#the fact that it took him knowing at least 3 people that were overcome with madness

[natjennie]

shout out to laios for constantly being out of the fucking loop. most protagonists would pay attention to the things happening around them and pick up on themes and lore. not him baby. he is simply not listening to you tell him this important prophecy; he's thinking about lunch. and his fursona.

[alwaysanundertone]

hiw Abt a marauderers x FEM reader, like where it's after a double moon or smth and Remus is EXTREMELY clingy to the reader, snuggled in her, doesnt let her move, literally anything...and sirius on the other hand is in an awful mood cuz he had some family problem or some thing...he needs support and the reader or Remus aren't there to help him out..and jamesie? Well he had a quidditch match and lost that and is in an equally depressive mood...they all need the reade..but she isn't able to comfort them all...

Sirius becomes and and shouts at the reader...rmeua shouts at sirius for shouting at the reader and James (he can't shout, he's too sweet lol) argues with Remus for being to clingy to the reader...

And so they all get mad and stuff and go to other rooms of the house (lol)

This keeps on continuing until the reader lashes out on all three of them!!!

(p.s: u can totally not do it, if u don't like it lol)

my first request! I'm kind of nervous. My requests are open, and while writing this I realized how much I love them! So feel free to send them <3

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader

slight angst / a bit of fluff

word count: 1.8k

CW: mention of abusive household

part 1, part 2 , part 3

When you started dating the Marauders, the first thing that your friend Dorcas said was to beware, polyamorous relationship could be tough. At first, you brushed her off: you knew that, but your love for the boys would have overcome everything.

Or at least you thought so.

You have been experiencing the worst week of your whole life, you were stressed over your head with schoolwork, wanting to stay on top of your class but, also, struggling too, and this time, your boyfriends weren’t helping at all.

It all started with the fact that, obviously, it was the week before the full moon, meaning that Remus was extremely on edge, but also clingy. Having an afternoon for yourself was a luxury: the werewolf had to stay by your side all of the time. You didn’t quite get this clinginess, because he behaved this way only with you; he wanted to have the other two marauders near, of course, but he was fine as long as you didn’t wonder off, and sometimes he seemed to be a bit possessive over you. So, let’s say that if you felt the need to have some practice lessons for potions, he had to be there, and it didn’t matter if the professor didn’t want anyone else in the room with you: you had to choose between having him near you, or skipping the extra lessons you so desperately needed.

“Remus, I know it’s stressful for you, but you must understand I have to take this class. It’s not like I’m going to be gone all afternoon, I’m asking you for two hours maximum. You know that Slughorn doesn’t like having other people during these lessons, and he’s doing me a favour here” He looked like you just might have kicked him.

“I don’t understand why my partner suddenly doesn’t want me around.” You took a deep breath: truth was, you knew that he wasn’t being unreasonable because he wanted to. If his werewolf instincts weren’t acting up, he would have probably pushed you to take even more lessons, but now he wasn’t in his right mind. You had to chance tactic.

“Baby, you know that I love you, right? I love you so, so much” You took his face into your hands, you saw his expression visibly shift. “And I know it isn’t easy for you, I know that. I swear, if you go napping now, you won’t even notice I’m gone”

“But napping is way more fun with you” His voice turned sultry, his hands now groping your ass lightly. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of need, but now was not the time.

“Tell you what, I’m going to lay down with you until you’re asleep. I’ll give you some head scratches, then, when I’ll be back, you’ll have me all to yourself. Does this sound good?” His pupils were now a little bit wider; he nodded and hauled you on his shoulder, making you yelp when he made you fall on the bed. He positioned his head on your chest, a hand crawling underneath your shirt to grip one of your tits possessively, while the other one stayed underneath your ass, the tips of his fingertips hovering dangerously close to your core.

You knew that his hold wasn’t casual: he was trying to make you stay, knowing the effect that he had on you, but you couldn’t give in: you had to stay strong,  because deep down you knew that, if you failed this exam, you wouldn’t be in the right mind to help Remus during the full moon.

You just had to get through this week, it was only 7 days, right? And most of today was gone, if the other boys would be helpful, as they always did, everything was going to be just fine.

You wandered off to the Great Hall for breakfast, exhausted. After the lesson with Slughorn, you came back to a very needy Remus, who took all of his clinginess out of you, leaving you sore and tired; while he slept soundly, though, you had to study and make up for the hours lost being supportive for your boyfriend, leaving you with about two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.

“Hey girl, didn’t see you in our dorm room yesterday, oh what the fuck-“ Dorcas looked at you like you might have grown another head during the nighttime. “Babes, have you slept? Like, at all?”

“No, I haven’t. Remus is being extremely clingy, and you know that I’m not the best when it comes to Potions. Given the fact that the test is going to be next week, I barely have time to rest” She scoffed, but you interrupted her before she could start. “I know that James and Sirius should help, but he’s being this clingy only with me, and they can’t do much about that; plus, the upcoming game is stressing them out so much, yesterday they came to bed after practice, they didn’t even eat anything. I just want to support them”

She sighed. “I know baby, but try to not burn out, okay? If you need any help, I’m here, you know? Now, let’s go eat something”

You were happy to share some time with her and your boyfriends, but when you sat next to Sirius, one look at him told you anything that there was to know.

He didn’t greet you, didn’t sport his usual smirk: he was looking down at his plate like it might have held the answer to all his problems, while James looked at you preoccupied. Remus just held you close to himself. You tried to peel yourself away from his embrace, to not avail.

“Sirius, baby, do you want to talk? We can skip the first few hours and go on a walk to the Black Lake?” Now he was looking at you, his eyes were red and puffy, you tried to not cringe at his expression.

“It’s okay, Y/N, just the usual” You hated how he always seemed to shut down, not wanting to share his problems with you. As you tried to reach for his hand, Remus snatched you back, holding you close to him: you could see the moment in which Sirius shut you out for good, and you wanted to kick Remus for it.

“I’m going to handle this, you’re going to think about Remus, okay darling? Then I will report back to you, I swear” James whispered in your ear, You took a deep breath, nodding: you were thankful for him, but you still didn’t want to make Sirius feel like he couldn’t count on you.

You had the time to eat a biscuit before you had to head to class, Remus trailing behind you. You just had to wait for a few days, a few days and all of this would be over, and you had James to help you get through this week. You would be fine, you told yourself.

On Wednesday, you were thankful that Remus had an important herbology test, which gave you enough time to check in with Sirius. You entered their dorm room, spotting his curled frame under piles of blankets: you felt a pang of guilt, you swore your heart broke just a little.

Without making any sounds, you peeled the blankets off and wrapped your body around his, he startled in his sleep.

“Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re safe, you know that? And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what” It was like you opened a faucet: his body started trembling, and then came the sobbing, he turned around and hugged you back, you caressed his head and back softly. After he quieted down a bit, you took his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Would you like for me to sing for you?” He nodded eagerly, burying his face in your chest, while you sang him a lullaby.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out. Your heart ached for your lover, you didn’t know what living in an abusive household felt like, and you sometimes even felt guilty over the fact that you had the most loving parents someone could ever asked for. You knew it was silly, but if you could, you’d swap family in a blink of an eye, everything to take this burden off of Sirius’s shoulders.

“Is he okay?” James whispered, startling you. He bent down, placing a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t know, Jamie. He had a breakdown, now he is asleep. I don’t know how to help him, I don’t want him to suffer like this every month.”

“I know, love, I know. You’re doing your best, and he appreciates it. But” He looked at you embarrassed, and you already knew what was going on, you sighed. “Remus just finished his test, and he’s going kind of nuts, he wants you by his side. You should go”

“Can’t he just come here, so we could cuddle?”

“I don’t know, love. This moon seems different, he got a lot more possessive over you. He just wants you for himself, I think we’re going to fix this before the next month, but for now, I think you should go”

You nodded, looking down art Sirius for the last time, before looking for Remus.

You prayed Sirius didn’t feel abandoned by you,  but you still had James to count on.

On Thursday, you stayed in bed all day with Remus. You studied, of course, and he seemed happy to have you around. You didn’t see Sirius at all, given the fact that you stayed at your dorm, but you thought that James was handling him well.

Exactly, you thought, because, as you and Remus took your seats for the Friday’s night Quidditch game, after having studied all day in the library, you felt a bit anxious. You told yourself you were being paranoid, but deep down, you knew something was off, and when Sirius entered the Quidditch pitch, you knew he wasn’t okay. He didn’t come to greet you, didn’t even look at you, and when you shoot a glance at James, he just averted his gaze: you were fucked.

You took a deep breath and snuggled closer to Remus, his clinginess now comforting, as the game begun. From the first actions, you knew that they were going to lose: Sirius looked like he wasn’t even trying, while James was too preoccupied to check on him to score a single goal.

And as the game ended, you knew your night was going to be an awful one: Gryffindor just lost the game.

[grimm-writings]

hi hi it's bard anon again :) i was rereading the manga and remembered that chilchuck's nightmares would be about losing his daughters... could you write about reader going into his dream (like laios did for marcille) and helping him through it? maybe also promising to keep his secret, asking if he's still married, etc. hehe

aisling

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! hurt/comfort, reader is not a half-foot, some descriptions of gore and body horror, CHILCHUCK PSYCHOANALYSIS 🔥 

…wc! 1773

…notes! grimm lore drop, i’m irish! thus the title of this fic is after the as gaeilge word for ‘dream’. enjoooooy <3

You repeat Laios’ instructions in your head as you try to drift off.  Chilchuck’s body is a bit small to make much of a pillow, but at least his warmth distracts you from the worried stares of your peers.

“You probably have to fight through your own nightmare to get to him!”  Laios keeps reassuring you.  “So be on guard!  Remember what I told y–”

“They get it, Laios!” Marcille yanks the tall-man away from where you’re struggling to drift off.  His barrage of information is in good faith, but it isn’t exactly the best white noise to fall asleep to.

Eventually, you find yourself in your dreamscape.  Quickly, quickly, you let your mind run with ideas of how to ‘dig down’ as Laios described it.  Chilchuck is resting underneath you, so the only way to go was in fact down.

The question is… how?

It took a lot of quick-thinking in order to bypass your own personal insecurities (you don’t have the time to dwell on them– Chilchuck is in trouble!) but eventually you imagined a jackhammer drill to make your way down.  You had to admit it wasn’t the most efficient, but it was the first thing you could come up with!

When you land and face another injury on your backside again, you groan, hoping the effects of the nightmare meant your pain wouldn’t carry over into the real world.

You look up, surprised to find yourself in what looks like a cottage.  It would be rather cosy-looking if not for the torn wallpaper, axe thrown into the wall, and blood splattered all over the place.  You could even hear despairing wails of crying echoing through the place…

Hang on.  You try to prick up your ears.  No, it doesn’t sound too distant at all.  You try to navigate your way through the place that was once a loving home.  You take notice of your size in comparison to the door frames and furniture– you’re way too large in comparison.  This is a home of a half-foot.

Was a home of a half-foot you know very well, you realise with your blood running cold.  Entering the next room you found Chilchuck.  He’s on his knees, hands being held in the air and shaking in a way you’ve never seen him before.  He’s horrified.  Over his lap are the heads of three girls, all brutally mutilated and bloodied in ways that made you feel ill.  One girl looks nearly identical to Chilchuck.

You have a suspicion of what’s going on.

What you have to do is protect Chilchuck from the emotional scarring of the nightmare.  How can you do that, when he already has the blood of three people– likely loved ones– on his hands?  You can hear him whispering “why me?” over and over in the shakiest whimper before he chokes mid-sob.

Creeping over without a sound proves difficult as the door creaks loudly.  Chilchuck immediately stops his crying and freezes as he looks up at you.

‘Be encouraging,’ Laios’ words echo in your mind, ‘encourage him to overcome his fear the nightmares are exploiting.’

Easier said than done, as you can hear another presence approaching.  Your footstep must have alerted it.  Chilchuck rises to his feet.

“It’s coming,” he tells you, trying to keep his voice firm and grounded, “but don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

…Oh!  Looks like he’s already well underway trying to fight back against the nightmare!  This will be easy!  You were so chuffed, you almost forgot that usually you aren’t supposed to be recognised in dreams.

Still, you watch as Chilchuck limps to stand in front of you.  He looks… smaller than usual.  Odd.

You tug on Chilchuck’s tunic with an appreciative grin.  “You’re so brave, Chil.  I know you can defeat the intruder!”

“...Yeah.  It’s my job to get you outta this mess, huh?”

An odd thing to say, but you agree nevertheless.  Encourage, encourage, encourage.  “You’ll get us out of here in no time,” you whisper to Chilchuck, rubbing the fabric of his tunic reassuringly.  “I have faith in you.”

He shifts under your touch as you say this.

You glance over at the limp bodies of the three girls.  You wonder what had gotten them so grievously injured.  Their wounds look non-existent save for splashes of blood on their clothes and red running from their lips.  Chilchuck has already been a bit queasy towards gore.  Maybe imagining anything too excessive would be too much for him.

Then, ‘it’ arrives.

It was a twisted amalgamation of flesh and bone.  Its jaw is unhinged, what could either be blood-red lipstick or the bodily fluid itself running from you think are its lips.  Its hair was dark and matted.  It’s just barely shorter than Chilchuck himself, you notice.  It’s like an uncannily recreated half-foot woman.

When it sees Chilchuck, it screams in a woman’s voice, something about how ‘it’s supposed to be date night.’ 

It ran away at the very sight of him.  At the sight of him with you.

What could that mean…?

Once it leaves, Chilchuck collapses again.  He looks up at you, his eyes big and full of terror.  “Is the party okay?  Where are they?!  I need– I need to make sure they don’t–”

He begins crawling over to the door.  The party?  They’re… here?  No, this is probably another aspect of his nightmare.  These girls are here, either dead when he found them, or he watched them get hurt.

Either way, he was too late.

Cogs began to turn.  Could Chilchuck be afraid of… not being able to protect his loved ones from harm?  The cottage was basically turned into a slaughterhouse.  As for the monster…

“Who’s that woman?” you ask.

“I– I think it’s supposed to be my wife,” he explains rather easily.  Maybe the dreams encourage such honesty.  “But it isn’t.  I know it isn’t.  None of this makes sense…”

…His wife? 

No, no, not the time…  Later.

“That’s because it’s a nightmare, Chil…” you try to explain.  “You have to face your fear.”

“My fear?!”  Chilchuck turns to glare at you.  “Sorry for being so naive, but my ‘fear’ is out of my control!  If I’m here, there’s a chance no one will get hurt.  I–I just need to find the rest of you.  I can’t let you be taken away from me because I was being stupid.”

You grab Chilchuck’s wrist to prevent him from limping away into the cottage’s halls.  “Why don’t you… talk to it– I mean, your wife?”

He freezes.  He turns back at you, his glare making his eyebags look heavier.  “Are you insane?”

“She’s your wife.”

Chilchuck swallows.  His wrist slips from your grip so he could intertwine his fingers with you instead.  “There’s too many things I know she’ll ask from me.”

“Like?”

“Like…  Why don’t I come home more often?  Do I love her anymore?”

You squeeze Chilchuck’s hand, rising to your feet.  “Do you?”

“I do.”  He doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Then tell her.”

Chilchuck deliberates on this for a moment.  He then looks up at you.

“Stay with me,” he requests in the quietest voice, “stay with me as I talk to her.”

Though his words made your chest feel weird, you shake your head.  “This is your job as a husband.  Not anyone else’s.  You can’t protect everyone forever, not even yourself.  Running won’t solve anything.”

Chilchuck is quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words.  He then slowly nods.  “At least walk with me over there.”

“Now that I can do,” you return with a smile.

The floors creak underneath your feet as you journey through the halls.  You can see in the corners of your eye, in the kitchen, a certain dwarf bloodied and kneeling over the sink.  You recognise the body of a spindly tuxedo cat with her arm hanging as she lays on the rafters.  She’s the source of the dripping red onto your clothes.

“I couldn’t protect them, trying to be everywhere at once,” Chilchuck murmurs as you come across an elf strangled with her own hair.

Your eyes lay on the woman feeding on the remains of a tallman and squeeze Chilchuck’s hand.

“It’s okay.  Just talk to her.”

He looks up at you, and you nod.  Chilchuck smiles slightly, and you can see a bit of that spark in his eyes again.  “It… really is a dream that you’re here, y’know?”

You return the smile, and move away.  You’re just out of the room when you hear Chilchuck take a breath and say, “so how about that date night, my love?”

As you walk away, you notice that from the room you left, light seems to be seeping through.  Before you know it, it envelops you.

Suddenly, you’re awake in the dungeon again.  When Laios awoke after saving Marcille, it was very sudden and unpleasant.  Yet this… this was calm, and you feel all fuzzy…

…Oh, but if you could only remember what had happened.  The images are blurry in your mind.  You do remember one thing, at least—

“You’re awake!”  Marcille’s voice is the first to grab your attention, helping you sit up.  “That’s a good sign!”

Laios is there behind you.  “And here’s Chil.  How ya doin’, buddy?”

“Shut it,” Chilchuck’s groggy morning voice is the most relieving thing to hear right now.  Seems you were successful in your mission, even if you can’t remember most of it.

Laios whines a little.  “Don’t be like that!  You had nightmares!  And your hero is right here!”

