#long ask! mine apologies!

[indigopoptart]

How do you have time to do an entire chapter every week!?!?! I live in the void and I still don't have the ability to form that many related sentences into paragraphs into art?!?!?! Do you have a secret superpower you're hiding from us because you're going to use it to save the world from destruction?!?!!?

OHOHO! Hello there!

dude i get it so much. before stumbling upon Welcome Home i was in SERIOUS writers burnout but somehow seeing those silly little guys yoinked me out of that and now i am here!

this is gonna be a bit of a long-winded explanation, so i’ll provide it here under the cut!

when i had first started writing stamps, i had published three chapters back-to-back, writing one a day. which i know was because of my hyperfixation kicking into high gear and making my brain go go go! until i realized i was running low on Juice!

So that was when I had decided to start posting every sunday, that way i could take my time on producing things and build a buffer.

as of right now, i’m about a week ahead of what’s posted. that means that, i am currently working on chapter ten while chapter nine is being proofread and readied for publishing! having this sort of “buffer” allows me to feel less stressed about getting chapters done, which means i have the potential to write better!

ive always been a fast writer, even in my early days of starting out and even in my first and only other long fanfic (We Don’t Talk about That One!). but one thing i Majorly remember from that one is that i felt very stressed to get the next one out on time, to reach that word count minimum that i had set for myself. and im taking the time to make sure i dont do that with stamps. if a chapter must be 3,000 words, then it will be 3,000 words! if it must be 1,000, then it must be 1,000! Anything more or anything less will take away from that solid craftsmanship that me (and others) have been working on bringing to the table.

i know this answer may not Make Sense for your question, but i did want to explain my thought process behind it! the main things fueling my writing at the moment are my adhd and my asd. to be honest, without them, i never would have even started stamps! being neurodiverse is a Very wonderful Experience sometimes!

i write in the Notes app on my phone and ipad (evil, i know)! for some reason, doing so really helps me get the creative juices flowing. and it means i can work on it whenever! whether it be in the car on my phone, or in between classes on my ipad, or anywhere else, i write! and when i am Writers Blocked, i usually write on-stream with one of my buddies! body-doubling (even if not physically) really helps me focus.

but there we go! long winded explanation over! i hope you enjoyed this smidgen of information on my writing process!

btw, here is a link to STAMPS for those who are interested in reading!

[kyouka-supremacy]

Who in sskk would you say has the higher IQ?

IQ as in, conventionally smart? Then definitely Atsushi does. I'm sorry. I've said it many times before, but I don't think Akutagawa is a particularly perceptive person. Or witty. Or intelligent in general. It's due to external factors, he never got the chance to have anything that could resemble a proper education; but it's also a matter of his nature, he's just so impulsive, and narrow-minded, and stubborn, he really has the thickest skull ever. But seriously, especially in a world full of geniuses, Akutagawa simply doesn't shine for sharpness of mind, and is way too impulsive and instincts-driven to be a person that relies on reflection or rationality. Everything that Akutagawa does is the epitome of irrational, it's one of the greatest appeals of the character.

Atsushi is smart,,,, I've talked about this also, and I think it's less sustained by canon than for Akutagawa, but I like to think he's a very observant and perceptive person whose intelligence doesn't show because he's constantly surrounded by geniuses, but still he is smart. When it comes to observations skills, I find it easy for him to have them due to his childhood of ill-treatment and abuse: as a defense mechanism, he learnt to be especially observative of people's behaviour in order to tell what sets people off and be able to prevent any escalation, I think that's a widely shared abuse survivor experience. Something among these lines is shown in chapter 51:

I also think Atsushi is a very fast learner. He's observant, and that results in him constantly absorbing other people's knowledge. He's often asking for explanations for Dazai and Ranpo's reasonings, and although I know more often than not it solves an expositive role in the storytelling picture, there's still the fact that it makes Atsushi a person who's constantly trying to understand the reality surrounding him. Atsushi is also shown to be very cool-minded and calculating in fight: from him sliding under Akutagawa and attacking him from behind successfully eluding having to face him front-off in chapter 4, to him retracting his tiger limbs to escape Rashomon's bonds in chapter 12, to the strategy he elaborated with Tanizaki (and his ability to catch up on that) to defeat Lucy in chapter 16, to his attempt to outsmart Fitzgerald in chapter 34 (that, although failed, was still driven by rational thinking nonetheless), and the list could go on. The way in fight Atsushi is shown to ponder over and implement the advices people like Dazai or Mori offered him further makes me believe he's really good at absorbing information. And Atsushi is probably book smart, too! He's compelled by reading to the point he would even risk the orphanage director's punishment just to sneak into the library and read (not explicitly supported by canon, but I can take a guess). According to the second guidebook, he spends his leisure time borrowing books from the library and studying. Overall, he really seems to be rational in all the places Akutagawa is on the contrary driven by impulses¹.

It's like… A physics law when it comes to sskk, that Akutagawa will have the most despicable trait while Atsushi has the trait that is conventionally considered the best; or at least that's as far as my characterization of them goes. Atsushi is beautiful, Akutagawa is ugly². Atsushi is polite, Akutagawa is rude. Atsushi is pure, Akutagawa is stained. Atsushi is smart, Akutagawa isn't. Atsushi is lovable, Akutagawa is destined to cause repulsion in everyone he meets³. In the end, none of this matters: they're no different where it counts, that is, Atsushi isn't any more morally just than Akutagawa is. Atsushi in not any more good than Akutagawa is (I actually suspect the contrary is true). But as far as appearances go, it's still important to portray them as opposites, because Akutagawa being unlovable and Atsushi receiving all the love Akutagawa didn't get for being his contrary - even though deep down they're the same - is almost everything their relationship is about. It's also a big part of why they act like they do towards each other: it's source of Akutagawa's bottomless envy for Atsushi; it's source of how devoted and loyal he will grow to be for him - reaching the point of giving his life for him -, because he can't see Atsushi as anything but perfection. It's source of confidence and of that certain justified hatred towards Akutagawa Atsushi feels because to his eyes Akutagawa is about the worst person to have ever walked on earth. It's source to their wish to annihilate the other as the opposite they can't exist at the same time of. It's the reason Akutagawa had to die, because he's not the good one. Overall it's also expression of Akutagawa's thematic struggle to be good and unavoidable failure at that because of the constraints of a narrative that never wanted him to be good.

But I also think they can make it work. More precisely, I think sskk can make it work when both of them can overcome and defeat the narrative dichotomy they found themselves stuck into: by recognizing that deep common ground of “we're the same” and that where it matters, in morals, neither of them is better or worse than the other. The Beast universe exemplifies that for us readers, but they don't know Beast, so they'll have to realize it by their own. About that, I think Akutagawa already caught on, because he was faster to call out the hypocrisy of Atsushi's good guy façade, and from that it's a short distance to realizing that, as much as he hates to admit it, at his core Atsushi is not that different from himself. It's taking a little more for Atsushi to realize, because it's harder to get down from that higher moral pedestal he believes himself to be on, but with his whole reevaluating Akutagawa after he stopped killing and sacrificed himself for him (and then saved him again. And then showed him how formidable of a team they are when they find a common ground.), I think he's getting there.

Tl;dr: Atsushi is smart and Akutagawa is stupid and yes it fits their personalities, but way more importantly it's consistent with the themes they carry that translate in what their relationship is like.

¹ For further reading on how Atsushi can be witty, please refer to @/gloomierdays's tags on this post. ² For further reading on how Atsushi and Akutagawa's looks can be used to reflect their characters themes, please refer to this post. ³ For further reading on how Akutagawa being not smart (as far as conventional definitions of smart go) ties to his character themes, please refer to this post.

[ghostie-gengar]

do u guys fw ocs??

behold: my little guys who have been rotating in my head for the past few months

(i'll put a transcription under the cut in case yall can't read my horrible handwriting)

Ryba Kaisei / 海星リーバ

she/her, 20

alien

very energetic

she and her sister Stella are a pop duo called: ST☆RFISH

Eliott Hoshino / 星野エリエット

she/her, 21

half alien

highschool dropout

kinda spacey (haha)

dislikes pop music

is friends with 2 pop stars

Stella Kaisei / 海星ステラ

she/her, 20

alien

has a tumblr where she complains a lot

always quick with a sarcastic remark

[lu-sn]

for random braindump, chay and macau being classmates in canon and recognizing each other post season 1 at some family function

congratulations you've revived my macau & chay besties 4evr agenda. this is not quite what you asked for but it is what fell out of my brain 😅

-

chay is fresh off of baby's first kidnapping, and porsche sits him down in an interrogation room and slides a picture across the steel desk and goes, "okay, this kid. this kid goes to your school. this kid is also the little brother of the guy who kidnapped you. well, kind of. well-"

"hia," chay says, pinching his nose, "i get it. what do i do?"

porsche grabs him by the shoulders. "do not go near him. don't talk to him. don't even LOOK at him. DON'T-"

chay endures this lecture very patiently and then does actually follow porsche's instructions, because the kidnapping completely scared the shit out of him and now he lives with the mafia and his life is legitimately in danger. he's gonna listen to what porsche says, no questions asked.

and then macau, who has literally never spoken to chay before ever (he has no reason to, he's one year younger and he's not studying music) starts popping up everywhere.

"hey," macau says, leaning precariously over the water fountain to stare at chay, who sprays water in his own face as he jumps six feet in the air before immediately sprinting away.

or, chay turns around in the lunch line and macau is standing right behind him, wagging his eyebrows, and chay lets out a small "eep" and then whirls back around and pretends very hard that macau isn't there.

or! chay is walking to his bus stop and macau is standing there looking at his phone, and this is ridiculous. chay has never seen macau take this bus before! so chay throws his hands up in exasperation and books it for the next bus stop, he's not putting up with this bullshit, no sir.

