to find meaning in the silences where others might see emptiness. 
he said it once, offhandedly, that you were like his compass. 
“i just... think better when you’re around,” he’d muttered, his voice quiet as his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his jacket. his cheeks had turned a faint pink as he avoided your eyes, but the admission lingered, warm and sweet. 
now, standing at the edge of a frozen lake, you watched sunghoon skate effortlessly across the ice. he moved like the winter wind—graceful, sure, yet untouchable. the early evening light glinted off the smooth surface, painting his figure in soft shades of gold and blue. 
you stood bundled in your coat and scarf, shivering slightly as you watched him circle back toward you. he stopped a few feet away, the blades of his skates slicing cleanly into the ice, sending a spray of frost into the air. 
“cold?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern. 
“a little,” you admitted, smiling as you rubbed your gloved hands together. “but it’s worth it to see you like this. you’re amazing out there.” 
his gaze flickered down, and for a moment, you thought you saw a hint of a smile on his lips. sunghoon wasn’t one for grand reactions, but you’d learned to notice the small ones—the way his shoulders relaxed when you complimented him, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you. 
“come here,” he said, holding out his hand. 
you hesitated, glancing at your boots. “i’m not exactly a skating prodigy like you, sunghoon. i’ll probably fall on my face.” 
his lips twitched upward, the faintest ghost of a smile. “i won’t let you.” 
something about the quiet confidence in his voice made you believe him. tentatively, you reached for his hand, and he pulled you gently onto the ice. his touch was firm but careful, as if he were afraid of hurting you. 
“just relax,” he said, his other hand coming to rest lightly on your waist. “i’ve got you.” 
and he did. as he guided you across the ice, his movements slow and deliberate, you felt the tension in your body melt away. the world around you faded, leaving only the quiet sound of skates gliding and the warmth of his hands steadying you. 
“you make this look so easy,” you said, glancing up at him. 
“it’s not as hard as it looks,” he replied, his tone calm. “you just have to trust yourself.” 
you raised an eyebrow. “is that what you do?” 
his lips curved slightly, a soft laugh escaping him. “sometimes.” 
the honesty in his voice surprised you. sunghoon rarely admitted to uncertainty—it wasn’t his style. but in moments like this, when it was just the two of you, he let his guard down in a way that made your heart ache. 
“hey,” you said gently, squeezing his hand. “you don’t have to have it all figured out, you know.” 
he looked at you then, his dark eyes meeting yours. for a moment, it felt like the whole world had gone still. 
“you make it easier,” he said softly. 
the words were simple, but the weight behind them wasn’t lost on you. sunghoon wasn’t someone who spoke in grand declarations or flowery phrases, but when he said something, he meant it. 
“you’re my compass,” he added after a pause, his voice quieter now. “even when i don’t know where i’m going, i know i’ll be okay as long as you’re with me.” 
your chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in his words. this was the sunghoon only you got to see—the boy who felt deeply but struggled to express it, who showed his love in actions rather than words. 
“i’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady. “i promise.” 
his lips twitched again, and this time the smile reached his eyes. it was small, almost shy, but it was real. 
“good,” he said, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. 
together, you continued to glide across the ice, his hand never leaving yours. and in that moment, it didn’t matter where the world took him or how lost he might feel at times. because no matter what, you’d be there to guide him. 
just as he always guided you.
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KIM SUNOO
sunoo had a way of brightening every space he entered. it wasn’t just the brilliance of his smile or the warmth in his eyes—it was something deeper, something unexplainable. he carried an energy that made you feel like, no matter how lost you were, everything was going to be okay. 
but even someone like sunoo had his shadows. 
the two of you walked side by side along a winding path in the park, the world around you cloaked in a soft, rolling fog. the trees loomed like quiet sentinels, their skeletal branches weaving into the pale gray sky. your breath puffed out in faint clouds, mingling with the damp air, and the faint crunch of leaves beneath your boots was the only sound breaking the silence. 
sunoo was quiet today. 
it wasn’t like him. normally, he’d fill the space with chatter—little stories about his day, playful teasing, or random observations that made you laugh. but now, his hands were shoved into his pockets, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. 
“sunoo?” you said softly, glancing at him. 
he hummed in acknowledgment, but he didn’t meet your gaze. 
“is everything okay?” 
for a moment, he didn’t answer. the fog seemed to press in closer, the world shrinking around you. then he sighed, the sound soft and almost hesitant. 
“do you ever feel like... like you’re not enough?” he asked, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. 
the question hit you like a sudden gust of wind, unexpected and disorienting. sunoo—the boy who radiated confidence and joy—felt this way? 
“sunoo,” you said gently, stopping in your tracks. he paused too, turning to face you with a tentative look in his eyes. 
“you’re more than enough,” you said firmly. 
he blinked, surprised by the conviction in your voice. “you don’t understand,” he murmured, looking away. “sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard i try, i’m always falling short. like... like i’m just faking it, and one day, everyone’s going to realize.” 
his words trailed off, and you saw the vulnerability etched into his expression. it broke your heart to see him like this, so uncertain, so fragile. 
“you’re not faking it,” you said, stepping closer. “you’re incredible, sunoo. you’re kind and thoughtful, and you make people feel seen and loved in a way no one else can.” 
he opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. 
“and even when you’re feeling like this—when you’re doubting yourself—you’re still enough. more than enough.” 
sunoo stared at you, his eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. then, slowly, a small, almost hesitant smile broke across his face. 
“you always know what to say,” he said softly. 
you shook your head, returning his smile. “it’s not about knowing what to say. i just know you. and i know how special you are, even if you don’t see it right now.” 
the fog around you seemed to lighten, the world growing a little brighter. sunoo’s smile grew, and this time, it reached his eyes, chasing away the lingering shadows. 
“thank you,” he said quietly. 
“you don’t have to thank me,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “just... let me remind you whenever you forget, okay?” 
he nodded, squeezing your hand gently. “okay.” 
the two of you started walking again, the path ahead still shrouded in mist but somehow feeling less daunting. sunoo’s hand stayed in yours, his grip warm and steady. 
you were his compass, even if he didn’t realize it. and just like he lit up the world for everyone else, you’d be the light that guided him through his darkest moments. 
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YANG JUNGWON
jungwon was a quiet storm. he wasn’t loud or overly expressive, but everything about him carried a subtle intensity—a calm, steady rhythm that grounded you when the world felt chaotic. 
you often thought of him as the anchor that kept you steady. but if you asked him, he’d say the same about you. 
it was a rare rainy afternoon, the kind where the sky was more silver than gray, and the soft patter of raindrops created a soothing melody against the windows. the two of you sat on the floor of his small living room, a blanket draped over your shoulders as you shared the space in easy silence. the warm glow of a single lamp painted everything in soft hues, turning the mundane into something quietly magical. 
jungwon sat across from you, his legs crossed and his fingers absently toying with the edge of the blanket you shared. his dark hair was slightly mussed, and his sweater looked a size too big, the sleeves brushing his knuckles as he moved. 
“what are you thinking about?” you asked, breaking the silence. 
his gaze flickered up to meet yours, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile. “you always ask me that.” 
“because you always look like you’re lost in thought,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your foot. 
he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, like the first sip of hot tea on a cold day. “maybe i just like thinking when i’m with you.” 
the casual sincerity of his words made your breath catch. that was the thing about jungwon—he didn’t need grand gestures or flowery words to make you feel special. he did it in the little things, the quiet moments. 
“what about right now?” you pressed gently. “what are you thinking about right now?” 
he hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands. for a moment, you thought he might deflect, but then he surprised you. 
“i was thinking about how... steady everything feels when you’re here,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “like, no matter what’s going on, i know i’ll be okay if i’m with you.” 
your heart swelled at his confession, and you leaned forward, resting your chin on your knees as you watched him. “jungwon...” 
he glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “you’re my compass,” he continued, his voice steadier now. “you remind me where i’m supposed to be, even when i start to lose track of myself.” 
the honesty in his words left you momentarily speechless. jungwon wasn’t the type to bare his emotions so openly, but when he did, it was with a quiet strength that left no room for doubt. 
“you’re where you’re supposed to be,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “and you’re doing just fine, jungwon. more than fine.” 
he exhaled a quiet laugh, his fingers tightening around yours. “i don’t always feel that way.” 
“that’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “you don’t have to have it all figured out. that’s what i’m here for, remember?” 
his smile widened, and for a moment, the room felt warmer, brighter. jungwon had a way of making the simplest moments feel profound, as if the world slowed down just for the two of you. 
“thank you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. 
“for what?” you asked, tilting your head. 
“for being you,” he said simply. 
the rain continued to fall outside, its rhythm steady and soothing. and as you sat there, your hands entwined and the world quiet around you, you realized that jungwon wasn’t just your anchor—he was the steady rhythm you didn’t know you needed. 
and you? you were his compass, guiding him gently back to himself every time he lost his way.
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NISHIMURA RIKI
riki wasn’t one to say what he felt outright. his emotions weren’t something he wore on his sleeve, nor did he hand them out freely to the world. to most people, he was an enigma—a mix of sharp wit and quiet confidence, always keeping others at arm’s length. 
but not with you. 
you had a way of getting past his defenses, slipping through the cracks in his armor like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. you didn’t push or pry; you simply stayed, steady and unwavering, until he let you in. 
tonight, the two of you found yourselves at the edge of the city, sitting on the hood of his car with the skyline sprawled out below. the faint hum of distant traffic filled the cool night air, and the stars above blinked faintly against the darkness. 
riki leaned back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out before him. his dark hair fell loosely over his forehead, and the soft glow of the city lights painted his sharp features in shades of silver and gold. he was quiet tonight, his usual playful banter replaced by a contemplative stillness. 
“you’ve been quiet,” you remarked, glancing over at him. 
he smirked faintly, tilting his head to look at you. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.” 
“it’s not,” you replied, your lips curving into a small smile. “just unusual.” 
he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “guess i’ve got a lot on my mind.” 
you waited, giving him the space to continue if he wanted to. with riki, patience was key. he wasn’t someone who spilled his thoughts easily, but when he did, it was worth every second of the wait. 
“i’ve been thinking about us,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. 
the admission caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat. “oh?” you said softly, your gaze locking onto his. 
he sat up then, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared out at the skyline. “i’ve always been good at figuring things out—what i want, where i’m going. but with you...” he trailed off, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched for the right words. 
“with me?” you prompted gently. 
“with you, it’s different,” he said, turning to meet your eyes. “you make me feel... anchored. like no matter where i’m going, it doesn’t matter as long as you’re there.” 
the vulnerability in his voice sent a wave of warmth through you. riki wasn’t someone who opened up easily, and hearing him say those words felt like he was handing you a piece of his heart. 
“you know,” you began, a soft smile tugging at your lips, “you’re not as hard to figure out as you think.” 
he raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “oh, really?” 
“really,” you said, leaning slightly closer. “you act all cool and aloof, but deep down, you care more than you let on. you just don’t like showing it.” 
his smirk widened, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “you think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” 
“pretty much,” you teased, your smile growing. 
he shook his head, but the amusement in his expression was unmistakable. “you’re something else, you know that?” 
“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you quipped, your tone light. 
“it is,” he said quietly, his voice taking on a more serious note. “you make me... better. i don’t know how else to say it, but you do. you’re like my compass or something. you remind me where i’m supposed to be, even when i lose sight of it myself.” 
the sincerity in his words made your chest tighten. for all his teasing and confidence, riki had a depth to him that he didn’t show to just anyone. but here, under the vast expanse of the night sky, he was letting you see it. 
“you’re not as lost as you think you are,” you said softly, your gaze steady. “but i’ll always be here, just in case you need reminding.” 
for a moment, he didn’t say anything. then, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours before entwining them together. his grip was firm, steady, but there was a gentleness to it that made your heart flutter. 
“good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “because i don’t think i ever want to figure things out without you.” 
the city lights continued to shimmer in the distance, the hum of the world fading into the background. and as the two of you sat there, hand in hand, it was clear that neither of you needed a map or a plan. 
because wherever you went, you’d always be his true north.
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ellecdc · 11 days ago
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saw the blurbs rq post and immediately need
“i never knew i could feel this loved.”
w barty 🙏🙏🙏🙏
ugh friggen barty - I’ve missed him! Also sorry if it’s not too good, I wrote it on my phone. That means I also have no idea how long it is!! Thanks for the prompt 🫶
Barty Crouch Junior x Potter!reader who are at the manor over the school break
CW: touch starved barty (don’t worry, he gets touched), talking about grounding exercises, fluff
The school matron always told Barty to recite the “grounding lists” to help when things got to be too much.
What a load of rubbish. Who in the hells can recite 5 things they can see, 4 things they can hear, 3 things they can feel, 2 things they can smell, and 1 thing they can taste when they’re having a bloody fucking meltdown?
Not him, that’s for damn sure.
The only time Barty could imagine being able to do that was when he was already grounded.
Like now.
From his position on the sofa, laying on his stomach and situated between your legs with his face on your stomach, he could:
See
The plush, red velvet loveseat of the living room in your family home
The great expanse of pictures that hung along the walls of your living room
The half empty bowl of crisps the two of you had been sharing as you watched a movie
The throw blanket in a heap on the floor that the two of you kicked off of your intertwined forms
And the muggle tell-a-vision that was stuck on some fuzzy popcorn type screen because the two of you were too lazy to turn it off now that the movie was over
Hear
The low, staticky popcorn sound that the telly was making
The sound of your heart beat; so full of love that Barty swore it beat louder than anyone else’s
The distant sound of your parents laughing and conversing somewhere else in the manor
The sound of his thumb brushing over the space where the sleeve of your jumper gave way to the skin of your wrist
Feel
The rise and fall of your chest with every breath that you took
The fabric of the cashmere jumper he bought for you under his cheek
The warmth of your hand where it rested in his hair
Smell
The cinnamon and nutmeg candle you lit before the movie
The unmistakeable smell of you that Barty could never get enough of
And as he ran his tongue over his lips, he could still taste you from when you’d pressed a kiss to his lips before getting comfortable.
“Barty?” You whispered as though you weren’t sure he was still awake.
“Yes, my beautiful darling angel?”
You were quiet for a moment, and Barty could tell you were smiling to yourself.
“What are you thinking about?”
He lifted his head to rest his chin on your stomach so he could look at you; your hair was rather rumpled from the throw pillows, your eyes were clearly more than a little heavy, and Barty was sure that if you were alone, you’d probably be asleep by now. But you seemed to be putting 100% of your energy and effort into the loving gaze you were shooting at him, and Barty wondered - not for the first time - what in the hells he ever did to deserve you.
“I never knew I could feel this loved.” He admitted.
You froze for a moment; the breath you were in the middle of taking paused on its way out as your brows furrowed minutely before you expertly schooled your expression.
“Yeah?”
Barty hummed in agreement and pressed a kiss to your sternum.
“That’s funny,” you said as he lowered his cheek back onto your stomach, “I was just thinking the same thing.”
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yandere-romanticaa · 4 days ago
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I really enjoy the idea of a man like Ayato going into a tea house for some fine entertainment. The entire event is primarily disguised as a business dinner, but the Yashiro Commissioner knows better. He has been rubbing shoulders with this type crowd ever since he was a tiny lad. Besides, the eagerness which his dignitaries display is far too obvious to hide. They cover their grins behind their long sleeves, eyes gleaming with excitement and thrill at the thought of tonight's prospects.
Truthfully, Ayato was just as much of a savage beast as the men around him.
The key difference was that he was better in concealing his more perverse nature.
With a serene smile Ayato enjoyed the show, his eyes never leaving your figure, not even once. It was obvious that you were new amongst the girls, their saccharine grins far too picture perfect to be natural. You swished and swayed your body to the soft drums, making extra sure to highlight the best parts of your body as the table filled with customers in front of you cheered each of you all on, happily tossing shiny Mora in the air.
It was so hard to focus under Ayato's gaze. You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was. After the dance the ladies from the establishment cornered you, asking you questions on what the nature of your relationship was with the handsome commissioner. They advised you to stay docile and sweet in his presence, that you should never make a fuss and by doing so, not only will you never go hungry ever again, all sorts of doors could open up as well.
As expected, Ayato had ended up summoning you for a private show.
It was a very hush hush affair, with him being the only person in the room. He greeted you with tea, cakes and all sorts of tiny gifts which he had prepared before hand. By the end of the evening, you were no better than honey in his hands, hanging onto his every single word and whim, catering to his every desire he could come up with, no matter how small or silly it may be.
Ayato found himself enjoying how free you were, how open you were with your heart and desires. It was refreshing, like sweet spring air after a dark storm and he soaked it up like a sponge. The entire nature of this relationship was also beyond thrilling as it allowed him to unwind after a long and hard day of work.
However, he knew better than anyone that most things in life don't last forever. He could continue to play coy only for so long and since Ayato was not in the mood for games, he decided the best course of action to take was to just buy you out. He had the money and you would surely enjoy the comfort he would provide for you.
It was an ideal situation, truly.
He sat you down and shared his plans, eager to see a happy grin on your face as you chant Thank you, Master Ayato! over and over, as you tripped on your feet in a rush to embrace him.
Ayato typically likes surprises. They keep things fun and interesting, but the one you told him was anything but.
With confidence, you told him that you had no desire to stop working in this place, shamelessly admitting that you enjoyed making the various clientele satisfied with your services, regardless of how dirty it could be. The freedom, the pleasure, it was too much to give up.
His lips formed into a wicked little grin as his felt his heart beat through his chest. In a way, he admired your attitude. It was dazzling just how bold you had become and how you were so unafraid of him.
After that night, you figured that you would never see the man ever again.
Days went on, customers came and went and there was no sign of your dazzling commissioner. That did not stop the whispers and rumors from spreading like wildfire, particularly from the more devious or jealous women which you worked with. Venom would coat their words as they would eagerly remind you of just how you had cost them one of, if not the best customer in the entire nation.
It was difficult to tell whether or not they were celebrating this fact of it they were legitimately upset with you. However, this storm would soon come to pass, or so you had hoped. You always found it a little odd how Master Ayato had just left you to your own devices, how he hadn't bothered to pull any strings or just flat out threaten you for disobeying him. Most men in his position could afford such a luxury because the fallout would be next to none.
It would cost him nothing to just toss you onto the cold, dark street like a wet dog. He would not even need to break a single sweat to make you fall apart.
But your pride was too strong. It burned deep in your belly, the desire to spread your wings and do as you wished. Mora was the key to solve all of your problems and in due time, more than enough was going to be saved for any possible endeavor of yours. On several different occasions you had confessed to Master Ayato that you had wished to buy better make up, prettier clothes and a better house than you had already owned. Not to mention your unyielding wish to explore the world, to see step foot into each nation and see their glory with your own two eyes. You wished to sip on fine Mondstatd wine, to see the bright lanterns in Liyue, to watch the night sky in Snezhnaya.
And he had listened patiently to you, soaking in each word. He would pat you across the head or pinch your cheek and mutter how one day he was sure that all of that would come true.
People always did say that a person ought to be careful for what they wished for. Why?
Because they might just get their wishes granted.
On a chilly autumn morning, shouts rang loudly from outside of your establishment. Confusion was written on everyone's faces as they stared at the main entrance, trying to figure out who was causing the commotion.
Suddenly, the door was kicked down with such brute force that you could not even gasp, the wood simply breaking away from the hinges. Soldiers in armour filled the room, weapons in hand as they shouted about some arrests being made.
It was hard to focus with the commotion around you.
The soldiers were brutes, kicking away and smashing everything in sight. Fine paintings and scrolls were all over the floor like trash, the dashing kimonos and dresses snatched from their stations by feebleminded men, none of which cared for your safety and security.
Cries filled the air the head of the establishment was dragged by two soldiers, their arms wrapped tightly around the woman as she begged and pleaded for mercy, forgiveness and everything in-between. The pristine makeup she had so tirelessly worked on was but a fleeting memory, leaving only large traces of inky black mascara falling down her pale cheeks and messy blood red lipstick strewn across her tiny lips.
It felt like a nightmare come to life.
Like a vicious snake, a handsome man in white garbs had slithered inside the room, his steps so quiet that not even the wind could sense him coming. He clapped a few times, the pristine glove on his hands shining underneath the morning sun as the Yashiro Commissioner stared down each person in the room, his sea blue eyes laced with mock pity.
His voice filled the air to a suffocating degree, so much so that it made you choke on your own breath. There he was, Kamisato Ayato in the flesh, standing proud and strong, like an untouchable arrow seeking its target. He was so charming, so convincing that if you hadn't known better, you too would have bought into his lies.