As Chilchuck sits up and turns to look at you in surprise, you wave back sheepishly.  Laios takes the opportunity to take Chilchuck’s pillow and get rid of the clam-like monsters.

“Oh,” Chilchuck responds with a few blinks.  “I was wondering why my dream was nicer than usual.”

“Oooh, what didja dream about?” Marcille asks nosily.  As she leans her face in, Chilchuck furrows his brow and pushes her away, claiming it’s none of her business.

The answer would be given soon when Senshi takes the opportunity to boil the nightmares.  A cottage scene, and there Chilchuck was, laughing and smiling as he has a candlelit dinner with…

You?

“Enough, enough, enough!” Chilchuck was quick to try and push the pot lid down over the clams in embarrassment.

What?  That’s not how you remember things going.  You squint.  “But I thought you had a…”  You look over at Chilchuck trying to fight back against the questions and accusations being thrown at him from all sides.  

You can’t help but smile a little, flushing a bit pink.  You can keep a secret.

[theoxenfree]

cort!! hope you've been doing well <3

this is really random but i remember you posted somewhere on your old blog you were reading this thing between us by gus moreno and i just finished it recently and was wondering about your thoughts!

finally answering this, sen! literally just finished the book after slamming it out in like a day.

first and foremost:

overall rating ⭐⭐⭐.5/5

fucked up rating 💀💀💀.8/5

MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS

overall, I think it was an interesting read and a fascinating take on the whole "possession" trope while integrating the inescapability of technology, grief, and struggles with cultural identity. those themes came thru consistently and potently throughout the entire story and I'm glad for that.

interestingly, I'm actually really delighted to have a protagonist like Thiago bc he never really grows from his experiences—only dissolves deeper into his grief and struggles, still blames himself, and I think his story was really the exploration of the opposite side of grief. usually, we read novels where the protagonists overcome their grief or, at the very least, learn to accept their lives as they were by the end—thiago just sort of continually spirals throughout the entire thing and sort of relents to the fact that he's going to die no matter what he does

I don't have a lot to say in regards to the cultural identity stuff bc it isn't something I can relate to on any level—but, moreno made sure this was a pretty significant focal point throughout the story, albeit quite spotty, and other reviewers don't seem pleased with the route he went with it.

I've read some people think moreno just spent a whole lot of time trashing mexican culture than anything else, but I do think that his idea was to write about a character who came from a "hard" background, who grew up knowing nothing besides that, and never really was given the opportunity to fully escape that. sure, vera is there, and he loves her, but I feel like a big point moreno tried to make was not only the significance of having vera come from a "easy" background (both parents, never having to struggle), but to have them culturally similar to sort of... idk really drive home that Thiago holds some sort of internal resentment towards her for that, and that he could never view himself as anything other than less than.

I could be completely wrong, but that's just sort of how I ended up interpreting it. some reviewers definitely didn't approach it critically, but even tho it was done poorly in some places, moreno really tried to give the cultural identity stuff complexity and I can respect the attempt there.

uhhhh

man, I am too tired to try to theorize about what the fuck was happening half of the time in the novel, but I do think: 1) this was more than a demon, but an interdimensional entity trying to make itself "real". 2) why it was trapped in a itza I have no fucking clue 3) probably the scenes of the beach and the table were easily the creepiest scenes in the book

it's fascinating bc Thiago does a pretty good job doing everything "right". he resists. he avoids. he runs. he destroyed the itza. tried to destroy the wall. tried to do the rituals that diane suggested. he's a lot more mentally robust of a character than he was aware of it and it took MULTIPLE deaths and possessions to finally get him to fully surrender; whereas he spent the entire novel believing that he was the weak one compared to vera.

one thing I'm thinking about is that this is technically a psychological horror—there are numerous times throughout the story where reality shifts, you're not sure of your head or your ass, and what the hell is going on. I think that's partially bc moreno may not be too familiar writing those sorts of things, bc I was confused more times than not BUT

in the beginning when thiago first met the cook at that diner, he drank the milkshake and it seemed to me that the diner actually existed. just like the possessions of brimley and jacobson actually existed, but, like, idk it makes me wonder how much was actually hallucinated vs real idk

gore was plentiful, somewhat gratuitous, but not really detailed enough to make me squeamish so it's whatever. tho, not-brimley's zipper mouth of teeth and Jacobson's eel eyes definitely put unique images in my head that are gonna hang around for a while. I really digged how moreno described the cook's real body bc as being fibrous, viscous, like some sort of bug covered in something—i think. it sounds and feels like it'd be gross and unnatural.

moreno's descriptive language was quite good imo. his imagery never really fell flat and he had this way of creating very specific, saturated images in your head that I really respect and is probably one of the biggest things I took away from his writing style. that imagery definitely did most of the heavy lifting for the story bc w/o it, the writing would've kinda just... a pissed off, grieving man whining the entire time.

one thing I did find jarring was how direct he could be with some details e.g. the scene where Jacobson throws Thiago into the grave and, like, hits him with the shovel and basically scalps him—it's so point blank that I'm like ?????

like, cool. I get it, but ???????

as a writer, I understand not everything deserves a paragraph of description to make it effective, but some elements could've been expanded imo

hands on hips

the ending was pretty bleak and it was meant to be bc this is, ultimately, a man who's been chased down to the point of being physically, emotionally, and psychologically exhausted and has completely surrendered by the end with a dim smolder left to fuck with cook just as a final 🖕🏻. fitting.

I felt pretty neutral about it tbh. not particularly impressed. not really able to say it was awful. it was kinda just "eh, that works, I guess. nebulous as hell, but whatever"

and, yeah!!! it was an okay book that was pretty easy to read and shred thru. not really making any of my lists for outstanding literature, but worth the time if you wanna read something sort of gory, highly atmospheric

what are your thoughts?????

[horizon-verizon]

The fact that before meeting Daenaera, Aegon III had another close companion, Gaemon Palehair, whom Aegon loved like a brother. Yet, Gaemon failed to lift his spirit. Daenaera did. And since she’s just a 6 years-old child, I don’t think she did that in a mental counselor way. Daenaera just being herself is enough. Because of her bright and sparkling personality, Aegon became much happier, more lively, and took a new interest in his studies and ruling.

Then about what happened next. People knows “even Queen Daenaera was neglected” after Viserys’ return. I think that’s very normal and didn’t diminished the previous affection for her. Because by then, Aegon and Daenaera only known each other for, at most, 3 months. It’s very understandable Aegon prefered the brother who grew up with him and lost for years (especially since Aegon always blamed himself for Viserys’ “death”) than a child whose company he enjoyed for only 3 months. But even being “neglected”, Daenaera wad still considered a part of Aegon’s intimate circle. He still often dined with her. And after the poisoning happened, despite his grief for Gaemon Palehair, he still stayed at her bedside over nights. So even being kinda neglected as the maesters stated, he never ignored her the way he ignored his first wife. It’s safe to say Daenaera is someone important to him and that he cared a lot about her.

Their adulthood life was not much written in the book. The only thing we knew is that Aegon “was long in calling her to his bed, but eventually they had five children”. The first part is not that true. Daeron was born in 143 AC while his mother was 16. Aegon and Daenaera probably consumated the marriage when Daenaera was 15, which was not considered late in Westeros when having offsprings. Concerning their age gap, it’s possible to believe that Aegon took time to overcome his touch aversion. But it’s also reasonable to comprehend it as Aegon caring about Daenaera’s health. For instance, Jaehaerys refused to consummate his marriage, believing Alysanne to still be too young.

Last but not the least, they had 5 children in a very short period of only 7 years. Some would just explain this as their duty. However, everything in the book suggests Aegon is not the kind of person who obsessed with heir of his own blood. In F&B, he even suggested Gaemon Palehair as his heir. His duty of having heirs is even gone after Viserys’ return and him having two trueborn sons with Larra Rogare. We know Aegon deeply loved his brother, certainly passing the throne to Viserys without having sons of his own wouldn’t have been a problem to Aegon. Yet, he still had five children with Daenaera. If it’s still for duty, two sons would be enough to secure the line. He could’ve stopped there and back to his undisturbed melancholy. Yet, they kept having children in a high frequency.

As for their family, it might be somewhat dysfunctional but definitely not loveless as some suggested. Daena was well-known for worshipping her father, always wore black to emulate him, and cherished the golden pendant he gave her for the rest of her life. She also adored and admired her eldest brother Daeron I. Aegon didn’t even let Viserys keep a dragon egg in the Red Keep, but he allowed his daughter Elaena to have a dragon egg. Elaena liked to dress in black to mimic Daena.

Furthermore, Aegon’s and Daenaera’s eldest son and daughter were named after Daenaera’s father and herself. These two are the future king and (possibly queen if they follow the tradition). It not hard to infer that Aegon cherished Daenaera enough to name his children after her and her family. I really think they eventually fell in love with each other.

P.S: Sorry for the grammatical errors, English is not my first language.

Anon, you definitely put more thought into Aegon & Daenaer's relationship than I did. (I have a post about Daenaera HERE, and a recent one about Aegon and Jaehaera HERE.)

I think it was a joined thing, Gaemon and Daenaera's roles, and an effect on Aegon's happiness. Aegon was very adamant about protecting Gaemon from his abusive "teaching" sword master Gareth Long. But I agree that he considered Daenaera part of that small circle. And you present a very strong case for Aegon and Daenaera actually coming to fall in love with each other and more, stay loving each other. What clinched it for me was:

Their adulthood life was not much written in the book. The only thing we knew is that Aegon “was long in calling her to his bed, but eventually they had five children”. The first part is not that true. Daeron was born in 143 AC while his mother was 16. [They married in 133 A.C. when Aegon was 12-13 and Daenaera was 6] Aegon and Daenaera probably consumated the marriage when Daenaera was 15, which was not considered late in Westeros when having offsprings. Concerning their age gap, it’s possible to believe that Aegon took time to overcome his touch aversion. But it’s also reasonable to comprehend it as Aegon caring about Daenaera’s health. For instance, Jaehaerys refused to consummate his marriage, believing Alysanne to still be too young. [...] Yet, he still had five children with Daenaera. If it’s still for duty, two sons would be enough to secure the line. He could’ve stopped there and back to his undisturbed melancholy. Yet, they kept having children in a high frequency.

[rosecentaur1916]

An argument that Poe deserved to be left out of Holdo's plans Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

SPOILER WARNING FOR "STAR WARS: RESISTANCE REBORN" BY REBECCA ROANHORSE

When he "performs ten impossible flight manoeuvres per second to clear the way for the Resistance fleet" he had done so in the arrogance that he was the only one able to do it. When they successfully took out the dreadnought that was out of arrogance too. Then finally the mutiny on the Raddus. All fueled by the arrogance that he knew better. He defied two superior officers in the process. Yes, he can be selfless. Yes, most of those were done with selfless intentions, but the fact that the other half of his motivation was that he and the bomber squadron could do it because he said so. He didn't listen to Leia and Holdo and that is the problem. As he leaves Ephemera he ponders on his interaction with Maz and how it didn't go the way he had hoped. This leading to doubts about himself, not only as a leader, but as a soldier in the Resistance. He ponders over his mistakes, the implication of those mistakes, how he can fix what he broke, help the Resistance grow and if they would reflect on him badly in the future once people knew, if they didn't know to begin with.: "[...] Disappointment sat heavy in his chest, and then BB-8 asked him what as wrong, Poe answered truthfully. "I guess I expected more," he told the droid. "BB-8 beeped a question. ""More empathy for one," Poe answered. "More passion for the Resistance, more information. Just...more. More everything." "BB-8 whirled in sympathy. ""Maybe my expectations were too high," Poe admitted. Or maybe the problem was the messenger more than the message. Maybe Maz didn't trust him, didn't respect him. These days, he barely trusted himself. The mission to Grail City with Black Squadron had been a reprieve, a moment of reassurance among the people who loved and trusted him most in the world. But now the doubts were closing in again, making him question how he was going to overcome the mistakes above D'Qar and the mess he had made on the Raddus. Black Squadron had at least understood, and Leia seemed to understand, even if he still suspected she as disappointed in him. He could only imagine how the rest of the galaxy, the people who weren't his squadron or his friends, would react. Would every new person he met know about the errors in judgement he had committed and he huge cost in lives it had exacted? And if they didn't know now, wouldn't they eventually? It was a shame he would have to live with the rest of his life, and the only thing he could think to do to make up for it as to give his all, everything he had - body and blood and soul - to rebuilding the Resistance." Pages 110 to 111. If Poe has these doubts about himself and can reflect on his mistakes, take stock of them, question how others would see him, why can't we? We can't pretend he did nothing wrong. The Last Jedi is a movie about committing mistakes and learning from them to grow. We can't grow if we get everything right all the time. He is a flawed person, just like we all are. That's one of the reasons I love him. He takes responsibility for what he did and takes next steps to move forward and fix his mistakes. Later when he meets up with the rest of Black Squadron, the Resistance and the recruits from other squadrons Phantom, new recruits from around the galaxy, and rebel veterans. These same things come up again for Poe. Having to admit to his wrong doings, and his questions and doubts end up getting answered in more ways that one and I"ll talk more about that in part 4.

[genshinimpactlife]

Could you please write headcanons about Itto with a male reader stranded in the world of teyvat who is pretty much considered a foreign freak by the inazuman locals because of his futuristic clothes and under forced closer inspection (grabbing him, pulling up sleeves), because his arms and legs looked like the flesh and muscle was replaced by some special silvery metal, they had gaps which had light blue energy inside other than that he looked like someone from desert sumeru/natlan. Yet he spoke their language perfectly as if he was born and raised here.

He can run ridiculously fast to the point of running over water. He is reluctant to share much details only saying that were he is from he is revered for his transformation so it was a shock that the people here show him open disrespect, he didn't mean to sound arrogant. He is an INTP-T who first thought of Itto as a loud swaggering idiot who he only hangs out with because he is the first one who stood up to him and is strong, but then he grew fond over him and his gang, starts enjoying their simplistic but fun activities and apologizes for being at times a rude ass towards them. Even overcoming his fear towards insects.

He just hides the fact that he was bought then adopted by the kingdom of his world to become a deadly kinetic one man army, that's why he pretends to be a pacifist because he knows his powers at this stage could accidently hurt innocents. Just bromance wise nothing actually romantic lol

Foreign freak Headcanons

People tend to fear things they don't understand, which was the case for you.

Being named the Foreign freak by the locals makes it nearly impossible to live your life.

Many don't believe the stories and will come right up to you, pulling up your sleeves or even pant legs to see what you look like

Having silver metal skin with gaps that had blue energy within your body terrified most people. Even when you try to explain you are not going to harm anyone, they never listen.

The blatant disrespect everyone showed you made no sense, as you were revered for what you could usually do.

When you first ran into Itto, you were not a fan. At the very least, he didn't tug at your clothes like the others, but he did ask questions.

He was the only one who didn't seem bothered by you and had no issues putting up with your personality.

With nobody else to hang out with, you and Itto spent a lot of time together.

You found most of the activities simple-minded, but as time passed, you started to enjoy more of them.

You even went Onikabuto hunting with Itto, which took a lot of nagging to get you to agree. However, you have always been afraid of bugs and overcame your fear that day.

You became an official member of the Arataki Gang after knowing Itto for a while, and you were welcomed in graciously.

Itto and the gang always asked for you to show off your powers, like your speed and other strengths.

Itto never once questioned who you were since the first day you two met. It wasn't important to him what you are, only who you are.

Interesting request! I hope you enjoy <3

Tag List Link

@rainbowleo@okadahimeko @0-kuki-0 @cyberpandas-blog

[dyketennant]

and i can already tell this post is going to get all sorts of addendums that are like "but it's also okay to not like sex/be sex repulsed! <3" and like okay. cool. obviously i think advocating for sexual freedom includes accepting those who do not want sex in any form, since that on its own is rejecting a heteronormative patriarchy that expects us all to get married and make babies or whatever, and the take of "sex is a neutral act" goes both ways.

but like.. i know so many people who talk about how everything is just about hookup culture and quick fucks, but i. truly and genuinely have never lived in this world that people talk about where sex is super common and accepted. and i think this is specifically an issue with the circle i grew up in of very white queers in a very white small conservative town, where even the "progressive" of us talked about sex as if it was something gross or weird. sex never even came up with my first serious partner because i think they just assumed i was as sex-repulsed as they were, but i literally have no way of knowing because we just. didn't talk about it. end sentence.

even on dating apps, which are supposedly *swarming* with hookups, most accounts i run into explicitly state "no hookups" in their bio—exponentially more than people i've seen openly say they're just looking for casual sex. and it's never just "no hookups," there is always shameful or derogatory language attached to it in some shape or form that subconsciously creates a sense of superiority: i am looking for "real love," not hookups, because those are gross.

and again, i believe this could be an issue very specific to the lesbian/sapphic community, and i'm sure it's amplified by me living in a slightly more conservative state. and i think there is something to unpack about the fact that a lot of these puritanical queer people i've met are white, while my friend who is a lesbian in the bipoc community in LA has not experienced most of what i tell him about in my local queer spaces. i'm just not the person to be unpacking that right now, at least not in this post.

i'm sure people are going to comment that this actually is super common where they're from and they've never faced the rampant "holier-than-thou" mentality i've seen all my life, and like. okay. cool. but that is clearly not the experience of every queer person ever. do you know how many years it took me to overcome my own internalized slut shaming? i'm still not fully all-the-way there. people treat sex like something dirty and act like they have the moral high ground for thinking that, as if we do not live in a world where women are regularly slut-shamed for the clothes they wear, the people they date, and on a broader scale, we are watching their rights to sexual/reproductive freedom be stripped from them. look at all the shit about no kink at pride that keeps coming up year after year.

i just don't necessarily agree with the notion that having sex with someone who isn't a committed romantic partner is somehow a more "shallow" connection, or that something is less meaningful purely because it is sexual. sex is still a connection you make with another person, even if you never see them again afterwards. you still bonded with them in some way, you still impacted each other's lives somehow, and i don't think that's "lesser," i think it's just different. just like how sex means drastically different things to drastically different people, and it really is something deeply personal for everyone, whether you love having sex or don't want it at all.

and if you're an adult in queer spaces and you automatically default to viewing sex as a something "wrong" or "lesser than," i'm not saying you need to go consume a bunch of porn, but i do implore you to challenge that notion, and wonder who exactly benefits when you try to suppress or erase sex-positive content & voices (spoiler alert: it's conservatives. you're giving conservatives more support by attempting to erase sexuality and information about sex, especially queer sex).

i've been chewing on this one for a while and i'm not sure if i'm entirely settled on how to talk about it, nor am i sure if tumblr is ready for it, but: it is okay and cool to like hookups and casual sex. sex is a morally neutral act, and liking sex/having lots of sex doesn't make you a bad person.