(macau is absolutely doing it on purpose. he's known about chay for months, but is actually on explicit orders from vegas to not bother or spy on chay in any way. he definitely wanted to help, but vegas didn't want macau to be thinking about that kind of stuff at school.

macau is flouting these orders now because vegas has been banished and porsche had something to do with it and he's hoping at first that he can fish information about all of that out of chay. but now he's in it for the trolling 😂)

macau doesn't know about the kidnapping. he doesn't know how personally chay is taking this — until he spots chay under a tree and saunters over to bother him, except. chay looks fucking wrecked. and like he's trying to hide it.

something clicks for macau. he totally gets it. sometimes you have to have a mafia-related breakdown at school, and all you can do is find a quiet place to have it.

(macau doesn't know chay is sad because of kim, but he doesn't need to.)

so when chay spots him, and tenses, and looks ready to bolt — macau halts and holds his hands up in surrender. then he waves, kind of awkwardly. and he leaves.

this very sudden generosity does surprise chay. and it continues to surprise chay when macau continues to wave at him whenever they see each other, but doesn't try to approach him. chay is still suspicious of macau, but chay is also a nice kid, and macau really isn't doing anything objectionable. so chay starts waving back.

this truce goes on for a while. and sure, chay isn't following the letter of the law anymore, but it's not like he's giving away information. he's not putting anyone in danger. and it's kind of comforting to have this shared understanding with this kid he doesn't even know. they're in the same boat. chay might not be able to talk to him, but chay feels a little less alone.

there's a million ways they could start talking after this. maybe macau just decides to take the plunge and plops down in front of chay during lunch and starts rambling about valorant. maybe macau is searching his pockets for change for the vending machine, and chay watches him do this for like five minutes and decides he needs to put macau out of his misery.

or maybe one of them finds the other having a panic attack in the bathroom, and talks them through it. (they're both better at this than they should be.)

or. maybe it's after the coup, and now macau is the one looking horribly withdrawn and jittery, and chay knows macau's brother is in a coma, and chay isn't feeling particularly happy about his own brother or anyone in the goddamn main family right now. so he says fuck it, and goes over to bump shoulders nonchalantly with macau.

maybe it's all of those. doesn't matter. they become friends. they're both lonely, and they're just too similar. too young, too tied to the mafia, too scared for their brothers, too little control over their own lives.

and it's not like they ever actually talk about being in the mafia. both of them know better than to give secrets away. they mostly just talk about gaming and homework and roast each other's tastes in music, and occasionally they allude to not being able to sleep, and sometimes they stutter to a stop to avoid saying something they shouldn't — but they both know to let it go. no need to fill in the gaps with lies, to pretend like everything is normal and okay.

it's nice. they're chill.

later, when porsche tells him they're having "family dinner" tomorrow night, chay doesn't realize that includes the former minor family, and he DEFINITELY doesn't realize macau is going to be there. which means he isn't prepared for macau to spot him at dinner and grin and start walking towards him, BECAUSE MACAU DOESN'T KNOW CHAY IS STILL BANNED FROM TALKING TO HIM.

chay is frantically gesturing at macau from behind porsche, making shh-ing motions and throat-slitting motions and shaking his head threateningly. and macau stops, puzzled, narrows his eyes — sly grin flickering across his face for a split second — points directly and dramatically at chay and goes "what are YOU doing here???"

chay facepalms.

macau puts a hand over his mouth and gasps. "have you been in the mafia this whole time?" then, louder, "i can't believe NOBODY told me."

"oh god," chay mumbles into his hand.

porsche is watching this go down, totally bemused. (vegas is also watching this go down, except vegas actually knows what's going on and is mostly amused about it.)

"chay," porsche says tentatively, "this is macau, vegas's little brother." then he nods expectantly at chay — like chay is supposed to do something now? is chay un-banned??? when the hell did that happen?

chay sighs. "hi, macau," he says, deadpan.

macau shakes his hand vigorously. "you play valorant?" he asks, like macau doesn't roast chay over vc every night.

"i'm gonna kick your ass to the curb," chay mutters, low enough that only macau can hear him.

"maybe when you get good," macau says, unrepentanly smug.

[frobisher-smythe]

alright first i don't know HOW i haven't followed you yet. second because i refuse to be alone in this. fabian would be a PERFECT osirion for nina. he already goes out of his was to protect her, the form this instant bond the moment she arrives do you see. my vision. eddie is great but the thematic element of "are we actually in love with each other or is this just another string of fate pulling us together" would be SO GOOD

😭😭 I've been intermittingly inactive for awhile

I LOVE thinking about how senkhara automatically thought it was fabian. fabian has always been naturally protective over nina, in season one we see that right from the jump when the others are questioning why nina left for school early and he says "it's probably to get away from us, we've hardly been very welcoming", then again when he protests against her 'initiation', and all throughout the first mystery: covering for her with the teachers, going after her when she was kidnapped by rufus, his reaction when she's threatened by rufus with the flies in the classroom in particular. it was never something that just jumped out during the senet task. he was the natural assumption for her osirian, he's gravitated towards her from her first day, put himself into the mystery despite having no personal connection, and has always, always protected her.

I've written about the "are we actually in love or is it fate" in the context of eddie/nina before but it works for any chosen one/osirian hc, feeling a natural pull towards each other and questioning whether it's because of some ancient fated responsibility or because you genuinely care for the other, bringing out eros. it's such an interesting dynamic that I think brings a lot of confusion for those involved and lets you have this really beautiful slow-burn type of love.

[actuallyitsstar]

For Fanfiction Work-In-Progress Guessing Game 😁

The word is "purpose".

✨ send me a word & find it in my wip! ✨

It had gotten them through the mission, with its ups-and-downs and its life-or-death. Through sickbay, with all their wariness and worry, and had led them to the desert, with a fractured sensation of family and a feeling of purpose and longing in at last gluing it back together.

thank u so much for the ask lovely!!! and omg i'm so sorry to have taken so long to answer aaaaaaa. welcome to more of my top gun found family mavdad and brad brad reconciliation bullshit tho. what can i say. it has in fact become *my* purpose i think akdhdjfhfjf

[sqeeebus]

No this literally happened to me recently— except more embarassing

[nerdalmighty]

Happy birthday! I hope you have the best day and a fabulous year! 💖💖💖💖

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! 🫂🫂🫂

[burningcomputerpersona]

saw your description, I LOVEEE the ocean grew hands to hold me but don’t know any other songs by them, what else should i listen to?

OHOHOHOHOOH THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS ASK YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT PERSON FOR THIS

the ocean grew hands to hold me is an INCREDIBLE song and you have immaculate taste my friend

now when it comes to the wonder years this is a band where i always recommend ppl listen to the entire albums bc the songs actually lean on each other and support each other to create a cohesive record. but also i understand that this is not always easy so here are some songs to get you started depending on different things you might have liked about this song

now i've heard ppl describe The Ocean Grew Hands To Hold Me as a worship song for the ocean which is a perfect descriptor imo and if you're looking for a song with a similar sound/ vibe the first song that comes to mind for me is Cigarettes & Saints (and if you really like this song i recommend giving the album No Closer To Heaven a listen bc it is a masterpiece)

another staple of the band that also starts off relatively quiet and builds up to an incredible climax and includes a reference that shows up all throughout their future songs that i really recommend is The Devil In My Bloodstream

but if you're looking for a song from the same record as The Ocean Grew Hands To Hold Me that also starts off relatively chill and builds up at the end and has similar themes & sounds, i recommend We Look Like Lightning

and if you really enjoyed the themes about death and grief and connecting with people then I recommend the entire Sister Cities album starting with Raining In Kyoto

alternatively if you're getting tired of all the death and grief and want something a bit more positive that also starts off relatively chill and builds up to a climax, then I really recommend the extended cut of Summer Clothes (not only because i found out about it only a few days but also bc it sounds great and the ending has been stuck in my head for days now)

and finally if you're looking for an actual introduction to the band then I have to recommend You're The Reason I Want The World To End. it's the last song on their latest record and also the perfect representation of who they are as a band (and also the song that Dan has said he's proudest to have written)

And if that song made you cry i recommend giving the whole album a listen starting from Doors I Painted Shut bc if you thought you were crying before you're gonna be sobbing through it after giving the entire record a listen (and also please feel free to ask me more abt this record bc it is my absolute favorite and i could never run out of things to say about it)

and this doesn't even include stuff from their earlier albums which i apologize for but we're at 7 songs already which i figured was enough for one post. anyway i hope this wasn't too overwhelming and i wish you the best on your music journey!!

[irlwakko]

[ID: a series of Tumblr tags. In plain text, they read: “There is something beautiful in these warnings. What is it? Is it the reminder of our mortality intertwined with our world so often uncaring in its beauty and wonder? The sense of fragility inherent to these messages? I mean, probably, yeah, but I also think it’s the kinship of these. Someone took their time to go ‘Hey you-- yeah, you-- looking at this wondering. You aren’t the only one looking at this and going ‘What if?’ I had the same thoughts you did, and many people before you did too. I want you to know that. And I want you to know what those who came before you and wondered learned. I hope you stay safe, but if you have to know, if you can’t be left to wonder, here’s what they learned. Here’s what to prepare yourself to endure.’ Or maybe I’m just rambling. TW: death. Warning signs. /end ID]

No but I absolutely agree with these tags, which is why I also find safety signs with a handmade/”unofficial” quality to them to be uniquely beautiful. I love all signs, but the ones you can tell were made by visitors or locals just using whatever they had around to keep their fellow humans safe are some of my favorites.