How could someone so handsome be so adept at spewing such filth? Even as he accused your boss of various crimes, his voice was nothing less than kind and concerned.
He felt less like a man and more like a god. A twisted blend of mercy and cruelty who had been brought down from the heavens to cast judgment on mere mortals such as yourself.
In a flash, his eyes locked in on yours and it was all too clear on what he was aiming for. His gaze was deceitfully sweet but underneath that handsome gaze was an ever growing desire to seek, trap and possibly even maim.
Ayato always thought of himself as at least somewhat of a civil man but not even he was immune to the most basic of human desires. Each man who walked the earth was a beast, it just took some longer to wake up and realize that truth.
Kamisato Ayato had bared his fangs and shot you a grin, not even shying away from his true motives. He never lied when he said that he thought that your dreams were going to come true one day.
He merely left out the part that he was going to be the one who would get you there.
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narryffdreaming · 2 months ago
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lia and harry's story (one)
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summary: harry is a bartender and lia lives right across the street. rating: +18 || warnings: mental health (anxiety) and smut (here and there) || word count: 14,7k
some scenes are different. some scenes are still the same. but here they are again.
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“Rohan isn’t working tonight.”
The toneless, husky voice echoed in the dim lights, and Lia’s heart skipped a beat as she whipped her head to her left.
Harry walked past her and towards the sink, too occupied carrying a box under one of his arms. When he stopped, he turned his back to where she was and placed the item on the laminated counter, then put his free hand into his pocket and pulled a utility knife, not wasting any other second before using it to tore the cardboard in half. 
Lia’s belly fluttered. 
White t-shirt, black pants. Sleeves short enough for her to admire the multiple tattoos covering his arms, and fabric tight enough for her to follow the movements of the muscles on his back as he pulled a few napkins and straws out of the box. 
She only needed a second for things to click inside her, and for her to remember why she decided to go to The Wandering Triplet in the first place. 
Harry’s unkempt dark brown hair curled on top of his head and also a little bit to the sides, but it seemed shorter on the back. He had clearly gotten a haircut since last week, when she last saw him at the bar, and even though Lia couldn’t see his face, she already knew that it suited him. 
She knew that he looked good. 
Really good.
No, she knew that he looked great. 
Unfairly and painfully handsome. 
Like a dream. 
Like he always did. 
Lia sighed. 
Harry grabbed the box with one hand and turned around, briefly glancing at her. He didn’t say nor did a thing, seemingly completely unamused by her presence as he looked forward and headed back towards the black curtain. 
And that’s exactly when it hit her: she still hadn’t said anything to him.
Nothing.
Not even a word.
Oh my God.
A flush of heat creeped up through the back of Lia’s neck, and her belly turned into knots. 
She shifted on her feet, straightening up and pulling her elbows closer to her body as she watched him disappear behind the thick black fabric.
Rohan isn’t working tonight. 
Rohan isn’t working tonight. 
Rohan isn’t working tonight.
Lia frowned. 
Why did he even… Ugh. 
Of course Rohan wasn’t working that night. It wasn’t something hard to figure out—she had been to The Wandering Triplet more than enough times to realize that on Wednesday Rohan always started his shift later at night, meaning that Harry always opened the bar by himself. 
Besides, why did he have to start a conversation with her like that? Why couldn’t he just have said something simple like… Hello? 
She pulled the loose sleeves of her cardigan and covered her fingers, then crossed her arms against her stomach and scanned the three shelves at the back wall. Honestly, entertaining any useless thoughts was better than overthinking Harry’s actions. She didn’t have the strength inside her to try and understand his dislike for her. Not anymore. She had already given up on that a long time ago. All she wanted was to get something to drink, get comfortable on a table, and daydream a little before going back home and dealing with all the very real consequences of that pathetic and useless day. 
Lia shook her head. 
Ugh.
White rum… White rum… Where’s the white rum? 
Since she’d walked into The Wandering Triplet for the first time, Lia had stared at those shelves long enough to realize they had a system to place everything. The one at the bottom was filled with different types of glasses, all upside-down, while the other two above were used to perfectly organize rows of many different types of alcohol.
When it came to the bottles, the still unopened ones and also the most expensive brands were at the top, while the most commonly used were in the middle, closer to their reach. From left to right, they were also careful, matching not only by type, but also organizing by brands and colors.
Another sigh left her mouth, and Lia dropped her shoulders. She knew she’d agreed with her psychiatrist that she’d wait until her body got used to the new medication, but she could’ve really used a drink that day. Not just any drink, but a mojito—it was her favorite, and Harry always made the best one.
“Ok, then. What can I get you?”
Lia jumped slightly, batting her eyelashes and shifting her arms on the counter.
Harry stood next to her, cleaning the already-clean-bar. 
She recognized his white t-shirt as one of her favorites. The design, mixing palm trees and searchlights with shades of blue and green, reminded her of one summer she’d spent in Los Angeles with her family, and the faded orange words around it made her think of an old record store. 
Harry always looked cool with that t-shirt, especially when he matched it with those black wide-legged pants he was wearing right then. He looked like someone who could be in a band, like someone who could hold a guitar in front of a crowd and make people faint at the sight.
Not a popstar or rockstar, though. Nuh-uh. He was too snappy for that. 
If Harry were a musician, he would probably be part of an indie band. Or one of those groups people never heard of until they randomly shuffled through a rainy and foggy playlist on Spotify. 
And he’d definitely be the moody and mysterious bass player, bothered only by doing his own sound and ignoring all the screaming girls at his feet. 
Bass guitar player. Yes. That would be for sure—he had great hands, and they looked perfect for the four-stringed instrument.
Harry wiped the surface forcefully, then tightened his long fingers around the light-brown towel and threw the item over his shoulder. As he held it there with one hand, he finally faced her, grasping the edge of the counter with his other hand and stretching his arm. 
Leaf, intense, green eyes stared into her boring brown ones, and Lia’s heart skipped a beat. 
He was so pretty. 
So, so pretty. 
And to daydream and imagine things was fun, but Harry wasn’t in any indie band, nor even a musician. He was simply the sulky, pretentious bartender who worked across the street from her apartment. And the guy who she had the biggest and most stupid crush on.
Harry cleared his throat, raised his eyebrows, and flinched his chin down.
Damn.
Lia shifted on her feet. 
“It’s—I—I mean…” She shook her head and cleared her throat, too. “Sorry. Just water, I think? I—Yes. Water. Please.”
Harry rolled his eyes and turned around, scoffing quietly as he walked to the shelves. “Of course.”
Lia furrowed her brows and held her breath, watching him take his time while he put some distance between them. As if having to get her a simple glass of water was the most boring thing he could do. Or maybe the most annoying thing he could do. Or maybe the most tiring thing he could do. 
His reaction felt out of place, but she couldn’t be surprised, could she? After all, she was used to his awful mood, and she’d gotten really good at pretending it didn’t bother her—to the point where she almost believed it herself. 
In fact, to be honest, had it been any other day, she probably wouldn’t have even minded his behavior. She would’ve probably just accepted it and added it to the countless humiliating moments she’d lived so far. 
But it was the last thing she needed on that particular Wednesday evening, when everything had already turned out so shitty that she was both mentally and emotionally exhausted.
Lia exhaled through her nose and clenched her jaw. 
In less than eight hours, three people had already treated her with disdain and condescension, and four had made her feel inferior and weak. All she had done was to work on herself and try to step out of her comfort zone, like she promised Dr. Reisman she would do, and all she had gotten in return was… Nothing. 
So shame on her for needing some distraction, right? Shame on her for thinking that silently watching her crush from far away would help her forget about her stressful and dreadful day. Shame on her for believing that she would be able to feel at least slightly better after spending five minutes at the bar. 
A glass full of water emerged in front of her, and Lia blinked.
“There you go, princess.” Harry smiled, as blatantly sarcastic and careless as he could be, then turned around and walked back to the sink. 
Lia glared at him, tightening her hands into fists and letting her body be consumed by her heavy breathing. 
She hated when he looked at her like that. And she hated when he made her feel like a child. Harry almost never talked to her, but when he did, he seemed to always find a way to make her feel mocked or challenged to say something. Challenged to be different. Challenged to speak up. Challenged to react quicker. 
And Lia hated it. 
She truly hated it, because she wasn’t good with words. At all. And she was well aware of that. She was getting treatment because of that, for fucks sake! 
So she didn’t need anyone pointing out the obvious for her. And she didn’t need anyone making her feel even worse for not being able to actually get better. Or for constantly messing things up even though she desperately tried not to. 
Why… 
Why did it have to be so hard for her? 
And why did it have to be so hard all the damn time?
Why couldn’t she get things right? At least once in her life? 
And why on earth did she insist on nurturing that fruitless crush, anyway? 
Huh?
Why did she care about someone who didn’t know her at all? Someone who had never even tried to get to know her? 
Huh?
And also, why couldn’t Harry just let her be?
Why did he have to treat her that way?
What had she even done to him, huh? 
What had she done, besides moving across the street and being a regular customer at the bar? 
Huh? 
Huh?!!
Lia grabbed the glass in front of her and took a sip of water. Then another one, and another one. Desperately gulping down three quarters of it before putting it down on the counter again.
Harry was unbelievable.
Unbelievable!
The judgment behind every action and every word was completely unnecessary. 
So what if she was drinking water? Huh? Why did it matter? What difference did it make? She could drink whatever she wanted to, right? 
And why—why—calling her princess? What was the point? What did he even mean by that? 
Huh?
Huh?!?!
“Ok, look,” Harry said, standing in front of her with a frown on his face and arms crossed on his chest, “are you just going to stand there all night? Because I told you Rohan isn’t—”
“Oh my goodness!” Lia laughed, uncrossing her arms and taking a step back from the counter. “This is… I… You… I’m just… Ugh!”
She shook her head and looked down. Reaching for her bag, she watched her own movements as she put her hand inside it and rummaged through her things.
“I’ll go, okay? I’ll go,” she said, fishing around for her wallet. “But you know what, Harry? Considering I’ve been around here for almost a year now, and that so far you’ve never even cared to… I don’t know… At least know my name, you don’t need to try so hard to be an asshole to me all the time, y’know?” She found some cash laying around, then grabbed the notes firmly between her fingers and slammed them on the counter. “You’ve already earned the title.”
She turned around and gritted her teeth, feeling the heat reverberating through her skin as she mumbled, “Asshole.”
And then, she walked away, finally removing herself from the unneeded interaction and not even once daring to look back at his face. 
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For the next three weeks, Lia didn’t go to the bar. 
It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t intentional. She was busy, and life was happening. She went back to her parents house for a weekend, enjoyed the quietness of hometown, worked some extra hours, had dinner with her friends, took some alone time for herself, and then… Well, and then she also didn’t make any effort to go.
Because why would she, anyway?
“Excuse me.”
Someone shoved her, causing Lia to stumble on her feet and snap out of her mind. She looked to her side, apologizing for standing in the way while shuffling on her feet to keep her balance. 
Nobody seemed to care about her presence, though. Nor to have the slight idea of how much wondering it took before showing up again. Or to know that the last time she’d been there she’d called a bartender out for not knowing her name—and that she might’ve used the word asshole, too. 
Lia let her hair fall on her face and sighed. 
Things inside The Wandering Triplet were… Different.
Really different. 
For starters, it was way more packed than usual, more crowded than what she ever expected it to be. People stood everywhere, talking and laughing even louder than any other time. And she wasn’t sure the place had at least once smelled that much like beer and perfume. 
On top of that, two guys seemed to be playing live music, something she had definitely never seen there before. Just like a lot of the faces surrounding her right then and there.
She swallowed, then rubbed her neck. 
It was hard not to notice the way her body heat had risen. Or how her entire outfit suddenly seemed like a bad call—because, honestly, how was she supposed to not sweat under that black turtleneck? Or under the tight fabric of her jeans? Even her feet were burning up, buried in those damn leather boots.
And it wasn’t like Lia was incapable of dressing according to the situation. It was just that, well, how was she even supposed to imagine that the place would ever be so crowded?
Especially on a Monday night! 
C’mon!
Monday nights were always their quietest nights. So much so that they didn’t even require two bartenders working at the same time. 
And Lia knew that. It was exactly the whole reason why she had chosen to go back on that particular night: because Monday nights were Harry’s nights off. 
Or, well, at least they used to be Harry’s nights off.
Shit.
There was absolutely no way Rohan would be able to handle that chaos all by himself, right? 
So… 
Oh God. 
She was going to see him… Wasn’t she?
The whole therapy session, with all the planning and thinking about how she could go back there without actually having to face him, had been a complete waste of time. Right?
It had been for nothing. 
And a complete failure. 
Right? 
Right?!
Her stomach fluttered, then shot a soft tingling to her chest.
Shit.
She didn’t want to see him, though. Of course she didn’t. Not after she’d humiliated herself. 
So… She should’ve turned around and gone back home, right? Try it again on a different night, maybe. Or just find a different bar. 
Right?
Lia sighed, heavier this time. 
She couldn’t run away, though. The whole point of going to the bar again was to challenge her own thoughts and beliefs, so she couldn’t give up now. She had to try. 
Right?
Oh God.
Sliding her tongue through her lips, Lia put her hair behind her ears and focused on her destination, then squeezed her way in to make it to the counter and order herself a drink—just as she promised Dr. Reisman she would do. 
To navigate her body through so many strangers wasn’t an easy task, that’s for sure, but she eventually managed to push herself all the way across the room. Once she found herself closer to the counter, a man walked backwards, holding three beers between his hands. 
Lia turned sideways, giving him more room to walk without dropping anything. It also turned out to be the perfect opportunity for her to place one hand on the edge of the wooden bar, hold herself, and step onto the new empty space.
After that, everything felt mostly like a blur. 
Rohan was there, but he wasn’t alone. There was also a girl helping him out. A girl she hadn’t seen there before. Short, blonde hair. Long legs and arms. Tattoos on her shoulder and piercing on her nose. She handed him empty glasses and chatted excitedly, while he grabbed each with a smile and put them all back on the bottom shelf.
And then a tattooed arm abruptly flashed in front of her, and Lia lurched back. Barely catching the color of the towel being yanked in circles right next to her.
Someone yelled an order, another person called someone’s name, and another one shouted an ‘excuse me’ a couple of steps to her side. Pop acoustic covers were still playing in the back and someone dropped a couple of spoons behind the bar. 
Everything was happening at the same time. Right where she was. And yet all she could pay attention to was Harry’s figure coming to a stop in front of her.
Harry blinked once, then turned his head slightly to the side, shouting the words without removing his sea-green eyes from her. “Rohan! Lia is here!”
And just like that, Harry turned around and walked away.
And she was all by herself all over again.
Lia frowned. 
What…
Did he… 
Had Harry just called her name?
Lia is here. 
Lia is here.
That’s what he’d said, right?
Lia is here.
Her stomach fluttered.
Considering how the last thing she had said to him—besides calling him an asshole, of course—was that he didn’t know her name, that couldn’t be a coincidence… Right?
Right?!
“Lia, heyyy!" 
She lowered her gaze to the counter and furrowed her brows.
How the hell had Harry been able to do that? To disconcert her in a matter of two seconds?
Four words. That was it. That was all it had taken.
All because he had said her name.
After three weeks of not seeing him.
“Hey, are you okay?” 
Rohan stood in front of her with worried eyes and puzzled face, and Lia blinked. 
It took her a moment to realize she was still frozen in place, but she finally shook her head and looked up.
“Uh, yeah… I… Yes. Oh my God. Sorry. Yes.” She chuckled and waved her hand. “I just... Long day today. Sorry.”
Rohan nodded and smiled, too. “Gotcha. No worries! It’s nice to see you again! You look taller today.”
“Oh.” Lia leaned back and looked down at her feet, wiggling her toes inside her high heel leather boots. “Must be the shoes.” She shrugged. “Don’t wear them often.”
“You should. You look nice! So, what can I get ya? Let’s cheer you up after a long day, huh?”
Lia sighed, then cleared her throat.
Rohan’s energy was always loud. His brown eyes always sparkled with joy, and every time he smiled his entire face lit up. It definitely made it really easy to talk to him, mostly because he never gave her too much time to speak and be awkward. He moved forward, simply worrying about doing his job and constantly making sure everyone was having a good time. 
“Actually,” she said, “I don’t... I don’t know what I want. Maybe a cocktail, please? Nothing strong, though. I just… Yeah… I haven’t been drinking for a while, so... I think I’d rather be careful? You know? Sorry.”
Rohan tilted his head and grinned at her, watching her for a brief moment before he shook his head and chuckled.  
A flush creeped across Lia’s cheeks, and she bit the inside of her bottom lip.
“Of course!” He nodded, watching her as he took a step back and winked at her. “One minute, yeah?”
Rohan turned around and walked away, and Lia let the air out through her nose. 
Always the same thing. She just had to find a way to embarrass herself, didn’t she? 
Dropping her shoulders and peeking at her sides, she found Harry standing by the other end of the counter, chatting with the new bartender while they mixed a couple of drinks. 
He hadn’t changed much—or at all. The hair had probably been trimmed and he had clearly shaved at some point just to let his facial hair grow again, because his scruff looked just the same as three weeks ago. 
Even his t-shirt seemed to be the same one—until Lia noticed it actually had different writing and design. 
Her belly fluttered, just like it always did when she looked at him. And then, when she couldn’t decide if the fluttering was a good or bad feeling, her chest always tightened as well. 
It tightened with a mix of amazement, delight, frustration, and sadness. All at once. 
Because no matter how oblivious Harry was to it, he was the whole reason Lia had slowly become a regular at the bar. 
Sure, a great therapy session had led her to challenge herself and get a drink by herself. And then, that spur of the moment decision had taken her to the bar across the street—the only one that was open that night. 
But walking into the bar and meeting someone who would make her insides blaze wasn’t on her plans. And even considering challenging herself for a second time just a few days later definitely wouldn’t have happened if, that exact same night, she hadn’t met him.
Eleven months had gone by since that night, and yet Lia still winced every time she recalled it. 
Harry had taken her order, but hadn’t even smiled politely when doing so. He also hadn’t looked at least one bit excited about making the mojito she’d asked for (which later Lia thought tasted delicious, anyway). 
Even after that, no matter how many times she had stepped into the bar, he never even flinched when looking at her. Never. 
It was as if she didn’t even exist to him. 
So Lia had a crush on him, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. Harry had never hidden his lack of interest in getting to know her, so she knew he wasn’t into her. And she was fine with that. Really. 
She was fine with it. And she was more than used to it by now. Even if— 
“That’s Sage.”
Lia turned her head and straightened her back, only then noticing she’d been openly staring at the interaction between the two bartenders. 
“She just started, so Harry’s going over our signature drinks with her,” Rohan added, shrugging and smiling. “I know it can be hard to believe, but he’s pretty patient. A great guy once you get past the frown on his face.”
Lia smiled. She actually didn’t find that hard to believe at all, but she didn’t want Rohan to know how she really felt about his co-worker, or how much she had watched all along, so she didn’t share the thought with him. 
Instead, she glanced at the cocktail glass he’d placed on the counter and asked, “A martini?”
“Right!” Rohan slapped his open hand on the counter, as if bringing himself back to the conversation. “Apple martini, to be precise. Or, as some would say, appletini.”
Lia chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve had one of these before.”
“Hope you enjoy it, then.”
“I’m sure I will. Thank you, Rohan.”
He curled his lips into another bright and cheerful smile. “My pleasure. If you don’t like it, next one’s on me, yeah? So lemme know.”
“Okay.” Lia smiled and nodded, wrapping her fingers around the glass and pushing her weight off the counter. “I will.”
— — — — — 
Sitting by herself, Lia took the last sip of her melted apple martini just as the two young boys finished playing another pop song from their acoustic set. 
People clapped next to her, and she left the glass on the table to do the same, tilting her head and smiling at how cute and shy the pair looked on the stage. Despite the obvious age difference, they somehow reminded her of her students when they had to perform for the first time in front of an audience, which was probably why she kept feeling the need to pay attention to them and reassure them with her eyes—a way to let them know how well they were doing up there.
They thanked politely and introduced the next song, and Lia rested her chin on the palm of her hand, paying attention to the first few chords of a song she couldn’t recognize. 
Truthfully speaking, Lia was proud of herself. Even though the place was way more crowded than she was comfortable with, and even though she’d thought about leaving multiple times, she survived the thirty minutes she’d promised herself she would try to stay. 
So she knew she had already made some good progress, and that she could now go home without feeling guilty. 