[finelinevogue]

Can you expand on that topic of Harry buying that island for Y/N to conserve like you touched upon on the 73 questions thing you wrote please?

oooh yes!! i didn’t think this would be something that people would bring up but i’m excited to talk about it!! enjoy;

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 3 weeks

“What about this one?”

The same question Anne and Harry had been repeating for the last two hours. Neither Anne or Harry could decide on an island that they both thought you would absolutely love - an island that Harry would buy somewhere new for you to conserve and protect, for future family vacations and eventually potentially even retire to, whenever that day may come.

He had originally thought about purchasing a large plot of land along the coastline of Italy, because it had always captured a special place in Harrys heart. He loved the people, the culture, the weather, the food and he loved you when you’re bathing in the Italian sun. The boot-shaped country was the one in which you and Harry had spent your first holiday together. It was where you’d had your honeymoon. It was where, you’re pretty sure, that Oli was conceived. It held so many precious memories, so you both thought it time to make the country more permanent in your lives and purchase a house over there.

Unfortunately, due to coronavirus, Harry wasn’t able to physically go anywhere and house, or island, hunt - especially with a 3 week old baby. Belle had been born on October 2nd and she was an absolute angel - as happy as can be. Oli and Fix were currently looking after her, whilst Anne and Harry sorted through the mess of trying to organise the gift of a lifetime for you. Luckily you were out with a friend, shopping for baby clothes and a little something for yourself, for the day so Harry could complete his surprise in secret. Harry already held property in Malibu, New York, Japan, London and Manchester. He, until recently, had an apartment in San Fransisco, but he never used it and so the money that he got from selling that was going to be spent buying an island for you.

He always remembers one of the first conversations that he ever had with you and it was about how you wanted to change the world. You’d answered “I think i’d buy my own island and start conserving the planet one bit of land at a time, until I save it all!” Now obviously you were being very optimistic and silly with your dreams, but that’s all you thought they’d be - dreams. Harry was willing to make them a reality though. Okay, perhaps not world domination but he could start small and give you the thing you’d dreamt of even as a little girl.

“Mum—” Harry sighed, knowing he would reject it just like all the other ones she’d picked out for being either, too small, too big, too dangerous, too humanised. He didn’t care about price, he just wanted to get it right. He looked over to her computer, seeing what she’d found and brought up on her screen. “Shit, wait…”

This was it.

“Mhm?” Anne smiled knowingly.

“Give me details.” Harry asked her, pulling over his notepad and pen to jot down key information. He wasn’t planning on buying today, but he was planning on making inquiries so if he thought something needed negotiating then at least he’d have the information to hand.

“Okay, um,” she looked over the screen. Harry had only seen glimpses of the the island from the photos but even now he was fully invested in it, “it’s in Phuket, Thailand. Minimally developed on. 110 acres, but you know…”

“Could lessen due to climate change, yeah.” Harry noted and looked to his mum to see if she was continuing or not.

“They are allowing an income potential so you could build and make profit from it. Then again the island itself is $160 million so it’s going to be 7018 before you even start making a profit.” Anne joked, but Harry sighed. “What, love?”

“$160 million.” Harry pondered, thinking whether this is all worth it. It’s a huge investment and potential waste of money, but it was for you.

“You’re a near billionaire Harry. What else are you going to do with all your money? You could build back half of that money just from releasing a new album with no promotion. Imagine if you released a documentary or something too. You work hard, Harry, and you will continue to, so is it so wrong to treat yourself to something nice?”

“It’s not for me, though.”

“Well then, there’s the question you to need to ask yourself.” Harry looked at his mum quizzically before she responded. “Is Y/N worth it?”

Well that was a stupid question.

“Looks like Y/Ns getting her island after all.” Harry grinned so wide, feeling so happy that he was doing this for you. You deserved this so much. Yes it was a bloody huge investment and risk, if Harry was being honest with himself, but you were ridiculously worth it. So much so that he would have bought the island even if it were double that price. Harry sighed in relief and slouched back on the chair, thinking about how happy you’re going to be when you find out. Obviously there was so much paperwork and calls that needed to be made, so it was going to take some time, but to see your face at the end of this was going to be so worth it.

“Cuppa tea then?” Anne asked, slinking out of the chair and standing up.

“Yeah, go on—” The sounds of rattling keys and the front door opening broke Harry’s sentence, making him look up at his mum in panic. Time had flew by so quickly that he’d not even realised you could’ve actually been home anytime now.

Shit, you were home.

“Quick mum, help me hide all this. Wait mum, you’re going to have to sneak out the back because Y/Ns going to have too many questions otherwise!” Harry shot up from the kitchen table and started to gather bits of paper and close the laptops down. Luckily Harry was using his work laptop and Anne had brought her own so they didn’t have to worry about clearing browser history.

“What and you can’t just say you were hanging out with your ol’ mum?” Anne asked, laughing as she packed up her stuff because she knew just how demanding and stubborn her son was.

“I love you and call me when you get home safely okay?” Harry asked, chivying her out of the back door quietly and pecking her cheeks in thanks for everything she’s done for him today.

“Alright. Love you!”

Okay, act normal Harry.

“Mummy!” You heard Oli shout from the other room. You furrowed your eyebrows as you entered the house, dropping off your shoes and bags at the door before heading into the living room, where you knew you’d find the kids.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking around the room to see everything was in order. In fact, your heart melted at the sight of the siblings. Oli was sat upright against the sofa and had his baby sister laying on top of his stomach with hers, and Fix was sat just to the side of them - patting his sisters back rhythmically. It was a sight for sore eyes.

“Baby Belle just smiled.” Oli beamed brightly and you smiled back at him. Even though it was slightly irrelevant of him to shout for you because of this, you couldn’t help but awe over the fact the siblings were so loving for one another.

“Did she now?” You took out your phone to take a few pictures of them. “Smile again for mummy then, all of you.” You giggled as Fix pulled the cheesiest smile and Oli did his signature smile too - no teeth and raised eyebrows so high to the sky. You even caught a golden photo where Belle was slightly smiling too. “Are you okay in here still?”

You didn’t want to feel like you were abandoning your kids, because you would never, but you needed just a day to yourself to rejuvenate and help overcome the post-natal depression slowly. As much as you so very much loved them, it was hard for you sometimes. Belle was going to be sleeping for at least another hour, so you weren’t too worried about her. Oli and Fix were ever so sensible too, simply watching Teen Titans on Cartoon Network whilst they babysat their sister. You were only a shout away if something were to happen, which made you wonder where Harry was.

“Yes mummy.” Fix nodded his head whilst keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

“Everything all right in here?” Harry’s voice came from behind you, but you’r felt his presence a lot sooner before that. He stood behind you, peering into the room to check everything was in order.

God, you’d missed him today.

“Yeah, Oli tell daddy why you called me.”

“Baby Belle smiled daddy!” Oli retold the story just as animatedly as the first time, but keeping as still as he could so not to disturb his sister.

“Did she now? You must’ve made her happy then.” Harry slunk one of his hands around your waist and squeezed the pudge that had situated there. He absolutely loved the way you’d become curvier after giving birth. He said it gave him a bit extra of you to love on, to which you always cried at the words because he never failed to make you feel so beautiful.

“I try daddy.”

“I try too.” Felix added, obviously wanting his dad to know he wasn’t not helping in taking care of Belle.

“Good boys. Proud of you both.” They both smiled after their dads words, “Now you both behave and look after Baby Belle whilst I go make mummy a cup of tea okay?”

“But come back, daddy.” They both replied and you gave them a final warm smile, before making your way to the kitchen to make a warm, milky, beverage.

“Nice day?” Harry asked, following you into the kitchen. His hand was placed lowly on your back and guided you into the room.

“Lovely, thanks. Just missed you all.” You sighed and turned around to kiss him in the middle of the kitchen. Your lips moulded to his perfectly and he tasted so sweet, you probably so sour from your lemonade you’d had earlier.

“Miss you always.” Harry murmured against your lips and then pulled away, not before giving you and extra peck though.

You walked over to the kettle and switched it on, whilst Harry collected the mugs from the cupboard you were too small to reach. He picked out one with the letter H on and one with the letter of your first name on, knowing that you’d drink from each others letters as always.

“Been busy today?” You asked, dropping teabags into the cups and leaning against the counter side as you waited for the kettle to take its’ boil.

“Kinda.” He smirked to himself, trying to dodge that question and any others you might have about the day. “Glad you’re back home though.” He walked to you and cupped the back of your head lightly, guiding your face up to his.

“Thank you for being my home.” You smiled at your cheesy comment and then lead your lips to his again.

“You are a dream, my love.” Harry said, looking deep into the eyes he could fall in love with all over again.

Just as you were about to touch lips with his you heard the wails of your tiny daughter and sighed in sync. You chuckled as you flopped your head onto Harry’s chest. As much as you wanted to stay and soak up all the love he was about to give you, your children were a priority - especially a crying baby.

“Well, your dream will have to wait hun.” You patted his chest before walking out of the room, Harry watching you go before whispering ever-so-carefully under his breath.

“But yours won’t.”

[natsukitakama]

Fluffy alphabet (A, B, C, E, I, J, K, L, N, R, U, and W) Floch edition

Request : Could I please get fluff alphabet (season 4) Floch Forster A, B, C, E, I, J, K, L, N, R, U, and W with fem s/o please?

Author note : I’m sorry for taking so long hope you’ll enjoy this ♡

Warning : Fluffy / Spoiler from season 3 and 4 of Snk

Masterlist

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Before the Shinganshima’s event, he used to take you on a date around the city. He took advantage of his situation in the army and the fact that the survey corps were popular to go to the city. Not only he could show you off but can also act all cocky telling you story about his adventure outside the wall. He talked a lot about himself but most of the time you didn’t mind cause you were quite curious about his life as a soldier and what he saw outside the wall since you never left your « comfort » if we can say that. Now, after the Shinganshima he decided to become a Yeagarist and let’s be honest after that, much to his dismay, he doesn’t have much free time. Which mean that everytime you two could have some quality times, he spends it with you in the comfort of your house, letting you pamper him because he craves your affection. So yeah you have spent a lot of time on your house chilling around. He is very ashamed of that because he wants the best for you. He kept whispering to himself that everything is for your safety and that after reaching his goal he’ll make it up for you.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Honestly ? The way you can keep up with his shit. Floch isn’t an idiot and he knows that he can be a bother, a real dick sometimes, and the way you never were angry at him each time he was being en ass never felt to amaze him. Your calm and kind nature was something he really loves about you, the fact that he doesn’t have to be ashamed for who he is and that he can be natural around because you’ll find a way to make things right so Floch doesn’t end up having troubles. You’re his light, his arch. Now if we’re talking about physical aspect he is into your legs, there is something sexy and cute about it. The flesh, how soft it is, how they feel around his hand or against his cheeks. He is one of those leg’s simp you know ? Every aspect of your legs is attractive to him no matters if you are self-conscious about something, he loves them, deeply and won’t be afraid to put some sense into you each time you’ll say something bad about them. I’m not kidding you’ll be scolded because « your legs can hear you and they’ll feel sad » then proceeds to kiss them to reassure it that they are beautiful.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

I won’t lie he’s not in the top 3 of the best to deal with a panic attack or anything that involve him taking care of you. People might think it’s because he is being selfish as usual and wants all the attention to himself (well he kinda wants it but that’s not the real reason). To be honest he isn’t good in dealing is own insecurity, which could be seen with the way he is acting like a dick. He is not a natural dick, he is always doing it to reassure himself you know ? Like you can’t hurt me if I hurt you first. So yeah since he isn’t capable of controlling his own feelings, he is going to have a hard time dealing with your negative thought. He might even start panicking if he saw to get a huge crisis. After talking with some of his superior and his comrades from the survey corps he’ll learn one or two tricks to help you getting good and finding your breath. After some times, Floch will learn how to calm you whenever you’ll feel the need, he will also become a good reader meaning he’ll know each time you’re not feeling good. Depend on what you need to feel happy, he won’t hesitate to talk shit about his companion if it makes you laugh. It’ll take a long time but Floch would work harder to help you because he cares about you.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Mostly dominant, Floch isn’t the one to talk about his feelings or the one to follow something. I’m not saying that he got trust issues but he went through a lot and his way to cope with everything : his trauma, his fear, his nightmares, his dark thought are to be in control. He needs to be one in charge all the time. It gave him the (fake) sensation of being strong. Now he is not a dictator, if something is bothering you just tell him, I might add that he expects you to say whenever something is bothering you because he can be oblivious. In bed he might be inclined to be a switch and let you have your way with him, when it came to a relationship he kinda needs to feel like he leads, again you don’t really feel like you’re being leaded by someone it’s just the way he talks or his posture that might betray the fact that he is the dominant one. These feelings got stronger after he joined the yeagarist, since he was « close » to Eren most of them believe that he was in charge of everything with Eren so it didn’t help his need of being the leader.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

After a couple of weeks of a relationship, most of people noticed that Floch was more inclined to talk « gently » with them or at least act like he cares about their opinion. People who were close to him also underline that he tends to not be all cocky and instead was getting more and more serious. As if your relationship helped him to grow up as a man you know ? He was more aware of his environment, of his companion, his surrounding. If Erwin gives him the goal of being a good leader, you on the other around help him to be a better human in the sense that he’ll stop being mean. Well let’s be honest. It would be a hard work cause it became a part of his personality but you’re here now. As mentioned earlier, you’re kinda a light for him even more you’re like his arch, his moral guide, your job as his significant other is to tell him when he went beyond the boundaries of someone nonetheless since his attitude is something deeply written in his personality it’s a work for life.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

I’d like to say that he is not jealous at all but let’s be honest he is. Now it’s not something bad where he’ll send someone to follow you and beat up each people that share the same breath as you. But, he is kinda possessive around you and even thought he is trusting you. He can’t help but feels some dark instinct each time someone is trying to get your attention. You were supposed to be attentive to him and only him, why would you give your attention to some deep shit ? He just loves you so much you know ? Also, he is kinda aware that people talked about his back like they’re underlined the fact that you are so nice, so beautiful like you’re way out of his league. They didn’t understand what got you around Floch, to them he wasn’t that interesting and was a huge dick they pity you which bothered him. As I said before, Floch knows that he is being a dick a lot of times and well he became a little bit (a lot) insecure about your relationship and can’t help but be afraid that one day you’ll wake up and leave him for someone better than him. Someone that would provide you the love you deserve because yeah he strongly believed that he is the selfish one in the relationship which is pretty true but he is not bad for you, and has his way to show you that he loves you. You know him, and were aware that if you’re feeling like he is being an ass to you, you can tell him. So yeah maybe he’ll be clingier when you’ll face someone that Floch believe is better than him, maybe he’ll kiss you in front of them to remind them that you belong to him, maybe he’ll be mean to them but he does that because he loves you.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He is the part of those one who kiss you like it would be their last time. Maybe it’s because he is a part of the survey corps, maybe it’s because of his nightmares or his trauma but each time Floch kiss you it’s passionate, he kisses you deeply holds both of your cheeks or put a hand on your hair the other on your waist to keep you firmly against you. He might even push you against a wall so his body could be full against you, yeah he does it everytime and each time it felt like it would be your last kiss that you’ll share together. Even though he always came back to you, he can’t help but always hold you close as if you might disappear if he doesn’t do it. He is into French kiss even during your first kiss exchange he hasn’t hesitated and put his tongue against yours to taste you because he craves for it, he craves for you. You’re like a drug to him he is addicted to you.