[ID: Three images of signs in different places. The first one is carved into a sheet of wood and reads “Hanakāpī’ai Beach WARNING! Do not go near the water. Unseen currents have killed 83+ visitors.” Above the number 83+ is a series of tally marks.

The second sign is on a piece of notebook paper stapled to a wooden support in a cave or mine. It reads “May 24th, 2019– Shaft drops roughly 200 feet. Roughly 80 feet switches to a new ladder. A new ladder was built at the bottom in 1988. Next level has been filled in but you can go left and crawl (about 2.5 foot ceiling). Unknown crawling distance. YOU CAN’T HEAR YOUR BUDDY!!! Whole ladder is solid.”

The third sign is spray-painted onto the side of a building in red paint and reads “POWER ON. CUT A WIRE, YOU DIE. 440 VOLTS.” /end ID]

this is by far my favorite safety/warning sign btw. they really went off with this one

[maskedbyghost]

jealous!Simon is on my mind 24/7

even better if the two of you are secretly fucking bc he is scared of feelings, commitment, relationships, and blah blah blah…

and simon wasn’t used to feeling jealous. he had trained his emotions out of him long ago, or so he thought. but as he stood in the doorway, watching you stroll across the shared kitchen on the base, your back turned to him, the name "mactavish" boldly displayed on the long-sleeved shirt you wore, something twisted in his chest.

the sight of you wearing his shirt, so casually, stung in a way simon hadn’t expected. he cleared his throat, trying to sound indifferent, but the edge in his voice betrayed him. "that’s johnny’s shirt."

"i know." was the only thing you said, smirking since he couldn't see your face. you knew exactly what you were doing, but in that moment, you didn’t care.

"why is johnny's shirt on you?" simon asked, his voice low but tight with tension. he tried to keep his tone neutral, but the undercurrent of jealousy and frustration was hard to hide. seeing you in johnny’s shirt stirred something uncomfortable deep inside him, a mix of possessiveness and insecurity that he wasn't used to feeling. he hated how something so simple made his chest tighten, how the sight of you in someone else’s name made him feel like he was losing control of the one thing he was afraid to admit he cared about.

"oh, he gave it to me because i was cold," you said, pouting slightly as you turned around to face the only man you ever wanted "he is such a nice guy."

simon managed a slight nod, his mind blanking from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. everything felt too much, too fast. meanwhile, you casually turned your back to him again, giving him another clear view of soap's name stretched across your shoulders as you began making your tea. the tiny grumble that escaped simon’s lips didn’t go unnoticed—it sent a wave of satisfaction through you, a small victory that made your day. you loved torturing him. and, after all, he did deserved it.

frustrated, he walked over to the sink, grabbing a glass of water, hoping it would cool the fire raging inside. but as he turned, his grip slipped, and the water splashed across your front. simon froze, watching the water drip down your shirt, half-shocked and half-relieved for the excuse to make the shirt disappear.

simon froze, his eyes glued to the water dripping down your shirt. after a beat of silence, he muttered, "well, guess you’ll need to take that off now. what a shame."

shocked, you watched as he put the glass down and left the room, still feeling the cold water seeping through the fabric. did he seriously just accidentally splash you and then walk out like nothing happened? that bitch.

*

later, as you slept in your bed, wearing your shirt this time, you stirred slightly at the feeling of someone’s arms wrapping around you. you didn’t even need to open your eyes or turn around—you already knew who it was. that familiar warmth could only belong to simon.

"simon?" you muttered groggily, barely able to make out the shape of him in the dim light. "what are you doing here?"

"shh, just sleep, pretty girl," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. "i just wanted to apologize for how i acted earlier."

"i'm listening," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.

simon’s arms tightened around you as he spoke. “i’m sorry for earlier. i know i’ve been pushin' you away and acting like an idiot. seein' you in johnny’s shirt... it just brought out this jealousy i didn’t want to admit i had. i hate feelin' like i’m not enough, or that someone else might have a piece of you. the truth is, i want you to be only mine. i can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else. i just wanted you to know that, even if i messed everythin' up.”

“well, isn’t this a surprise? i didn’t realize it took me wearing johnny's shirt for you to admit your feelings.” you said with a hint of a smile, turning around to kiss him softly. simon sighed into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of relief and affection.

simon pulled back slightly, his eyes intense as he rested his forehead on yours “i mean it, you know. you’re mine—only mine. no one else gets to touch what’s mine.” his voice was firm, yet tender, which made his words more meaningful.

"did you have a similar conversation with soap?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

simon grinned, leaning in even closer. “yep, told him to keep his wardrobe to himself unless he wanted a 'property of simon' label slapped on everything he owns.” he sealed his words with a gentle, lingering kiss, his lips tenderly brushing against yours as if to mark his claim in the most intimate way.

*

soap: so, i guess it worked?

y/n: your shirt got wet, but i got what i wanted. thanks, bestie.  

soap: i think i got worse treatment from simon than the shirt did, but anything for my two lovebirds.

[satellite-evans]

in his eyes

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: it doesn't matter what people say on the internet, because Lando loves you.

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: giving birth, angst, fluff, insecurity, nasty people on the internet

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The room was still and peaceful. After hours of pain and screaming, it was finally quiet. You could hear the faint beeping of the heart monitor in the background, but it was as if everything else had faded away. In that sacred silence, your heart felt fuller than it ever had before.

Lando’s voice broke through the quiet again, but this time, it was a little more hesitant, as if he were trying to put words to the flood of emotions swirling in his chest. “I always dreamed of this moment... but seeing her here, in my arms... it’s so much more than I imagined.”

Your heart swelled at his words. You had always known how much he longed for this day—how much he dreamed of becoming a father. But to witness it, to see him holding their daughter with such reverence, was beyond anything you could have ever expected.

“She’s so tiny,” you whispered, leaning in a little closer to get a better look at the little girl in Lando’s arms. "It’s hard to believe she’s ours."

Lando nodded, his thumb gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand, his gaze never leaving her face. “I just want to protect her. I want to give her everything. She’s going to have the best life.”

You smiled, feeling tears well up in your eyes again. You had always known Lando was capable of deep love, but seeing him like this, seeing him so vulnerable, made you fall even deeper in love with him.

“I have no doubt, Lando,” you said softly. “She’s going to have everything she needs... and more.”

Lando turned his head toward you for the first time since he’d been holding their daughter, his eyes glistening with emotion. He smiled, a soft, loving smile that melted your heart. “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. I can't believe she's mine as much as I can't believe I'm yours. We’re in this together.”

You reached out to gently stroke the side of his face, your thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. His words meant everything to you. There was no one else you’d rather share this moment, this journey, with. "I feel the same. You're going to be the best dad, Lando."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ll try my best. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s happy.”

The quiet room filled with the sound of a small yawn from your daughter, followed by the soft rustling of blankets. Lando chuckled softly, clearly enchanted by the tiny noise. “She’s already got her own little personality, huh?”

You both laughed quietly, and the sound felt like music, the kind of sound that made everything else in the world feel right. “I think she’s definitely going to keep us on our toes.”

Lando nodded, but his eyes were still soft and full of awe. "I'm ready for that. As long as we’re together... we can handle anything."

Your heart fluttered as you looked at him, this man who had been your partner, your best friend, and now, the father of your child. There were no words to fully capture the depth of what you felt in that moment. All that mattered was that you were here, together, in this perfect little bubble of love with your daughter.

“She’s going to love you so much, Lando,” you whispered, your voice full of certainty.

He smiled at you, a rare vulnerability in his eyes as he gazed at their daughter again. “I already love her more than I ever thought possible.”

As the moments passed, the three of you simply existed in this space, letting the world outside the hospital room fade away. There was no rush, no need for anything other than this precious time you had together, letting the quiet joy of the moment fill every corner of your hearts.

Lando's voice was low and full of affection as he spoke again, almost as if to himself. “This... this is everything I’ve ever wanted. You, her... us.”

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "And we're just getting started."

The first few weeks after giving birth were a whirlwind of emotions, adjustments, and challenges. Your body was healing, and there were days when you felt overwhelmed by the exhaustion. Physical recovery was tough, and mentally, you wondered if you were doing enough. The sleepless nights, the constant feeding, the emotional rollercoaster—it was all a lot to process. But through it all, Lando was there.

You often found him hovering around you like a quiet guardian, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. The first night you came home from the hospital, Lando insisted on taking the baby for a few hours to give you some rest. You were still recovering from the birth, and the thought of trying to breastfeed, soothe the baby, and manage the pain seemed overwhelming. But Lando stepped in without hesitation.

"I’ve got her, Y/N. You rest," he said, his voice soothing and steady as he gently took their daughter into his arms. You had to fight the urge to stay up, but you trusted him. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you slept soundly for a few hours, knowing your baby was safe and loved.

When you woke up, the sight that greeted you made your heart swell. Lando was sitting on the couch, holding the baby against his bare chest. His face, usually so focused and intense, was softened in a way you had never seen before. He gazed at her with such love and tenderness, whispering sweet words to her as she napped peacefully in his arms.

" I know I said it like a hundred times already but, she’s perfect, Y/N. Absolutely perfect," Lando had said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the serenity of the moment.