She hadn’t failed. Not that night, at least.
As a gift to herself, she allowed her eyes to wander around the bar, trying to get a glimpse of Harry before she officially left. 
She found him behind the counter, of course, all focused while chatting with his two coworkers. He listened to whatever Rohan was saying, nodding along while pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. But then, something in the story caused him to widen his eyes and drop his hand to Sage’s shoulder, holding the shock on his face firmly for a moment before he finally threw his head back and laughed. Loudly. Bringing his free hand to his chest while his entire body seemed to shake. 
Lia’s belly fluttered, and she was pretty sure both of her lungs had stopped working. 
He was just so… Attractive. 
So hypnotizing. It was like she couldn’t take her eyes away from him.
And she knew how silly she was for it. For wanting him that bad. 
She knew it. But she couldn’t help it. 
She just couldn’t. 
A group of people approached the counter, and Rohan automatically got back into work mode, walking towards them. Harry and Sage were left behind, then, but they quickly seemed to engage into more conversation. Happy, interesting conversation. 
Jealousy sparked in her chest, but Lia still watched him with nothing but fascination. She watched the way he crossed his arms on his chest, and also the way he kept raising one of his hands to gesture whenever he talked to Sage. 
Lia is here. 
His words echoed inside her mind, and Lia knew, right then and there, that later at night she’d be in bed and think about the way he’d said her name. Over and over again.
She’d think about the way he treated the new girl, and she’d dream about him treating her like that, too. 
She knew it, because she’d been there before. Because after that first night at the bar, watching Harry became like a hobby to her. And because in the eleven months she’d been there, even though it hadn’t been that often, there had been a time when Lia used to see him with a woman at the bar. A girlfriend, perhaps. Someone who was obviously older than him, but just as tall, and had shoulder-length, perfectly straight, dark auburn hair. Someone who’d always seemed too elegant and sophisticated for The Wandering Triplet, and yet had never looked out of place. Effortlessly delicate and powerful at the same time. Someone who carried herself in a way that screamed confidence, as if she’d never known what it was like to feel insecure about herself. 
During those nights, when that woman used to be at the bar, Lia always stood a little bit afar, not wanting to be disrespectful to them, but still allowing herself to catch some glimpses of a completely different version of him. 
A more natural, vulnerable version. Where Harry would laugh so loud he would drop his head back, or peck her lips multiple times, and even caress her cheek in between customers. Where he would whisper in her ear, make her smile, and stare deeply into her eyes when she did all the talking. Where he would also walk her out of the bar holding her hand, or hug her waist when guiding them to his car. 
It was obvious to Lia — and probably to anyone who looked at them, to be honest — how much they appreciated each other’s company, and how much he cared for her. It was also very clear how much Harry enjoyed the affection. How much he enjoyed being touched and taken care of. 
And embarrassingly as it was, more than once Lia had woken up highly aware of dreaming about him. Recalling false, vivid memories of her replacing that woman, and of Harry touching and kissing her, instead.  
Lia shifted on her seat, withdrawing her chin from her hand and rolling her shoulders. Hoping to push those thoughts away, but also praying people never find out they even existed in the first place. 
Focusing her sight on them again, Lia caught Rohan walking back to Harry and Sage. He stood with his back turned to her, and the other two resumed their attention on whatever he had to say. 
She watched a little bit more, just to enjoy those couple minutes before she left. Music played in the background, and people chatted jazzily all around her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, though. She just couldn’t. 
So handsome.
Harry lifted one hand, pulling his short hair back and out of the way, and then crossed his arms again. He listened to Rohan, and to everything he had to say. He focused, nodded, and offered his own comments from time to time. Giving his co-worker all his attention, solely and purely. 
Until he drifted his sight to the side and met her stare. 
Lia held her breath and gulped down, freezing as his eyes settled inside hers. 
Oh God.
Her heart palpitated. And her breathing sped up. 
It was hard to be one hundred percent sure of what was happening when he was so far away, but it was also hard to have any doubts when he was so intense that she could feel him all through her body. And when he didn’t seem to make any attempt to avoid her gaze. Or move. Or look away. 
Oh my God. Oh my God. 
Oh my God!
A heavy and empty feeling spread in her stomach, and Lia looked away. 
What the hell was even happening?
What was she supposed to do?
Why was he looking at her?
Was he actually looking at her?
She glanced back at him, and their eyes instantly met again. 
He was still watching her. 
Lia closed her hands into fists, then forced herself to breathe. Deeply. Heavily. 
Harry lifted his eyebrows and tilted his chin down. 
It was an expression she’d seen before, and that it was enough to make every single one of her muscles quiver. 
She darted her eyes back to her empty drink and blinked. 
What the hell? 
To have him staring back at her felt even worse than him saying her name or her calling him an asshole. It was like breaking the fourth wall. It was like acknowledging her existence. And Lia didn’t know what to do with that.
She rummaged for something, but it was as if her thoughts weren’t there anymore. As if her brain stopped functioning and she went completely blank.
And just like that, before she could give herself a pep talk and calm herself down, Lia had already pushed her chair away from the table and ran to the door. Stepping outside and away from the bar. 
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Curiosity killed the cat.
Or at least that was what one of Lia’s teachers always used to say. And also what crossed her mind on Friday night, when she walked into The Wandering Triplet followed by Jillie and Molly.
“Ohhh, I like this place,” Molly said, coming to a stop right behind the other two. 
“Yeah!” Jillie nodded, then linked her arm with Lia’s. “I can see why you like it here. Feels kinda cozy. Intimate.”
Lia’s mouth twitched with a smile, and she took one hand up to put her hair behind her ear. 
Dr. Reisman was so right about it. 
Going through life without opening up and sharing things wasn’t working for her. Not anymore. And yeah, it sucked that she had needed a push from her therapist and the assignment of a new task to do it, but at least she’d told them about it. 
At least she wasn’t keeping it all to herself anymore. 
“I’m glad you like it,” Lia offered, looking around and taking the place in. 
It didn’t feel too crowded this time, not yet at least. On her left side, most tables were occupied, and an older man was performing on the same tiny stage the two boys were playing the other night—his low, raspy voice blending with the soft chatting and laughing of customers. 
To her right, though, only a few people stood near the counter, giving her the perfect view of the three bartenders working behind it. 
Lia cleared her throat and diverted her eyes back to the stage.
“I guess it’s usually like this,” she added, ignoring the fact that her belly was suddenly turning upside down. “But it also depends on how crowded the other two bars are.”
“Hmm… Well,” Jillie said, turning her head to look at them, “should we get a table, then?”
Lia nodded and stepped forward. 
“Sure—” 
“Wait!” Molly placed her hands on Lia’s hips, forcing her to stay in place. “Let’s get a drink first.”
“A—Already? You sure? Now? Right now?"
“Yes.” Molly smirked. “Right now. C’mon. Wanna see that bartender of yours up close.”
“Oh God…”
Lia chuckled, mostly because she didn’t know what to say. Or do. 
Of course they wanted to see him, though. After all, it was the whole reason why they were there that night. 
At first the excitement and curiosity had happened through texts, when Lia got the courage to tell them about Harry. Their reaction had been instant, and it’d brought so much joy to her body that Lia ended up spending way more time on her phone than she should have. 
Despite letting them know it was only a crush, and that he didn’t really care about her, they both entertained the subject, asking details about the way he looked or how she’d met him. It was easy to get carried away with them, because they didn’t make it seem that deep, treating the topic lightly. Treating it as a joke. 
They also didn’t make her feel guilty or out of her mind for being attracted to him. And when she explained to them how she worried about being inappropriate for fantasizing about him, they both shared their own stories of moments when they’d fancied someone they probably shouldn’t have, and even of things they’d done with people that they probably shouldn’t have. 
It brought some sense of imperfection to her, and of humanity, and it made her breathe better. So before ending the conversation, when they asked to meet him, Lia didn’t want to say no and go back to her lonely and quiet bubble, so she agreed with them. 
And that’s how they ended up there. 
On Friday night. At the bar. 
“Oh, yes! I wanna see him, too!” Jillie let go of Lia’s arm and turned around. “C’mon.”
The idea of her gorgeous, tall, cheerful friend reaching the bar first and alone was enough to get a reaction out of her. 
“Okay, okay!” Lia looked at the floor and closed her hands into fists, then stepped forward and led the way. 
She had no idea what would come out of that night, but she knew it didn’t make sense for her to run away or avoid the situation—not even if it made her stomach swirl and turn. After all, telling her best friends about Harry and The Wandering Triplet had felt like a bold move, but also like a step she needed to take. 
And one she hadn’t regretted so far. 
"Heeyyy!” Rohan’s cheerful voice greeted as soon as Lia reached the counter, and she immediately glanced up. He approached them with a grin and open arms, easily leaving his co-workers behind. “Look who’s here!”
Lia curled her mouth into a closed-lip smile and cleared her throat. 
“H—Hi…”
“You good? It’s nice to see you! You almost never show up on Fridays.”
“Oh…” She chuckled softly, placing her hands inside the pockets of her jacket and shrugging. “I just… Yeah. I’m with my friends tonight, so… I wanted to show them around? I guess…”
“Of course!” Rohan widened his eyes, but his smile never faltered. He shifted his sight to the other girls and stood up straighter, then stretched his arm and offered his hand for them to shake. “How rude of me. Hello there, I’m Rohan.”
“Molly.”
“Jillie, hi.”
“Welcome to The Wandering Triplet, yeah? Hope you enjoy it. Any friend of Lia is more than welcome here.”
Lia shifted on her feet, then caught a glimpse of Harry moving towards the shelves. 
She hadn’t seen him again, but the intensity of his eyes was still engraved inside her mind. It had induced the most vivid dreams for the last couple of nights, and it brought a fluttery to her belly every time she thought about him. 
And she really didn’t know what to think about it, or if she even should think so much about it, but it was nice to see him again. It really was. 
He looked good, as usual, and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could see enough to know he was already frowning. Also as usual. 
For a change, though, Harry was wearing a black t-shirt. Black t-shirt, black wide legged pants, and black shoes. 
Black, black, black. 
Lia sighed. She wished he could be the one taking their orders and chatting with them. Him, instead of Rohan. At least once. 
Jillie elbowed her side, and Lia shook her head. Clearing her throat, she looked from Rohan, to Jillie, to Molly. 
They were all watching her.
She forced a chuckle out of her mouth and faced Jillie again. “What?”
“Nothing.” Jillie shrugged. “Rohan was just saying how you’re one of their favorite regulars. That’s all.”
“Oh.” Lia laughed—or tried to laugh—and shook her head again. Vehemently, this time. Almost desperately. “I don’t… No… Yeah, no… I don’t think I am.”
“Of course you are,” Rohan said, drawing all the attention back to him. “I mean, I know you’re my favorite customer, at least.”
Rohan winked, and Lia’s brain froze. Her stomach rolled before heaviness settled in, and her senses seemed to catch every detail around her: her friends coughing next to her, Sage patting Rohan’s shoulder as she walked past him, and Harry snorting and shaking his head behind him. 
Heat creeped up through her neck, face, and ears. And all she wanted was to get away from there. To be swallowed by the ground. To vanish from air. 
“Oookay…” Molly laughed, throwing her arm around Lia’s shoulder and pulling her close. “So what about getting your favorite customer and her friends two mojitos and a beer, huh?”
— — — — — 
“Your little shit!” Jillie hissed, sending her a glare and a laugh from across the table. “You’ve been hiding all this from us? I can’t believe you!”
Next to Lia, Molly laughed and shook her head. “Me neither.”
“And this Rohan guy? Oh my God! Lia! He’s so into you! What the hell?!”
“Yeah. How come you didn’t tell us about him?”
Lia shrugged. 
Rohan had always been nice, and maybe he had said a few things here and there that had made her blush before, but he had never been so straightforward with the flirting. 
Besides, she didn’t care about Rohan, so she never thought about mentioning him. Why would she? 
The girls  talked and laughed about her apparently “secret life”, but there was nothing Lia could think to say to them, so she listened. 
And as she listened, she hid her face behind the rim of the glass in her hands, then took the first sip of her mojito.
Mint and rum went down her throat, and she pursed her lips. 
It was good, but it wasn’t as good as Harry’s.
She twisted her neck and tried to catch a glimpse of the bar, but there were too many people in between. 
Her shoulders dropped, and she sighed. 
Was there even a way for her to interact with him again? 
Should she walk in early on a Wednesday evening again?
What if Sage was there, too?
Would he take the opportunity to ignore her, like he normally did?
Ugh! 
See?!
Harry was the one she wanted to talk about, not Rohan.
Why was Rohan the topic of conversation?
Lia faced the table and cleared her throat. 
Both Jillie and Molly looked at her, and she shifted on her seat. 
“Uh… So… What did you think of Harry?”
Eyeing one girl, then the other, Lia sipped her mojito again. 
Jillie shrugged.
“I was so focused on Rohan that I didn’t even pay attention to Harry, to be honest.” She stretched her neck, lifting her head towards the bar’s direction.
“I think… Damn he’s hot,” Molly admitted. 
Lia’s lips curled up. “Yeah? You think?”
“Oh yes.” Molly nodded. “The tattoos, the clothes, the hair... And not shaving but also not actually having a beard? Pft. The guy definitely knows what he’s doing.”
Lia’s smile turned into a grin. 
She had always been so afraid of her friends (and people in general) judging her, or making her feel embarrassed, that she never allowed herself to just share and enjoy things with others. And in that moment, sitting with them at the bar and gossiping about Harry, as ridiculous as she knew it would sound, she felt less alone.
Damn! She just couldn’t wait to tell Dr. Reisman all about it. She would be happy to know that Lia was finally considering her words to be correct: living outside of her tiny safe bubble could, in fact, be so good for her.
— — — — — 
A couple of hours later, Molly and Jillie hugged Lia goodnight and shared an Uber back to their homes. 
Lia stood near the bouncer and watched the car drive off, meanwhile tried to find her keys inside of her bag. 
She really needed to bring something smaller for those kinds of situations, especially considering she was only across the street from her own apartment. 
Why did she even need that much stuff?
She had never stopped to journal in the middle of a drink. And she had never done her nails outside her home. And she had never needed— 
“So she has friends, after all.”
Lia jerked her head to one side, and then to the other. It took her a moment to see him, standing alone in the darkness of the tiny alley next to the bar.
Harry was leaning on his right shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed on top of his chest and his head slightly tilted to the side. 
He smirked, and Lia’s chest tightened.
“You thought I didn’t have friends?” she blurted out, her tone softer and lower than she had intended to.
Harry shrugged, and his shoulders went up and down theatrically — dragging his crossed arms along with him while his lips curved down. 
Lia blinked and looked at the floor. 
She was convinced Harry didn’t care about her. A fact that implied he didn’t think about her, nor make assumptions about her.
Thinking again, though, she knew that wasn’t the truth. 
Because Harry made assumptions about her. For instance, he constantly assumed she went to the bar to see Rohan. He also tended to scoff and roll his eyes at her, as if she was too predictable. 
He didn’t know her, but he acted as if he did.
But... What kind of person he thought she was, then? What kind of person didn’t have any friends?
Did he actually think that low of her?
She was aware of how hard it was for her to be social, to feel comfortable around people, but she had never thought she could be perceived as someone who wasn’t capable of having any friends.
Did that even make sense?
Why did his comment make her feel so… Sad about herself? 
So... Lonely? 
So insufficient. 
So out of place.
Damn.
What was she even feeling? 
Her chest ached, and her throat felt sore, but she couldn’t point out exactly what any of that meant… How would she be able to control her emotions, if she couldn’t tell what emotions she was dealing with in the first place?
“Oh c’mon…” Harry scoffed, and even though she wasn’t looking at him, Lia could hear his eyes rolling in his voice. “I was just saying. Don’t be a baby about it.”
He sounded annoyed. 
Or maybe disappointed. 
Or maybe bored.
Lia looked up and to the left. She focused on the bouncer sitting on the stool and took a deep breath in. Watching him scroll through his phone without a single care about their interaction. 
Or maybe pretending not to have a single care about it.
Maybe he was internally laughing about the whole thing. Ready to pat Harry’s back and agree with him. Ready to admit he had no idea why Lia kept showing up over and over again. 
Another deep breath in, and Lia looked at the ground, finding her own feet.
Her boots were dirty with beer. She needed to clean them up as soon as she got home. She also needed to wash her hair, because she could definitely smell cigarettes. Were people smoking inside? Was that even allowed?
“See!”
Lia jumped. And looked up again. 
Harry snorted and turned to the side, leaning his back completely against the wall and shoving his hands inside of his pants’ pockets. Shaking his head, he murmured, “I knew talking to you was useless.”
Lia’s heart shrunk. 
Harry looked defeated. And maybe he really was, because apparently he had finally noticed how boring it was to have an actual conversation with her.
God, he made her feel so, so small.
“You—” Lia closed her eyes. She needed to speak, or she would regret it the next morning. She batted her eyes open and took a couple of steps forward, stopping only when she was in front of him. Closing her hands into fists, she breathed in, and then breathed out. “You need to… Stop.”
“Stop?”
“Yes. Stop! Stop acting like you know a thing about me, because you don’t, okay? If you… If you don’t want to know me then… Then fine. Just don’t. But stop… Just stop being such an asshole to me.”
He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms on his chest. 
“Stop calling me an asshole.”
“Then stop being one!”
For a second, it seemed as if Harry’s lips twitched upwards, attempting to smile. 
But then he licked his lips, and shrugged. 
“How am I being an asshole? We don’t even talk.”
“Well… We… You… We clearly don’t, but…” She sighed and looked at the end of the alley, searching for a safe place to put her eyes and crossing her arms under her chest before she poured her honesty into him. “But when we do, you make sure to point out only the things I hate the most about myself, and that sucks.”
There was silence. A lot of silence. And if she hadn’t heard him sigh, or if she couldn’t see him through the corner of her eyes, she would’ve thought he had left.
Breathe in, Lia. 
Breathe out. 
“I know I am awkward, okay? And I know I am not fun to talk to. I know it takes me some time to answer, and I know people don’t want to be friends with me. I know all that. Trust me, I know. I know, and I hate that I am this way. But you… You have no idea how hard I try anyway. How hard I keep trying to step out of my comfort zone and just… Be different. Be better. So there’s no need to make fun of me, okay? Just let me be and I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Lia—”
“Don’t. Please. Just… I already hate myself for telling you all this. God… I—I haven’t told these things to anyone besides my therapist. And caring so much about it is another thing that I hate about myself. I know it’s stupid, I know I am old enough and shouldn’t care. I wish I didn’t but… It’s just… Anyway, I don’t need you being mean or making fun of me about it, okay? Finally talking to someone about this it’s... It was supposed to be good for me. It was supposed to… I don’t know… It was supposed to feel good and not... Not like this.”
“Listen—”
“No. Let’s just… Leave it like this, okay? Forget about it. It’s not like you ever cared about me anyway.”
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There was a reason why Lia spent most of the time inside her head: it was better than facing the reality of her life. 
And for the last twelve months or so, her mind had created a very nice and safe bubble for her to distract herself with. A bubble where she lived happily and unbothered. Where she didn’t embarrass herself. And where she didn’t mess things up. 
Her bubble was hers and only hers, but she wasn’t alone in it. Of course she wasn’t. 
Since she’d met him at the bar, and even though he had no idea about it, Harry had been there as well. 
Lia liked to look at him, she liked to wonder about him, and she liked to fantasize about him. Because Harry was hot. And sexy as hell. And because although she wasn’t into the “dark and mysterious” vibe, she couldn’t deny that Harry made her insides come to live.
He really did. 
In her dreams, Lia was sure he was everything she always secretly wanted but never had. Especially in bed.
He looked like the type of man who wasn’t nice, because he didn’t give a damn about being nice. He looked like the type of man who didn’t get attached, who was just after having a good time. Who would sleep with her, send her home, and roll his eyes at her the next time he saw her around.
He looked like the kind of man who could have any woman, at any time, without even having to try.
And Lia had always wondered how it would be like to have sex with someone like that, but she always knew it was a dangerous path to actually walk through. So when he brushed her off, or rolled his eyes at her, or didn’t even acknowledge she was there, she fed her fantasy up. But she wouldn’t be that into him if she didn’t know that’s all it was—a fantasy.
A fantasy that kept her company in her nice and safe bubble. That distracted her. That allowed her to stay by herself without losing her mind. 