Your first kiss didn’t feel like one, let me explain. You were dating for two weeks and much to your surprise each time you two went on a date he never tried to kiss you even thought it was written on his face that he wanted to do it. But he didn’t because he felt like you should give him the go-ahead, so he waited again and again before you finally gave him the sign he was waiting for. As he was walking you home feeling that today again you wouldn’t exchange a kiss with him except the sweet peck on his cheeks, he was about to leave you when he felt your hand around his wrist holding it. Floch didn’t much, he turned back and without a blink of an eye his lips crashed on yours. His hands naturally found their place on your neck and waist as he was deepened the kiss. It felt as if you two used to be lover because it felt natural and so good to you.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

I wish that he was a little bit more romantic but he doesn’t so as everything he does, it’s a bit blunt. Like when he met you, instantaneous he felt like attracted to you. So when he felt like everything went smoothly between you two (you’re not trying to yell at him punch his face for being mean for no reason), he asked you to go out with him. It was a date but he didn’t present it like this just in case you saw him as a friend and not a potential lover. Those dates who weren’t a date last a couple of weeks actually, each time Floch was trying something. First he brushes his hands against yours to see if you wouldn’t flinch but seeing that you moved your hands against his give him the ego boost he needed. Then, he started to put a hand on your lower back each time you would enter a shop or anything, next Floch will wrap his arm around your waist. Basically two months later you were acting like a couple without actually saying anything, whenever you got the occasion you brought him foods for his job, you would lean against him as he was putting his arm around you. Everyone was now teasing him because he didn’t have the gut to actually confess to you even though you were acting like his damn significant other.

So one night when you two were watching the stars sharing foods you brought earlier, he just holds your hands like he used to but this time, he also put his hand on your chin to move your face so you would face him. And he will just say it looking at you straight in these eyes while you were still eating your cake. You shouldn’t chuckle but you did because obviously he couldn’t wait for you to actually swallow your cake. He thought that everything was over because you were taking time but then you give him a kiss whispering to him that you felt the same so everything went fine.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Most of the time he called you heaven because you’re like heaven for him, he doesn’t call you like that just to tease you it’s also a way of reminding you that you’re helping him so much growing as a man, you’re like his shelter now that he got you by his side he can’t picture a life without you. He tends to call you sweetie or cutie just because your cheeks got warmer and you became flustered.

There’s a particular nickname that he used only when he had to leave for a long mission, those one were he wasn’t sure to be back. During times like those, he called my love he sounds cliché I know but he called you like this each time he got the kiss of your life, both of his would hold your face as he looked at you tenderly. He will remind you that he loves you and will do everything to be back to you because he can’t live without you.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He isn’t the romantic one but he isn’t the worst you know ? He is trying okay. It’s just each time he tries something to act romanticly he had to spoil it by being cocky, teasing you until you’re a mess. And when he is trying his best to bring you something, most of the time he forgot it. I can’t even count how many flowers he got spoiled because he forgot to bring it to you. But when it’s really important like your birthday, Floch will work hard to not only bring you as much as gifts as his wallet can but also to provide you the loveliest party as possible (or date if you want it to be more private). I’ll give him 6/10 like he is not the worst but he needs to work a lot on his romantic gesture.

That’s why when he wants something to be smooth, he asked everyone to give him ideas anything that might help him to please you. He mostly asks Armin because he is a genius and always seemed to think about great idea for a date, he kinda became his ally even though he’s still bitter against him ( you know about Erwin’s case).

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

As mentioned earlier, it’ll take him time to understand you, for being able to read your properly. It’s not like he isn’t empathetic but he already struggled with his own insecurity, fear and trauma so obviously he is not the best to deal with emotion, feelings being down and everything. But if Floch feels like it’s burdening you in any way, he’ll work with you cause he can’t do it on his own. He’ll always ask you to tell him when something is wrong, to at least give him a sign when you feel like something isn’t good when you feel sad, when you are depressed. He got a list of each sign you decided to use to help him getting the signal that he has to be on your side.

After a couple of panic attack/emotional crisis, Floch would become one of the best to read you and prevent any form of bad thought. Insecurity ? Gone even though he is calling you a dumbs for thinking that you are not enough you have to admit that it’s working. Fear ? He’ll kill anyone that might put a finger on you. So I’m going to give him a 7/10 he is a good but he needs help coming from you to help you properly.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

I shouldn’t say it because it was supposed to be a secret, but he stole you cloth. Not to wear it but he is stealing everything that got your scent each time he left for a mission, because he wants to have your smell/warmth with him whenever he is far away from you. It’s silly, it’s cliché and people would make fun of him if they’ll learn about it, but he can’t sleep properly for example if doesn’t have your shirt around him. He might use your t-shirt as a teddy to hold it close to him you know ? He is pretending that you are here with him and that everything is fine. He’ll mostly take your shirt/t-shirt because it’s small and convenient for him to put on his bag. He also got on his wallet a bunch of things that is supposed to remind him of you, like your favorite flower etc. What can I say ? He is a simp.

[missscarletandtheduke--tvshow]

In my mind it must have been a very sweet, very tender yet passionate kiss 😊🥰

Yeah he was like: "you are not fooling me, I can read you like a book!" (After all, it's been proven that he indeed knows her looks as good as she does his's lol). TBH, he better!!

Since season 1 I've, like I'm sure many did, tried to envision how that must have played out and I thought that maybe, just maybe, since William was young and inexperienced, he really may have tried, in a way, to take advantage of the situation (like E said, she knows him better than I do after all) in order to kiss that girl he's been swooning over for quite some time already but he being also a smart guy who gives thoughts to things, I don't believe he would have gone in for a kiss if he really didn't believe he would have "console" her in some way and that she would have been ok with it in that moment.

As we heard from Duke, Eliza must have looked at him all aching and with her eyes full of tears (similar to what had happened at Henry's funeral but apparently they were hugging!) and that pull he always feels towards Eliza must have become unbearably strong: I think he felt like he needed to do something, help her, ease her pain or distract her in some way; after all I think they knew theirs was a special relationship, so he probably went with the flow letting his feelings guide him.

I don't think he was completely wrong in his assumptions but clearly he wasn't completely right either lol. And yes please I do would love to have that scene on screen!! That one would be my third on my list!

Personally, after having re-watched all 3 seasons 254380 times, I couldn't stop wondering how their very first time meeting of each other must have come about, (presumably the first time Henry took William home?) so I'm completely OVER THE MOON now that we know we are actually gonna get just that. That comes first in my book which would be immediately followed by a bit of William's childhood, why he ended up in the workhouse, who were his parents? How did he meet HS? etc.

I think viewers need that for so many reasons, one of which is that I don't believe people truly understand where Duke and his view of the world is coming from AND, at the same time, how ABSOLUTELY EXCEPTIONAL he (his way of thinking and behaving) is. (Don't worry, I also have reserves on him and his move to... sleep and start a relationship with Arabella of all women. I think that was unforgivable, at least to me, even when I try to remember that nobody's perfect).

While reading people's comments on various platforms I noticed that, sometimes, not everyone realizes that: 1) those are people born and bread plus living in a victorian society which was very different from our own under many aspects and overall extremely unforgiving era, socially speaking and 2) William is coming from a pretty harsh, painful and complex past and childhood, a situation that many people like him have NOT been able to overcome.

If people thought about it, they would understand that makes complete sense for William to think for example that, sooner or later, Eliza would have found a man, she would get pregnant (or not) and her life would have taken the path that 99% of Victorian women ended up taking. At the same time it is also quite reasonable that William takes care (or tries to lol) of his career and maintaining his Status Quo he so incredibly hardly worked for; he would have been a total idiot if he didn't do that. What he managed to achieve is, in fact, a one in a million thing if not more, his "social climb" is was so difficult and unusual that it was made by a very low percentage of his contemporaries who, normally, never managed to redeem themselves socially, in large part because society had created mechanisms that did not allow these people to do so. Some of those who did, had something happening in their life and went back in the workhouse or living on the steps (literally) somewhere, starving to death.

BOTH Eliza AND William are the exceptions in the Victorian era, the both are that 1%.

Yes, he initially was worried about Eliza's safety and didn't think she should have been a detective. As we all know this has to do with the way people thought of women back then, like some kind of all around delicate yet unintelligible creatures which natural sfere was the procreation, the taking care of people, things and social relationship and the general assumption was that they were phisically and intellectually unable to do things that involved too much bodily but, most of all, mentally effort mainly due to their "sensitive and mutable character", starting from certain jobs or tasks and ending with murder, for example (women were rarely condemned). Victorian people also thought that society had to protect the "gentle sex" from the corrupted, hard and dirty things of the world and only a godless scoundrel would not do that. (Of course there was also the thing that men wanted to maintain the patriarchy but, at least by that point, was more or less a 50/50 thing.)

William, like any other victorian man (but not only) was raised with the belief that it was his very duty, also for the good of women (apart from men's and society in general) to protect them and ensure that they moved within the sphere that, was thought, naturally belonged to them which was very distinct from the male one (it summers up with: you have children and take care of them, the house and our social relationship while I work, I support you and protect you. It was the natural balance of the world they thought) YET he never failed to have Eliza's back while also allowing her to have all the space she could possibly have and more, and did all that despite his (initial) conviction that she would have not been in for the long run and to the detriment of his own job and social status!!! Which makes it all even more extraordinary. In reality, it would be sometimes so even today that the general mentality is different and the concrete "risks" from the male part are none; it should tell people something!

Once he understood that actually what Eliza has for investigation field is a vocation on which the happiness of her life depended on, he allowed her, a women, to work with him as equal when he didn't have to and could easily prevent that from happening even with all that perseverance and insistence from Eliza's part. Not only that, but William, intentionally, decided: "fuck it" and made that collaboration with Eliza official all the while he was in open competion with her and walking on a tightrope with his boss with a promotion at stake!!

He himself went and made sure her work was published and advertised in a widely read newspaper that he knew his superior, colleges and hundreds of thousands of Londoners would read. The most appreciated detective inspector of Scotland Yard was carrying out his investigations with the help of a woman, something that Duke himself later even said to Stirling to his face (with that very fascinating voice and accent of his lol). This is ABSOLUTELY UNHERDS OF!!!

That was something that would have left astonishing and would not sit right (to say the least) with the vast majority of the male public just like a good part of female as well. William did all that to the very probable detriment of his career and his life in a society and a time where someone without any support system like him, who grew up in a workhouse, can very easily end up back there in the blink of an eye, so much so that people say they were destined to (not Nash nor Moses, the only other man who actually cares for Eliza other then William, risk anything in their relationship with her)!!

Then there is of course also the fact that although Duke always puts up a bit of resistance here and there lol (he does that mainly because it is part of his character! *He in fact would do and indeed does the same for anything else*: first he always says no, because he feels the need to get an idea of the situation with calm, get an idea of where the thing can lead and make his own assessment before getting on board, as Henry said in 01x05, he likes to come to the conclusions himself, something that Eliza hasn't grasp it about him yet and something herself doesn't always practice ahem) BUT he's never not listening his interlocutors!

Even when he says: "no! I'm done! I'm leaving!" (especially when Eliza pressures him or pushes him too far), then he reflects on things and if he realizes that the other person, Eliza included, was right, then he's not afraid of retracing his steps and he does that without feeling the need to disguise the whole thing as practically any victorian man would.

As for putting her behind bars, it was something I didn't like him to do at first but then I gave it some thoughts and realized that Eliza risked truly a lot there, she could have waited to be accompanied by M or W himself instead of going alone. The girl was spinning around without control, he was only trying to give her some limit and make her understand she could not do whatever she wanted to without thinking that she will suffer the consequences of it.

William was honest there: he was doing it for Henry (and Eliza). He may seem harsh but he actually did it bc he cares for her. As we learned, words don't really work with Eliza. He was acting like a father, a mother or a brother or better yet indeed a good friend. Many times, including that one, he's been there taking his time to teach her valuable lessons who would come necessary to do her job.

And... he was recompensated with a beautiful view! You can see when there are those moments in which William pauses and in his mind goes: "DAMN! She really is going to kill me one of these days with how beautiful she is" 😍😍😍 LMAOOO

So sorry girl!!! This got unbelievably long!!! Omg I definitely wasn't planning on writing this much! When it comes to MSATD and williza especially, I have so many things left unsaid as I don't have the opportunity to talk about it much except here on this blog not knowing people in my life who watch it. I already wrote all that I don't have the patience nor the energy to go through it in order to make some cuts, summarize things and stuff, hope me rambling on and maybe be slightly repetitive(?) on your post (! 😯 So very rude of me omg!!! 🐴) isn't much of a bother to you @mellow-plum ♡ (if so please tell me and I'll move out my commentary :))

[OH btw I meant *over 10 (or ten) years prior (I got caught up between letters and numbers ten/10 lol.

It's too much for my lil brain apparently 🤝🏆🤓)

Obviously I also meant long *SECOND, and not minute, when I was writing abt the kiss; unless of course we don't want to believe there was a serious necking party going on there (LMAO 😂👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨)]

Haha. One of my fav scenes from S1.

When they fight over that childhood kiss or "peck" to be more precise.

Miss Scarlet and The Duke

[cherriesfineline]

Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

&

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ‘once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

&

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

&

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.

[kinatalks]

Let’s talk about DiaLuci.

Look, this isn’t a judgement call. This is merely a flat out explanation and something that should be recognized. There will be a few S2-3 spoilers, but it’s mainly vague, not going into details.

Be aware: This covers sensitive topics regarding the ship, toxic behaviors, abusive relationships, and the angel event.

Firstly, if you support DiaLuci, good for you! I’m not here to shame someone for their ships. But this fandom has a habit of attacking others who aren’t so fond of this ship. Someone can like Diavolo, and not support Dialuci. You can support Lucifer, and not like Dialuci. Or hell, you could dislike either/or both characters and fucking love the ship! No matter which character or ship you like or dislike, you are completely valid.

But this is a post, about the issues with the ship that I personally see, and why it should be more outspoken.

Now lets get to the point of the subject, shall we?

I fairly like Diavolo. He’s charming, joyous, and someone who would be the star of a party. Someone cheerful and bright. However, the way that this fandom persecutes anyone who doesn’t like Diavolo or feels uncomfortable around him is not ok.

In my opinion, Diavolo has shown signs of immature and insensitive behavior. I.e. the way he treats others like toys. Yes, he cares about them, but often doesn’t consider their feelings in things he considers ‘mere pranks.’ This may be because Barbatos constantly assures him that the future will be fine, since Barbatos can manipulate and choose timelines.

He wants the best for the people around him, but doesn’t exactly take criticism or resistance to his advances kindly. “Well duh, he’s a ruler!” So? Yes, he’s a ruler, but that doesn’t mean he should be inconsiderate about others around him. The fact that he disregards others opinions unless it fits his agenda, is a sign of his childishness.

Which means, that over time, Diavolo doesn’t hold much regard to his actions, as Barbatos is always there to catch him. Now that doesn’t mean he constantly is reckless. When it comes to official Devildom matters, Diavolo is an apt ruler, who makes decisions for the Devildom’s best interests.

The problem is, no one has told Diavolo about his less than savory behavior. Because they fear him, and fear the punishments he could inflict upon them. So I can’t really say that he’s a completely bad character.

He wants Lucifer to be his equal, and acknowledge the fact that Diavolo sees him as an equal. Diavolo’s lonely, and it’s explicitly stated as so. He envies the closeness the brothers have. So, he goes about it in the only way he knows how. Which we’ll get to a bit later.

As for Lucifer, I can’t deny I’m quite fond of him. He does his best to overcome his pride for MC, and gradually (in S2-3), he becomes more open with his feelings. Yes, he’s a deeply flawed character, but he’s not a complete villain. The world simply isn’t as black and white as some would like it to be.

Yes, his relationship with some of his brothers is toxic. The way he treats Mammon at times is unacceptable, and possibly abusive in my opinion. The fact that he acts cold and distant to his brothers at times isn’t ok. But one thing I’ve seen others overlook, is that Lucifer is the Avatar of Pride. Does this excuse his actions? No. Does it explain some of his habits? Yes.

Don’t get me wrong, he still has a lot to work on. But he’s getting there, and actively trying to get better.

Now for the ship.

You do not need to like a ship, just because a character from that ship is constantly seen with the partner. Like I’ve said above, you can hate or love Diavolo or Lucifer, and dislike/like the ship.

As for the oath, I won’t delve too deep into this, as it would take essays upon essays worth of information. But we all know that, Diavolo had given Lucifer an ultimatum. Save Lilith, at the cost of Lucifer’s unquestionable loyalty.

Which as we’ve seen, Lucifer had agreed to the terms. And so, he is now Diavolo’s most trusted advisor, his right hand man.

Even though Diavolo says or implies that he sees Lucifer as an equal. He doesn’t always seem to show it. The power imbalance in between both characters is evident, throughout the plot of the story. If Lucifer denies Diavolo’s advances, Diavolo will continue. Why?

Well, you could argue that his behavior is due to him being royalty. Which is true, he’s royalty, and has never been told no. Barbatos has always been there, fixing his mess, so why would he need to worry?

Diavolo praises Lucifer, in a manner that is clearly uncomfortable to the latter. It’s evident that Lucifer despises being praised for his beauty, and just his looks. I’ve seen blogs see it as ‘just a joke’ or ‘being playful’. But time and time again, Lucifer has denied these advances, very obviously disliking the attention and focus on his looks.

But Diavolo continues, and in his defense, you could say, ‘because Lucifer doesn’t say that he’s uncomfortable!’. It’s very obvious that Lucifer isn’t an equal to Diavolo, no matter how much the latter insists he is. We’ve seen Diavolo brush off other’s discomfort at his actions, and we’ve seen him continue.

Diavolo is not evil. This is quite clear, even though he may be suspicious to some. However, his relationship tactics and methods of relationships have toxic, and quite possibly abusive effects.