He made sure you didn’t feel the weight of the housework either. Whenever the dishes piled up, Lando was the one to wash them, even when he had been working on the simulator for hours or when the demands of his racing career were overwhelming. "I’ve got it. You just relax. You’ve done enough," he’d tell you. He even took on the responsibility of cooking, though you could tell his meals weren’t quite as delicious as when you were in charge. But it didn’t matter—what mattered was the effort, the care, the thoughtfulness he put into everything.

Lando was constantly reassuring you when you doubted yourself. He saw the way your shoulders would slump after a long day of caring for the baby, how the sleepless nights began to take their toll, and he’d be there to remind you that you were doing an amazing job. When you expressed how hard it was to adjust to motherhood and how difficult it felt to bounce back physically, Lando was quick to reassure you.

“You’re incredible. You brought life into the world, Y/N. That’s something amazing. You are enough,” he said with conviction, never once faltering in his support.

There were nights when the baby would cry, and Lando would take the lead, waking up to comfort her before you had even opened your eyes. He’d hold her, rock her gently, and whisper soft lullabies to her, making sure she felt safe and loved while you caught a few more hours of sleep. His patience was endless.

Sometimes, when you’d express that you didn’t feel like yourself, that you didn’t look like yourself, Lando would gently take your face in his hands, his eyes filled with love. “You’re the same Y/N I fell in love with. You’ll always be her. Nothing about you has changed, except maybe... you’re even more beautiful now,” he’d say with a warm, playful smile, easing the weight of your worries with his words.

Lando’s support wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. He never let you feel alone in this new chapter of your life. When you cried from the frustration of sleepless nights or the pressure of balancing it all, Lando would simply pull you into his arms. “I’m here, Y/N. We’re in this together,” he’d say, as you let the tears fall.

Even when you doubted whether you could be the kind of mother you imagined yourself to be, Lando believed in you completely. "I’ve never seen anyone do what you do with as much strength and love as you have. We’re a team," he’d remind you over and over again.

And he was right. He never let you feel like you were doing it alone. When you struggled, he didn’t hesitate to pick up the slack. Whether it was handling late-night feedings or changing diapers, he did it all with a quiet grace that made you admire him more than ever.

In those early weeks, as you both navigated the unfamiliar waters of parenthood, it became clear to you just how deeply Lando cared—not just for you, but for your little family. He did everything with the thought of making your life a little easier, even when he was running on empty himself.

"You’ve given me the greatest gift, Y/N," he told you one evening, after putting the baby to sleep. “And I’m so thankful for both of you.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

Lando smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to,” he promised. "I’m always going to be here."

And in that moment, you knew—you were never alone.

One sunny afternoon, you felt like you had enough energy to step outside. The last few weeks had been a blur of late nights, feedings, and tender moments with Lando and your baby. You loved every second of it, but you also needed a break, a small taste of normalcy. You had always enjoyed little walks and small outings with Lando, and today, you wanted to do something nice for him. He’d been so incredible, taking on the lion’s share of the care and support, and you wanted to return the favor.

So, you decided to walk to your favorite bakery. The idea was simple: get a couple of your favorite pastries as a treat for both of you. It would give you some fresh air and a little exercise, and you couldn’t wait to surprise Lando with something sweet. You’d always shared a love for pastries, and there was something comforting about going there alone, just to clear your mind for a while.

As you strolled down the street, the air felt crisp and refreshing. Your body was still adjusting, but with each step, you felt a bit more like yourself. It was the first time in a while that you didn’t feel overwhelmed, and you even caught yourself smiling at the thought of Lando, who was back at home taking care of the baby.

When you arrived at the bakery, you paused for a moment to take in the familiar, cozy atmosphere. The warm, inviting smell of freshly baked goods hit you, and you felt comforted by the thought of how much Lando would appreciate this little gesture. As you stood in line, your fingers fiddled with your phone, glancing at the screen before it was your turn to order.

“Hi, I’ll have two of the almond croissants and one of the chocolate eclairs, please,” you said, giving the cashier a friendly smile.

But then, as you stood there waiting for your order, you heard the sound of giggles behind you. You barely registered it at first, but then it came again—a group of girls, no older than your mid-twenties, talking and laughing loudly.

“You know, I saw Y/N out in public the other day…” one of them said, her voice dripping with that judgmental tone. “She’s huge now. Like, I know she had a baby, but how can she just let herself go like that?”

The other girls snickered in agreement. “Lando deserves someone better than her,” one of them added. “I mean, he could have anyone, right? Why stay with someone who just let themselves go like that?”

The words felt like a sharp slap to the chest, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to blur. You didn’t know whether to cry, shout, or just run out of the bakery. They weren’t whispering or trying to hide it—they were speaking loudly, thinking you wouldn’t hear. But you did. Every word stung.

You wanted to turn around and say something, to defend yourself, but instead, you kept your eyes on the counter, trying to hold it together as the cashier bagged your pastries. You could feel the heat rise to your face, the tears pricking at the back of your eyes. It had been so long since you’d felt self-conscious, and yet, their words dug up insecurities you had worked so hard to bury.

You paid for the pastries with a forced smile, muttering a polite “Thank you,” before quickly exiting the bakery. You had to get home. You needed to get away from the cruel laughter that still echoed in your ears.

Once you were back home, the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood there for a moment, taking in the quiet of the house. You set the pastries down on the kitchen counter, the warm scent of fresh-baked goods filling the air, but it did little to lift the weight that had settled in your chest. You could still hear the words from the bakery echoing in your mind, the sting of the comments, and the cruel judgments of people who didn’t know you or what you’d been through.

With a sigh, you rubbed your eyes, exhausted both physically and emotionally. Your heart was heavy, and it felt like everything was crashing down around you. Lando had been so caring, so supportive, and you didn’t want to burden him with this—it wasn’t fair to him. He had done so much to make you feel loved and beautiful, and here you were, doubting it all because of a few words from strangers.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake it off. You didn’t want to ruin this moment—this quiet, peaceful time at home with your family. So instead of seeking out Lando, you slipped quietly into the living room, phone in hand, and tried to lose yourself in something else.

You knew scrolling through social media wasn’t healthy—especially right now—but it felt like a distraction, something to fill the empty space in your mind. But the moment you unlocked your phone, it all came crashing in. The familiar blue light illuminated the room, but instead of calming you, it brought a flood of negativity.

The comments began to pour in, one after another, and with each notification, your chest tightened. The words were sharp, cruel.

"She’s disgusting." "Lando should dump her and find someone who takes care of themselves."

The comments continued to pile on, each one worse than the last. "Fat," "ugly," "why does she think she’s still worthy of him?" They cut through you like daggers, tearing into every insecurity, every vulnerability you’d tried so hard to hide. The words hit you harder than you could have imagined, and it felt like the air was being sucked out of your lungs. Your heart ached as your eyes filled with tears.

Before you knew it, the tears were flowing, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. The hurtful words from the bakery combined with the hateful comments made everything feel too overwhelming. You wiped your face quickly, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps upstairs. Lando had gone up to check on the baby, and now, his soft footsteps echoed down the stairs as he walked back into the living room. When his eyes found you, his expression immediately shifted from calm to concern. His gaze locked onto your red, tear-streaked face, and he froze, clearly taken aback by the sight.

"Y/N…" he said softly, his voice full of worry as he rushed over to where you sat. "What’s wrong?"

You hesitated for a moment, trying to hide the phone in your lap, but he could see the pain in your eyes. He knelt down in front of you, gently taking the phone from your hand. You didn’t have the strength to say anything, so you simply let him read what was on the screen.

His face darkened immediately as he scanned the words. The anger was evident in the tightening of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice sharp and protective. His fingers clenched the phone as his eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with disbelief and fury.

“These people… they don’t know anything about you. About us,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The softness in his expression faltered as he took in the full weight of your hurt. He sat down beside you, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you gently into his chest.

“Y/N…” he whispered again, his voice soft but full of conviction. “Listen to me. You are amazing. You gave me our beautiful daughter, and your body—your beautiful, strong body—did something incredible. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Inside and out.”

The words melted your heart, but it was still hard to fight the weight of the hurt. You sniffled, resting your face against his chest, your voice breaking. “But the comments… they’re right. I don’t look like I used to. I don’t—”

Lando pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “Don’t you dare,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve never looked more beautiful to me. Not once, not ever. You’re the woman I love. These people? They can say whatever they want, but they don’t get to decide how I see you.”

His words washed over you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the tight knot in your chest began to loosen. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his eyes full of love as he whispered, “If all the women in the world gathered together and shouted it, they couldn’t ever suppress your whisper. You’re perfect, Y/N.”

A fresh wave of tears stung your eyes, but they weren’t from sadness this time—they were from the overwhelming love you felt in this moment. Lando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

“I’ll always see you for who you truly are,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness. “And if they don’t see it… that’s their problem. But as for me? I’m right here, loving you more every day.”

You laughed softly through your tears, feeling the tension in your chest dissolve. Lando’s playful tone lifted your spirits even more. "And let’s be honest," he added with a cheeky grin, "even if all of them did shout, I’d still be right here. Loving you. And no one can change that."

The gentle teasing helped lighten your heart, and for the first time in hours, you felt a small flicker of hope. Lando was right. His love for you wasn’t based on anything as fleeting as looks. It was about who you were, what you’d been through together, and the life you’d created. No one could take that away.

Lando pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips—gentle and reassuring, as if to seal the promise of his words. And for the first time since you left the bakery, you allowed yourself to believe it. You were enough. You were perfect, just as you were.

And you were loved, more than you could ever imagine.