And a fantasy that ended up nowhere to be seen, because the bubble in which she had been happily living and nurturing all those dreams about him had burst right in front of her. And even though she’d been stupid in the past, there was absolutely no way she was ever going to allow herself to even think about something happening between them again. Nuh-uh. 
Not at all. 
Not anytime soon. 
Not ever again. 
Only hours had gone by, but Lia was already all over the place. 
She hadn’t slept at all, too busy crying and catching up her breath. 
She didn’t think it was fair that Harry had been the one who she’d opened up to, especially because it didn’t feel like opening up to someone. It felt like begging for him not to be mean at her because she was too insecure about herself. It felt like not being strong enough to just let it go. It felt like not being confident enough to act like a woman next to him. It felt weak. It felt sad. It felt awful.
Lia had never been so vulnerable to someone. Not besides Dr. Reisman, at least. So at that moment, when it finally happened — when she finally let it all out — all she had wanted and needed was a hug. And she couldn’t ask him that. 
Of course she couldn’t.
So she had to go back to her place and go through all of it all by herself. All alone. Just like she didn’t want to be. 
Damn. Her brain hurt from so much thinking. From all the embarrassment, all the judgment, all the regret. 
She was spiraling, all over again. And because of a man, all over again. 
Another man. 
Again. 
No. No, no, no. She couldn’t go through all that again. She really couldn’t. She needed to do something. She needed to handle the situation. She had to stop it before she ended up losing herself again. 
And she was going to do it the only way she knew how—creating a new, nice, and safe bubble for herself. A bubble that could be her only world for a couple of days. 
Or for as long as it took until she felt brave enough to step out of it again.
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One day. 
Two days. 
Three.
Four. 
Five. 
Six. 
A week. 
And another one.
“They are all delicious.” Lia crossed her arms on the counter and smiled. “But yeah, Snickers was definitely my favorite one so far.”
“Really?” Cece smiled. The wrinkles around her face doubled, and her hand shook slightly as she handed Lia the card reader. “Thank you, dear. Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Hmmm… I don’t think so.” She waited for the confirmation that the payment went through, then added, “But I’ll definitely be here on Friday.”
“Good. I’ll have a slice of your favorite ready for you then. On the house.”
Lia’s smile got wider, and she was filled by this sudden need of giving that sweet lady the biggest and warmest hug. 
She couldn’t believe how long it had taken her to discover CC Tearoom, especially since it was right around the corner from her place. Cece’s hands truly turned ingredients into magic. So far, there hadn’t been a flavor that hadn’t made Lia close her eyes and hum to herself. This time, it was the Roasted Strawberries & Cream Cheesecake that had sent her over the moon, but on Monday it had been the slice of Chocolate-Peanut Butter, and the week before three other different ones.
So yeah, she should’ve been there and incorporated it into her routine a lot earlier.
Coffee and pies were so much better than mojitos, anyway. 
Besides, she obviously felt way more comfortable sitting on the corner of a welcoming and homelike coffee shop than surrounded by loud and drunk people. And the way Cece and the other baristas treated her? Wow. It only highlighted how stupid she had been going to that bar, pinning over a guy that gave her nothing but coldness and rudeness all the time. 
The mere thought of him brought a weird feeling to her belly, and Lia tried her best to push his presence out of her mind. She was getting better at it. Faster. Which was good, because it meant she suddenly wouldn’t even remember about him anymore, right?
She stepped into the summer night breeze and crossed her arms under her chest. Another day had practically gone by. Another Wednesday. Meaning it was almost the end of the week, and then a new one would start. And she would get to repeat everything all over again. 
Wake up, go to work, go home, clean up or go out for a coffee (and a slice of cheesecake), get ready for the next day, and go to bed. From Monday to Monday. With an exception here and there — like grocery shopping and doing laundry on the weekends instead of going to work, and also going downstairs and visiting Mrs. Jones for some knitting or a few rounds of card games. 
The latest activity had happened for the first time only last Saturday afternoon, but Lia was keen on the idea of making it a habit. Mrs. and Ms. Jones had been living on the second floor of her building for years. They were known by most neighbors as the couple who was always bickering, but could never stay away from each other. And despite Ms. Jones’ explicit complaints about everything and everyone, everybody seemed to like them a lot—probably because no-one took his grumpiness very seriously. 
She turned around the corner and looked down at her feet. Her hair blew across her eyes, blocking her view of the black sneakers her parents had given her last Christmas. They were kind of loose on her feet, but at least she wasn’t wearing those white shoes anymore. Or any other color, for that matter. At least she’d gone back to her black neutral low-key outfits. 
Taking one hand up, she pulled her hair over her shoulders, then tucked some strands behind her ear. 
She focused on the way her legs carried her back to her building, tracing the well-known path her steps absently followed everyday. 
There was nothing like a safe, quiet, and laid-back routine, was it?
No, there wasn’t.
It was all she needed. 
All she had wanted.
To be okay.
And she had finally achieved it, hadn’t she?
“Lia!”
Out of nowhere, the voice hit her like thunder. Her body staggered for a moment, and the sound lingered inside her. 
It was Harry, wasn’t it? 
Calling her name?
Her heart raced, and a flush of adrenaline tingled through her body. 
No. Of course not. 
How could it be? 
Why would it be?
“Lia, hey!”
Shit. 
Another thunder, and another shock to speed up her heart. Except this time she didn’t stop moving — she walked even faster. 
She was afraid to be right, she didn’t want to be right, but deep down she had no doubts. She knew it was him. 
She also hoped it would be.
“Wait!”
He sounded louder, and Lia knew that when thunder got louder, it meant lighting was getting closer. 
Her heart pounded inside of her chest, and a low buzz rang in her ears.
She closed her hand into a fist, tightening her fingers around her keys. Maybe she could get away with pretending she didn’t hear him. Maybe, if she just walked fast enough, she would reach the door and get inside before he called again. Maybe she could run up the front steps. There were only six of them... Or were they seven? It didn’t matter. Once she got inside her building, she would be fine. 
“Lia, please! Hey!”
Just get the key and open the door, Lia. C’mon… C’mon! That’s it! Now, just get inside. Go, go, go!
With shaking hands, she pushed the front door of her building and took a step inside. 
“Lia, c’mon! Just, please—Hey, stop!”
Harry’s hand banged against the door, and his heavy breathing echoed between the four walls of the tiny lobby.
Lia turned on her feet with a gasp, finding Harry with his mouth open and one arm stretched out, leaning his weight on the still open door while catching his breath.
Not fast enough, Lia. Not fast enough. 
“I just—Fucking hell…” Harry breathed out, chest going up and down densely. He looked down and shook his head, then faced her again. “We need… We need to talk."
Lia crossed her arms and stepped backwards. She pulled her eyebrows together as she looked at him and took her very own version of shaky breaths. 
Exact eighteen days had gone by since she’d last seen him. She knew it, because she’d been counting them — as embarrassing and ridiculous as it sounded. 
She had been counting them because she was determined to make the number get higher and higher. 
So, so determined. So careful, and so mindful of everything. 
That’s why she walked her own street with her head down — to avoid even getting a glimpse of him walking in or out of the bar. She lived as if the place didn’t exist anymore. As if she’d never stepped in there. As if she didn’t even care about what the place could be past the door. 
She hadn’t counted on the possibility of Harry running after her, though. 
After all, why would he? 
Why did he? 
He was there, flesh and bone, in the lobby of her building. Trying to talk to her. To her.
And just like any other time before, Harry looked just… Stunning. 
Absolutely and unfairly stunning. 
Wearing all black, just like the last time she’d seen him. Just like when she’d snapped at him and made a fool of herself. When he’d made her realize she needed to take a step back from him.
A tingle spread on her stomach. 
She swallowed down, then tightened the grip of her crossed arms. 
Under the black fabric of her plain t-shirt, Harry’s body seemed thick with muscle. His arms looked too big for those short sleeves, something she’d already noticed and thought about before. Something she usually enjoyed paying attention to. 
Breathe in, breathe out, Lia. 
Breathe in, breathe out.
Her stomach tingled again, except this time it heated all over her body.
His strong, imposing figure had always sparked inside her a flush of craving for him. It had been the reason for so many of her not-so-innocent dreams, and the encouragement for so many of her hidden fantasies. She couldn’t recall a time in her life when she had desired a man like that, and it saddened her to think there was nothing she could do about it. 
“Please?” Harry insisted, sliding his hand down through the thick wood, but still holding the door open. 
Great. She had forgotten to speak. Again.
Lia blinked. And swallowed. “W–why?”
Her voice was shaking just as much as her hands had been seconds before, but she couldn’t allow herself to think too much about that. She didn’t even care, to be honest. All she wanted to know and all she cared about was why. 
Why was Harry there? 
Why did Harry want to talk to her? 
Why couldn’t she just forget about it? 
Why couldn’t she just move on? 
Why couldn’t she just be different? 
Why couldn’t her life be different? 
Why couldn’t things be different? 
Why couldn’t they be easier?
Why?
Why?! 
Why?!
��Because you deserve an apology.”
Lia blinked again. Once, and then a couple more times. 
His words not only didn’t answer most of her questions, but also created a bunch of new ones. 
What was he even doing? 
Was he being serious? 
Or was it all just a joke to him?
“I just—I don’t—” She drew her eyebrows closer and closer, until her forehead creased and wrinkled.
"Look,” Harry said, pausing only to take a deep breath in and pull his hair back. “I know I don’t deserve it, and I get that you don’t want to listen… But I just need a minute, that’s all. Just give me a minute and I’ll be out of your way. I promise. Please.”
Lia bit the insides of her bottom lip. 
Generally speaking, Lia didn’t think she would’ve been able to say no to him, because she honestly didn’t want to say no to him. Still, any doubts that could’ve dared to cross her mind and make her second guess her decision disappeared as she looked at him—as she truly looked at him.
Because everything about Harry looked just the same as always, but somehow he looked completely different from any other time before.
Maybe it was because she’d never seen him in such a casual context—after all, they had never met or talked to each other in any circumstance that didn’t involve the bar. 
Shit. 
Would she even be able to hold a real conversation with him? 
A sigh left her mouth, and Lia dropped her shoulders.
It wasn’t even about that, was it? That is, what felt different. It wasn’t about the context or the place. Right? It was something else… Something about the way he looked at her, perhaps… Something about the way he seemed to carry softness and worry in his stare. Two things she hadn’t seen on him before. Not aiming towards her, at least.  
“Okay.” Her voice was soft, and it took her by surprise — she definitely hadn’t planned on speaking up.  
And apparently it took Harry by surprise, too, because he widened his eyes and asked, “Okay?” 
Lia swallowed, and nodded once. 
“Really?” he insisted. 
“Yes… Okay.”
“Ok,” he repeated, mimicking her previous nod. He stared inside her eyes for a moment, then glanced down to the floor. It was hard to tell what was crossing his mind as he silently shuffled on his feet, or when he took his free hand up and pulled his hair back. “Right. Yeah, ok. Let’s talk, then.”
Lia pressed her lips together and waited for him to speak up first, mostly because she couldn’t think of one single thing to say to him. 
Harry, on the other hand, stood there with furrowed brows and puzzled eyes, as if he was going through his own personal battle inside his own mind. 
Until, eventually, he shook his head and cleared his throat.
“Sorry.” He stepped forward, and as he walked inside, he let the door go and looked over his shoulder, watching until it fully closed behind him. 
There was a pause, in which he took the time to face her again and shove his hands inside of his pockets. 
And then, serious and determined, Harry spoke again. “To be completely honest, I didn’t think this through. I’ve just been thinking a lot about what happened, so I wanted to apologize to you. Because I’m really sorry for the other night. And also… Well, for everything else.”
“You don’t have to,” Lia said, and she hated how she sounded way more fragile and unsure than she wanted to. “Apologize, I mean. It’s fine.”
Harry squinted, and his forehead wrinkled. 
“Of course I do. Everything you said the other night was—”
“Please.” She shook her head and looked away from him, tightening her arms around herself. “I—I don’t…”
Her mouth was incredibly dry, and there was an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach that was getting hard to ignore. It was heavy, and it hurt. 
She closed her hands into fists, then dug her nails into her palms to prevent herself from getting lost inside her mind. She focused on the mailboxes on the wall to her left, looking for her name that had been printed and attached under the number of her apartment so many months ago. 
“I don’t want to talk about what I said. Like, I really don’t wanna talk about it.”
Harry sighed. 
“Lia…”
“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just forget about everything.”
“I don’t think that’s—”
The front door opened, and Lia turned her head to the new movement. 
“I said I don’t care,” Mr. Jones’ said, his unmistakable voice reaching her ears before she could even see him. He walked in with a frown, but stopped to hold the door open for his wife. “Told you I don’t like the boy.”
Harry looked at his feet and took a step to the side, getting away from the entrance.
“You never like them, Walter,” Mrs. Jones replied with her sweet and shaky voice, walking slowly right behind him. “You’re being worse than—Oh.”
As soon as the woman met Lia’s eyes, she curled her lips into a sweet, wrinkled and excited smile. 
“Good night, sweetheart! Didn’t see you there!”
“How?” the man muttered, closing the door while his wife walked a few more tiny steps forward. “They’re standing right in the way!”
Mrs. Jones kept smiling and rolled her eyes, waving her quivering hand in the air. 
“Forgive my husband. He finds pleasure in being rude. And grumpy."
Lia forced a polite chuckle out of her mouth, aware that the few hours she’d spent with them over the weekend had been enough to reveal how behind the grumpiness there was a very funny and very caring man. 
“‘M just telling the truth,” Mr. Jones muttered again. “Are they or are they not in the way?”
“Of course they aren’t, Walter.” Mrs. Jones dragged her feet through the lobby, right towards Lia and Harry’s direction. “There’s more than enough space for all of us to stand here.”
“But I don’t want to stand here, Mora. I want to go upstairs.”
“You can go ahead if you want. I still need to check the mail.”
Lia stepped backwards, giving the elder lady more room to cross between them and get to the mailboxes. 
Mr. Jones grunted at the same time Harry sighed, and Lia pressed her lips together to hold herself back from laughing—or even smiling. 
“I finished the scarf we started the other day,” Mrs. Jones said. “You should drop by for some coffee and see the result.”
Lia nodded. “Of course. This weekend, maybe?”
“Sounds good, dear. Do you like apple pie?” 
“Sure.”
“I’ll make some, then.”
Mrs. Jones was sweet, she truly was. But as much as Lia didn’t want to admit, they were the worst neighbors that could’ve shown up at the lobby and interrupted them. Because she knew how unhurriedly they lived their lives, and she knew how long it could take them to finally go upstairs. 
Besides, she didn’t think they were even aware they had interrupted something, so she also didn’t think they were aware that their presence was holding a conversation back. 
Mrs. Jones hummed to herself while finally going through the same mailbox she opened everyday, and Harry cleared his throat. 
When Lia looked at him, she found his eyes already watching her. He stood with his hands still inside of his pockets, but the previous softness on his face had been replaced by a clenched jaw and lips pressed together into a line. 
“I think I should go back,” he said.
“Oh. O-okay.”
“Yeah. This isn’t—” 
“Walter, look!” Mrs. Jones blurted out. “We got another grocery coupon!”
Harry shut his mouth, rolled his eyes, and looked up at the ceiling. 
“Those sales are garbage,” Mr. Jones mumbled, standing near the stairs. 
“Of course they aren’t,” the woman scoffed. “We get some very nice meals out of them.”
She opened the magazine, eying the content on the first two pages. 
“Let’s see what we find today,” she added. “Maybe they’ve got some apples. For my apple pie.”
“Ugh. I wanna go upstairs, Mora…”
Harry rolled his shoulders and faced Lia again, instantly locking his green eyes with hers. 
He looked frustrated, or maybe annoyed, and somehow she understood the feeling. Because she was frustrated, too—she didn’t want Harry to leave yet, and she more than definitely didn’t want to miss the opportunity to spend a few more minutes with him, or to listen to what else he could have to say. 
So whilst he had been interrupted, she had been denied the opportunity to be around him. And all she could think about was how much she wanted for him to stay around. How much she wanted to keep listening to him, and how much she wanted for him to keep talking to her.  
Lia’s fingers twitched, and her heartbeat sped up. 
She loosened up the grip of her fists, opening and closing her hands a few times. Then, still stuck inside of his green eyes, she took a deep breath in through her nose, licked her lips and voiced quietly, “We can… I mean… Do you want to go upstairs? We can talk there… Y’know, if you want to.”
Harry widened his eyes. 
“You sure?”
“Y-yeah. But it’s fine if you have to go. I just… I mean…” 
“Upstairs sounds great.” He nodded. “Thank you.”
Lia nodded, too. 
She didn’t give herself time to think about what her words could imply. 
She couldn’t allow herself to think about what Harry being inside her apartment would mean, because if she did, she would send him away. 
And after everything she’d been through, there was absolutely no way Lia would ever forgive herself if she just sent him away.
— — — — — 
The walk upstairs was awfully silent, but Lia didn’t know what she could say to him. She wasn’t good at small talk, and she didn’t want to be the one to bring up their previous conversation. So she distracted herself by fidgeting with her keys, cursing when she dropped them, and blushing when Harry picked them up for her. 
“Shit.” 
“Here.” 
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Those were the only words they spoke, then everything went silent again. 
Breathless and with a pounding heart, Lia couldn’t tell if it was from walking too many flights of stairs or from the fact that she was about to take Harry inside of her apartment. 
The moment she didn’t give herself to think before inviting him, hit her between the first and second floor, and it was only downhill from then on.
What was wrong with her?
What was she even thinking?! 
Well, actually she wasn’t thinking. Of course. That had been the whole point, right? She didn’t think, because if she did, she wouldn’t have invited him. She knew she wouldn’t. Of course she wouldn’t! Because she shouldn’t have!
How could she be so freaking stupid? 
It’s just… She didn’t even know him! And in the few and short interactions they’d shared in the past several months, he had been nothing but rude and unfairly mean to her. 
So, yeah, that was such, such a terrible idea!
She’d just spent days—weeks—deeply regretting sharing her insecurities with him. Pondering about how it was time to finally move on and forget about that crush. And yet there she was again: about to let Harry burst another one of her tiny bubbles. About to open up the front door of her tiny apartment and let him in; then turn on the lights and allow him to see the insides of her safest and most personal space.
So, so stupid!
Lia reached the landing before the last set of steps and exhaled slowly, letting the air out of her mouth as if she could also release all the tension out of her body. 
They were almost there. 
It was getting real. It was about to happen. 
And she’d have to deal with the situation. 
There was no going back anymore. 
Or, well… 
Maybe there was, but… 
Did she really want to go back?
No. Of course she didn’t. 
She lifted her arm and pointed her keys ahead, aiming at the second door. 
“We’re—” Her voice faltered, and heat spread through her cheeks. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “We’re here.” 
She walked forward, then focused on putting the key in the lock without trembling. Once she succeeded, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, then reached for the switch and turned the light on. 
“Sorry for the mess,” she said, hanging her keys on the wall. 
Lia wasn’t a messy person, but she hadn’t bothered with cleaning up her apartment in the last two days. 
In her defense, though, she wasn’t expecting any guests. Wednesday or not, people never showed up at her place out of nowhere. She didn’t invite anyone she didn’t feel comfortable with, and those who visited knew her well enough to always give her a heads up.
Two things Harry hadn’t done. 
He seemed an exception to absolutely everything in her life so far. 
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said. He kept his distance, but still stood close enough for her to feel his presence behind her. “You should see my place.”
There was a playful scoff at the end of his sentence, and Lia knew he was only being polite by insinuating how messier his own place was, but still, the prospect of visiting Harry’s home made her insides twinkle.
She had absolutely no idea where he lived, or who he lived with—was it a house? An apartment? Did he live with his family? Did he have any roommates? Did he live by himself? Did he have any pets? 
Did he have a girlfriend?
Harry had never given Lia the chance for her to ask anything about his life. He had never given her the chance to get to know him. 
If he had, Lia liked to believe she would’ve been brave enough to ask him everything she always wanted to know about him—about his family, his hobbies, his childhood, and even about his dreams. 
He had an accent, so was she correct by assuming he was British? Was his family from there, too? Why did he leave the UK? Did he have any siblings, or was he an only child? Did he see them often? If not, did he miss them?
“It’s really nice here,” Harry said. 
“Um… Yeah.” Lia shrugged. “It’s a good place to live, I guess.”
Up on the fourth floor, her rented apartment wasn’t big, nor fancy. To be honest, she’d always found everything about the place normal and simple, which felt more than enough for her. The space was limited, but it had never felt cramped. A living room and an open-concept kitchen, with only a counter setting the limits between them, and then a tiny hallway that led to the bedroom and the bathroom. 