For example. The angel event.

We all know, that the bangles controlled the 7 avatars, turning them all into angels. Their outfits, and minds, were taken over. The brothers, (excluding Satan.) had gone through traumatic events in these outfits, that’s for sure.

The celestial war, and losing Lilith, all were incredibly traumatizing events forever affecting their mindsets from that day forward. The bangles attempted to brain wash them, and we can see it when Satan states that he doesn’t feel like himself, that he felt calm.

But you might think, “But being calm is great! Isn’t that what he always wantd?’. Not quite.. All Satan had known before was wrath, and being calm completely took away an important part of him. Even though Satan had always resented his wrath, his sin, he had felt like a part of himself was miserable without it. He wasn’t himself, and felt as if he were being forced to be calm, something he loathes.

In all of the brothers, we can see that they are clearly distressed, and may come out of this situation traumatized. 

Lucifer is no exception. We saw how visibly upset he was, the fact that the snow-white wings on his back gave him a constant reminder of the war and Lilith, throughout the entire ordeal.

What was Diavolo doing this entire time? He was being provided entertainment, and reveled the sight before him. He enjoyed seeing the brothers in their angelic uniforms, where they had fought with tooth and nail for their sister, and who knows what else. He enjoyed the fact that the brothers were having angelic ideals forced inside their heads.

And when someone speaks up against him? He’s passive aggressive about it, until the person opposing him gives up, begs for forgiveness, or embarrasses themselves.

While criticism of any of the characters is deemed valid and peachy in this fandom. I haven’t seen any criticism of Diavolo that wasn’t met with backlash and intense hounding. Lucifer, Satan, Belphegor, have all been criticized, but has the majority really deemed those opinions as invalid? No. We can all see why those arguments are valid, and people have their own reasons.

Hell, we’ve all seen people Lucifer left and right. And you know what? They’re completely valid! Some people may have triggers/squicks in regards to his behavior, and it’s completely understandable.

But the moment someone criticized Diavolo, we see fighting and targeting. The person who speaks up gets pushed down and insulted, until they either give up, or agree. If you like Diavolo, good for you, you’re valid! If you don’t, you’re completely valid!

Now back to the ship. Apologies for getting off topic, but oftentimes, when Diavolo and Lucifer are mentioned separately, they’re roped together.

Abusive/toxic relationships aren’t always one where the abusive/toxic partner is an outright terrible person. Oftentimes, they come with charm, a dazzling smile, and friends that would fight tooth and nail for them.

Diavolo has Lucifer in an....uncomfortable position to say the least. In power dynamics, that is. Lucifer is constantly embarrassed publicly and privately by compliments, and Diavolo knows this. He’s demeaned by the oath, and as for work, Diavolo often adds to it, just for fun. I.e, leaving the Devildom to come to the human world, leaving his responsibilities behind.

“But he’s lonely!” Yes, and? He is lonely, yes, but there is a time and place for fun, and time and place for work. He is going to become a King, and if he puts all this responsibility and stress on Lucifer, it simply isn’t right.

They have their good moments, but that absolutely does not make up for the state of the relationship as a whole. Just because someone has their good moments, doesn’t mean you accept and forgive them. That’s like saying that someone who physically abuses their S/O, is a good partner because they occasionally make them dinner. It simply isn’t correct.

Majority of the time, Diavolo is fine with Lucifer being reduced to a pretty face and belittled. In public, which very clearly hurts Lucifer’s pride and reputation.

Many people can resonate with some of these behaviors, having seen them in their past.

So please. Tag your works as DiaLuci for others uncomfortable with it, stop attacking others who dislike the ship, and for fucks sake, enough with hating people who dislike a character and/or ship.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 17 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Spencer is concerned about Reader’s growing impulsiveness, but Reader is the one who gets a call from JJ asking if she can come get her boyfriend. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader 
 Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) 
 Content Warning: Discussions of drugs, death/dying, suicide, overdose; Alcohol, addiction, oral (male receiving), handjob, fingering, Daddy Kink, fights, PTSD, hospital talk, drunk smut w/ blanket consent Word Count: 12.5k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

When I opened the front door, I realized that I had returned to an empty home. I wasn’t sure which was weirder; the realization that the house was empty, or the fact that I was referring to her apartment as my home. It certainly had started to feel that way.

It never stopped being a shock that I would find a home in someone so quickly and with such little self-awareness. I'd certainly never suspected   that the house we’d be in would also be shared with several other people, all of whom were significantly younger than me and shared almost no similarities with me beyond our love for (y/n).

And even if it wasn’t the weirder of the two realizations, the fact that she wasn’t there was definitely the more troubling one. I tried to gather at least a little evidence before I called her; I wasn’t exactly excited about being blindsided again. Judging by the red solo cups that were scattered in the kitchen, I had an idea of how her friends had spent the night. The fact that no one was here led me to another conclusion that I desperately hoped was inaccurate.

Her phone rang four times before she picked up, which was strange in itself. When she did pick up, she sounded like I expected her to. Tired. Groggy.

“Hello?”

“Hey little girl, where are you?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the fumbling of my keys in my pocket, or any other sign of just how anxious I’d gotten in the last three minutes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spencer, I forgot I was supposed to see you today.” She mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic if not a little confused.

“You… forgot?” I repeated, quickly making my way over to the calendar hung on a bulletin board outside the kitchen, noting the nothingness over both the current and following week.

“Yeah, I guess I got carried away with school.”

She was lying. I couldn’t be for sure about what, but it was obvious. If she was really having that much trouble with classes, she would have told me. We’d gotten past the whole insecurity over me thinking she was stupid thing a long time ago, and she knew I would always let her learn it on her own if she didn’t want my help.

“... What are you not telling me?” I tried to make the words playful, although my hand was now nervously patting the side of my hip at an alarming rate.

“Nothing! I just got distracted. I’m... a little busy today so we should just meet up again next weekend.”

“A week?” I knew she was probably getting tired of me parroting her words, but that just seemed like a ludicrous amount of time. Usually, we went barely a day or two without seeing each other when I was in the city, cherishing the time together when I wasn't called away to attend to crimes halfway across the country.  

“What’s going on?” My voice was quickly falling into that register that warned her I was about to start profiling her, whether I wanted to or not. And unfortunately, she chose the worst possible reaction to that warning, further tipping me off to the fact that something wasn't quite right.

“Spencer, stop being weird.”

But I wasn’t. I knew that I could be weird; it’s kind of my thing. If you looked up weird in the dictionary, you wouldn’t find my name, but you’d definitely find a description that perfectly characterized my personality.

“You’re the one being weird. Turn on your camera.”

“I can’t. It’s dark in here.” She shot back her answer so quickly, I knew that she had already anticipated the request.

“Then move.” I ordered more than suggested. She understandably didn’t take kindly to my reaction, but I know she also knew why I was doing it. The excuses she was giving weren’t even well thought out.

“What is this? An interrogation?” She scoffed, “Do you think I’m cheating on you with barely dissolved stitches in my intestines?”

I took a deep breath, sitting down at the kitchen table still sticky with leftover sugary liquor and turned the phone onto speaker. “Turn it on.” This time, my voice broke with the order. As much as that didn’t make it sound authoritative, it did make her feel guilty.

As the screen lit up, it all made sense in the worst possible way. She was forcing a fake smile, her other hand resting against her face in a failed attempt to draw attention away from the the mottled skin of her left eye.

“I’m not cheating on you. Happy?” The words were sharp on her tongue, an anger in her features paired well with the understanding that I wasn’t wrong to be worried. I honestly think that was what bothered her the most – that she wanted it to be nothing, for me to be overreacting, but knew that it was a little more serious that she let on.  

“I’m definitely not happy. What happened?” I was already at the door by the time the sentence ended... She shut off her camera just as quickly, hearing the commotion from my side. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

She sighed, and I could see it clearly despite the fact that she wasn’t on my screen anymore. “I don’t want you to come here. Spencer, I’m fine.”

I might have believed her. I might have honestly given her the benefit of the doubt – let her lie to me a little, and just accept that a black eye wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. Eventually, she would tell me how she got it, so I wouldn’t need to worry about it.

But it became very obvious very quickly that it was not just a black eye.

“Ms. (Y/l/n)?” A third voice announced in the background, accompanied by the distinct sound of an alarm sounding in the distance.

“... Are you in a hospital?!”

“For fucks sake. I hate dating a profiler.” She grumbled, implicitly admitting that my conclusion was right. She wouldn’t let me have another word, speedily slurring her goodbye. “I have to go, Spencer. I’ll call you later. Love you!”

—————————————————

Anyone who has spent a long time in inpatient knows that nosy nurses are both the best and worst kind of people to be assigned to your stay. They were the best because they always had the best gossip and would spend their precious little free time sharing stories about their lives that were always more entertaining than whatever poorly budgeted gameshow was on the old, staticky television.

They were the worst because one wrong move meant that you were the subject of gossip. And boy, were they good at getting it out of you.

“Trouble in paradise?” She sweetly hummed as she pushed my bed down the hall.

I wanted to tell her that there was trouble, and that it was through no fault of my own. If the other people in the hospital didn’t have the audacity to be sick at the same time that I needed a CT scan, then I wouldn’t have even still been here. I could have been back at home, where… well, I guess Spencer would have figured it out either way.

“Yeah, I guess.” I sadly admitted, playing with the string of my gown. “He’s just a worrywart.”

The woman had that glimmer in her eye, the kind that came from years of seeing the same stories over and over again. Although, I had a hard time believing she’d ever been in this exact scenario, I guess they were all kind of the same after a while, semantics aside.

“Well, that makes sense considering your current state.” It was more of a reprimand than anything else, and I audibly groaned to try and get her to stop there. She didn’t, though, having spent enough time with me to know I needed to hear it. “You were very lucky, you know. If things had been even just a little bit different…”

Couldn’t you say that about everything? If things had been even just a little bit different, I never would have met Spencer in the first place. We never would have fallen in love or fought or done any of it at all.

I didn’t like thinking about that. I didn’t like even considering a life without Spencer. No matter how much pain I’d been through, or what traumatic memories were dug up, they were worth it.

That’s what she wanted me to realize, and she had succeeded. Suddenly, as we turned into the room, I was overcome with guilt at the way I’d ended my conversation with him.

The nurse knew it, too, because as she transferred me onto the scanner, she smiled. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. If he woke up next to your hospital bed last time, I understand why he’d be scared.”

Chewing on my lips, I thought about the last time I was in a hospital. I thought about how Spencer had curled his giant lanky body onto the bed and barely slept for 2 weeks. I could see the way his eyes got more sunken by the day, but never stopped shining with relief. I could hear him chewing on ice because he didn’t want to leave to grab food until after I’d woken up, and the cold would distract him from just how hungry he was.

“He must love you an awful lot to be that worried.”

I hated when they did that; when they read my mind and said exactly what I was thinking.

“Yeah, I know.” I tried to smile. It was hard with the stabbing pain in my stomach and the aching in the entire left side of my face, but I managed. It was just one of those things where if I thought of Spencer, my body had to react. It was as natural as breathing.

Which, speaking of…

“Take a deep breath in.” The technician alerted me from the speaker.

The high pitched whines of the CT scanner weren’t as obnoxious as the MRI machine. I was silently grateful that they were still too scared to use the giant magnet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be stuck in a confined space, listening to loud banging that sounded too much like gun shots for my comfort.

Even just the thought made me nauseous. I felt like a baby, to have such a strong reaction to something so stupid. I’d been in an MRI before. I was a in a hospital. Nothing bad was going to happen to me, and I knew that.

But even now, in a machine that made virtually no noise and barely covered half my body, I wasn’t able to hold in a breath. Each time I tried, it felt like I was choking on Spencer’s lap again. The stinging in my stomach felt so much stronger, even though I knew it was healed.

The world felt like it was closing in on me, and every second that passed felt like days. I couldn’t even trust myself to guess how long it took for them to get images that should have taken no longer than 5 minutes.

I felt like such a burden. Like I was in their way. Like I was doing it wrong. Like I was a little kid, thinking that she knew what she was doing and could do it on her own.

I wanted Spencer.

That was the only thing I could think, and although it should have been comforting, it just left me feeling empty. The thought of him wasn’t enough to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. The hands of the nurses trying to calm me down didn’t help, either. They felt wrong. They felt cold.

I just wanted Spencer. I wanted him to be there to hold my hand and distract me from my own thoughts. I wanted him to replace them with other things, like he'd promised me. I wanted to make new memories far away from here.

But I couldn’t. I was an idiot and I’d gotten myself back in the hospital, and he wasn’t here because I told him I didn’t want him to be. Why had I told him that? There was no reason that made any sense.

Once we finally did get out of the damn radiology department, I could still only barely function. The ride back to my room was much quieter, and the nurse didn’t meddle anymore. Gossip was only fun when it didn’t hurt like this.

Again, I couldn’t trust myself to guess how long I’d been in the CT scanner, but as we crossed back into my room, an overwhelming sensation of relief washed over me when I saw his satchel in the seat beside my bed. I hated the knowledge that I’d wasted 45 minutes of the technician’s time, but I was just so fucking happy that he had actually come.

Being alone in my room wasn’t a big deal anymore, because I knew it was only temporary. So as soon as I could, I sat up and waited patiently for my favorite mop of curly brown hair to peek around the corner.

He didn’t disappoint. He rarely did.

“Hey little girl.”

All the tension melted from my muscles, my head finally resting against the pillow with a dopey smile on my face. “Spencer.” I sighed, holding my hand out to him to usher him closer.

He gladly took the invitation, taking wide steps so he could be with me sooner.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I grumbled, flicking him on the arm while I locked our hands together. “But I’m glad you are.”

It was obvious from the way he let out a deep breath that he was also relieved to see that I wasn’t angry at him for coming. However, that’s also where his relief stopped. Because he’d seen me an hour prior and knew that I hadn't been crying then. But now, on top of the black eye, he saw the red rimming my sclera.

Taking my hand into both of his, he pressed a hard kiss against the back of it. Without looking up, he muttered into the skin a sad plea.

“Talk to me.”

“About what?” I asked, pulling back on my hand so he would stop with the shameless display of romance in such an awful place.

“Whatever’s going on.” He paused, but was clearly unhappy with the open ended question, and just as quickly specified, “What happened last night?

Unfortunately, I still wasn’t in the giving mood, even when it was information, and even if the person begging me for it was the boyfriend that I’d just cried for in the CT Scanner. If anything, that almost made it worse.

I hated feeling like this. Vulnerable.

“Nothing.”

Spencer was getting fed up, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself from fighting with him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell him that I needed him to take care of me and ask him to hold me while I cried on his shoulder about nothing at all, but I couldn’t. He would do it in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t ask him to. I couldn’t ask him for anything.

I couldn’t need anything without feeling too horribly guilty.

“Please don’t lie to me.” He was begging again, looking up at me with those impossibly warm amber eyes. He smiled when he saw the way my lips curled at the sight of him, unable to be angry for too long.

“Am I not allowed to have any stories for myself?” I joked, reaching forward to poke his face. Instead of moving away to avoid my hand, he leaned into the touch.

“You can. I just...”

“I know. You’re worried.” I responded with an exasperated sigh, rolling my head back. I could still feel him watching me, though, with a precarious smile, happy to see my spirits relatively high while also being deeply unhappy about the circumstances.

Wanting to see that full, confident smile again, I realized I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m sure that whatever he’d come up with in his head was much more sinister than what had actually happened.

“Fine. Stop looking at me like that.” I mumbled, gesturing to the childlike pout and laughing when he sucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to follow my direction. I was glad he was still in a joking mood, because I had a feeling it would disappear as soon as I started talking.

I took a deep breath, looking up and away before I began my explanation of the stupidest night.

“I went out for drinks with my friends–”

“Drinks?!”

It hadn’t even been five seconds and he’d already cut me off. I couldn’t blame him, but it was so freaking annoying. This was exactly why I hadn't told him. Well, that and the fact he could get in serious trouble.

“I didn’t have any! Geez. Chill out.” I yelled back, chuckling a little bit at the conflicting looks of terror and relief. Because while he obviously believed that I didn’t drink any myself, it gave ugly context to the nightmarish guesses his mind had concocted.

“And everything was fine. We were on our way home. But then some asshole started messing with my friend. And she was way too drunk and started crying.” I was groaning internally the whole time, thinking about all the different ways this whole situation could have been avoided. Honestly, I don’t know why she had decided to try and square up with a cat caller when she knew damn well that she would start crying the second he raised his voice.

Which, of course, he had.  

“So, I told the guy to fuck off. And he did not like it.”

There was a powerful rage boiling under the surface of Spencer’s skin, which was only betrayed by his clenched jaw and the sheets scrunched under his hand. “Did they arrest him?” He said, trying to calm the trembling in his voice. He wasn’t angry at me for being a victim, even if he was probably a little annoyed that I went out without telling him.

Not like he was even in the state, anyway.

“I didn’t press charges.”

He took a deep breath, clearly about to tell me that I was stupid for not holding him accountable. That I could’ve gotten hurt and he would’ve gotten away with it. That I could’ve died if he’d hurt me the wrong way.

I didn’t want to hear it.

“Stop. I didn’t want to go to court, and I’m fine. I didn’t even need invasive surgery again.”