[nereidprinc3ss]

pillow talk

in which spencer reid chooses a very odd time to reveal an anecdote from his past to fem!reader

18+ (fluff, extremely suggestive) warnings/tags: fingering but nothing graphic whatsoever, it's basically fade to black sex, discussions of spencer's gsw from season 5, medical talk (and inaccuracies), spencer is a sarcastic little shit a/n: found this super random little thing in my drafts and it was done and i think it's silly and cute so i'm posting it! 600 words, short n sweet!

“You got shot in the knee?”

It’s perhaps said too loudly for the setting—tucked into Spencer’s bed in the late hours of the night when up until this point the conversation had been nothing but murmured stories and quiet giggles. And before that, well—before that there hadn’t been much conversation at all. 

Still you can’t find it within yourself to apologize as you sit up, holding the top sheet to your chest and looking down at Spencer incredulously. His eyebrows raise like he’s surprised by your reaction. 

“Thigh, technically. And it was years ago. Come back.”

You huff but allow yourself to be pulled back down, head on his shoulder as his hand finds its place stroking your hip once more. 

“How have you never told me that?”

“You never noticed the multiple incision scars on my leg?”

“What? No! Can I look now?”

“You won’t be able to see them. It’s too dark.”

You angle your head toward him, and he does the same, tilting his down until your noses almost brush. 

“So turn the light on.”

“If I turn the light on I’ll get distracted.”

“Distracted by what?” You ask, realizing what he means and voice quickly fading even as you finish the sentence. He chuckles and kisses your head. 

“I’ll show it to you in the morning. Come here.”

“I am here,” you grumble. He hums, leaning down further to try and kiss you. 

“Closer.”

So you scoot up the mattress and roll onto your side, pressed right against him, to meet him halfway in a sweet kiss. 

“You’re kind of spoiled,” you laugh against his lips as he begins pushing the sheet from your body. 

“You have to be nice to me. I got shot, remember?”

“Right. And how long ago was this, approximately?”

“It was 19 days before my 28th birthday.”

So much for approximations. 

“Aw. You got shot for your 28th birthday?”

It’s his turn to laugh into the kiss as he carefully rolls over you but recovers quickly, assuming a deadpan delivery. 

“Yeah. And it was really bad.”

“Sexy,” you murmur as he kisses down your jaw. “Tell me more.”

“Shots to the leg can be life-threatening if the femoral artery is nicked. Thankfully the bullet missed mine. You’re welcome.”

Your heart skips with a split second of true anxiety, but you snort at his cavalier attitude. 

“Yeah? This is really working for me.”

He lowers his voice to the one he uses in more intimate contexts and you giggle as he explains his gunshot wound to you like it’s dirty talk. 

“The bullet went in through my rectus femoris…” now uninhibited by the sheet, he finds the spot on your thigh and pinches lightly, “and came out clean through my semitendinosis muscle.”

“Clean? No bone fragments?”

“Nope. The doctors said I was extremely lucky it didn’t splinter my femur but it completely destroyed my muscles. I had to do physical therapy for a year and a half and I had a cane for months.”

“That’s kind of hot,” you breathe, losing commitment to the bit as his kisses get lower and his hand creeps higher. 

“Wait until you hear about the mid-surgery aortic clamping and ligature complications. You’ll love this—I was awake the whole time.”

A soft moan slips from between your parted lips and your brows pinch. 

“Spencer—”

“What?” He murmurs. “Me getting shot in the leg isn’t sexy anymore?”

You manage something between a breathy laugh and a mewl as your back arches. 

“I’m gonna kill you.”

He hums against your throat. 

“Good luck. You’d be far from the first to try.”

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Like You Mean It | H.S

summary: you're tired of only ever meeting trash men, but your best friend and roommate harry shows you that there are still good guys out there, and what it really means to be a giver.

word count: 5.3k

reading time: 22 min

content warning ⚠️: housemate/bff!harry au, nonfamous!harry, friends to lovers, shitty men (not harry), smut, fluff, fingering, penetration (p in v), very light D/s dynamics (if you squint), softdom!harry, dirty talk, nicknames (baby, babe), very light degradation/humiliation kink (if you squint)

a/n:  i saw a text post that said “girl don’t text that man. make yourself cum and forget about him.”(solid advice lol)  and then this happened. also not to be an astrology girlie but he’s an aquarius with libra placements….this man is the perfect fwb.

“Harry, can I get a man's perspective on something?” you ask, turning to Harry next to you on the couch. You had begged Harry out of his room for a movie night as a ruse, but your nose had been buried deep in your phone the whole night. Re-reading and overanalyzing old text messages between you and the object of your anxiety.

You don’t often go to Harry for help with men, but his advice on other areas of your life is always sound, and you respect his opinion.

“If you’re asking me for help, he’s not worth your time.” He sighs, not looking away from the movie, hugging a pillow to his chest. 

“I’m serious, I need your help.” you whine, tugging on his sleeve. He turns and looks at your dramatic pout, “Please.” 

“Alright, I’ll bite.” He huffs. “What is it?” 

“As a man, do you prefer texting or like a call? Or maybe FaceTime?”  

Harry barks out a laugh at the ridiculous question, before looking over at you, and realizing your dead serious. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, tossing his head back against the couch. “I mean I’m more of a talker, and I like seeing who I’m talking to, so I prefer FaceTime. But I guess it depends on the girl and how long I’ve been talking to them. What our situation is, and stuff.  Which one of your boy toys are we talking about?” he asks. 

“Cameron.” you grimace.

Cameron is admittedly your least favorite of the boys on your roster, but your most tenured member. And the one Harry hates most. In the beginning you thought it could be something real. He was sweet and did a decent job at wooing you. That is until - in Harry’s eyes - he coerced you into a friends with benefits arrangement. Harry could tell that you liked him, and to see him treat you as terribly as he did, got Harry’s blood boiling. You deserved better, that much you both could understand. What Harry couldn't understand however was why you would even consider speaking to him again after the last time you were in contact.  

Instead of saying what he truly thought, or giving you a hard time, he just pinched the space between his brow with an exasperated sigh. 

“I know, I know,” you grumble.

“How long has it been since you’ve heard from him?” 

“A while. But he reached out recently and - ” 

“I thought you were done with him.” he deadpans, eyes glued to yours. 

“I was, but we got coffee last week and he apologized.” 

“Coffee?” Harry groans in disgust at the low effort. He pauses the movie, and turns to you, “Don’t text him. Don’t call him. Go back in there,” he says pointing down the hallway towards your room. “Make yourself come, and forget about him. For your sake and mine.” 

“Harry!” you laugh, hitting him with a throw pillow.  

“You think I’m joking, but I’m serious.” he concedes with a chuckle, “You don’t even like him.” 

“I like him enough.” 

“He’s a terrible fuck.” 

“He…gets the job done.” you defend voice cracking. 

“Everytime he leaves, there's suddenly a consistent buzz coming from your bedroom.” He scoffs. You go to defend yourself with heat rising to your face. You stammer a bit but not quite getting words out before he continues, “I’m a grown man, I know what a vibrator sounds like.” He smirks, and you giggle covering your face. 

“Jesus.” you laugh, “Look, I’ve tried your way already…and it’s not doing the trick.” you pout, “So tell me, how pathetic would I be  if I were to reach out to him.”

“I don’t think you’d be pathetic, love.” he soothes 

“Then why are you so against me texting him?”  

Because you deserve better! Why can’t you see that? He thinks, These guys don’t deserve you. If I were them I’d - 

“Harry?” you ask, snapping him out of his thoughts. It’s in the glow of the television, and the small light on the side table that Harry is able to admire your adorable pout and curious eyes. He’s always had a little crush on you throughout the entirety of your friendship. One he knew you could feel and was reciprocated. There were a few drunken confessions of your attraction for one another that were joked about the following morning. Then there was the holiday kiss . One New Year for ‘good luck’. But there was also a promise. A pinky promise, to never risk the friendship you had. To keep things platonic.  It was a promise that was becoming more and more difficult for both of you to keep. 

When you two agreed to move in under the same roof for economic reasons, you knew it would be an adjustment, with both of you having been living on your own for years. But you were excited. Living alone could get lonely and overwhelming. So having your best friend of years, under the same roof and splitting responsibilities felt like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders. 

But being in such close proximity meant that it was becoming harder to keep your promise. Especially when things just felt so domestic with the two of you. Cooking dinner together, movie nights, cuddling together on the couch. It was hard for both of you not to let your minds wander to a reality where you were more than just friends. 

But you were friends, and as long as that boundary was there, there was nothing stopping either of you from being young, wild and free. So there were parties, and one night stands, and situationships. All in an attempt to distract you both from the truth. Because no matter how pretty the girls were that Harry brought home, no matter how sweet and kind they were. The only face he saw when they were splayed out in his bed…was your. 

And after a very awkward Sunday morning breakfast with one of your one night stands meeting Harry, you stopped bringing guys home all together. Opting for spending weekends away. A change Harry didn’t like, and lectured you over. “It’s not safe. You don’t know these guys. At least if you bring them here, I’m here if you need me.” he’d argued. All that did was keep you from seeing anyone for a while.  Which is how you ended up even considering talking to Camreon again. 

“Look” Harry finally says, turning his body towards you, “if you’re that sexually frustrated I’ll… help you out.” 

You tilt your head, letting out a nervous giggle, waiting for his real response. But it never comes, he just…smirks at you. 

“Oh,” you whisper, heart beating against your ribs. “You’re serious.” Harry nods, biting his lip. The offer was…promising, and the way Harry looked at you was intriguing. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you butterflies.  That the last month or so things haven’t  felt different between you two, something less than romantic, but certainly more than platonic. It was messing with your head for sure. But you were friends. Regardless of how fit you thought he was, you didn’t have the right to blow up your over decade long friendship just because you were horny. You clear your throat blinking up at him, shaking your head,“Thanks for the offer, Har but -” 

“Yeah no…you’re right. It’s - dumb idea.” He stammers, “I do think you just need to let off some steam, and then you’ll forget about him.” 