And that was it. That was all she had to offer.
“You should… I mean,” Lia said, walking further into the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, and all that…”
She walked past the coffee table and the messy remains of her laziness from the night before. After the dark gray counter, she rubbed both hands against her jeans, then turned another light on. Just at the same time, the front door clicked, and she jumped around.
Harry stood awkwardly by the dark wood, his hands hidden inside of his pockets, just like before.
“Sorry.” She leaned her side against the end of the counter. “I’m not… I’m not used to having people over, so… I’m not good at this.”
Harry shrugged, curling his lips up just slightly. “I think you’re doing great.”
Lia snorted and looked down at her feet, then crossed her arms under her chest. “Sure.”
“Look, about the—”
“Who’s at the bar?” She blurted out. “Shouldn’t you be there?”
“Uh, yeah… I should, but Sagey is there. She’s covering for me.”
Lia nodded.
“Right.”
Sagey.
The way the nickname for his coworker rolled so easily out of his tongue made her want to crawl into his arms. It screamed affection, and trust, and for a moment she envied the fact that someone could so easily be part of his life.
She closed her eyes for a second, then looked over her shoulder and back to the kitchen.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“No, thanks. Actually—”
“Tea?” 
“I—”
“You’re British, right?” She faced him again. “Do you really drink tea or is that just a myth?”
Harry tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips, watching her. And then, after a moment, he just dropped his head down and chuckled. 
The joyful, beautiful, and yet discreet sound that came out of his mouth was unexpected, and it once again made Lia’s heartbeat get faster and louder. 
“I am British, yeah,” Harry finally said, then looked up at her. The remains of a smile still dancing through his lips. “But I’m good, thank you.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Maybe some other time, though?”
The chances of her and Harry ever meeting at her apartment again didn’t seem likely, let alone for them to have a coffee or tea together. But she wouldn’t tell him that. 
Instead, she nodded, and looked down at her feet. “Sure. Another time.”
“Good. Now, do you have any other questions, drinks to offer, or…”
Lia widened her eyes and darted her sight back to him.
She had been rambling a lot, hadn’t she? Not letting him talk and interrupting with awkward and stupid questions and… Shit.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head and straightening up her body. That had been so rude of her! “Really, I… I didn’t mean to keep interrupting you. Sorry.”
“C’mon, it’s fine,” Harry said, taking a step forward and closer to the couch. “I’m just teasing you.”
“It’s just... I’m—I’m nervous, I think? I mean, usually when I’m nervous I just shut up? So I don’t… I don’t really know why I can’t stop talking right now,  but... Maybe... I don’t know. I guess… I guess this is a different kind of ’nervous’? I mean… I don’t… Yeah. I—I don’t know. Sorry. Shit. I’ll just shut up now. Sorry.”
She chuckled, but quickly regretted it, letting the sound fade in the silent air around them. It felt awkward, as if she was forcing the fun out of her body. And maybe she truly was, because she didn’t feel like laughing—she just thought it would be polite to do so. That it would be better if she looked happy, instead of insecure. Or nervous. Or sad. 
“Lia, I don’t…” Harry looked down, took a deep breath in, and shook his head. When he met her eyes again, his tone—along with his actions—was clearly softer, careful. Almost afraid. “Look, I’m the only one who should be apologizing here. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? And I am sorry Lia, I really am. Those things you said the other night were—"
“It’s okay.” Lia shook her head and stepped towards the couch. “Like I said, I really don’t want to talk about any of the things I said.”
She grabbed the blanket she’d left there the night before, wrapping it as best as she could and holding it onto her chest. 
“But I—”
“Those were very personal things for me to share okay? And I just— Please… I mean… I can’t—I don’t want to talk about it.” 
“Ok. Yes. Of course. I shouldn’t… I don’t want to force you to talk about it. I just need to make sure you know how sorry I am for making you feel that way. Because I really am.”
Shit. 
She turned around, dropping the cozy and warm fabric on the armchair. 
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, c’mon. I was out of line and shouldn’t have treated you like that.” 
Lia sighed. 
What did he want her to say? 
Yes, he’d hurt her, but she was trying to move on. So relieving the whole situation wouldn’t help her. 
Besides, it wasn’t Harry’s fault if she didn’t know how to talk or interact with people. 
“Lia…” he called. 
She dropped her arms to her sides, then turned to face him once again. 
She really didn’t want to talk about it. 
“Can you please let it go? It’s just… I shouldn’t have said anything. And I’m really embarrassed about the whole thing.”
He hid his hands inside his pockets and shrugged.
“I’m embarrassed, too. Acted like a proper… What was it? Oh right, like an asshole.” 
Lia’s mouth curled up into a smile, and she bit her bottom lip to hold it back.
Despite the embarrassment, a part of her felt proud of herself for calling him out that night. Both nights. Standing up to people was really hard for her. She almost never cursed out loud, nor disrespected people in any way, so calling Harry an asshole—more than once—had felt like crossing a bridge.
Still, it didn’t mean she thought it was a nice thing to do. Or that he couldn’t have found it offensive.
“Sorry… For calling you an asshole.”
Harry curled one side of his mouth up. “I totally deserved it.”
There was a playful tone in his voice, but the way he was suddenly looking at her made it impossible for Lia to react.
Dark green irises fixed on her, they drifted all over her face. 
Even standing on opposite sides of the living room, Harry focused on her in a way he hadn’t focused before. Giving her all of his attention. As if he was studying her every detail. Or as if he had never seen her before. Or as if he was mapping every left and right to remember a path he’d trail later in time. 
To be honest, it would be difficult for Lia to explain, but something about his stare made her stomach flutter. It caused a flush of shyness to spread from her shoulders to her neck, and all over her face. 
At the same time, though, his gaze comforted her. It made her feel like he was trying his best to be gentle to her. It made her feel like he was being honest with her. Like he somehow cared for her.
“Shit,” Harry murmured, breaking the moment and looking down to his pants. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, staring at the screen as it flashed between his fingers. “It’s Sagey.”
Oh. 
He sighed, yet didn’t make any effort to act on it. 
“I should go back.” 
Lia cleared her throat, then crossed her arms under her chest. 
“Right. Of course.”
“I wouldn’t, but…”
“You have to work.”
“Yeah.”
Time froze as they silently looked at each other. 
It felt exciting, even though at moments it took everything inside her not to run away from the intensity of his gaze. 
“Sagey is still getting used to everything,” he suddenly added. “And I know she can handle it, but I don’t wanna leave her by herself for too long. Can be kind of hectic sometimes.” 
Lia shrugged, pulling her lips into the most genuine smile she could find inside her. “You don’t need to explain yourself.” 
“I know, yeah. I just…”
Harry looked down, and Lia tilted her head to the side.
What, Harry? 
You just... What?!
He sighed.
“You believe I’m sorry, right?”
Lia didn’t have to force a smile after his words—it came out naturally as she nodded.
“I do, yes.”
“Ok. Good.” He looked over his shoulder, towards the door. “I’ll get going, then.”
“Right. Let me open the door for you.” Lia walked around the coffee table, as fast and as far away from him as she could.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind the fact that she wasn’t going to walk him downstairs—she didn’t think she would be able to handle any more awkward conversations with him.
Harry followed her lead, taking a few steps closer to the door before he cleared his throat. 
“You should come by tonight… If you’re free, of course.”
As she opened the door, Lia furrowed her brows. She stepped aside, then faced him again. 
Harry chuckled, shrugging lightly and walking outside. 
“To the bar, I mean. Feel like I owe you a drink.” 
Oh… 
Lia rested her temple against the frame, half-smiling at him. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Yeah, I do. For being rude to you.”
“Harry, stop. I—”
“Look,” he said, raising both hands in the air and showing his palms to her, “all I’m offering you is a free drink. That’s all, ok? No pressure.”
There was no way she was going to walk into the bar that night, or any other any time soon. But he didn’t need to know that, so Lia bit back a smile, and nodded.
“Okay. Sure. Thank you, then.”
“Ok.” Harry smiled. “Great. Then… I guess I’ll… Well…” 
“Yes?”
“Bye, Lia.”
“Bye, Harry.”
“Have a good night.”
Lia chuckled. “Thanks. You too.” 
“See you soon.”
“See you.” 
“Bye.”
“Goodbye, Harry.”
“Actually…” 
He ran back up, and Lia laughed.
“Oh my God.”
“Sorry.” He smiled. “I was just wondering, and you can say no if you want, of course, but… Would it be okay for me to ask your phone number?”
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(TWO)
276 notes · View notes
ireneispunk · 5 months ago
Text
Just a Taste
Moder AU Aemond Targaryen x female coworker reader smut (requested)
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request: 'Hi Irene! Can I request a lovely smutty modern aemond x reader where they're friends but not quite. Reader thinks aemond is annoying and aemond thinks reader is cute so he teases her a lot. They're at a work party and Aemond gets annoyed when others tease and flirt with her so he drags reader off to another room and marks her as his. Thank you thank you!'
w.c: 3278
c.w: SMUT 18+, frustration to lovers (??), oral f receiving, unprotected p in v sex, aemond and reader work together in modern au, me not knowing how grown up office jobs work :)
a.n: thank you so much for the request! sorry it too me so long but i hope you love it!
i'm starting an aemond and jacaerys perma taglist cus of my inconsistent positng teehee, let me know if / which you wish to be on!
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You groaned taking a look at the time on your monitor, it was somehow only halfway through the day. You typed away endlessly, watching as the minute ticked to 1pm. You exhaled, before making your way to the break room, greeting the few other members of staff in there. You heard the shuffling as some people made their way in or out, clicking on the kettle for your tea. You felt a presence behind you, and you already knew who it was before looking. “What do you want Aemond? Just to admire the view?” You spoke, throwing a teabag in your mug. He scoffed lightly, stepping to the side of you and leaning his palm against the counter.
“I came to offer my condolences,” you turned your head to face him and raised your eyebrows. His light hair tied back in its signature bun, shirt sleeves half rolled up. “I heard Robberts accepted my proposal over yours.” He spoke so smugly, begging for a reaction out of you. You turned to the fridge, pulling out the milk and rolling your eyes once he couldn’t see you.
“Yeah, I did hear about that unfortunate slip in his judgement.” Your fingers tapped upon the countertop, waiting for the hot water. “Though I do recall it was my last four? Was it? That beat out yours.”  A small chuckle left his lips as his arms folded across his front.
“I do love when you bare your teeth and indulge me.” He said lowly only addressing you.
You puffed out a sigh, turning to put the milk away. “If you spent half as much time on your research as you did being insufferable maybe you’d have a better shot.”
“You wound me.” He dramatically placed his hand over his heart.
“Mmm, that’s the idea.” You spoke almost absent mindedly, opening the cupbpard above you to find the sugar jar empty. You let out a frustrated groan, tilted your head back and closing your eyes.
“Are these something you’d want?” You turned to face Aemond, his large hands holding out small sugar packets. Your eyes went wide, noticing it was the good brand too.
“Where did you get those!” You exclaimed, a smile reaching your lips.
“Linda’s desk.” He replied, smirk across his face. Yours dropped slightly. Linda.
“Linda from accounting?” You groaned remembering the time you used the unassigned parking spot she claimed was hers. “I think she might actually spill blood if she notices them gone.” He laughed and as you reached for the packets he pulled his hand back, you furrowed your brows and looked up at him before trying to grab them from him again. He lifted them up above his head, the movement untucked the front of his shirt slightly. You couldn’t even fight the immediate urge to look at the exposed skin, his toned stomach and light happy trail brought a warmth to your face. You tore your eyes away returning them to Aemond’s, he eyed you with a small smirk playing at his lips.
“Give me the sugar Aemond.” You tried to speak in a stern manner but found it hard to considering the heat across your cheeks. He tilted his head to the side slightly, looking expectantly. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms leaving your palm open. “Please?” You questioned. He smiled widely place the packets in your palm, his fingers grazing over yours ever so slightly. He made his way out of the breakroom as you tried to simmer your racing heart. You watched as he paused for a moment, turning back around to you and resting his palm upon the door frame.
“See you Saturday.” He said with a smirk. You shot him a puzzled look, before realisation washed over you.
You grimaced lightly, “Wouldn’t miss it.” You said flatly. He poked his tongue into his cheek in amusement before disappearing off behind the wall.
You cursed under your breath as you made it back to your desk. A hand slamming down on your desk made you jump and look up. Your office friend stood above you looking expectantly. “A little birdy told me you haven’t made some boring excuse to miss the party tomorrow!” Her excitement reverberated through your cubicle. You shot her a ‘keep it down’ glare as she threw her hands up and squatted next to where you sat.
“I forgot to orchestrate a family emergency, but there’s still time break a bone.” You took a sip of your drink. She huffed, pushing your arm lightly.
“The financial year ends on the same day every year… I think you just wanted the excuse to see Aemond again.” She giggled watching your eyes go wide.
“Absolutely not! He is the bane of my existence, I’m pretty sure he is punishment for whatever I did in a past life.” You couldn’t lie to yourself though, ever since Aemond joined your firm it had made things more entertaining at some points, if not a whole lot more frustrating too.
She raised her brows, peering over the top of your desk slightly to ensure the coast was clear. “The punishment could be a little less delicious don’t you think?” You scoffed, trying to become absorbed in your work. She rose to her feet and was a few feet away from your desk before turning back to exclaim, “Ooh! Wear something sexy!”, Your jaw hung open, but no words fell out. Your colleague beside you raised a brow at you as you face flushed.
It felt as if hours had passed as you sat upon your bedroom floor upon a mess of clothes. You watched as the clock ticked, you were technically already running late to the “it’s not mandatory but we’d love each and every one of you to show up and celebrate with us!” party. Your head looked between two dresses laid out in front of you, one black and the other in your favourite colour. The black was the obligatory ‘there but unused funeral dress’ you had, the other verged on being the perfect dress. You put it on one last time and looked in the mirror, it was tighter than what you were used to, short but not so short you had to worry, and the colour complimented your complexion perfectly. You felt beautiful in this dress and glanced back at the black one once more deciding whether to play it safe. You phone chimed upon your bed, and you opened the message from your friend.
It was a mirror selfie in the bathroom with a drink in hand. ‘Don’t pussy out.’ The message read. You rolled your eyes before another message chimed through, ‘ps. bar has free drinks’. You laughed lightly before sliding your heels on and grabbing your jacket. You replied back with a short ‘on the way’ before climbing into your taxi.
You arrived at your office building, the height seeming daunting all of a sudden. You passed a few faces you knew, smoking besides the entrance, and exchanged a few hellos. Your shoes clicked across the marble floors as you made your way to the lift. A nervousness bubbled within you as it went past the floor you worked on up to one of the top floors that served as a function room. The doors opened and to your relief, revealed a bustling party. You stepped out paused at the top of the small set of stairs that led down to the main floor and eyed the room. You vaguely remembered the layout from your first week and tour of the building, but you had never seen it in action, and you couldn’t deny it looked good. The one empty bar was replaced with two mixologists pouring various liquids, the lights were dimmed, with lamps and string lights casting a warm glow upon the room. The music was loud enough to engulf the room but did not deafen you. You fiddled with your sleeve for a moment, scanning the room for your friend, before pulling your jacket from your shoulders and leaving it with the others. Your fingers grazed against the cool metal banister as you stepped down the stairs. Your heart pounded in your chest, feeling it click with every step of your heel. Maybe it was your late arrival, your dressed up look, the lull in music as it changed tracks, or a combination of the three but you caught the attention of a few pairs of eyes on the floor beneath you. Your eyes looked towards the floor before a loud voice calling out to you made you jump. You looked up to see your friend with a wide grin across her face waving out to you, her exclamation had attracted the attention of a few of your coworkers as they glanced between the two of you. You quickly stepped down the rest of the stairs to meet her and shushed her, linking your arms. You both made your way over to the seating at the bar as she rambled incessantly about all the unmissable things you had missed.
You pushed yourself up onto the barstool and smiled at the bartender as your drink of choice was slid towards you. You watched as your friend laughed through her stories before quickly exclaiming she needed to use the restroom again. You smiled to yourself, you were glad she was here or else you’d find it harder to be comfortable. Just as quickly as she left, another presence joined you. You looked up, seeing Aemond leaning with his back against the bar. His eyes shamelessly scanned your body, appreciating the parts he had never seen before, and admiring how your dress fit you. His eyes met yours, his signature smirk plastered across his lips. “Can I buy you a drink?” he questioned.
“It’s an open bar?” You retorted; brows furrowed.
“Then I can buy you two.” You laughed at his ridiculousness but nodded your head. Aemond smiled to himself, he earnt a genuine laugh from you, and it was the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. You took a moment to take in his appearance, a dark shirt covering his chest with the top button undone, his long silver hair cascading over his shoulders instead of thrown into a bun. A faint blush painted your cheeks as he caught your eyes on him, yet he did not taunt you as he usually would. The conversation flowed between you, about work, shows, both of your overly competitive sides showing at times. Your head threw back in laughter at one of his remarks, your hand gripping his forearm as you laughed. As soon as you noticed you removed it and placed it back around your drink. Aemond watched you intently. You never wanted to give anything away, never reveal that you wanted him too, yet your body betrayed you.
Your time was interrupted as one of your colleagues joined you on your other side. He addressed you directly, then nodded his head towards Aemond who merely rose a brow. “Hi Alex.” Your response was blunt, this was the first time he’d spoken to you in months. Unlike Aemond, you felt disgusting under his gaze, his eyes never met yours, opting to settle on your breasts even as you spoke.
“Is there something you need?” Aemond spoke, a hint of annoyance in his voice. You looked towards him, fingers digging into the edge of the bar.
“Oh, yeah. Big boss wants you. Something about the appraisal on your report.” Alex grinned, he seemed happy to watch Aemond curse under his breath and walk across the room towards your boss. You smiled flatly taking a large sip of your drink. He continued to talk at you, not realising your disinterest from your ‘oh really’, ‘wow’, and ‘cool’ roster of responses. It felt as if hours passed but in reality, it had only been a few minutes. Never so badly had you wanted Aemond glued to your hip.
Aemond stood talking to his boss, trying to hurry the conversation along so he could return to your side. Every time he looked back to the bar, anger bubbled from within him. “So by next Monday?” Snapped him from burning holes into your back.
“Yes, Monday.” He answered immediately catching a few people off guard. His boss thanked him and Aemond shook a few hands before making his way back to you. His fists clenched beside him as he weaved through the huddles of people. He knew you didn’t care for Alex. He listened to your laugh; he knew it was your fake laugh because he had made you laugh properly all evening.
You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling of a hand upon your shoulder. You looked up to see Aemond with a look on his face you had never seen before, pure anger. His fingers burned into your flesh. “I need to borrow you for a moment.” He didn’t allow you to respond before he had pulled you by your hand from the bar stool and back towards the stairs. You struggled to keep up with his long strides in your heels as you called his name. He pushed open a door to a room you had never been in before to reveal a dark desolate meeting room. He swiftly shut the door and clicked the lock on it, turning to face you.
“Aemond what-“ He cut you off with a kiss, his hands reaching the sides of your face. As you registered what was happening your pressed both hands against his chest and pushed him away. You watched his face, your chest rising and falling at a quick pace. You felt hunger take over your body and stepped back towards him. “Kiss me again.” You whispered. Moments as the words left your lips his hand returned to your cheek and his lips brushed yours before kissing you deeply. His lips fit against yours in a perfectly satisfying way. His body pressed against yours, pushing you until the backs of your thighs hit the cool table. He pulled his lips from yours as they found your neck, tongue running across the softness beneath your ear. You let out a gasp as his teeth grazed across your throat, biting slightly and kissing every mark he left.
“Sit for me.” He spoke between kisses. Aemond’s tone spread a heat in your lower stomach. The sound of champagne popping snapped you out of your haze, eyes shooting towards the door.
“But what if someone knows.” You whispered. You bit your lip, as Aemond’s fingers brushed the hem of your dress and against your thighs.
His lips left your neck as he looked you in the eye. With nothing but the moonlight glowing up the room, he looked angelic, with a devilish smirk upon his lips. “The music is loud enough. Sit.”