Spencer was still angry but trying to settle himself down before he spoke. He could hardly even look at me, his hand leaving the bed to run through his hair and shake his keys in his pockets.

I wanted to tell him that the tension of silence was worse than if he’d just raised his voice at me, but I couldn’t even gather the energy to do that. My body and mind seemed resigned to their current state; they’d just given up.

“(Y/n)...” He started, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the use of my name. They didn’t retreat, especially not when he dragged a chair over to my bedside, sitting down and placing a gentle hand over mine again.

“Are you okay?”

It was so sincere. So pure, so unforgivably kind. My hand that had felt paralyzed seconds earlier twitched under his. “I just told you.” I shrugged, fighting the urge to pull my arm away again. I wanted him here. I wanted him to touch me.

So why did it hurt? Why did everything hurt?

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” His voice broke, and I saw the way he was holding back tears with his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He was biting back so many things he didn’t want me to know.

But again, I was too tired to fight it. So instead, I said nothing.

“It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re hurting.” He continued, urging me to give him anything to work with. “How can I make it better?”

He just wanted to help. Why couldn’t I let him help?

“I’m fine. Nothing even happened to me.” My throat tried to reject the words, my brain screaming at me that they were fundamentally untrue. But my heart hurt, pounding louder in my chest to tell me that the logic was wrong. Because I was a big girl, and I shouldn’t be scared by things that already happened.

I’m safe, right? I don’t need to be scared, right?

Spencer could see the panic on my face because I couldn’t even have hid it if I'd wanted to. And my brain was telling me to not to. It told me that I needed to talk to him, to let him listen.

“That’s not true. You’ve been through a lot.” He bargained, trying to locate that little voice in my head with his offerings. He wanted to pull that small part of me out and force it to talk so that we might finally be able to start to move on.

“You go through worse every day.”

‘It’s common for patients suffering from PTSD to minimize their suffering or compare it to others. It’s a completely normal response, but I want you to try to resist belittling your own feelings. They’re yours, and no one else’s. Okay, sweetheart?’

The voice was so clear in my head, my body jerked in response. I looked around the room, looking for any sign of the man who’d told me them first. But he wasn’t here; he hadn’t been here for some time.

“Do you know how many profilers I’ve seen leave in my time at the bureau?” Spencer distracted me from the thought. He probably figured my flashbacks were more sinister than what they actually were. As upsetting as they had once been, hearing my dad’s voice in my head was usually oddly soothing.

“No.” I answered blankly, trying to pay all attention to the man who was still here.

“Four. And I’ve considered it myself.” There was a soft chuckle to hide the guilt in the admission.

I didn’t know why he felt bad for it; his job was so ridiculously difficult. On top of constantly having to rearrange his life on account of the various inextinguishable evils in the world, he had to face those evils every day and try to figure out their inner workings in order to thwart them. The only time I'd ever done that, I'd killed all three of them. Not the best track record.

“The first one, she... she reminds me a lot of you.” The soft twinkling in his eyes, much like emotional music in the movies, alerted me that a backstory was coming. Based on the extent of just how nostalgic he was coming, I guessed that whatever he was about to say was deeply important to him.

However, I was fragile enough as it was, and I didn’t need to add jealousy to my current emotional repertoire. “Is this another JJ origin story? Cause I don’t think I can handle it.”

He laughed, shaking his head at the frustrated pout that formed on my face. “No,” He said quietly, taking a pregnant pause to formulate the story. “Her name was Elle.”

The story he told was woven well, although I expected no less. He told it passionately and with absolute sincerity. He told me about the woman who was one of the first people he'd bonded with on the team. The playful relationship he described was painted so vividly in my imagination.

I wanted to meet her. But by the end of the story, it was obvious that it wasn’t an option. He didn’t say anything about it, but from the far off look I could guess that he hadn’t seen her since that last day.

“She was like a sister to me, and to see her fall apart and not be able to do anything to help her... it was one of the worst feelings in the world.”

And I understood then, why he was worried about me the way he was. He was projecting his previous experience on me, but things were different with me. At least, that’s what I told myself. Realistically I should have been reminding myself that she'd had the training and resources to overcome her obstacles, whereas I was basically still a stupid kid. The prospect of facing the reality was too difficult though; I just shrugged it off.

“Well, I already killed the people who did this to me.” I chuckled.

Spencer did not appreciate my humor. There was an even stronger concern that flashed over his features, worried by my flippancy over the death of three human beings.

Fuck, I should feel worse about it than I do, shouldn’t I? But if I thought about it, then it hurt so badly. If I had to pick one, I would pick apathy every time. I would choose the emptiness before the ocean of remorse.

“I’m not worried about them.”

I had drifted away from him again, and the sentence forced me to look at him.

‘I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.’

I’d said that before. Those were my words.

I pulled my hand back from Spencer, rubbing my forehead with both hands before wincing at the sharp pain around my eye socket. It took me a minute to focus on the sentence and dive deeper into its implications. But once I remembered why it instilled such a visceral reaction, I nearly gagged on the words.

“Wait, you think I’m going to kill myself?”

“I didn’t say that.” He quickly responded in the most defensive manner possible. If that was his attempt to calm me down, it did not work. It only pissed me off even more.

Because there was only one reason why he would think I was going to kill myself. I hadn’t given him any reason to believe that was a risk. Yeah, sure, I was being reckless and impulsive, but I was a teenager!

“Why would you think that?” I demanded an answer, and he was immediately hesitant to provide one. It was all the evidence I needed to reach my conclusion. “Don’t lie to me, Spencer Reid. You asked Hotch, didn’t you?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair now that it was obvious, I wasn’t going to want him to touch me. “Yeah, I did.”

“You told me you wouldn’t, Spencer! You promised!” I ground the words out between my teeth, hoping he understood just how much I was holding back my volume.

He looked over at the screen monitoring my heart, noting the way the spikes appeared at an exponentially faster rate. “I know.” He whispered with an evident guilt.

“What did he tell you?” I hated the way my voice shrank with my shoulders, my body insisting that I assume to the smallest position I could. Because as much as I hated that Spencer had asked when he told me he wouldn’t, I was desperate for the information.

I’d always wanted to see the files, to hear the story as they knew it. I wanted to know what happened, and this was probably the closest I’d ever come to that, unless that whole Ouija board thing is real.

“Probably the same stuff that you already know.” He knew he was disappointing me. He shouldn’t have felt as bad about that as he did, but I’d take the implicit apology for what it was.

“Tell me anyway.”

Spencer should have been delighted to have the opportunity to talk at me for such a long time, but I also understood why he wasn’t. They weren’t the best topics of conversation, your ex-best friend and your girlfriend’s dead father. But he was a trooper and a skilled conversationalist, despite people not being able to understand that.

“He told me that there were several missions your father was a part of that ended controversially. That… he reported several violations that were never followed through on.”

The words so easily unlocked memories I had tightly and resolutely locked away, it was unsettling. I could hear my parents arguing about the philosophy of blame and responsibility. My dad always arguing that he couldn’t stand aside and let innocent people get hurt. My mom reminding him that he couldn’t save everyone.

‘We also get to see a lot of good.’ Spencer had said on our first not-a-date.

‘Yeah, but which do you see more of?’ I’d asked, and he’d avoided the question. I remembered seeing the question dance across his vision before he shut it out. He'd wondered why I was so confident in my conclusions.

“And the last mission…”

He didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“I saw the report.”

My breath was knocked from my lungs by an invisible fist to my damaged gut. I swallowed, trying to regulate my heart that was at risk of setting off the damn machine next to me. “What did it say?” I whispered, clutching onto the sheets and my gown, hoping it would be enough to keep me grounded.  

“Killed in action.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” I barked, my brows furrowing regardless of just how badly it hurt to contort my face so badly.  “He didn’t– H-He wasn’t–“

“I know.” Spencer responded, a note of pity in his voice that made my face twitch in annoyance.

I turned to him with the same snarl, years of repressed anger resurfacing and wreaking even more havoc on my already destroyed life. “Do you? Do you know?”

“I mean, I can’t ever know for sure but… You weren’t the only one who felt that he...” He couldn’t say the word suicide, and for once, I was grateful. “It seems like all of his team had the same concerns.”

He was trying so hard to calm me down, to placate my fears and rage. He was sympathizing the best he could, but the truth was he would never be able to understand just how fucked up it was. He hadn't been there when it was happening, so the only thing he could do was try to slap a band-aid on a well-settled scar and hope that my not being able to see it made it hurt less.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered the two words cautiously, his heartbreak clear in his eyes. He had nothing to apologize for, but there he was, doing it anyway.

“For what?”

“That you’ll never have your answer.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but his answer took me by surprise. Of all the explanations I’d heard after an unnecessary platitudinous apology, I’d never heard that. And even worse, I’d never heard it in such a broken way, sounding for all the world like he believed he'd failed tremendously.

“I’m sorry that... that I couldn’t find it for you.”

I couldn’t stand the sight, and my hand found his cheek like it did so often, returning home to find that it was just a bit more stubbly than I remembered it. “It’s not your job, Spencer. We’re not one of your cases.” I assured him, running my thumb over the rough skin and remembering that he’d only just gotten home from exactly that: a case.

He did so much for me every day, but in the past few months he’d had to do so much more. And as much as I tried not to, I took him for granted so often. It was never as obvious to me as it was in that moment, when a tear slid down his cheek at the tenderness of my touch.  He always expected anger and pain. I didn’t want him to feel that way with me.

“But thank you for trying. I appreciate you.” I tried to throw my soul into the words as they formed on my tongue, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. “I love you very much.”

“I love you, too.” He sighed into the small embrace, leaning his weight more heavily into my hand. Still holding back, he grimaced at the words he shared. “If I’m going to be honest, I looked something else up myself. Not on any FBI database just... old school research”

I wanted to act surprised, but it was the least shocking thing I’d heard in a while. So instead I just stared at him, with the closest I could come to boredom while still being interested in what he had to say.

“Yeah? What’d you find?” Finally settling into the inevitable resignation, I moved my hand up the side of his face to tangle in his hair. It was so soft despite not having been washed for a few days. I could tell he hadn’t slept much. I wondered why he'd bothered digging into my past in the precious little free time he had.

But then he said it, reminding me of the pain of the cemetery and the events that both preceded and followed it.

“Trent Loughton.”

My fingers stopped in their exploration of his curls for a second, but eventually continued. “I see.” I hummed, trying not to push the conversation any further than he wanted to take it. As emotional as the topic was for me, it must have been harder for him. After all, he was the one who shared the nasty habit with Trent.

“I-I saw how he died... and I think I can fill in the rest myself.”

“Mrs. Loughton did give a lot of clues.” I laughed, mostly to stop myself from crying. That woman didn’t deserve any more of my tears. It was because of her that I’d spent years trying to convince myself that Trent’s death wasn’t my fault. Deep down, a part of me still believed her.

But honestly, it wasn’t my opinion that really mattered to me. It was Spencer’s. If he thought I was a failure, or that it was my fault for what happened, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to move past it. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to move past it.

“The drugs he overdosed on... they weren’t yours.”

Relief washed over me, but my mind told me not to get too comfortable, yet. “No, they weren’t.” My body had such a strange reaction to the words being said without an argument. I didn’t need to convince Spencer; he already knew. He not only believed me – he had come to the conclusion himself.  

“So why did you say they were?”

It was such an easy answer, I knew he had to know it already. His hesitance to come to conclusions on my behalf, while appreciated, wasn’t necessary in this situation. “Pretty little girl with no record and a batshit war hero dad stood a better chance in the criminal justice system. I didn’t ask my dad to protect me, but he did.”

Spencer clearly sympathized with my father more so than me in that moment, which made my heart flutter in a remarkably inappropriate manner. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that those damn psychologists were right – We really do sometimes pick men that remind us of our fathers.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Spencer said under his breath, and I wondered which one he was even talking about. It honestly could have applied to my whole life. He would have meant it each time, too. Because to him I couldn’t do anything wrong. I tried to take solace in that, but it honestly caused another voice to creep into the back of my mind.

I’d never be as good as he saw me. I’d never be worthy of his love.

Shoving those anxieties away again, I nodded in solemn recognition of the years I spent working to come to that same conclusion. “I know. It just took me a while to figure it out.”

My hand finally fell away from his face, although he grabbed my wrist to stop it from going too far. There was another hesitancy in his body language. His face turned down and his leg bouncing so gently I almost missed it.

“Is he the one you were talking about? The one you loved?”

Ah, nothing like a subtle hint of jealousy to boost a girl’s ego. I chuckled at the sound, swaying a bit in place to let him suffer a millisecond longer. “No. Not exactly.”

But then I genuinely couldn’t figure out how to say it. How could I describe what we had shared, when I'd spent so long trying to forget it? Had I loved him? Probably. No, I'd definitely loved him, just not in the way Spencer was thinking. Not like I loved Spencer.

“It was like, he always liked me, and I always thought we’d end up together because that’s how it happens in the movies, right? I was supposed to fall in love with him.” I ranted, trying to move my hands that were currently wrapped up in Spencer’s. “But I didn’t, and then he was gone and...”

We both stopped, his eyes trailing after me with questions he didn’t voice yet. He wanted me to finish before he decided whether or not they were worth it. I wanted to explain to him that they weren’t. As important as Trent was to me, he was gone.

“It’s fine. I’m sure he would be glad I found someone who makes me happy.” I was confident in that, at least. Because as I stared into those big hazel eyes, forcing themselves to stay open just to listen to me talk about my life, I was glad, too. “Even if that someone snoops too much for his own good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There were many reasons, most of which I didn’t want to go into. But the way he was looking at me shattered my heart into a million pieces, and I knew that if I lied to him now, it would only make it harder to put those parts back together.

He just wanted to help. I knew I should let him help.

“I didn’t want to think about it.” I admitted for the first time out loud. “I didn’t want to consider all the similarities. I didn’t want you to think I was just looking for a man to replace the ones I’ve lost.”

I couldn’t tell when I started to cry, but it was even more exhausting and painful than normal. Which is why I didn’t hesitate to accept Spencer’s offer when he stood up, wrapping his arms around me just tightly enough that it wouldn’t hurt.  

“I didn’t want to lose you, too.” I whined, the comforting scent of his cologne filling my lungs and reminding me of all the beautiful moments we’d shared so far. We had so many more to go.

“You won’t lose me. I’m here to stay.” He said, reading my mind like he always did.

“I know.” I started to laugh, but this time it wasn’t held back by secrets. ���You’d think a girl could lose you by getting in a bar fight an hour away and going to an unnamed hospital but nooo...”

He laughed too, although his was much more reserved. Spoilsport.

Spencer’s arms tightened around me briefly, holding me closer to him before he backed away, his hands finding home on my cheeks. I anticipated a kiss, which was usually what happened when he held me like that. But he didn’t kiss me, instead giving me a gentle instruction.

“(Y/n), look at me.”

My eyes, bruised and dry, still opened at his command.

“No jokes. No lies.” He asked, clearly enunciating each word. “Should I be worried about you?”

All I could hear was the sound of my heart and the humming of the machines. I was brought back to the CT scanner, the way it felt to be choking on air. Flashes of other men I loved were racing through my mind. I couldn’t save them, I remembered, before my eyes landed back on Spencer.

My stomach twisted at the memory of a wooden box, a check, and suddenly all I smelled was the pine of the forest.

“(Y/n)?” He asked again, although I saw he’d already received half of the answer.

“No. I’m fine.”

The most terrifying part about it was that I believed what I said, but the look on Spencer’s face told me that I was lying. And I believed that, too.

—————————————————

The thing about coming back from a gunshot wound to the stomach is that it takes a ridiculously annoying amount of time. Like, yeah, the pain is something awful, but the wait for things to return to normal was even worse.

I didn’t even know how long it’d been, my brain blocking out anything that reminded me of that day. If I ever really needed to know, Spencer could tell me. I was basically only keeping track of the days by deadlines for school and the dwindling prescriptions I had left.

My follow-up appointment was next week, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Spencer told me he would come with me, but I hadn’t really heard from him in a couple of days. He didn’t even have time to tell me about the case, although I could tell it was one of the “bad” ones – not that there were really any “good” ones.

But still, it was almost 11pm and I was about to go to sleep, but I wanted to wait a little bit longer before I called it a night. I was just hoping that I’d be able to talk to him, even if it was just to say goodnight. I missed his voice like crazy.

So when my phone lit up, I didn’t even look at the caller ID. There weren’t many people who would call me this late on a Friday – my friends were all already out for the night.

“Hello?” I sang into the receiver, already excitedly spinning around in my chair.

But the voice that responded was decidedly not Spencer.

“Hey, (y/n), right? It’s JJ.”

Her voice rang like a record scratch through my head, and I halted in my chair. “Oh, hey JJ... Why are you calling me?” Suddenly, my enthusiasm morphed into an overwhelming anxiety and darkness that threatened to crush everything in its path. “I-Is everything alright?”

But then I heard it. The sound of terrible music, loud laughter, and the general bustle of a restaurant. It was followed by an even more nervous JJ, “Uhh, yeah. Everything is fine. I was calling because Spencer might have had a few too many drinks and—“

Above the chaotic noise that I just described, I heard Spencer Reid loud and clear. Well, maybe not the clear part. His inaudible slurring sounded vaguely like a rant I’d heard before. Then again, hadn't I heard them all at this point? ?