“Yeah. I guess.” 

He sees you deflate a bit at his words, and he realizes you didn’t expect  him to give up so easily. So he tries again a little more directly “And not to be that guy but I’ve been told I’m pretty talented, and if making you come keeps you from making a repeated mistake then I’ll take one for the team.” 

“Gee, thanks.” you scoff. 

“I just mean. You’re my friend, and I’m trying to be a helping hand.” he says sweetly before the smirk returns, “And tongue.” He laughs, and you roll your eyes. “And on a serious note, you’re too special of a woman to have to deal with mediocre sex from a guy that clearly - and I’m sorry to say - couldn’t give two shits about your Love. If you need to…get your rocks off, why not with someone you trust? With someone that actually cares about you?” Harry says sweetly. 

“Really?” you ask, and he nods, “And if we cross this line, it won't ruin our friendship.” 

“Cross my heart.” He says drawing an ‘x’ over his chest. 

“What about Taylor?” you ask, thinking of the pretty blonde that you’ve caught making breakfast in your kitchen a few times. You're trying to give him an out. But he doesn’t take it. 

“Out of the picture.” he smiles, “Has been for a while.” He admits, and before you get a chance to offer your condolences, he asks “So what do you say?”  

“Okay.” 

“Alright.” he smirks, “Come here.” He says softly, reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You scoot closer to him on the couch, your knees touching his thigh.  Your breath hitches in your throat as his other hand rests on your cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb.

He leans in slowly, his breath fanning across your face, his lips inches away from yours. His emerald eyes dart from yours down to your lips, back to your eyes. 

“You’re sure?” he asks. You nod your head slowly, eyes glued to his lips as he speaks. You watch as they curve up into a seductive smirk, “Words, baby. Want to hear you say it.” He coaches. 

He wants to hear you say it because the truth is, he can’t believe this is finally happening. He gets why you both agreed to not cross this boundary for so long. For the sake of your amazing friendship. But being this close to you now, seeing the look in your eye, the want and anticipation. Feeling the way he lit up touching you. It all seemed so silly. Why deny yourselves the pleasure of giving in to such chemistry, when life was so short? 

“I’m sure.” you whisper, “Are you?” 

“Oh, I’m positive.” he purrs, before leaning forward finally bringing his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on yours. Immediately, the kiss feels different than anything you’ve shared in the past. What starts off as a soft sweet pecks, familiarizes yourselves with one another, quickly evolves into a hurried frenzy. Tongues swirling, teeth clicking, and with Harry’s hand having come down to rest on your neck, thumb caressing your jugular possessively your head was spinning. You gasp  into the kiss, trying to catch your breath but all you could do was breathe in more of Harry. It’s when he nipped at your bottom lip licking at the skin after, that you have a moment of clarity. Pulling away slowly you, run your hand through the hairs at the nape of his neck making him look up at you. 

“You okay?” he asks, worry etched into his features. 

“If we’re going to do this,” you begin, “ I have one condition.” 

“Okay.” he prompts 

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” you whisper, voice shakily. 

“Planned on it, Love.” He smiles, bringing you back into the kiss, lifting you up onto his lap to straddle him. You drape your arms around his shoulders and lean forward bringing your lips back down to his. Any nerves you’d had earlier slip away with each swipe of his tongue into your mouth, and grind off your hips down onto his hardening cock. He moans into your mouth as you grind your hips into his, and you couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss. 

He sounds so pretty, you thought. 

He lets out another groan, as his hands roam up your thighs to your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you as close to him as he could. He pulls his lips away from yours in favor of kissing down your neck. His lips roam up and down trying to find your favorite spot, and when he does, you let out a lewd moan, pulling at his hair. He groans into your neck and continues sucking and nibbling. He licks a stirp up your neck, dragging your earlobe into his ear sucking at it. Before he pulls away looking at you with a proud grin on his face, watching you. 

“Why’d you stop?” you pout, leaning your forehead against his. 

“I’m not fucking you on the couch.” He chuckles and you giggle. “Your bedroom or mine?” he asks as he untucks your lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Wherever you’d feel most comfortable.” 

You didn’t have to think for more than a moment before answering. “Is it okay if we go to yours?” you ask nervously. If you were going to get the Harry Styles special, you wanted the whole experience. 

“Of course.” he smiles, giving you a quick peck, “Hold onto me.” he instructs and you hook your arms and legs around him as he stands up and makes his way down the short hallway to his bedroom. He leans in and kisses your cheek 

It is a little strange, how natural it all feels. How your lips seemed to slot perfectly with his, how he grabs your ass so dominantly in his hands, how you instinctually nuzzle into his neck, sucking just below his ear like he did for you. It’s as if  this whole thing, your dynamic, was sitting there all along, just waiting to come to the surface. 

He kicks his bedroom door open, kicking it back closed once inside. Breathy swears falling from his lips as you suck on a spot just below his ear. He sets you down on your feet as you pull away from his neck, bringing your lips back to his. Your hands move from around his shoulders to the elastic of his sweats. You pull at the strings keeping the material around his hips. But Harry stops you, pulling away from the kiss, holding your wrists in his hands.

“Hey, hey.” he coos, tilting your head up to look at him. “This is about you. Remember?” 

“Right.” you sigh, “Sorry.” It was a force of habit. Focusing on pleasing your partner, without much thought of your own pleasure. 

“It’s okay.” he smiles softly, “Don’t worry about me. Just let me take care of you.” He lifts your hands to his lips kissing each of the back of your hands,  “Okay?” you nod and he places a quick peck to your lips,  “Get up on the bed, for me.” There was something in his voice, a tone you’ve never heard before nor could you pin down, but it already had your stomach doing somersaults. 

You crawl your way up the bed, laying down amongst the mountain of pillows and it suddenly hits you what you’ve agreed to. Did you have some nerves about the possibility of ruining your longtime friendship? Of course. But the primary feeling was anticipation. You’ve heard Harry take many women to heaven in this very room, in this very bed through the thin walls of your apartment, dozens of times.  And now as you lay in his sheets… It's your turn.

He watches from the foot of the bed as you settle into his bed, admiring the sight of you there. You're quick to remove your shirt, but you keep your bottoms and bra on. You watch as he strips himself of his band t-shirt, and sweats admiring his tattooed littered chest and arms. Your eyes follow the trail of hair from his navel to the growing tent in his boxer briefs. He notices you admiring, watching as his muscles contract as he moves up the bed to you, a smirk plastered to his lip. 

“Eyes up here.” he jokes, and you snort out a chuckle, as he hovers above you with elbows on either side of your head. You bring your arms, sound his shoulders, pulling him down on you, enjoying the weight of him on top of you. 

“Shut up.” you smile, kissing him. You try to lead the kiss, but eventually give in to Harry, allowing him to choose the pace, too distracted and consumed by the feelings of his hands roaming your body. As he teases your mouth open with his tongue, you nibble at his bottom lip wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. You both moan as the tip of his clothed cock catches onto your clothed pussy. Your pussy throbs at the sensation and you roll your hips up into his, begging for some friction. But Harry holds your hip in the softness of his mattress.  He pulls away, caressing your cheek, running a thumb along your kiss bitten lips. 

“Let me take my time. Want you to enjoy this. I’m going to give you what you need. I promise.” 

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, “Okay.” you sigh

“Just relax.” he leans down, kissing your lips, “Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah - of course.” 

“Good.” Harry smiles, his dimpled smile, before continuing your kiss, hungrily kissing your lips, down to your neck. Kissing and sucking trying to find your most sensitive spot. When he does,  he nibbles and sucks, groaning into you as he feels you relax in his arms, with each swipe of his tongue on your neck. His hand reaches behind you, fiddling with the hooks of your bra. “Can I take this off?” he rasps. 

“Mhmm, yeah.” you rush out, helping him shimmy your arms out of the annoying barrier.  Before you get the chance to pull him back down to you chest to chest, Harry pauses, looking from your chest to your eyes.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous” he whispers, a hand cupping one of your breasts, pinching the pebbled skin of your nipple. He dips his head down, drawing the other nipple into his mouth sucking on the nub, before releasing it with a pop. You couldn’t help the lewd moan that escaped your lips. It’s needy and breathy and if it were anyone else above you,  you’d maybe be embarrassed with just how desperate you sound. But the way Harry is worshiping you, and moaning into your chest, you knew he was enjoying this just as much.

He works his way up from your breasts back to your neck, sucking and kissing anywhere his lips could reach. You wrap your hands around his shoulders pulling him in, for a deep kiss, until you feel his fingers tangle into the loose strings of your flimsy lounge shorts. 

“What about these?” he asks against your lips. “Can I take ‘em off?” 

“Please.” you gasp into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss the best you could, you lift your hips, as you help him get the shorts down your legs. 

With nothing but the thin material of your underwear between you.  You could really get a feel of Harry now as he grinded his hips into yours. He was thick, and just as hard as you were wet. After a few nudges of his cock against your pussy, Harry snakes a hand between the two of you, rubbing you through the thin cotton of your panties in small circles. 

“Mmhm.” you moan, rolling your hips into his hand. 

“This okay?” he huffs, leaning his forehead on yours. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling him back down to your face for a kiss. “More.” 

Harry smirked at you teasingly, but obliged. Sliding your panties to the side, his thick warm fingers making contact with your clit. 