You nodded, sitting upon the table, the cool lacquered wood hitting your thighs. He placed one more kiss upon your lips before sinking to his knees in front of you. He pushed your knees apart, settling between your thighs. Chills ran over your body as he peppered kissed from your knee to your upper thigh. You watched him, nervous look on your face. His hand reached your lower stomach and pushed against it slightly, “Lay down, you’ll enjoy it more.” He mumbled against your thigh. You swallowed, laying back against the table and trying to ignore the thudding in your chest. His fingers hiked the edge of your dress around your hips, a small groan escaping his lips at the sight of your clothed pussy. He placed kisses at your inner thighs before placing an open-mouthed kiss over your clit. You felt a jolt travel through your body as he slid your panties to the side. He hummed, his middle fingers grazed upon your pussy before delving inside, slowly bottoming out within you over and over. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt Aemond’s tongue latch upon your clit, circling it softly. You propped yourself up on your elbow, you free hand making its way into Aemond’s silver hair. Your fingers gripped the strands, pulling him closer to you. His tongue responded by picking up the pace as he angled his fingers upwards, grazing that sweet spot inside of you. Your stomach tightened as Aemond raced you towards your peak. You looked down between your legs to meet his gaze already watching you, causing your orgasm to wash over you. It took all of your strength to not clamp your thighs shut, letting him coax a final few moans from your lips.
You watched as he rose to his feet, towering over your body splayed out upon the table. You sat up, hand snaking around his neck to pull him back into a kiss, much hungrier than before. Your hands ran down his chest, the softness of his shirt hiding the strength of his chest. Your fingertips untucked the shirt from his trousers before you felt Aemond’s hand across your cheek, his thumb resting upon your chin. Pulling back from the kiss, you watched as he undid the buckle on his belt, pulling it from his waist in a way that made your cheeks flare. It clanked to the ground, as he pulled his trousers down enough to expose his cock, your jaw going slack at the sight of it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips found yours as he lined himself up with your pussy. You jolted slightly as he inserted himself, a loud moan leaving your lips as he filled you up. His thrusts started slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size before you brought your legs up and wrapped them around his waist. His forehead rested against yours, as he hissed slightly at the new angle. Aemond’s pace quickened as your relaxed into his arms, moans leaving your lips that delicately grazed against his.
Your nails dug into the top of his back, eyes screwing shut as a flurry of praises escaped your lips. Aemond groaned, pulling you impossibly close, your breasts pressing against his chest and his head finding the crook of your neck to torment again. You dropped your head to the other side, allowing him to explore your neck as he fucked you. As another orgasm approached you, your fingers found his hair once again, pulling lightly as pleasure took over your body. Your legs crossed behind him as his thrusts repeatedly edged you closer. A final scream of his name and your pussy tightening in pleasure caused him to curse and bury his hips deep into you, filling you with his seed. His breathing was raggedy as his head rested upon your shoulder, lazily kissing it.
You adjusted your dress, eyeing your dishevelled reflection in the reflection of the window. A familiar pair of hands met your waist, sliding around to your front. You sighed as his chin rested upon your shoulder, turning your head to face him. You admired the way the moon illuminated his light hair, the faded scar that ran down his cheek framing his beauty. “I can’t think of anything worse than going back out to that party.” You hummed, placing your hands over his.
Aemond laughed lightly, turning you to face him and weaving his fingers between yours. “What if we didn’t?” He questioned, his usual smirk finding its way back to his face. You hummed inquisitively. “There’s no party at my place.” He shrugged lightly. You thought for a moment, before grinning and pulling him by his arm, a genuine smile of adoration planted firmly upon his face as you did.
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w1nchesterz · 6 months ago
Text
DIRTY LITTLE SECRET
lewis hamilton x russell!reader
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in which lewis hamilton sneaks around with his teammates older sister however it doesn’t end up how she wants it to.
MASTERLIST
warnings: 18+, angst, fluff, age gap, smut: fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), fingering, needy sex.
word count: 3.2k
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Despite being George Russell’s older sister, the girl had still fallen so madly in love with his much older teammate. He was 39, whilst the girl was only 30.
She had first properly met the older man in 2022, when her younger brother had joined the Mercedes team.
As soon as her eyes fell onto him, his long sleeves rolled up to the elbow, his brown, gorgeous puppy-dog eyes. His dark skin had beautiful freckles dusting his cheeks, a short beard framing his face which he often ran his fingers through whenever he concentrated.
His hair was in dreads, however they always seemed to be tied up into a high ponytail. He had a few tattoos, and piercings which ultimately gave off the ‘bad boy’ aura he seemed to desperately try to pull off.
As he spoke to Toto Wolff, the team principal, he cracked a few jokes — which caused Lewis to laugh loudly.
It was a beautiful sound which filled her ears, her own lips twitching up into a smile as her eyes fell on his large smile, the small gap in his teeth evident.
George, who was stood by her side scoffed loudly, his hand resting on his hip. His sudden noise pulled the girls attention away from the majestic man, and onto her brother.
“What?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed into a frown as she shook her head gently.
George couldn’t help but laugh, at the confused expression that was etched onto her features, “Sorry, I just find it hilarious how you’re drooling over Lewis.”
It was now her turn to scoff, as she quickly dug her elbow deep into her younger brother’s ribs, a scowl on her face, “I am not drooling.”
“Are you sure? I see a little uh…” He pointed to around her mouth, wiggling his finger about as a smug smile tugged at his lips, “Drool, there. Just there.” He teased, and his sister was quick to slap his hand away.
Lewis watched from afar, a close-lipped smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he watched the interaction go down between the siblings.
The girl felt his gaze practically burning into her skin, and she soon straightened up, fixing her hair before rolling her eyes at her younger brothers antics.
She looked over to Lewis, catching his gaze. She could feel her cheeks grow hot beneath his eyes, but she pushed the flutter of her stomach down as she mouthed, “Good luck!” Before pointing at her brother with a small giggle.
She earned a laugh from Lewis, and she said her goodbye to her younger brother before leaving the Mercedes garage.
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It was six months later, when the girl was awoken at the dead of night by the ping of her phone.
Confused at who was messaging her so late at night, she opened her phone to see a message from an unknown number.
Hey, is this Y/N?
She furrowed her eyebrows, quickly typing a quick response.
Yeah, who’s this?
She anxiously bit at the inside of her lip as she awaited a response, her heart beating so loud she could hear it in her ears.
Sorry, it’s Lewis. Did I wake you?
It was past midnight, and she could feel the tiredness of being awoken by his message behind her eyes. The light of the screen burning into her eyes, making her have to blink it away every now and again.
No, it’s fine. Did you need something?
She quickly typed back, and she saw that he had opened the message almost immediately, but didn’t respond for a few minutes. She saw how the typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then reappeared multiple times.
She sighed, shutting her phone off and stuffing it into her pyjama shorts pocket, getting up from her bed to grab herself a bottle of water.
By the time that she had grabbed herself a bottle of water from the fridge, and made her way over to her white couch, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket and she immediately assumed it to be Lewis.
You really are slow, aren’t you?
The girl couldn’t help but let out an offended gasp, she didn’t appreciate his attitude in the slightest.
Pardon?
She scoffed, rolling her eyes before slamming her phone down onto the plush cushion of the couch, annoyance bubbling in her chest.
Yeah, she had a bit of a crush on him, but she had never expected him to speak to her like that.
It took no longer than two minutes for a response back, and she sighed with annoyance as she heard her phone ping for what felt like the 100th time that night.
It’s not what I need, it’s who I need.
Her eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown, she didn’t know whether he wasn’t making any sense, or she was that tired that it wasn’t going into her head right.
Lew, what are you on about?
She stared at the message, trying to make sense of it before her phone buzzed again within the space of a few seconds.
God dammit, Y/N.
It’s you. I need you.
The girls heart skipped a beat, the one thing she had wanted for 6 months straight had started to come true.
For real?
She didn’t even have enough time to turn her phone off before she got a response.
God, yes. Come over.
Room 406.
I’m on my way.
She smirked, blushing profusely at her phone as if she was back in high school, getting giddy over her hallway crush asking her out or something along those lines.
She quickly got herself ready, dressing into clothes that exposed her best features — a short skirt that exposed her upper thighs, something she had caught Lewis staring at on multiple occasions, and a blouse which she left the top buttons undone, revealing her cleavage.
She knew the clothes would be ripped from her, ending up in a pile on his floor but she didn’t care, she was finally getting what she had wanted for so long.
She ran a brush through her sleep-mangled hair before rushing from her hotel room, walking down the hall to his room, which luckily was only a few doors down.
Here.
She messaged him quickly, raising her arm to knock on the door. Just before her knuckles made contact with the door, it swung open on its hinges, with enough force to be pulled off.
A loud gasp escaped her parted lips at the sight of him, the familiar heat pooling between your legs. He was shirtless, showing off his perfect, tatted abs, and only sported a pair of grey joggers which easily showed the imprint of his dick.
Her eyes widened at the sight, she could tell he was big. Bigger than average.
Lewis quickly grasped his large hands around her delicate wrist, pulling her desperately into the hotel room before slamming the door behind him.
“Fuck, gorgeous.” He rasped under his breath, instantly reaching his hand around the base of her neck, the other gently caressed her face.
The Russell girl sucked in a sharp breath, staring into his chocolate brown eyes, him staring into her blue ones.
His juicy lips were parted, breathing heavily as he admired the beauty of his teammates sister in front of him.
George was going to kill him. But that was the least of his worries as he now had her where he wanted, in his hotel room, about to fuck.
He licked his lips, staring down at her plump ones, as he inched forward, his breath hot on her cheek.
He ducked his head slightly, placing open-mouthed kisses along her neck, occasionally nipping at the skin, leaving purple splotches behind.
She pushed her head forward slightly, their lips connecting in a horny clash of teeth and tongue. She could sense the older man’s desperation in the way his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her close, her inner thigh resting against his hard dick.
She let out a gasp as the feeling of his clothed dick against her bare thigh sent shivers down her spine and added to the warmth pooling between her legs.
“You look so good f’me.” Lewis murmured between the passionate kisses, his hand sneaking beneath her shirt.
He looked up at her to ask for permission, and as soon as he received a nod as an answer, his hands ventured further up her top, and beneath her bra.
He massaged her breasts, pinching at her nipples which earned a half-gasp, half-moan from her mouth.
“Fuck. You don’t know what you do to me.” He mumbled, continuing his harsh attack on her nipples, “God, the amount of times i’ve had to touch myself, because you’ve been walking about in those short skirts and silly little crop tops.”
The girls cunt clenches around nothing, and she let out a soft whiny whimper as she immediately thought of Lewis, fucking his hand because of herself.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, Lew.” She whined, and Lewis regretted not asking her sooner.
“Should’ve asked you sooner, hm?” Lewis asked with a smirk of his lips, and the girl nodded as another whimper spilled from her lips.
“Can I?” He asked, looking down at her. His eyes were dark, full of lust as his hand hovered over her blouse, asking to remove the offending item of clothing.
Her cheeks blushed profusely, and she nodded again.
“C’mon, words, princess. Use them.” He tsked, raising an eyebrow in her direction as she clenched her thighs together as an attempt to release the pooling arousal in her panties.
“Please.” She begged, a whiny tone to her voice as he quickly attacked her clothes, unbuttoning his clothes as if his life depended on it. He then trailed his hands up and down her body, quickly unzipping the skirt as if he couldn’t get it off fast enough before he tossed it to the floor alongside her blouse.
Without any warning, he quickly ducked down momentarily and scooped her up, earning a loud yell that escaped from her lips. A mischievous smirk played onto his lips as he looked down at the girl in his arms.
“My princess needs a bed, no?” He asked rhetorically, in response to the girl’s yelp and giggling.
Once they reached his bedroom, he slowly and gently lowered her to the plush bedding.
“I need you.” Lewis groaned, a deep, guttural noise that just adds to the pool of arousal in her panties. She needed him.
Lewis lowered himself between the V of her legs, his finger hooking against the waistband of her lace panties, and he looked up at her once more, asking for permission again.
“Yes.” She nodded with a soft giggle, and as soon as he removed the thin piece of lace, she could feel his hot breath against her sodden cunt.
Another half-moan, half-gasp left her mouth as he held onto her thighs, keeping them open.
He ran a finger along the lips of her pussy, collecting the slick as a groan left his lips, “So fucking wet already, baby.”
He instantly attached his lips against her clit, causing her back to arch up from the bed. The sound of her moans filled the room as he lapped at her cunt like it was the first time he’d eaten in days.
Each time he paused to take a breath he would mutter something along the lines of, “My good girl” and “So delicious, baby.” Each praise he made added to the heat between her legs, and Lewis could feel the way her aching hole tightened around nothing.
Every now and again, he pushed his tongue into her hole, which caused the girl to jerk up on instinct.
Lewis moaned into her pussy, the vibrations going straight to her core, her walls clenching around his tongue.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” He muttered, and she started fisting the sheets beside her, as if it would do anything.
“Fuck, Lew! I’m so close!” She cried out, as he continued his torturous attack on her clit.
The moan that escaped her lips when he pushed a finger inside sounded downright pornographic as he started to curl his finger upward. Each time it hit her sweet spot, threatening to push her over the edge.
“Please, Lew..” She moaned loudly, the familiar knots forming in her stomach as she got closer.
Lewis’ eyes were transfixed on the sight before him, his finger pumping in and out of her tight pussy.
Something he had only fantasised about.
“Cum for me, pretty girl.” He spoke, his voice had a low gravelly tone to it as he continued his malicious attack on her clit.
As soon as those words left his perfect lips, her orgasm washed over her, her juices spilling onto his fingers.
“Just like that, my good girl.” He praised as she came, her back arching from the white sheets of his bed as her legs shook.
If she hadn’t just came, she probably would’ve at the praises alone.
“Fuck, Lew.” She muttered, her hair sticking to her skin as she relaxed into the soft bedding.
The older man pulled his finger from the girls sodden cunt, and he stuck it into his mouth, eating up her release from his own finger.
“Taste so good, baby.” He praised, pulling his finger from his mouth with a soft pop,“God, I can’t wait to stuff you full with my dick.”
“Please.” She begged, her mouth watering at the idea of his dick inside of her. Once the words left her mouth, Lewis was quick to pull down his grey joggers, leaving him in his boxers.
Her mouth opened slowly at the sight of him, his abs, thick thighs and the bulge in his boxers was very evident.
“God, princess, I’ve needed this all night.” He groaned as he took a step closer to his girl on the bed, he ran his hands up and down her basically naked body.
“We don’t need this anymore, do we?” He laughed gently, his arms snaking around her bra clasp as she shook her head in agreement. He removed the black lace and tossed it to the floor carelessly.
“I need you.” The girl spoke as her fingers played with the waistband of his boxers, the same way he had done with hers, “Can I?”
“Of course, baby.” He groaned as his cock sprang free from his boxers, and the girl couldn’t help but gasp at his size.
“Like what you see?” He hummed as he climbed on top of her, trailing kisses from her belly button all the way up to her collarbone. He nipped at the skin, sucking harshly which caused purple splotches to form along her skin.
“Mhm.” She nodded eagerly, feeling his hard cock resting between her thighs, needing it. Needing him.
“Fuck, you don’t understand how often I’ve thought about fucking you, just like this.” He breathed heavily into her ear, causing a soft whimper to leave her swollen lips.
“Do it, please.” She begged, looking up at him through her lashes, a pleading expression evident on her features.
Lewis lined himself up, before pushing himself in slightly. The gaspy groan that left his lips was beautiful, and it sent jolts of electricity through her body.
The sting of the slight stretch was delicious, and she let out a moan as she nodded for him to continue.
Once he finally bottomed out, his breathing became heavy in her ear as he let out a string of praises, “Fuck. You’re so tight, taking me like a good girl. My good girl.”
The feeling of her tight, bare cunt around his large cock felt heavenly, and he couldn’t help but groan as he pulled himself out slightly, just to thrust back in.
As he thrusted in and out of her, he leant forward, continuing his meticulous attack on her neck — leaving sloppy kisses along her neck.
Loud moans from the girl and grunts from Lewis echoed around the girl, the sounds of praises and slapping skin filling the room.
Neither of them cared about the age gap as he relentlessly pounded into her tight cunt, neither of them cared about how her brother would hate Lewis for what he was doing to his sister right now.
All they cared about was each other.
She let out a loud moan as he continued to hit her g-spot, ramming into it with force each time which caused her to teeter over the edge of orgasm.
“Fuck. Want you to cum on my cock.” Lewis groaned into her ear, his breath hot on her exposed neck.
“I’m so close, Lew! Please!” She babbled, her moans becoming louder and louder as he messily thrusted into her even tighter pussy.
He moved his hand down to her clit, rubbing it harshly which caused a slight scream to leave her lips. The added pleasure caused her back to arch from the bed once more, her walls pulsating around his cock.
Lewis was impossibly close to cumming, both breathing heavy as they neared to their orgasms.
“Fuck, baby, just like that. Gonna cum in this sweet pussy, yeah?” Lewis grunted as he thrusted into her messily, and she nodded frantically at the idea of him filling her up with his cum.
As he groaned into her ear, he pushed her over the edge as he added more pressure to her clit.
Her eyes were screwed shut as she came over his cock, letting out a loud cry. Her body shook, her back arched and Lewis let out a loud groan as he spilled into her, a mixture of their releases leaking out of her hole.
“Good girl, you did so good f’me.” His breathing heavy as he tried to catch his breath.
Once he caught his breath, he quickly lifted himself up, disappearing momentarily before returning with her clothes that he placed on the edge of the bed and a damp washcloth to clean her up.
As he leant over her, he bit at his lip anxiously, which caused her to sit up with furrowed brows, “Is something wrong, Lew?” He hesitated for a moment, helping her clothe herself.
“No, no..” He mumbled, sighing deeply before he decided to say what was eating at him, “You can’t tell anyone about this.”
Those words alone caused her blood to run cold, her face dropping from her post-orgasm glow to a look of hurt.
“What?” She asked, her heart sinking.
He noticed the broken look in her eyes, and he felt his own heart sink slightly. But no one could find out, especially not George.
“If this gets out, George wouldn’t forgive me, and given the circumstances…” He trailed off, hinting at the 9 year age gap between them, “It wouldn’t end well if everyone found out.“
He reached out for her hand, and she reluctantly accepted it, her heart still aching for the man in front of her. All she wanted was him, to be loved by the man who only wanted sex, and not to be his dirty little secret.
For months after, the two snuck around — because she believed that having some of Lewis was better than none.
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415 notes · View notes
mayajadewrites · 6 months ago
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my type: shouta aizawa x dancer! reader
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✦ synopsis: you're a dancer at a club that a certain erasure hero frequents every night after patrol. he's never talked to anyone before, until one night you decide to change that.
✦ content warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, strippers
✦ relationships: aizawa x fem!reader
ao3
Every night, at 2AM on the dot, Pro Hero Eraserhead lingers into the club. You started noticing about 2 months ago when he would come in, order a few beers, and just watch.
He never got dances, though many, many dancers have asked him if he would like one. Even for free.
You've kept your distance from the raven-haired man, his yellow goggles pushed up against his hair. He seemed like bad news, and you wanted no parts.
During your stage time, you noticed him in the crowd. He wasn't in his hero uniform though, so maybe it was his night off.
Why was he here on his night off?
He exuded mysteriousness.
Your outfit tonight was all black - a black bikini with a mesh long sleeve crop top over it. You wore black metallic shorts that gave little to the imagination, with platform black heels.
You took your normal walk around the club, saying hi to some of your regulars and chatting with your fellow dancers.
Eraserhead with sat at a loveseat, his legs spread in the cockiest way.
"Have you ever given him a dance?" You asked one of the dancers. "Eraserhead."
"No, but GOD do I want to." She turned to look at him, biting her bottom lip. "He's so sexy. But he just comes here to drink I guess."
"Why not go to a bar then?"
"Girl I don't know. Why don't you ask him." She gently pushed between your shoulders to his direction.
His eyes were already locked on you as he sipped his drink.
They never left you once he locked eyes with you.
"Well if it isn't my favorite Pro Hero." You sit down next to him in the loveseat.
"Hello." His voice was deep. Deep as fuck. Not what you were expecting from a man who has never said one word in here.
"You know, I've seen you around." You crossed your legs - your thick thighs on display. "None of the girls have danced for you, though."
"I don't want any of them." He turned his head to take a sip of his drink, which looked like whiskey.
"Why not? They're gorgeous and can dance really well."
"Not my type."
"So what is your type, Eraserhead?" You lean into his space more, giving him a nice view of your tits.
"I prefer thicker women." He eyed your body up and down. "Ones that wear all black." He set his cup down on the table in front of him. "Ones that have the fattest ass I've ever seen."
"I've been here every time you were, so why didn't you say anything? Or ask for a dance?"
"What's your name?"