I hadn’t put it together yet, though, and once I did, I couldn’t help but laugh. “My boyfriend is drunk? Cute.”

I was already standing, gathering my things and tossing my jacket on to head out when I asked, “Do you want me to come get him?”

“Please.” I’d never heard a more relieved woman in my life. The very thought of him driving his best friends insane with his drunken lessons was enough to combat my exhaustion. The poor thing was probably humiliating himself one sip at a time.

But for every chuckle, I was really just hiding a deeper concern. Spencer wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Spencer wasn’t allowed to drink, and he knew that. Out of the two of us, he was the one who put himself at risk more often, and I had a goddamn bullet wound.

“Sure thing. Just send me the address.”

It dawned on me somewhere along the 20 minute drive that Spencer had not only finished his case, but also come home and gone out for a drink with his team. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but the fact that he hadn’t told me about any of it...?

I tried not to think about it, knowing that talking to him about it tonight would be a waste of time, anyway. From the way he'd sounded over the phone, he wouldn’t be in any state to talk about the deep nuances of addiction and our relationship.

So I pushed it away, trying to enjoy the fact that I’d be able to see him again. Now that we’d cleared the air about my past, things felt strangely calm. I told myself it wasn’t just the eye of the storm because I  wasn't sure I could handle much more excitement lately.

Showing up at one of the bars I used to frequent didn’t do much to convince me otherwise, either. The stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit me like a freight train as soon as I stepped out of my car. How did I do this every other night before?

As I approached the door, I didn’t even recognize the bouncer’s figure in the shade of the dim porch light. I recognized his voice, though, that’s for sure.

“Hey Jailbait, haven’t seen you around.”

Shit. Slower now, I hesitantly approached him with the most innocent and well-meaning look I could muster, knowing full well that another part of my life was going to be exposed tonight. At least this time, Spencer was the story and not the listener.

“Hey Tom...” I nervously laughed, drawing out the words while I came to a stop.

“Heard some pretty crazy shit went down to keep you off the scene. Must be bad if it keeps you away from me.”

It was weird to think that they talked about me. But I guess it was to be expected; we were all friends before Spencer Reid. And when someone in those friend groups goes missing suddenly, there’s usually reason to be worried. But in my situation, the worry wasn’t really necessary (aside from the whole being shot thing, I guess).

“Crazy is a good word for it.”

He leaned forward, beckoning for me to move in even closer with a wave of his hand. I complied, although I was a little confused as to why we were being so secretive.

“Hey, sorry, but... I can’t let you in tonight. You know I normally would, but the place is swarming with feds tonight.”

Then I remembered that I actually had to explain the reason for my absence, rather than just think about it in the abstract. “Oh no, I know.” I peered around him, trying to spot the man past the door. It wasn’t hard, considering how goddamn tall he was.

I pointed to him, causing Tom to turn with an amused grin before I explained, “I’m here for the drunk noodle man.”

The look on his face – hilarious, and a little insulting.

“What? Jailbait’s picking up a fed? Damn girl what’ve you been into?” He laughed, barely able to control himself. He laughed so hard, in fact, I’m surprised there weren’t tears in his eyes.

“Stop that.” I whined, but he didn’t listen.

“Does he know who he’s dating?”

The question hurt more than he could have anticipated. I didn’t want to confront those messy feelings, so I bundled them all into an annoyed exclamation. “Yes, he knows!” I huffed, crossing my arms and turning away from him as I stepped towards the door. “So can I go get him?”

He composed himself rather quickly after that, shaking his head and unhooking the rope that blocked off the door. “Please do. If I have to hear one more fact about Ancient Rome, I might quit.”

With the last obstacle gone, I happily skipped through the door, the excitement returning in a bubbling wave through my chest. “Thanks, Tom!” I chirped, barely giving him a glance as I raced through the door.

The only person more surprised to see me than Tom was Spencer. Although, to his credit, I did practically launch myself at his side. We both nearly toppled to the ground thanks to  our lack of coordination, but we were luckily stopped by the bar he was leaning against.

“Boo!” I shouted in his ear, hearing a small, surprised gasp from my boyfriend.

“(Y/n)?” He turned towards me now, stars quickly forming in his eyes as a big, goofy smile spread across his face. It took him a minute, but eventually he recognized me in the dim light.

“Hey old man.”

Hugging me back just a little too tightly, he began to gush, “Oh my gosh. What are you doing here?” Of course, before I could answer, he came to several other conclusions. “Wait! This is a bar. You can’t be here! You aren’t twenty one!”

He thought he was whispering, but he definitely, definitely was not.

“I’m here to pick you up, not party.” I actually whispered back, turning to see JJ practically hiding at the table. I’m guessing he hasn't wanted her to call me, although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t care at this point. He seemed pretty happy I was there.

“You can’t pick me up. You’re hurt.”

I didn’t even know where to start with that, so I just chuckled. “Smart as a whip, Dr. Reid.”

I ran my hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkled dress shirt he'd either had no time to iron, or had worn to bed the night before.  I didn’t like either of those options. Spencer must have noticed me analyzing the fact, because his hand came up to stop me.

Trying to quickly change the subject, I blurted out over the terrible music, “Even when I’m hurt, I can probably still pick you up. You probably weigh the same as me.”

He scoffed, looking down at his lanky body compared to mine before shaking his head. “That’s hurtful, (y/n).” He attempted a puppy dog face, which only made laughter burst from my pursed lips.

Grabbing hold of his wrists and pulling him away from the bar, I turned and waved to the few team members I could spot among the crowd before returning to my drunken idiot of a boyfriend. “Come on, love. It’s time to take you home with me.”

When the cool autumn air hit him, I felt the goosebumps ripple over his arm. He leaned a bit closer, resting too much of his body weight on me for my comfort, but I wasn’t going to tell him to stop.

“How did you find me?” He mumbled, trying to touch me more than he currently was. Pushing him away from me was supposed to serve as a gentle reminder that we were in public, but he didn’t seem to care about that at all.

“JJ called me.”

“They all like you a lot. So do I.” His fast responses were a little less impressive considering how spontaneous they seemed, but I let it slide. As long as he was saying nice things, it was fine by me.

Guiding him as gently as possible, which is to say not gently at all considering he was essentially a human giraffe, I sighed. “I’m glad to hear it, Spencer. Maybe I can actually hang out with them one of these days.”

The guilt appeared before I could stop it, but it was the least of my worries at the moment. More concerning would be getting him into his house and in bed without either of us doing something stupid. After all, he was usually the one who stopped me from being stupid. And so far tonight, he’d already done something pretty damn stupid.

As I pulled the driver side door closed, a silence filled the car. Spencer was stuck between staring at me with a lovesick smile and looking away, probably because of his pink cheeks making him look a perfect combination of embarrassed and plastered.

“So what had you drinking, Spencer?”

“A case.” He shot back with that voice he usually reserved for the bedroom. It was the voice that told me not to press, to take his answer and let it die.

Unfortunately, I couldn't really do that this time, concerning this particular topic. . “Good thing or bad thing drinking?” I asked quietly.

I think he wanted to snap at me, to tell me that it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t. The way my hands and words trembled told him that I was just as scared as he was that the answer might be the wrong one.

“I don’t know,” was what he said, instead.

“Okay.” I accepted that answer, understanding that it meant we could talk about it later, when his blood went back to normal and his mind was where it should be. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

And there we were, me sitting and staring at the indicators on the car as the engine turned, and him staring at me in the little light provided. After staring back at him for a moment, I had to ask the glaringly obvious question.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

That’s when Spencer Reid let out an honest to god giggle, his hands reaching out to massage my face that no longer showed any signs of the black eye I'd received a few weeks prior. “You’re sooo pretty.” He drawled, slumping over in his seat so he could rest his face against my shoulder.

I couldn’t help but laugh back, petting his hair for a second before returning my attention to the wheel. “Oooh, I like this.” I whispered, letting my heart skip a few beats as he nuzzled into the warmth that only I could provide him.

“I love you.” He mumbled against my shirt, letting out a deep breath before apparently trying to fill his lungs with the smell of my laundry detergent.

The sensation of his breath hot against my neck caused a familiar desire to stir in me, just barely beaten out by the even more powerful adoration I had for the puppy-like man who was already practically asleep on my shoulder.

“I love you, too, darling.”

He didn’t hear me, his soft breath indicating that he would be out for the drive. Taking my time to avoid the roads with potholes and curves, I managed to keep Spencer on me the whole way back to his apartment. Once we were there, though, I didn’t have any option but to wake him up. Unlike him, I definitely could not carry him out of the car.

It took him a surprisingly long period of time to realize that we were not, in fact, at my place. As soon as he did notice, he rubbed his eyes like it would transform the door in front of him. “Why didn’t you take me home?”

“This is your apartment, babe.” I explained, digging through his pockets to find his keys. He jumped at the contact before letting out a sound that was way too close to a moan for him to be making in the hallway.

“Yeah that’s not home.” He answered, swallowing down other noises that threatened to erupt by the time I withdrew my hand. “But home is–“ He hiccuped, patting his finger on my nose as he tried to stabilize his feet. “Home is where you are.”

“Mmm, so smooth.” I hummed, unlocking the door and shoving his drunk ass into the apartment before he could do something else that made me question whether I should just turn around and go home.

But he just looked so proud of himself, spinning around on his feet and crashing into the table beside the door. “Thank you!” He chirped, reaching forward to grab my hand and pull me closer.

When our bodies pressed together, the first thing I noticed was the fact he was clearly much more excited to be home with me than he was letting on. The thin fabric of his slacks left little to the imagination, and when my hand slid over the tent in his pants, there was nothing left to wonder.

“I brought you here... because I didn’t want to have to be quiet.” I purred, palming his erection over his clothes.

Through his broken moans, he still managed to ask the silliest question: “Why are you going to be loud?”

He was so fucking cute; so remarkably innocent in his drunken stupor, it was hard to remember that he was the same man that once finger fucked me on the metro.

“Why do you think?” I asked just as sweetly, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

Spencer still just stared, mesmerized by the way the buttons slipped from the fabric between my fingers. Once they were all open, I ran my hands over his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He was the one to close the gap, coming down to deliver a feverish kiss against my lips. He tasted like honey and whiskey, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in him. His hands were on my lower back, sneaking under my shirt and spreading goosebumps all over my skin.

I moaned into his mouth with the utmost desperation, murmuring words against his lips. “Take me to bed, Spencer,” I begged.

The words awoke something in him, and suddenly, his hands were off of me and raised in the air.

“Wait— I can’t.” He concluded, drawing in heavy breaths.

“Why not?”

I wasn’t sure which part of this situation did him in, although I had my suspicions. As much as I wanted him, I would suppress those urges if he was really, truly uncomfortable. I almost felt bad for a second, but then he spoke again.

“I have a girlfriend.”

With a few slow blinks, I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to return a serious answer. Deciding that was impossible, I deadpan replied, “I am your girlfriend, you absolute idiot.”

I took his stunned silence to be permission enough to start leading him into his room. He honestly looked like I’d just told him all the answers to the universe, and he trailed after me like my hand was a leash. Still, once I sat on the bed and pulled his body against mine, he paused again.

“My girlfriend can’t— she’s hurt. She can’t have sex with me.”

I got the impression he was trying to reason with himself more so than with me, which explained the third person. But it was deeply unsettling, because I really needed to know he was here in this moment with me.

“Stop saying 'she'. It’s me, babe.” I gently reminded, and I watched it dawn on him again, his eyes lighting up in the darkness. Sliding my hand up his arm, I pulled him forward to hopefully convince him to climb into the bed with me. “And we don’t have to have sex.”

Funny enough, Spencer was the one who had enough sense to strip off most of his clothes before he stumbled onto the mattress after me. His lack of coordination was even worse with the alcohol, and it reminded me of the virginal teenager I’m certain he once was.

It was strange to consider, that if we’d met each other under different circumstances, at a different time, our roles might have been somewhat reversed. To picture him as an innocent little thing was... kind of exciting.

But he was anything but innocent now, his face hanging over mine while he helped me disrobe, trying to focus his analytical abilities on me in his haze. Finding no pain or hesitancy, he crashed his lips over mine with an energy I hadn’t seen in some time.

And it was so invigorating, to feel his skin against mine without him having to constantly worry about whether or not he was hurting me. It’d been far too long since we shared a bed together like this, and now that it was happening, I could hardly breathe.  

“God, I love her.” He whispered against my skin, before quickly correcting himself, “I love you.”

I laughed, the kind that sputters from your lips when you try to hold it back. Pushing the hair from his face, I ran my fingers over his scalp. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk, I’m stupid.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, diving back down to kiss me again. I wasn’t going to argue with the brilliant Spencer Reid, even if the point he was making was that he was, in fact, stupid.

Maybe it was stupid, the two of us tangling up in his sheets despite the fact that I hadn’t been cleared for it yet by my doctor. I knew that it was coming soon – probably at my appointment in a couple weeks, actually – so why wait? I knew that Spencer would never hurt me. Even now, his hands were gentle in their insistence, raking over my hip and stopping just short of the place where I really wanted him.  

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, his hips rocking forward and pressing his erection against my leg.

“Touch me.” I ordered, louder and more forcefully than I intended. I was expecting an argument, but I didn’t get one. In fact, Spencer’s finger had already breached my folds before I even finished talking. Unwilling to let him be the only one to enjoy himself, I reached down to grab his cock.

“Shit.” He hissed, biting down on his lip while he rutted against my hand. “I just want to hold you down and fuck you until you cry.” The restraint was obvious in the fingers slowly sinking into me, his jaw clenched and his eyes barely able to stay open. “But I can’t.”

Through my heavy breaths, I panted out another request. “Tell me more about it.”

He immediately realized why I’d asked, and his fingers began to pump in and out of me faster and with more force, his lips trailing kisses over to my ear. While I tried to keep up the pace of my strokes, it became more complicated when his breath fanned over my ear.

“It’s been so long since I bent you over and had my way with you like I did that morning over your kitchen counter...” He moaned, and I could almost feel the sensations as he remembered them. Although his fingers would never be the same, just having him inside me in any capacity felt like pure bliss.

But he wasn’t done, continuing to speak his thoughts into my ear. “I just want to—fuck, I want to fill you up.” I went to respond, but I choked on a sob, instead. The lewd sounds between us only aided his descriptions.

“God, I love the way you feel. You’re always so wet for me.” He whispered, beginning to make small thrusts with his hips. The movement essentially allowed him to use my hand to stroke himself, and he let out another unsteady moan at the contact. “Think about what it feels like, little girl.”

“I-I am.” I could barely make the words come out; my body too sensitive to his touch after being starved of it for so long. And Spencer was ready to take full advantage of that.

“I still have so much planned for you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little stunt you pulled when you got all riled up.” He growled, using his free hand to grab a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head further to the side, laying sloppy kisses along my jaw. “I told you I’d give you triple the marks you left on me, and I can’t wait to cover you with me.”

“Fuck. Please, Spencer.” I hoarsely begged, my hand on his shoulder tightening so that my nails dug into his skin. If his grip on my hair wasn’t so tight, I would have thrown my head back. Instead, I just squirmed underneath him, crying out, “I’m so close, Spencer, please!”

He did not disappoint, his fingers curling inside of me with each thrust, and by some grace of God, he was able to coordinate his thumb over my clit. As if that wasn’t enough, he pulled back to look me in the eyes.  

“I want to feel you come on my fingers.” It was more of a demand than a desire, as evidenced by the way his hand tugged on my hair. “Come on, little girl. Make daddy proud.”

Just like that, my body responded to his call, my muscles trembling from the tension as my orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train. It was such an overwhelming experience, to remember exactly how Spencer was capable of making me feel.

And he knew it, too. “Oh, good girl,” he cooed, continuing his kisses against my neck and murmuring the words as they came to him. “That’s my pretty little slut.”

After taking my time coming back to earth, I struggled from the overstimulation still burning between my legs. Spencer hadn’t stopped his fingers, which were diligently stroking inside of me while he continued to buck his hips against my hand.

“I want you to finish inside me.” I slurred in my delirium, withdrawing my hand from his dick while he whimpered.

“I-I can’t. I can’t fuck you.” He was asserting a necessary and understandable hard limit, and it was clear I wouldn’t be able to convince him to fuck me that night.

But that wasn’t the plan, anyway.  

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I said between gasps, struggling against his fingers still inside me. “Come up here.” I whined, rubbing my hands on his shoulders while simultaneously trying to sit myself up.

The movement and the words made him withdraw completely. “(Y/n)...” He warned, running a hand through his hair while he sat up on his knees. “I could hurt you.”

“That’s always been a risk with us, Spencer.” My retort was both quick and persuasive, judging by the way he almost moved, but stopped himself yet again.

“Please. Please, do it. I want you to do it so fucking bad.” There was an obvious and deep desperation. I was literally begging him, to the point that I swore I almost cried. It felt stupid, but I needed him like I’d never needed anything in my life before. He’d spent months taking care of me, and I couldn’t do anything in return.

I just wanted to make him feel good, to give him something like we used to share.

Of course, I think those thoughts were also visible on my face, and they were obviously worrying him. With tender touches, Spencer’s fingers lightly trailed over the side of my face. The brief flashes of clarity alerted him of my struggle, and he let out a shaky breath at the war inside his own mind.  