“Oh, fuck.” you huff. 

Harry usually likes to tease. He tells the girls in his bed to be patient, to be good girls and wait for the inevitable earth shattering pleasure he’s sure to spring on them. But you're not just some girl in his bed. You’re…you. And he’s never not given you whatever it is you wanted. Because as far as Harry is concerned, you deserve the world. And the truth is, even if you didn’t realize it, you have him wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger. 

“That feel okay?” Harry asks, rubbing you in tight circles. He dips his fingers further down your folds, collecting  the wetness at your entrance to wet your clit. He rubs at your pussy,  up and down, until you start bucking against his hand. 

“Mmhm” you nod, “so good.” you whimper. 

It’s beginning to become harder to focus. All you feel is Harry. His fingers, between your legs. His tongue massages yours. His breath fanning across your face, when he rests his forehead on yours. His hardening cock pressing into your thigh.  His weight on top of you. He was completely consuming your senses. 

His fingers dip down, teasing at your entrance drawing out a deep groan from you as your grip on his shoulders tighten. 

“What’s got you so wet? Huh?” he smirks into the kiss, as he teases your entrance. Your cheeks warm to his teasing tone.

“You.” you whine, “Feels so good, Harry.” 

“Yeah?” he smirks, “And this?” He coos, as he slowly, finally, slides a long finger inside. “This feel good, too?” 

“Oh, god.” you whimper, arching your back into the mattress, gripping at his shoulders.

Harry kisses your check, pulling back admiring how sweet you looked as his finger worked you open, pumping in and out of you. 

“Look at me.” he coos, curling his finger inside to that spongy spot inside of you. “Let me see you baby. Look at me.” He repeats, sweetly kissing your cheek. Slowly, and with all the focus you can muster, you peel your eyes open to look at Harry. “Good girl,” Harry praises, “you’re doing so good, Love.” Your breath hitches at his words as you feel your pussy tighten around his fingers.  “You gonna come on my hand? Already?” He smirks. 

His light teasing, mixed with the pet names, only has you barling closer to the edge. You're so, very close and the way you're looking up at Harry all blissed out has him ready to bust in his boxers. 

“Har-” 

He can sense the frustration. See how close you were, but not quite. He needed to see you come for him. 

“What is it baby?” he coos, kissing your cheek. 

“More. Harry,” you whine, “Please, please plea-” you whine, through a pout.

“Shhh….Okay. You can have,” Harry slowly inserts a second finger, while his thumb circled your clit, “anything you want.” 

“Fuc-” Your moan gets cut off with a kiss, as Harry continues to work his fingers in and out of you.

“There you go. Better?” 

“Ye- yes. Oh my god.” you whine. 

Harry continues working his fingers in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit as you could feel your orgasm barrelling closer. 

“Come on,” Harry encourages, “come on my hand. Come for me.” he pants, through a kiss, fingers curling, maintaining their pace inside of you. 

“Shit!” you moan out, coming apart on his hand. 

“There you go. Good girl.” he praises, kissing you anywhere his lips can reach. You whimper, a shiver shooting through your body as your orgasm shook through you.  “Shhh, I got you. I got you.” he coos, slowing his fingers to a stop.   He withdraws his fingers from your center, eyes remaining on yours as he sucked his fingers clean, moaning around the digits. 

“You taste good.” he smirks, before leaning down, burying himself in your neck, sucking on the spot just below your ear. He pulls away, looking you in the eye admiring your fucked out state. He plants a kiss on each of your cheeks, and then kisses you deeply nipping at your lip. 

“You did so good.” Harry huffs into your mouth. You rake your fingers through his hair, still reeling from your orgasm, trying to use Harry to bring yourself back down to earth. “You’re pretty when you come.” he smiles down at you, kissing your lips, “Do you need a minute?” 

“No.” you mumble kissing his lips, “Just fuck me please.” Harry nods into the kiss, reaching into his nightstand for a condom. He’s quick to get rid of his bottoms and slip on the condom. 

“Harry.” you plead, rolling your hips up into his, as he slid his cock up and down your slit. He taps the head of his cock on your clit twice.

“Shhh, relax. I got you.” He coos stroking your cheek with one hand as he runs his cock more deliberately up and down your slit with the other. Harry kisses the corners of your mouth, and then places a kiss to your lips. He looks at you, eyes aflame with lust. He leans his forehead against yours, his breath fanning across your face, as he slowly pushes inside. You gasp, grab his shoulders, dig your nails into his skin. Harry hisses, tucking his face into your neck as he slowly worked you open with his cock, little by little thrusting in and out until he was fully settled inside. 

“Fuck, babe.” he sighs. He stays still for a moment, deep inside of you relishing in the feeling of your tight  walls wrapped around him. 

“Oh my god.” you gasp as swears fall from Harry’s lips above you. You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling lightly at his curls, drawing out more groans from him. “Move.” you whine, rutting your hips up into his. “Please, Harry.” 

He slowly begins to grind his hips down into yours, pulling back only slightly before driving back in, allowing you to feel every inch of him. “Fuck, you feel so good baby.” He praises. He’s quick to find a decent pace, his arms bracketing your head, forehead leaned against yours as he pounded into you with deep strokes. 

“Har- oh my god.” you moan, your pants of pleasure, fanning across Harry’s face, eyes screwed shut. 

“Look at me.” he rasps, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Please. Need to see you.” He moans. And he does. He needs it. You can hear it in his voice, and feel it in the way he caresses your hip. He must be closer to you. He needed to see you, all of you. 

So you grant his wish, peeling your eyes open and looking at him. And your pussy clenches at the sight of him. You don’t remember why you’d close your eyes in the first place. He was beautiful, like this. All kiss bitten lips, and flushed cheeks, curls glued to his brow and lust filled eyes. You threaded your fingers in his curls, brushing his curls away from his eyes. 

“You feel so good.” you gasp. 

Harry smirks, twirling his hips, “So do you.” You pull at his curls, a loud moan rips from your throat,  as a particularly hard thrusts hits your g-spot. Harry’s eyes flash with a new kind of focus, and lust as he hits it again. 

“‘S that it? ‘S that your spot, babe?” he huffs. You nod frantically, eyes glued to his lust filled ones as he continued pumping into you. “I want you to come for me again. I want to feel you. Please,” he pleads, “Need it.”  

“Oh god!” you cry out. The more he talked the closer you could feel yourself approaching your peak. “Harry -” you 

“Breathe through it, Love.” He instructs, keeping his rhythmic pace. As he grinds his hips down into yours, he demonstrates a breath, taking a deep breath in and out. You follow suit, feeling the heat pool in the bit of your stomach warm, as your orgasm grows closer and closer. 

“Harry - oh my god.” “I know, I know.” He gasps, “Let go, Baby.” And you do. Just like that, you coming around Harry’s cock, tightening around him as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “There you go,” he coos, dropping a kiss to your forehead, before tucking himself back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “Good girl. Fuck baby.” 

Harry’s thrusts become sloppy as he struggles to hold himself up above you, feeling his own climax quickly approaching. “I’m gonna come baby.” Harry pants. 

“Please.” you whimper, holding his face in his hands. You bring your lips up to his, moaning into the kiss, “I want you to.” 

“Fuck.” He huffs, and with a few more deep strokes, Harry comes apart above you. 

He grinds his hips to a stop, burying himself into your neck, kissing your shoulder, as you run your nails up and down his back, trying to catch your breath. 

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the weight of him on top of you, and Harry enjoying your hand in his hair. Once he heard your breath slow, he slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead, and rolling off of you.

“I’ll be right back.” he smiles.

“Okay.” you whisper with a sweet smile.   

Harry drags his boxer briefs up his legs, looking back at you with a smile before he’s out the door. 

“Shit.” you giggle, looking up at the ceiling. You look over at the clock on his nightstand, and smirk.  Nearly an hour and a half  has passed. I really got the Harry Experience ™ you muse, to yourself. 

Sitting up in bed, you scan the messy bedroom floor to find your clothes. Before you get a chase to put your bra back on, Harry is back with bottles of water, some snacks and a towel. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks,  He sets down the two bottles of water, snacks on his nightstand.

“Getting dressed.” 

“What for?” he pouts, crawling into his bed, lifting his sheets for you to follow,  “Come back here.” you allow him to pull you back into his side, resting your head on his chest.  

“I don’t want to overextend my stay.” you whisper 

“You’re not.  Let me hold you for a bit. Not done taking care of you.”  

He kisses the crown of your head, and it feels almost too intimate, but still you relax in his arms, letting out a deep breath, allowing the gentle motion of his hand stroking your back to calm you. 

“Can you do me a favor?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Promise me that we’ll still be friends.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. A little too long for your liking before he finally speaks. 

“I don’t think I can do that.” Harry says, and there's a slight panic at his words until you look up at him and see he’s smirking down at you. 

“I got you pussy whipped that quick, Styles?” you joke, poking at his side, and he laughs. 

“Maybe.” he smirks, before looking at you earnestly, “Or maybe hearing you moan my name made me realize it’s something I've wanted for a long time.” 

“Oh.” you sigh. 

“Or maybe I’m just selfish, and I don’t like the idea of anyone else seeing you that way. Especially if they aren’t going to treat you right.” 

“And you want to treat me right?” you smile

“I do.” He says firmly, “Give me a chance. Just one date. A real one. Ideally one where we stay clothed, and vertical.” he smirks.  “And if you don’t want to pursue anything, then…I’m happy to stay friends. But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t try.” 

You look at him, trying to find a hint of dishonesty, but you couldn’t find it. 