"My name here Rogue."
"Well, Rogue, every time I've wanted to you're already with someone and then you leave since the club closes at 3. I get here at 2."
"Tonights your lucky night then, hm?" You drag your nails along his black pants, stopping at his thigh. "Is that why you came here on your night off? To see me, Eraser?"
"Call me Shouta."
"Shouta." You repeated, your heart racing. He smelled like a mixture of musk, vanilla and cedar wood. His scent filled your nostrils as you moved your body just an inch closer to him.
"How much for a dance?" He pulled his leather wallet out of his pants pocket, revealing crisp bills.
"A private dance is $300."
"Heres $600." Shouta handed you the bills. He leaned in, his lips just grazing your ear. You grabbed his hand and lead him to the private rooms, which have a loveseat, LED lights, and a coffee table.
His hand is large and veiny, but soft and gentle, contrary to his appearance. You gently push him down onto the loveseat, watching his legs spread as he fixes his pants, most likely due to his erection.
You place your hands on his thighs as you start to move with the beat of the song that's on. Shouta stares at you, swallowing your entire figure with his eyes. You turned around and bent over to shake your ass and thighs, his lips parted just enough for you to tell he was enjoying this. Really enjoying this.
You ran your hands up and down your curves, his eyes focused on your thick, plush thighs as you danced.
You turned around to face him once more as you settle yourself into his lap - straddling him.
Your arms drape over his shoulders as you grind your hips on top of him, your clothed core soaked. You wonder if he can feel it.
His hands remained on the sides of his legs as you danced on him, refusing to give you the satisfaction you so desperately want.
Shouta's raven hair was beautiful and you needed to have your fingers in it. You wanted to feel the strands of his hair intertwined with your fingers.
He's just staring at you as you move, waiting to see what you do next.
You're becoming impatient. And annoyed that he isn't giving you the validation that you're chasing from him. You're usually confident - after all, this is your job. But Shouta is different.
You place your dainty hands on his chest and you can feel his muscles through the fabric. God, what you would do to see what's underneath.
"Handsy are we?" Shouta finally spoke, his voice smooth like velvet.
"Eraser." You sighed as you hooked your ankles onto his leg.
"Shouta."
"Shouta," You pressed your palms into him. "I-I want,"
"Use your words." Shouta grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger. "My quirk isn't mind reading."
Why was he making you so tongue-tied?
"I want you to touch me." You flipped your hair to one side as you spoke.
"Show me where." He put his hands up in front of you so you can grab them. "Put them where you want me to touch you."
You almost let out a whimper as you pull one hand to your the front of your neck, the other on your aching cunt.
Shouta's facial expression didn't change though. He still looked serious. Still barely looked like he wanted to be there. You moved his hands again, one to your breast and the other on your ass, to which he couldn't help but squeeze gently.
"Can I show you were I want to touch you?" Shouta leaned into your ear, his breath dancing on your skin. You nod, eager to feel him touch you at his own accord.
He mimicked where you placed his hands, but dragged his hands from your ass to your thighs. This man is definitely obsessed with thighs and would do anything to get in between yours.
"Let's get out of here." You leaned into him, your lips almost touching.
"Meet me in the parking lot."
-
You walked out into the cold night air, scanning the parking lot to find Shouta. You're wearing an oversized black hoodie with black biker shorts and slides.
You spot him leaning against his car with his arms crossed, looking sexy as fuck.
"You might look more gorgeous like that." He opened the passenger door for you before speeding off to your destination.
He wasted absolutely no time grabbing you once you were in his space. His apartment is clean and dark when his hands found your waist, pulling you into a frenzied kiss.
His lips felt hot on yours as his hands snuck under your hoodie, pressing his cold hands onto your soft stomach. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" He whispered against your lips as his moves his hands up to your tits. "I've thought about you for 2 months. Every. Day."
"Now you wanna talk?" You smirk as you bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you. "You were so quiet at the club."
"There was only one person I wanted to talk to." He growled as his lips attached to your neck. You threw your head back as he found your sensitive spot, kissing and sucking on your skin.
He then moved back to your lips, his large hand wrapping around your neck gently. You felt his fingertips slightly squeeze as he kissed you so sensually that you thought you were going to come right then and there.
Your pussy ached for his touch. A whimper escaped your throat as he kissed you, unable to say more than two words.
"Bed, please."
"You're so needy." Shouta pulled away from you and grabbed your hand. He pulled you into his room and practically threw you on the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled physique. He's fucking beautiful.
You laid on your back as he crawled over you, his lips finding yours again. You let your hands explore his body - fingertips over each and every muscle. He pulled his hair into a bun as he kissed you, making sure nothing was in his way. Not a hair could ruin this sight.
"Off." He pulled on the hem of your hoodie. You obeyed, pulling the fabric over your head and revealing your lacy bra.
He dipped his head down to your chest, kissing your skin gently. His lips felt even hotter on your skin now.
"Shouta, please."
"What did I tell you about using your words?"
"I want you inside of me. Right now." You whine as you wrap your arms around his neck. "I can't wait anymore."
Shouta was silent as he dipped his hand inside your shirts, his middle finger finding your soaked cunt. He smirked as he pulled the finger out, staring at the almost glittering arousal on his fingertip.
"So wet for me already." He pushed the finger into his mouth, tasting you. "You want me right now, pretty girl?"
You nod as you kick your shorts and thong off. You help him with his belt and other barriers to his cock. Your fingertips danced on the elastic of his boxer briefs when you felt his hard cock through the fabric. Fuck, he's big.
"Go ahead." He watched you as you pulled his underwear down, his cock slapping against his abdomen. Your eyes grew wide at his size, but you're also nervous about him fitting inside of you.
You spread your legs, watching Shouta line himself with your soaking cunt. You feel his fat tip graze your slits, a moan leaving your mouth.
"Shh, my neighbors will hear." He smirked as he slowly pushed his tip inside of you. "Wouldn't want them to think I have some loud, inconsiderate brat in here." His muscular arms caged you in as he kissed your lips to ease his cock sliding inside of you.
"F-Fuck." You moan as you feel the entirety of Shouta Aizawa. Even though you're soaked, it's still work to get him all the way inside of you. "Shouta, you're so big."
"I know, baby." He pressed his hand to the back of your head, pushing you up to kiss him. "You're taking me so well."
Your eyes roll back as he gains his rhythm, his thrusts slow and deliberate. "That's right, pretty girl. Take my fat cock." He pushed himself inside you until the hilt, his balls hitting your ass.
Your gummy walls swallowed him once you got used to his size, clenching against his cock. In a frenzied kiss, your lips attached to his as he buried his cock into you.
The room filled with the lewd noises of your bodies and sinful moans. You could listen to Shouta moan all day.
"Rogue." He moaned, caressing your cheek.
You told him your name. Your real name.
"Don't call me Rogue ever again." You kiss his lips again, slipping your tongue inside. His pace quickened as he kissed you and you could feel yourself getting close.
Shouta must've felt your cunt clenching him because his large, calloused hand dipped to your clit, rubbing circles gently.
"Shouta, fuck!" You moan loading as he massaged your sensitive nub.
"Be quiet." He used his other hand to cover your mouth as he rubbed your clit and thrusted into you. "I don't need a noise complaint."
He kept his hand on your mouth as you began to lose control of your body. You closed your eyes as you swear you saw stars, the taste of Shouta's skin on your lips as he pushed his hand against your mouth.
"Mmm." You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his back. His strokes started to become sporadic, so he took his hand off your lips. You were coming down from your high as he was just approaching his.
"Fuck, baby, this pussy was made for me. You know that?" His breath was labored. "I could fuck you every day and never want another pussy. I'm gonna get you out of the club and take care of you." He pushed himself inside you once more, layering your gummy walls with his seed.
You both had to catch your breath from the life altering orgasms you just had. Shouta's skin was shiny from the sweat, some face framing pieces of his hair that fell out of his bun are sticking to his face. You pushed them behind his ear gently, kissing his lips.
"You're gonna take care of me, Shouta?" You smile as he kisses you back.
"Mm, yes." He pulls his cock out of you. You whimper from the loss of contact, not ready to be without him inside of you. "You'll make a pretty little housewife."
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beansandsprouts · 10 months ago
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Sunshine
Female reader. Sparse use of y/n.
Summary: Growing up, Bucky never thought he'd find his soulmate. Years and years and years of searching. Even Steve had found his. But you were nowhere to be found. Until he was living in the Avengers Tower. Until you happened to join the team.
Warnings: none
Considering making this a series, let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next one. I may consider doing a bit of a rewrite of it all on my other fanfic blog and add in some sweet smut in there. Everything on this blog will be kept mostly PG.
Bucky was irritated. He didn't see why there had to be this big deal about a new team member. And he didn't understand why he had to be there. They hadn't been told much about you. All Tony had said was you were ex-military, and that everyone typically called you Grim. As in Grim Reaper. Bucky had to admit he was curious to know what earned you that nickname.
With a callsign like that, you had to be ruthless. Cold blooded. So he wasn't expecting this cute bubbly thing to practically skip in alongside Tony with a huge grin. Though he could tell that belt buckle you had on was hiding a knife.
He was immediately taken with you. He'd been a heartthrob in his younger years, had no shortage of women throwing themselves at him. Though he hadn't really been with anyone since being freed from Hydra, though he'd seen pretty women. You, however, were completely different.
The warmth of your smile and twinkle in your eyes made his chest warm. He admired the shape of your lips and the way your jaw curved. Even the little glimpse of your collarbone had him tingling with an unfamiliar excitement.
"Alright, everyone this is our new teammate. I'll let you introduce yourself." I gestured for you to step forward.
"Hi, nice to meet you all. Name's y/n but most just call me Grim." You offered a bright smile.
Bucky felt his heart skip a beat when you spoke your name. Hell everytime he heard that name he got his hopes up, and without fail they'd been dashed. There was no way it was you. You were technically a lot younger than him, it'd be ridiculous if you were his soulmate.
Right?
Everyone else immediately greeted you warmly, your sunshiney demeanor immediately brought a feeling of ease to everyone around you. It didn't take long before you and Steve were swapping combat stories. Bucky sat quietly the entire time, taking you in. He was hoping to get a glimpse of your soulmate mark, wondering if it'd be his name written in his messy writing. But your damned long sleeves obscured even the tiniest glimpse of it.
Your laugh was like music to his ears. He felt breathless hearing that beautiful sound and watching the way your face changed. You were gorgeous. Even the way you blinked had him enamored.
He swallowed hard as you giggled and playfully nudged Natasha when she made a joke. You hadn't even directly spoken to him yet and he was already absolutely whipped for you.
After a while, everyone dispersed, and Tony led you to your room. Which coincidentally was right across from Buckys.
He awkwardly stood in his doorway as he watched someone bring two duffels and a box into your room. You didn't have much. He had a feeling you had tactical gear in those duffels and a few sets of fatigues. He had to admit he was a bit surprised considering your bubbly personality. He thought you'd be the type to have a bunch of cutesy clothes to wear when you were off duty. And some pretty things to decorate your room.
Though to be fair you'd basically come straight here from the military. You'd hinted at having enhanced abilities, but Bucky doubted you'd been given the same serum as him or Steve. He had to admit he was excited to see what you were capable of.
You'd dropped the box on your bed and noticed Bucky across the hall.
"Hey! You're Bucky right?"
A bit embarrassed to have been caught watching, he just silently nodded.
"You're also a super soldier, yeah?"
He nodded again and you offered a soft smile.
"Steve's more the talker huh?"
Bucky huffed out a chuckle.
"Definitely." He responded.
It was the first time you'd heard him speak and it sent shivers down your spine and a heat between your legs. He'd caught your eye the moment you entered the common room, and now his room was straight across from his. If you had to describe the situation in one word it'd have to be "fucked." It woukd be heaven and torture to have such a gorgeous man living mere feet away from you.
"Well I look forward to spending more time together. I don't mind silence." You offered a sweet smile. You couldn't help but notice the way his cheeks tinged red at that, which you found incredibly adorable.
This was going to be an interesting experience.
Next Part
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wonustars · 1 year ago
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𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘸𝘢𝘺
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I recommend listening to Still by Jeff Bernat while reading the first part!
Summary: It’s been a year since you and your ex-boyfriend, Wonwoo, had broken up. You have been having a hard time getting over him, no thanks to the fact you share mutual friends. Friends who liked to constantly update you on how he’s doing. After having no contact for the past 12 months, you two end up at the same party.
Tags: angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, smut (mdni) j.ww x reader, nonidol! au, nonidol!wonwoo, exbf!wonwoo, jealous!wonwoo, mentions of most svt members (S.Coups, Jeonghan, Hoshi, Minghao, Mingyu Seungkwan.), exes to lovers, y/n has way too much pride, pining over eachother during the whole party omf, they both assume too much, a little mingyu x reader if you squint, low tolerance hoshi as always, mingyu is bullied but thats normal atp.
Smut Tags/Warnings: smut mdni! dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, afab!reader, bathroom sex, p in v sex, semi-public sex, fingering, literally one spank (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, tiniest bit of degradation, praise, lots of petnames (baby, princess, love,). if i've missed anything lmk! :}
Word count: 4556 words.
Note: HELLO OOMFG, my first ever seventeen fic has now graced this website. literally no one asked for this… i just love wonwoo. I can't believe i even finished this with how hectic school is wtf. any ways this is my first Wonwoo fic and i'm very excited and NERVOUS to share it with you all...... anyways i hope u like it haha. lmk what you guys think of it PLEASE i want feedback, i crave feedback. love u all enjoy hfiasuheiuhafsi.
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SMUT UNDERNEATH THIS CUT. MDNI! 18+.
After a year of not seeing one another, the pang in your heart never subsided. The thought of even breathing the same air as him was already causing you to feel the uneasiness boiling in your stomach. You heard from everyone how well he’s doing without you, you didn’t want to have to see it with your own eyes too. 
Unassumingly, you walked into Soonyoung’s apartment expecting to be greeted by the host himself. Instead, you donned upon a familiar set of eyes. Soft brown eyes, the same ones that you looked into every morning for three years. 
You tried your best to act ok, but the familiar ache in your chest was creeping in once again. The same ache that hasn’t left for the past 12 months. The same ache that hasn’t left since you watched him walk out your front door. 
The two of you are still standing there. Awkwardness started to settle in. You clear your throat and attempt to give your best poker face. 
“Hi, uhm is Soonyoung in there?” You Inquire. Cursing yourself mentally due to the audible shake in your voice. 
“Hey Y/n long time no see, and yeah he’s already become good friends with his toilet. You know how he gets with alcohol.” He chuckled. 
Now you’re mentally cursing him. He looks so composed compared to you. He’s even joking around with you. You have half the mind to back out and just drive home. But you can't. You can't because it’ll make you look like he still has an effect on you. Even though you’re not over him you still have some pride left in you. 
“Oh haha that doesn’t sound too good. Anyways, it’s nice seeing you again but I’m gonna go and greet everyone now.” You declare, eyes not even meeting him. If they did you wouldn’t be able to stay calm any longer. 
His hair got longer, you thought to yourself. He looked so good even after all this time. The thick rimmed glasses he wore complimented his features well. Alongside the creme knit sweater, the sleeves sitting above his elbows. It gives you a good view of his strong forearms. The same ones that held you while you fell asleep every night. 
“It’s nice seeing you too Y/n.” His voice is almost a whisper. Eyes scanning your face for any type of reaction. 
To Wonwoo’s dismay you only nod your head half-heartedly and trudge past him. He can feel his heart skip a beat, with both joy and sadness. Being able to see you is so bittersweet, and you still look as good as you did when he last saw you a year ago. 
He watches you make your way through the room. Your eyes particularly light up as you spot Mingyu. Curious eyes peer over to your frame and see how Mingyu engulfs you into a tight hug. Wonwoo's fists ball up tightly and he shuts the door with more force than normal. 
If things were different, it would be him that has his arms around you. Not his best friend.
You laugh at Mingyu's joke, but you’re still conscious of the pair of eyes that are burning into your back. You didn’t have to turn around to know who was staring at you. A part of you is happy, why is Wonwoo keeping his eyes on you? The other part of you is anxious. Why is Wonwoo keeping his eyes on you? 
“We’ve really missed you around here y/n.” Mingyu's soft voice brings you back to reality. 
“I’ve missed you guys too, Gyu.” You professed. Your hand moves to give his bicep a reassuring pat. To the two of you it’s nothing but a friendly gesture. To Wonwoo, it appears to be more than that. 
His jealousy is brewing in the pit of his stomach. 
You, on the other hand, are very aware of the way Wonwoo is eyeing you and Mingyu. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume that Wonwoo is jealous of Mingyu. As much as you want that to be the actual reason, you suppress your inner thoughts. Instead, you let Mingyu continue to talk your ear off about why he thinks Lane's character deserved a better ending in Gilmore Girls. 
Hours passed and the party has dyed down considerably. The only
people left at Sooyoung's apartment are now sitting around chatting in the living room. Everyone but Soonyoung (who Jeonghan and Minghao eventually put to rest in his room) have been engaging in the group’s conversation. 
“Haha, Hey Mingyu! Remember that time you tried to do a flip in the pool just to impress Y/n?” Jeonghan decided to make up a game called Mingyu's embarrassing moments. Group bonding he likes to call it. You can't help but laugh at the way the boys like to tease Mingyu. 
Though you found it surprising that Mingyu's failed flip was because he was trying to gain your attention. 
“I’m sick of you guys bringing that up! My back hurt for a whole week..” Mingyu huffs, he looks at you with a pout. Allyou can do is giggle. 
“It’s ok Gyu, you can show me your flip the next time we go to the pool!” You try not to burst into laughter as you reassuringly pat his shoulder. In the middle of all of this you felt a pair of eyes on you the whole time. Without even turning to look you knew who it was.
Excusing yourself to go to the washroom, you let the group continue to share their favourite moments of Mingyu embarrassing himself.
While you stood there, eyes closed, a sigh left your lips. All your energy had been drained from the party. Especially because 90% of your brain power had been used on looking at Wonwoo without making it obvious. You couldn’t help but steal glances, especially because he looked so good sitting there laughing with the guys. 
The tap was still running when you heard the door open and shut firmly behind you. You look up at the mirror to see a pair of cat-like eyes staring back at you. The squeeze in your chest intensifies. Out of all the people who could be in this small space with you right now, it’s him. 
“Are you and Mingyu a thing?” He cuts to the chase. Wonwoo was never the type to beat around the bush. Whenever he was curious about something he would ask. He finds it exhausting to play coy. It doesn’t make sense to him. 
You cough due to the awkward atmosphere. “W-what? Of course not! Me and Mingyu are just friends. He’s your best friend Wonwoo. I would never do that to you.” 
“I’m sorry I just don’t like the way you two seem so close.” He deflates. His eyes are still piercing into your soul. 
“Why? He’s both our friend Won.” You retort. His nickname leaves your lips so easily. The blush spreads across your cheeks in a matter of seconds. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this close to him. Since you’ve last called him by his nickname. 
“It’s the way he’s always trying to get your attention. I think he likes you Y/n.” Wonwoo sighs, he hates that you're so oblivious to Mingyu’s advances. Everyone but you seems to see the double meaning to his actions. 
“Even if Mingyu does like me, I would kindly reject him.” You assure him. You’re not sure why though, you two aren’t even together anymore. Following that thought, your heart aches once again. 
We’re not together anymore, you repeat in your head. 
You turn around to face him. With your backside pressed up against the bathroom counter, your breath gets caught in your throat. 
“My love, why did we even break up?” Wonwoo questioned you with a sad expression. You frowned. You recall the last few weeks before you broke up with him. 
He was so respectful of your decision it almost seemed like he wanted it to happen too. 
“Because I could tell that the last thing you needed was a relationship. Work was hectic for you, I was barely around because of my last year at school. It just felt like we were always at two different places. I loved you but I don’t think it would’ve been long before we called it quits. I just decided-.” He cuts you off. 
“Yes. You decided without me. We could’ve made it work. But you decided to break it off when it could’ve been fixed easily. I didn’t put up a fight when it happened because you seemed so sure that you didn’t love me anymore.” The tears in your eyes were threatening to spill. His face is so close to yours. The proximity of both your bodies. It was so much of him after not having him at all for so long. 
“I’m sorry, I just thought about what’s best for you.” You countered. A pout settling on your face. His arms are placed on the counter, gripping the marble on each side of you, locking you in. 
“There you go again, making decisions for the both of us.” His voice barely above a whisper. 