“Okay, Styles. One date.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” you smile, snuggling back into his chest. 

Everything between you two has changed. That’s for sure. But maybe it’s for the better.  And maybe this is just the beginning. 

a/n: imagine harry as your fwb *deep sigh*

✨masterlist✨| ✨yap & request box✨

[vampiric-tempt]

≡;- ꒰ °When they get jealous ꒱

➤ tw: slight suggestive themes

a/n: I've been really rusty with writing recently. Like really rusty, but I hope this is okay !! >:3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Roronoa Zoro

Zoro’s brow twitched in annoyance as he heard your laughs across the deck. And not to him, but to the damn cook who swooned over your presence. 

Sanji continued to pepper your arms with kisses, giving you drinks and snacks whenever you wanted it. It was like he was crazier over you than anybody else on the ship. His partner. 

Zoro was too caught up in his thoughts, as he absent mindedly lifted his weights. 

“Zo?” You called. “Hey! Zo!” Your hands waved across his face causing him to jolt a little. 

“Y/n, hey.” Was all he said as he continued to lift his weights. 

You frowned. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“I’m fine.” He grunted, dropping his weights. He brushed past you and positioned himself for pushups.

You immediately knelt beside him with your lips pursed. You had a vague idea why he was acting this way and it was always for the same reason. “Y’know Sanji is just being nice.”

“Yeah.” Zoro deadpans. “Is kissing your arms nice?”

“N-no not necessarily…”

Zoro directed his eyes to the ground and started his routine. “We’re done here.” 

Not wanting to end the conversation, you persisted. “It’s just his nature Zo, y’know that. There’s no need to be jealous-”

“Jealous? Is that what you think this is?” He huffed. 

You bit the inside of your lips. “This is exactly what this is. I’m not blind.” 

Zoro halted his movements and moved to position himself in front of you. “Do you ever think to ask why I feel that way?”

“Can I ask now?” You leaned to meet his gaze. 

Zoro grumbled to himself. His hand rubbed against his neck. He didn’t know what he felt at that moment. Jealousy over Sanji, or the fluttery feeling in his stomach as you gave him that stupid look with your stupid cute eyes. “S’just I can’t provide the romance Sanji does. Sometimes I think you want that…and I can’t give it.”

A small smile reached your lips at Zoro’s vulnerability. “No, I think you’re perfect.”

The tips of Zoro’s ears reddened. “Yeah right.”

“No I’m being serious,” You scooted closer to him, hands tilting his head. “You’re my handsome boy.”

Zoro’s face flushed as he looked away, your gaze too strong. “Alright that’s enough!” He gently shoves you causing you to laugh. 

“What, I thought you liked that nickname?”

Zoro huffed. “I never said that.”

You hummed. “Are youuuu feeling any better?”

Zoro scratched the back of his head in thought and turned to you, a smirk across his face. “I will once you meet me in the bird’s nest tonight.”

Shaking your head you threw out a pinky “That’s a promise then, you dog.” 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Crocodile

Miss All Sunday was a beautiful woman. Crocodile knew that, but he didn’t like the way she had you all over her. You were soooo curious about the books she has read, why didn’t you ask him about books. He read too. 

About five more minutes, Crocodile had enough. He made his way over and hooked you toward him. “Miss All Sunday, I think you’ve had something of mine a little too long. I require my partner’s presence now.” 

Robin smiled, she knew her actions had irked the man. “My apologies, I wasn’t aware you could get so jealous of us bonding over books?” 

Crocodile tsked and left without a second to spare, dragging you along with his hook. 

“You were jealous?” You asked, a hint of amusement to your voice. 

“Hardly, I merely wanted you is all.”

“Yeahh.” You dropped the subject and allowed your lover to drag you through the long corridor till you both stopped at a pair of dark oak doors. 

His hook ushered you in and you gasped at the sight. It was a large old looking library. “Since when was this here?” You awed. 

“Since forever. I just never bothered with it. But you, my love, seem to have an interest in books.”

You smirked. “So you were jealous. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Crocodile rolled his eyes. “My love, if it’s books you want, I have way more than what that woman can give.” 

“And I appreciate the show of love.” Your hands dragged across the dusty books. “This actually means a lot, thank you.” 

You felt Crocodile’s hook hug your body as he dragged you toward him once again, his other hand making itself comfortable on your waist. “I can provide you way more than just books.” His tone lowered causing you to suck in your breath. 

“I know that.”

“Then why don’t I show you how much more I can provide you…perhaps in the master bedroom, my love?”

You placed a hand on his chest, the scent of his cigar blinding your senses. “I would love that actually.” 

“Then allow me.” He lifted you into his arms, making his way down the hall. You laughed excitedly and as you passed another hallway, your eyes met with Robin’s and all she gave was a wink before she left you two to your fun. 

You had to thank her later. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Trafalgar Law

He felt absolutely nothing whenever it was his crew hanging around you, but when his crew met up with the Strawhats and Kid pirates. He didn’t know what to feel when you got involved in a conversation between Zoro and the massacre soldier. Two relatively attractive men. 

Did he feel a little insecure, yes. But he wouldn’t admit that. Never in his life would he. 

It wasn’t till you two were alone in the tang, getting ready for bed did Law decide to speak up. 

“So, you seem very fond of the other crews.” 

“Oh,” You perked up at your boyfriend’s voice. “Yeah, they seem really cool.”

Law nodded at your statement. “I could see how some could be cool. Is there any that peak your interest?”

You pondered for a bit. “Um yeah, why the sudden questions Law?” 

Law shrugged. “Just curious s’all.” 

Shrugging you purse your lips in thought. “Well, I find the swordsman and massacre soldier really cool. Especially since they fought recently.”

“Yeah I saw you three talking.” Law says. 

“Yep, I was asking them about fighting tips, y’know useful things for further battles.” 

Law hummed. “I see.”

You tilted your head, eyes analyzing your lover. “Were you by any chance…jealous?” 

“Never.” Law was quick as he sat himself on his side of the bed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You laughed. 

“Why are you laughing, there’s nothing funny.” Law said defensively.

“Oh I knowww it’s just, you can be so cute sometimes.”

Law gave a look of embarrassment, eyes flickering between you and the wall. “C-cute??” I’m not cute.”

“Okay okay,” You scooted beside him. “You’re handsome.” 

Law smiled, leaning into your touch. “As you are, Y/n-ya.” He moved in for a kiss, a kiss you happily accepted. Your hands entangled in his as he moved over your body, arms on either side of your head. 

Law pulled away from the kiss with a smirk. “You do a lot of things to me Y/n-ya.”

“Like what?”

“Make me realize I’m the luckiest man alive. I never thought I’d be able to find love till I found you.”

You pulled Law in for a chaste kiss. “If making you jealous makes you this romantic, I would’ve done it sooner.”

“Don’t dream of it.” Law pinches your cheek and settles beside you. “If I were actually jealous I’d do a lot more than just be romantic, you know that.” 

“Ohhh I know.”

[lazysoulwriter]

no more hiding - drew starkey.

You and Drew had never needed labels. There was no pressure, no expectations. Just the two of you, drawn to each other in a way that no one else could understand. You were exclusive, that was clear. He was yours. You were his. It had never needed to be said.

Until tonight.

The party was in full swing, the music pulsing through the air, blending with the hum of conversations and the occasional bursts of laughter. Your friends were chatting away, their voices distant and muffled as if you were underwater. You weren’t listening. How could you, when your eyes were locked on him?

Drew looked effortlessly gorgeous, as always, dressed in a fitted black shirt that accentuated his frame, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms. He stood in the center of a small group of women, their laughter ringing in your ears like an alarm.

You watched as they touched him—light brushes on his arm, fingers lingering a little too long, eyes filled with admiration. And though he subtly leaned away, his eyes flickering to you with silent apologies, it wasn’t enough. Not tonight.

Something inside you twisted, your chest tightening with a mixture of emotions you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. It was a realization.

This wasn’t enough anymore.

Your hands trembled in your lap, your heart hammering against your ribs. The lump in your throat grew, and before you could stop them, tears welled up in your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but Drew saw. Of course, he did.

His expression changed in an instant, concern flashing across his features. Without a word, he raised his hand slightly, motioning for you to follow him. Your legs carried you outside before you could think, your body moving on instinct.

The cool night air hit your flushed cheeks, but it did nothing to stop the way your emotions spiraled out of control. The second the door shut behind you, you broke.

A sob tore through your throat as you reached for him, your hands gripping his shoulders, your face burying in the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you instantly, strong and warm, holding you as if he could shield you from everything.

“I can’t—” Your voice broke between gasps, your fingers clutching at his shirt. “I can’t do this anymore, Drew. I can’t pretend. I can’t watch from a distance like I’m no one to you.”

His grip on you tightened. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, pressing his lips against your temple. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t realize—”

“You’re not losing me,” you cut in, shaking your head. “But I need—”

“I know what you need,” he interrupted, his voice firm, resolute.

And then, before you could say another word, he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. And in that moment, under the dim glow of the streetlight, in front of the handful of people who had stepped outside, Drew Starkey made a decision.

“No more hiding,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “You are mine. And I am yours. Officially.”

He didn’t ask. He didn’t hesitate.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft, hesitant kiss. It was deep, raw, filled with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back for too long. His hands cradled your face as he kissed you like he was branding the truth into your soul—there was no more uncertainty, no more questions.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a small smile playing on his lips. “You good?”

You nodded, still breathless, a tear slipping down your cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb before taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. Then, with a kiss to the back of your hand, he turned and led you back inside.

This time, there was no space between you. No more distance. No more hiding.

And everyone knew.