Wonwoo's eyes are still trained on yours, and you can’t seem to look away. The sparkle isn’t there anymore. It hasn’t been there since the day you left him. 
“Baby tell me you don’t love me anymore. Tell me that so I can move on. Because everyday that I’m not waking up beside you is another day my heart breaks a little more. I can’t even breathe properly without you. So please, just tell me you don’t love me.” The crack in his voice causes a tear in your heart. He’s begging you, the desperation in his words are clear. 
You look down. Wonwoo's knuckles are turning white because of how hard he’s gripping the countertop. The both of you are breathing heavily, and you fear that he can hear how hard your heart is pounding. 
“I’m sorry Won, but I can’t do that.” You murmured. “As much as I want you to be happy, I can’t tell you that I don’t love you. I don’t think I can ever stop.” 
“If you love me then come back to me. Please Y/n whatever it was that caused us to break up, we can fix it.” Pleading you, he grabs your face with his large hands. The motion makes you look back up into his eyes. He’s crying. 
The tears in his eyes slip gracefully down his face. Even in this sad moment he still looked so beautiful. A blush prominent on his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His long lashes wet with tears. Sorrow somehow makes him look so pretty in the dull lighting of the bathroom. 
Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest and your tongue dry. What are you even meant to say? Is it worth it to come back to a relationship you thought you couldn’t salvage? As much as you love Wonwoo, you two had so much ahead of you. His career was clearly taking off before you broke up with him and you just didn’t want to hold him back. You needed love, you needed attention but he just became too busy, rightfully so. You would never blame him for prioritizing his work, even if it meant straining your relationship. 
On the other hand you were in the final stages of completing your thesis. The two of you were always missing each other. He was always coming home in the later hours of the night while you were still asleep, and by the time it was morning the bed was neatly made beside him. 
“Won, I love you, I do. But I can tell you’re better off without me. From what Cheol and the boys are saying, you’re happy. I even heard you're dating again.” you chuckle bitterly, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying. 
“No Y/n, I’m fucking miserable without you. I don’t care what the boys are saying. I only went on a date because Soonyoung said it would be good to try again, but I can’t do it. I can’t because it's not you. And I can’t stand the thought of you ending up with someone else. I want to be your last. I miss waking up to you every morning, and I miss the way the house smelt when you were still around. I even miss the way you would snore in your sleep. I need you in my life, but if you don’t feel the same way anymore then I won’t bother you anymore. You won’t have to worry about me.” Wonwoo’s voice cracks, the desperation clear in his voice. 
His hands are still caging you in, the proximity becoming overwhelming. Your faces are inches apart, and all you can smell is his peach scented cologne. His scent only ever reminded you of home. God why was he so good with his words, you thought. The tears in your eyes start to fall. Fuck. This is not how you thought this night was going to go. 
“I love you Wonwoo.” is all you can say in response. It comes out as a whisper as the gap between you two starts to fade. 
Your lips move against his with fluidity. He feels the same way he did a year ago, you thought. The sound of the running tap and the sounds of kissing fill the small bathroom. Wonwoo’s hands move from the countertop to your waist, gripping you tight. As if you were about to disappear into thin air if he let you go. 
All you could think about at that moment was that he felt so good on top of you. Your bodies pressed up against each other once again. You haven’t been with anyone since the two of you broke up, you just couldn’t do it. No one could get you as turned on as Wonwoo does. It doesn’t feel right unless it's him, it doesn’t feel right to have anyone inside you except him. 
Wonwoo still has his iron grip on you, but now his hands are creeping under your shirt to feel your bare waist. You don’t stop him, if anything you want him to keep going. Fuck everyone who can hear you outside. Right now, at this moment, it's just you and him. 
Both of your breathing becomes laboured as you deepen the kiss, opening your mouth to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth. His mouth finally leaves yours; looking at you again with those piercing eyes. Staring back with the same intensity you just smile and place a hand on his cheek. He breaks the contact only to dive into your neck, kissing and licking every square inch he has access to. You can only whimper as you feel him marking you up. Even though it's a bad idea for him to leave hickies, he can’t help it. Wonwoo wants to show you how badly he’s missed you. 
You two are close enough in distance that you can feel his hard on pressing against your thigh. He’s rubbing himself against you as he licks up your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. 
“Hmm feels good baby,” you whisper, as you move your head to give him more surface area. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hand gripping his bicep to keep you grounded throughout all the pleasure. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this, you can’t help but feel sensitive to every miniscule touch that you’re receiving. 
“I need you so bad Won,” you whimper to him. His hold on you tightens at your words. All of this feels like a dream that you don’t want to wake up from. Wonwoo’s lips feathering soft kisses against your skin as he holds you; it just feels too good to be true. 
“Shh I know baby, I’ll give you what you want, just let me savour you for a bit.” He whispers back in your ear, one hand slowly moving towards your chest. His hand was fully under your shirt by this point. You force him to reconnect his lips with yours again, kissing him harder. You pull away again just to take off your shirt, your bra following without a second to spare. Not wasting any time your pants come off next, leaving you fully naked against the sink. 
Before you can take off any of Wonwoo’s clothes he stops you, his eyes dark with want. Moving you to sit on top of the counter, he spreads your legs. You sit there with anticipation as he massages your thighs, admiring your glistening pussy. He hasn’t done much but he still looked so attractive under the fluorescent light. Your walls lining with slick the more you looked at him. Fingers creeping close to where you need him most, he plays with your wetness. You sigh, the relief washing over you as he rubs slow, lazy circles on your clit. 
“Need more, please baby.” you whine, grabbing his wrist to bring him closer to your entrance. He pulls back with a tsk. 
“No love, let me play with you for a bit.” He’s not asking, and you know how he gets when you two are like this. You’ve always been a brat with him, and he was never one to give in. Always playing the long game, edging you until you beg him to let you cum. Today was not the day to play games with you though. 
“No. Wanna feel you inside me now.” you demand, leading his hands towards your soaking cunt. 
He can only sigh, giving into you for the first time. 
“This is the only time I’m letting you get what you want. Next time you better be begging for me.” He looked serious, and you know not to play brat any more than you have now. 
Without warning he shoves two fingers inside of you. Letting out a moan, you throw your head back. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you spread your legs further. Wonwoo curls his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you, feeling how wet you are for him. He can’t help but grin to himself. He knows he’s the only one who can get you this needy, and he's enjoying every single second of it. 
Your moans get louder and he slaps his other hand over your mouth. 
“If you wanna be a good little whore for me, you better keep quiet. Can’t have the others hearing you now, isn’t that right baby?” he spits. You can only nod, your brows furrowing with pleasure. 
“You're so wet already, this is just for me isn't it?” he hums, picking up the speed as he finger fucks you. You moan against his hand, not being able to give a proper response due to all the pleasure. You forgot how good his fingers feel compared to your own. They fill you up so well, not even your vibrator can make you feel this good. 
He continues with his ministrations, the sounds of your wet folds squelching echoes inside the bathroom. Your mind wanders to whether or not the guys can hear you, but they quickly dissipate as his thumb finds your clit once again. Rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his fingers. The familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching creeps up on you. 
“G-gonna cum Won.” you breathe out. His hand leaves your mouth, replacing it with his lips. The speed of his fingers increases, the other hand fondling your tits to get you closer to the edge. You moan into the kiss as relief washes over you, your cunt dripping with cum. It covers his hands and your inner thighs. Before you could say anything, Wonwoo shoves his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. 
“Good job baby, you’re doing so well for me aren’t you?” He chuckles as you obediently lick up your cum from his fingers. The praise and your recent orgasm makes your head dizzy. 
Opening your mouth you remove his fingers. You pout and pull him closer to you, and he goes back to placing his hands at each of your sides on the counter, leaning in to give you a peck on your lips. 
“Want your cock, please baby.” you whine, grabbing the ends of his sweater to attempt to lift it off of him. He can only laugh at how needy you are for him. “Wanna feel you cum inside me please.” 
“Only because you asked so nicely.” 
He removes his clothes quickly, both your bodies buzzing with anticipation. His pants pooling at his ankles, and his member stands hard and leaking with pre cum. Your mouth can’t help but water. As much as you want to suck him off right now, you don’t. Mentally leaving a note to yourself to ask him about it next time. Next time, you thought. It still sounded funny considering you haven’t been with him like this in a long time. 
Parting your legs apart further, Wonwoo moves in between them, his hands guiding his dick towards your entrance. Teasingly he rubs himself against your cunt, collecting your juices for an easier entrance. You look down between the two of you and your pussy clenches at how big he is.
“Stop teasing please, I want you inside me now.” you beg, pushing your hips to meet his. He just chuckles, shaking his head before he forces his cock past your folds. 
Gasping at the sudden intrusion, he doesn’t give you time to adjust; grabbing your thighs to hook them between his arms, spreading you further. It gives him a new angle to fuck into you deeper, his thrusts fast and hard just how you’ve always liked it. The pleasure becomes more overwhelming with every move he makes. The feeling of his hard member rubbing against your gummy walls sends you into overdrive. He continues to hit that spot in you that you know no one else can reach. The vigour in every movement causes slapping sounds to fill the room alongside the wet sounds of his cock entering in and out of you. If anything it just turns you one even more. 
“Feels so good baby, keep going.” You moan as he places his mouth around your nipple sucking on it as he continues to fuck you. He moves your legs once again to place them around his hips, allowing his free hand to rub your clit once more. The feeling of it all is hitting you hard, especially with how sensitive you are from the previous orgasm. 
“So fucking tight for me princess.” Wonwoo grunts, his words causing you to clench around him even harder. He’s groaning above you, trying hard to not cum for as long as possible. You’re already drunk off his cock but he wants to savour every moment of this. The uncertainty of it all is keeping him from cumming too quickly. 
The moans coming from your mouth only get louder the more he plays with your clit, and before you know it you’re coming undone for the second time tonight. But Wonwoo perseveres, his thrusts never falter. Not until you feel his member twitch inside you. 
“Cum inside me Won, wanna be filled up please.” you’re blubbering at this point, overstimulated and overwhelmed. You just want to feel his cum spurt into your hole. He groans at how the filthy words spewing from your lips, causing him to release inside you. You whimper against his shoulder, feeling the hot white liquid spilling into your pussy. As you clench around him once more you bring his face to yours, giving a deep and meaningful kiss. 
“Come home with me. I’m not done with you.” He demands. His dick still inside of you, he refuses to pull out, finding comfort in your warmth. 
“I’ll do whatever you want Jeon Wonwoo, as long as I get to ride you later.” you laugh, removing yourself from his grip. He smiles, the pink tinge apparent on his cheeks. 
You hop off the counter to put on your clothes, and as you bend down to grab your things you feel a sharp slap hit your ass. Yelping, you turn to give him a dirty look. He can only smile mischievously, the sight of his cum leaking from your pussy lips onto your thighs is turning him on again. As he gets dressed his head fills with intrusive thoughts, ultimately, he decides to save it for later. 
The two of you end up leaving the bathroom just to see everyone still drinking and talking in a circle. All the attention turns towards the two of you. Out of all the people you can’t help but notice the way Mingyu isn’t his usual cheerful self, the difference earlier on in the party is a stark contrast from his current mood. Your thoughts are cut off by Seungkwan’s voice. 
“Finally! My god, we didn’t know when you two were gonna make up, its been to fucking long.” he exasperates, both you and Wonwoo giggle bashfully. 
“For real, the tension between the both of you was too thick. All you needed was a good fuck.” Jeonghan chimes in, giving you two a suggestive wink. 
You feel the heat rise creep up your neck to cheeks. In the heat of the moment the bathroom fuck was good, but you know the boys aren’t going to let you two live it down. They never do, Mingyu being a prime example. 
“Ok ok, I hope you all got your jokes in. Me and Y/n are going home.” Wonwoo announces, leading you to the doorway with his hand on the small of your back. 
“Good night guys!” You bid them farewell and you make your way out of Soonyoung’s apartment. They all say their goodnights to you two, along with some cheers at the news that you and Wonwoo are back to normal.
The two of you walk towards Wonwoo’s car, his hand entangled with yours; holding you tight to ensure you don’t leave him again. The fall breeze sends chills down your spine, the leaves dancing in circles along the pavement. Wonwoo pulls you in closer, trying to preserve your warmth. You can’t help but smile at the fact that he just knew, even when you didn’t say anything. 
As you reach the destination of his car, he opens the door for you. Letting you get comfortable before climbing in himself and turning it on to start. The radio immediately connects to his phone, the song humming quietly in the background. Wonwoo’s hand finds yours again, looking at you with warm eyes. He places a quick peck on your lips before pulling away. There’s only one destination for him in mind. 
“Home?” he asks. 
“Home.” you respond.
© wonustars
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a/n: there you have it kind reader! you've reached the end. i hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it :D leave a like, comment or even a reblog!!! i wanna hear your thoughts. mwah mwah, anna <3.
plz note: 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙞’𝙫𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 !
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babybatsunite · 6 days ago
Text
My girl - Spencer Reid x tattooed!fem reader
Genre: Fluff, romance
Word count: 1,5k
Summary: Spencer’s tough girlfriend, Y/n, was never the type to take shit from anyone. And it's not like a new recruit with attitude problems would be any different.
Warnings: Misogynistic views, homophobic language, English is not my first language.
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The Quantico bullpen was buzzing as usual – ringing phones, the hum of the coffee maker, and agents running around with files. The BAU had been assigned a fresh case earlier that morning, leaving Spencer buried in boring paperwork.
It was around lunchtime when Spencer’s focus was interrupted by the familiar click of boots and a voice that sent his heart racing every time he heard it.
“Hey, genius,” you called, holding up a brown paper bag. “Thought you might want something that doesn’t taste like printer ink for lunch.”
Spencer’s head shot up, his lips curving into a soft smile as he took you in—blue hair tied up messily, tattoos peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeves of your dark flannel, ripped black jeans, and those scuffed combat boots you refused to part with. You looked effortlessly cool, as always.
“Y/N,” he said, standing up to greet you. “You didn’t have to do that!” Spencer said, kissing your lips softly.
You smirked. “Please, you’d survive on coffee and air if I didn’t step in.”
The interaction caught the attention of several team members. JJ and Garcia exchanged knowing glances, while Morgan shot Spencer a teasing grin. “Ah, the queen herself. You spoil him too much, Y/N.”
“Somebody’s gotta,” you shot back playfully, setting the bag on Spencer’s desk. “The man doesn’t even own a proper umbrella.”
“I do!” Spencer said defensively.
“That's not a travel-sized shower curtain?” you teased, earning a round of laughter from the nearby agents.
Everything was lighthearted and fine, until the new recruit, Agent Carter, sauntered over. Carter had been with the team for about two weeks, and while he was competent in the field, people whispered around about him being a complete asshole.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone clipped, eyes raking over your appearance with clear disdain.
You raised an eyebrow. “Nope. Just here to see my boyfriend.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Boyfriend? Here? You sure you’re not lost? You don’t exactly scream ‘i have a boyfriend.’” His tone was biting, with a sneer. “More like… a dealer who stumbled in from a punk concert.”
You stared at him for a beat, processing his words. “Wow,” you said flatly. “You’re bold for someone who looks like he barely passed the academy fitness test.”
“Who’s this?” Carter asked, nodding toward you with a smirk that made your skin crawl.
“This is Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice friendly but firm. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Carter’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low whistle. “No way. Didn’t peg you for the type, Reid.” You frowned but stayed quiet, observing the situation.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked, his posture tensing slightly.
Carter shrugged, his tone casual but dripping with condescension. “I mean, no offense, but she kinda looks like… I don’t know, a lesbian junkie or something.”
The room went silent. JJ’s jaw dropped, Morgan stood up straighter, and Garcia’s eyes widened like saucers. Spencer’s face hardened—a rare sight, but one that immediately made everyone uncomfortable.
“That’s incredibly disrespectful,” Spencer said, his voice colder than anyone had ever heard it. “Y/N has a PhD in chemistry and is one of the smartest people I know.”
Carter laughed, clearly not reading the room. “Sure, she’s smart. But, come on, man. Look at her. She’s wearing more tattoos than clothes-”
“Excuse me?” you said, stepping forward before Spencer could react. Your tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, one that Spencer learned to identify quite early in your relationship. You were pissed.
The recruit scoffed, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. “I’m just saying, you don’t look the part. In fact—” He glanced at Spencer, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “—you kind of look like the man in the relationship. If that’s what we’re calling it.”
The bullpen went silent. A few heads turned, agents pausing mid-task to watch the scene unfold. Spencer’s cheeks flushed red, but before he could step in, you beat him to it.
You laughed—low, sharp, and dangerous. “Wow,” you said, shaking your head. “That’s the best you’ve got? I look like a man? Cute. Here’s the thing, son: there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian, and I don’t give a single damn what you or anyone else thinks I look like. I didn’t show up here for your approval, and I sure as hell don’t need it.”
You stepped even closer, your boots nearly touching his. The recruit visibly stiffened, his confidence faltering as you stared him down.
“Y/N,” Spencer called out, his voice a mix of warning and pleading.
You ignored him, stepping closer to the recruit with a calm tone that somehow made you more intimidating. “But let’s make one thing crystal clear,” you continued, your voice dropping to a near growl. “If you ever disrespect me or Spencer again, I’ll make sure you regret it. And not in a fun, HR-friendly way.”
The recruit opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked to Spencer for support, but Spencer just stood there, arms crossed, letting you handle it.
“Got it?” you asked, patting Carter’s shoulders. Your tone was sweet but with an edge sharp enough to cut glass.
The recruit nodded stiffly, clearly out of his depth.
“Good,” you said, stepping back. You looked at Spencer as if nothing had happened, flashing him a casual smile. “There you go, Penny. I hope you enjoy your lunch.”
Spencer blinked, torn between mortification and admiration. “Uh, thanks,” he said, taking the bag.
As you turned to leave, you shot the recruit one last look. “Oh, and FYI,” you added, smirking. “If I was the man in the relationship, you’d be begging me to fuck you. Think about that.”
The bullpen erupted in quiet murmurs as you walked out, leaving the recruit red-faced and stunned.
Spencer sank into his chair, running a hand through his hair. The team slowly gathered around him, grinning.
“Dude,” Morgan said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Your girl is savage.”
“Yeah,” JJ agreed, smirking. “How’d you land someone like her again?”
Spencer groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I have no idea,” he muttered.
---
Back at your shared apartment, whatever happened that day seemed like a distant memory. You were both curled up on the couch, freshly showered, with the muted hum of a playlist Spencer had made playing in the background. Spencer was lying with his head in your lap, legs stretched out along the cushions, while you twirled a strand of his long hair around your fingers.
A half-smoked cigarette rested in the ashtray on the coffee table, the faint smell of it lingering in the air. Spencer’s book was closed on his chest, his brown eyes tracing the tattoos on your arm gently.
“You know,” he said suddenly, his voice soft.
“Hm?” you hummed, looking down at him.
“I don’t understand why some people think you’re a lesbian.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the comment, then snorted. “Oh, yeah? That guy got in your head, huh?”
He shook his head quickly, his brow furrowing. “No, it’s just… I’ve been thinking about it. I mean, it doesn’t make sense. You’ve been with me for over five years. You’re—well, you’re you. You’re not exactly subtle about being with me. It’s not like you’re walking around holding a giant ‘I’m gay’ sign.”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Babe, people are just dumb. I dress dark, I’ve got tattoos, and I don’t really scream ‘girlfriend of a genius FBI agent.’” You paused, smirking as you leaned down slightly. “Plus, you can’t lie—there’s a part of you that gets a little kick out of people being shocked I’m with you.”
His ears turned pink, and he looked away sheepishly. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, smiling.
You chuckled, brushing your thumb against his cheek, bringing his face towards you. “Look, I don’t blame them for getting the wrong idea. You’re my girl, after all.”
That caught him off guard. Spencer blinked up at you, a startled laugh escaping his lips. “Wait—what?”
“You heard me,” you said, leaning back smugly. “You’re my girl. Pretty, soft, and way too nice for your own good.”
“Pretty?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief but his smile growing. “I’m pretty now?”
“Oh, yeah,” you said, nodding firmly. “You’ve got that whole delicate, intellectual vibe going. Pretty as hell.”
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he reached up and poked your side, making you squirm. “Well, if I’m pretty, what does that make you?”
You shrugged, grinning. “The badass who gets to call you hers.”
Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, pulling you down into a kiss.
“And yet, you’re still here,” you teased against his lips.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he replied with his voice low.
The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other, as the night stretched on. Pretty boy and his badass girlfriend, what a team, huh.
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