“I want to feel you inside me, and this is the only way.” I concluded, trying to lead him to the simplest conclusion. It was the safest, easiest way to solve both of our current problems. And although I could see how hard the decision was for him, my pleading eventually bested him.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, leaning forward to grab the headboard, staring down at me as I shimmied further up the wood.

“Fuck!” He repeated, rolling his head back with a light groan when both of my hands reached forward to grab his hips. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

A giggle bubbled through my throat, and my body actually bounced in excitement as he slowly positioned himself in front of me. I wasn’t even sure which I was more excited for, my own orgasm or getting to finally give him one again.

As soon as my mouth closed around the head of his dick, I got my answer. Spencer’s moan filled the room, his hands holding so firmly on the headboard that the entire bed creaked. Although I figured he’d been taking care of himself in my absence, it appeared that wasn’t entirely the case. He seemed just as starved as I was.

“Holy shit.” He groaned, dropping a hand to the top of my head. I had to remind myself that he was drunk, which explained why he seemed so much more responsive than normal, with whimpers and pants flowing steadily through his mouth. He only got louder as he began to slowly push himself further into my mouth, stopping every few inches to retreat before pressing further.

“God, I need to do this more often. No back talk, no whining.” He said in a low tone under his breath, beginning to settle on a steady rhythm.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t think of anything except how fucking good it felt to be useful again, to feel him struggling to hold himself back as he started to more aggressively fuck my mouth. My eyes could barely stay open, but I needed them to. I needed to see him in the dim light of the streetlights that peered through the window.

He looked so beautiful, so perfect, and so mine. Feeling him slide back and forth against my tongue revived memories from long before and reignited my longstanding desire to do anything to please him. In all his caretaking, I was worried he might have forgotten how to control me.

But he hadn't.  Thank god, he hadn’t.

“Come on, little girl. Earn your fill.” He whispered, burying himself in my throat and holding me against the headboard. I only lightly choked on the intrusion before my body complied, swallowing him further until my lips were pressed against the base of him.

Suddenly, Spencer withdrew, beginning a brutal, dizzying pace. Now, my eyes couldn’t stay open, rolling to the back of my head as I used my hands to steady myself against his thighs. The sobs trying to escape felt more like moans, and they shoved Spencer over the edge he’d been riding in his caution.

“That’s it. Take it.” He barked the instruction, looking down at me and smiling, “Don’t you dare spill any of it, do you hear me?”

My answer was stifled against him, just the way he wanted it to be. And with a few more rough thrusts, Spencer buried himself as deep as possible. I swore my heart synchronized with the pulsing against my tongue as his seed spilled down my throat.

I hollowed my cheeks, trying to drain every last drop from him as he finished. It had its desired effect, and Spencer grabbed my hair and forced himself deeper one more time with a growl. “Good girl.”

Once he had enough, he pulled out of me with a satisfied grunt, waiting just a second before clumsily falling onto the bed beside me. I laughed as he hit the pillows, obviously too tired to even reposition himself in the disastrous sheets.

“Thank you, daddy.” I spoke in the silence, gingerly cleaning the spit that had dripped down my chin.

“Fuck.” The curse was muffled in the pillow, but I understood it well enough. He seemed more concerned when I started to sink down into the sheets again, reaching a tentative hand out to him.

Finally rolling over, he grabbed my arm and guided me closer. “Come here.” He said with the tenderness I’d grown used to over the past few months. He turned towards me, apparently not ready for me to sleep on my side just yet.

He brushed my hair from my face, lifting the sheets to look at the now mostly healed wound. I hated it when he looked at it. It just reminded me that I’d never be the same girl he first met. Every time he saw it, he would remember that day. I didn’t want to think about it.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

But even with the insecurity and anger in my gut, I wasn’t lying when I answered. “No, I’m fine.” My heart was so full, my body relaxing for the first time in so long. I was just so unbelievably happy to be together again. Even if it wasn’t like last time, it was still just as wonderful.

“I’m a little better than fine, actually.” I admitted with a bright smile.

Spencer hummed something in thought, but then winced. “Do me a favor.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and wiping a heavy hand over his face.

“Anything.”

“Kick my ass in the morning.”

He was caught off guard by my response, which was a full-hearted laugh that was too loud for how close the two of were. But I couldn’t help it, it was just so Spencer to still be punishing himself despite the fact that nothing bad had happened.

Once I calmed down enough to talk, I turned to him with a devilish grin. “I don’t wanna.”

Then were both laughing, and Spencer pulled me close to him until he could rest his chin on the top of my head, curling up against my side. “Spoiled brat.” He whined, running his hand through my hair and down my arm.

When I smelled the whiskey on his breath, the guilt hit me just as hard as any of the pleasure. I'd been so excited to get to experience this with him again, I almost forgot the reason he didn’t want to do it in the first place.

He just didn’t want to hurt me. He just wanted to make me happy.

“I just wanted to be with you again... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” I whispered, pulling the covers up so that I could hide my shame beneath them.

“I wanted to be with you, too.” He reassured me, half asleep and barely able to talk but wanting to get the words out. “I know it’s important to you, but I need you to know I would be with you even if I never got to touch you again.”

“Please never stop touching me.” I quickly replied, a genuine worry in my eyes.

But when Spencer glanced over, he just laughed, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“No? Even when I get pregnant and have a big ol’ belly?” I playfully answered, bringing his hand to my stomach and pressing it against the side that still remained intact.

The familiar position caused a shift in Spencer’s body language, and suddenly he was even more insistent on being impossibly closer. “You’ll still be irresistible to me.” He said against my hair, running his fingers lightly over the unmarked skin of my lower stomach.

“We’ll see, I guess.” I mumbled, not realizing that I said it aloud until I heard his confused reply.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” The defensiveness in my voice was terrifyingly transparent, and I hoped that if his drinking made him forget anything, it would be this conversation. “Go to sleep, drunk ass.”

“I need hugs and kisses first.” He complained, rubbing his nose against me in a way that should have been irritating instead of adorable.

“Spoiled.” I grumbled, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. I turned to kiss his cheek through the smile that was plastered over my cheeks.

Already half snoring in his sleepy state, he got out one more cringe worthy joke before he succumbed to his exhaustion. “What’s good for the goose...”  

“...is good for the gander.” I finished for him, before taking the advice and following him to sleep.

 —————————————————

| Part 18 |

[nejibaby]

The Only Thing I Got Right

Pairings: Ace x Y/N

A/N: I just finished watching the Marineford Arc and I cried so much so I wrote this on a whim. Sorry in advance if there are grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. It's the tears' fault, I swear! 😭 ((I just desperately wanted Ace to survive, you know? 😭))

This song reminds me of Ace, idk why.

You’re shaking. It would’ve been nice if it was because of the cold or if it was from excitement, but this isn’t the case. You’re shaking from fear, from anxiety. Today, Ace, the love of your life, is going to be executed and you didn’t know if you’d make it on time. You barely got out of Impel Down alive with the help of Ace’s little brother, Luffy.

You hate the fact that you got thrown there with Ace courtesy of Teach, or should you say, Blackbeard. You hate the fact that you couldn’t save Ace from Blackbeard no matter how hard you tried fighting him. It was frustrating, but if a Devil Fruit user like Ace had no match for him, what more of you? You have no powers like that, the only thing that you have is your knowledge on Rokushiki and daggers.

You got imprisoned at Level 3 of Impel Down while Ace was rumored to be on Level 5. Being thrown on a relatively lower level was understandable, even if you are part of Whitebeard’s crew, you are no commander like Ace. Still, even if you are weaker than Ace, you desperately wanted to go get him out of there but it was impossible. Or so you thought.

When you saw a Straw Hat on a male running around with two others on Level 3, you instantly knew it was Luffy. It seemed like god was in your favor because apparently one of your cellmates, who you came to learn was Mr. 2 from Baroque Works, was Luffy’s friend. When he got Mr. 2 out of the shackles, you begged to come with them, telling him your relationship with Ace. Luckily for you, Luffy needed all the help he could get so he easily got you out with the help of the other prisoner he was with. It was all chaos after that.

You’re currently hiding in the crow’s nest of the Marine ship you helped steal alongside Crocodile, Mr. 1, and Jinbei. Your body is already aching from all the running and fighting you did just to escape Impel Down. But even before that, your body had already been tired from the lack of nutrition and of sleep. How could you even dare to sleep knowing Ace was somewhere else, probably beaten to a pulp? And if that wasn’t enough, the sudden knowledge of him being executed in a few hours added more strain and tension to your body. You didn’t want anyone to see you in such a state. You didn’t want anyone to pity you.

But if you’re hurting this much, then it must’ve been so much harder for Luffy. You make a mental note to talk to him before crashing to Marineford. For now though, you need to rest — not only for your body, but for your mind as well. You have to be ready, the worst is yet to come. When you closed your eyes, you welcomed sleep like an old forgotten friend.

Your sleep didn’t last long, however, because of both the nightmare of Ace reaching out for you with bloodied hands and of the waters that suddenly rocked the whole ship. Before you could even get down the crow’s nest, the ship abruptly stilled and the air chilled. When you looked down, you clenched your teeth at the sight of the sea that turned into ice.

A mental clock was ticking like a time bomb in your mind. How were you supposed to save Ace now?

As if hearing your question, Luffy started gathering the people in the ship about his plan. At this point, you would do anything just to get to Ace so you didn’t hesitate to help him in his plan on freeing the ship from the ice. But the next thing you know, you were falling after kicking the thick layer of ice as hard as you can.

Just as you looked down to where you’re supposed to land, you realized that it was Marineford and the war had already started. With a little tilt of your head, you see Ace in the scaffold, shackled up. Worry was etched on his face, his focus on Luffy. You could almost hear him saying how stupid his little brother is.

Was it wrong to smile at the sight of him at a time like this? But how could you not? He’s still alive! You have a chance at saving him. You release a sigh of relief.

You try not to draw his attention to you. He already has a lot to worry about — namely, the Whitebeard pirates, the allied pirates, and Luffy. It was a good decision that you didn’t change out of your prison clothes, it was easier not to get noticed by him this way. For all he knows, you’re just one of the many escapees Luffy helped. You want to keep it that way. At least for now.

There’s no time to waste, so when you landed, you immediately head off to the direction of the scaffold. After seeing that Ace was still alive, you feel yourself get pumped up again. You fight each and every Marine who tries to stop you.

No matter how hard each blow you receive, no matter how painful each swipe of the swords you get, no matter how many times you get knocked down, you keep on fighting. You keep on standing up. There’s only so much your Tekkai could do when you’re severely outnumbered. Nevertheless, you keep on going. Nevermind the multiple cuts and bruises you have. There is only one thing in your mind and that is saving Ace. Even at the expense of your own life.

From the way Luffy fought at Impel Down, you know he’s incredibly strong and tenacious so you find yourself backing him up. You don’t go near him, knowing Ace’s attention was on him, but you guard him from your side. Not a single Marine was able to pass through you from your side of the battlefield. But you can’t cover every area for him. Despite that, he managed to take down anyone who was in his way.

Your ears are ringing from all the overlapping noises of guns being fired, screams of agony from pirates and Marines, swords clanging, and hurried footsteps. At one point, you block all of the sounds while you focus on your own breathing as you run.

Even when everyone stopped moving to watch as Pops descended the Moby Dick and made his move, you continued running. You have to keep up with Luffy. There’s no way you’d let Ace die.

The only moment you actually stopped running was when Luffy unconsciously used the Conqueror’s Haki. So he can do that too, you thought.

That was also the moment you actually got to look at the surroundings properly and realized that Pops had been stabbed. Your knees buck from the sight and you fall down. Regret immediately flooding your body. You’re so focused on trying to save Ace that you didn’t notice Pops needed help too.

The Marines took this opportunity to attack you. Just as a sword was about to hit you, McGuy blocked it.

“What are you doing, Y/N? Snap out of it. This is war. There’s no way we’d be able to rescue Ace if you don’t get your bearings straight!”

The harshness in his tone brought you back to reality. He’s right. Pops ordered everyone to lend their strength to Luffy, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do.

You, along with everyone else, push yourselves to your limits to help Luffy. He did not disappoint. He even punched his own grandfather, Garp, just to be able to reach Ace and free him.

The moment the scaffold collapsed, you almost collapsed with it. Tears start falling from your eyes as you see Ace finally free from his shackles. A smile has finally graced his face as he fought side by side with his brother. At that moment, you think that he’s at his brightest when he’s with his sworn brother. You couldn’t be any more happier.

Now that he is free, it’s time to figure out how to escape. Everyone’s running towards the ships but you stop after noticing Pops wasn’t making the same movement.

“The order I’m about to give will be my final captain’s order!” Pops announces. “You and I will be parting here.”

Your breath hitched at the declaration.

“All of you, make sure you survive, and reunite with each other in the New World!”

You don’t listen to whatever he says next. You refuse to. You stand your ground. You’re not going to abandon the man who warmly accepted you into his family without hesitation despite knowing all of the crimes you committed.

As if sensing your refusal, he turns slightly to your direction, “Are you disobeying your captain’s orders?!”

Stupid old man, he should know by now that you’re no good at following orders.

Ace is one of the last persons to follow his order. You turn away from the conversation they are having, knowing it was a private matter.

When they’re done talking and Ace finally starts running towards the ship, Pops turns to you. He doesn’t talk, he just looks at you.

Shame suddenly overcomes you. You didn’t get to stop Ace from coming for Teach. When he left, you begged Pops everyday to allow you to set sail, promising that you’d bring Ace back. When he finally allowed you, you didn’t waste any time. But even when you found him, you couldn’t bring him back, it was too late and you were just too weak. It was your fault this happened. “Pops, I’m sorry I—”

“I did this. This is all my fault.”

“But—”

He shut you up with his stare.

“Let’s leave here together,” you plead.

But he doesn’t reply. With his stare, you can tell that he isn’t backing down on his order, no matter how much you persuade him to. You release a shaky breath. With tears streaming down your face, you gave one last bow and one last thank you.

And then you ran.

The others are already further away from you but you notice a group of them stopping in their tracks. There in the center of the commotion is Akainu and Ace, seemingly discussing something.

There’s no time for this, you thought.

“—In other words, Whitebeard is an eternal loser, who will never surpass Roger. That’s all he is. Everything I’ve said is the truth,” the admiral says. “He reigned the seas for decades, yet he never became a king or gained anything.”

You clench your jaw at the bullshit he’s spouting, after everything Pops had done to save you, you’re livid to hear him be deduced as a loser. But regardless of the anger rising in front of you, you know this wasn’t the time to get riled up.

The thing is, Ace gets easily riled up. It’s one of his flaws as a person. So when he starts walking to Akainu’s direction, Izo is first to shout, “Don’t fall for it, Ace! Turn back!”

But it’s no use.

That’s when you let your presence known, you shout at the top of your lungs, “Just turn back, Ace!”

Everyone whips their head at the sound of your voice, except Ace and Akainu.

Even you, who are usually able to keep Ace in check, couldn’t snap him out of his anger.

It’s too late.

They exchange blows. Ace falls down, magma is far greater than fire, after all.

“The Pirate King, Gold Roger. Dragon, the Revolutionary. These two men’s sons being stepbrothers is quite a frightening thought.” Akainu says.

When he looks over at Luffy’s direction, you immediately know what he plans to do. You don’t even think twice. There is no second to waste.

“Soru.”

The sound of your voice finally reaches Ace. His eyes widen in realization of what’s going to happen.

“Wait!” He pleads.

But before he could even stand up, you already placed yourself in front of Luffy. “Tekkai.”

But the admiral’s strength and power is far greater than your ability. His fist goes through your chest.

“Y/N!” Ace shouts.

The rest of Division Commanders are in shock.

Akainu clicks his tongue at the sight of you and detaches his fist from your body.

You slump, Luffy catching you in the process. “Oi, Y/N-chan... What did you…? Why did y-you d-do that?” He asks.

In no time, Ace comes to Luffy’s side. “Y/N…”

You smile sweetly at the two men and then you turn to Luffy. “You’re Ace’s brother, silly. Of course I’d do this for you.” You cough out blood and then hiss at the pain.

“Stop talking!” Ace demands.

While Luffy and Ace are distracted, Akainu makes his move once again. But the slight motion didn’t go unnoticed by Jimbei and the Division Commanders. Even if you aren’t a Commander, you acted like Ace’s right hand. To the crew, you’re as important as Ace is. There’s no way they wouldn’t fight for you. So altogether they start covering for the three of you.

You feel your body shutting down on you. You could barely hear Ace calling for a doctor and Luffy desperately asking Ivankov to help you. But you know it’s no use. “I… can tell my body is at its limit,” you whisper.

Ace doesn’t agree, then he gently takes your body from Luffy. “No, I’m going to find someone else who can help—”

“Ace…”

“—you. There’s got to be someone who—“

“Ace… My organs have been burnt. I know this’ll be the end of me.”

“No, don’t talk like you’re dying, Y/N!”

“But I am…” You say. “Look Ace, don’t worry, okay? I was prepared to die when I came here. I was ready to die just to get you out of here.”

“Why would you…”

“Because I love you,” you whisper. “You know… when I take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you’re the only thing that I think I got right.”

Ace hides his face on your neck as he hugs you. With the little strength you have left, you give a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. “Don’t go around disobeying the captain’s order and don’t go around breaking your promise to Luffy. You said you won’t die, right?”

You feel Ace nod at your words.

“Go to the ships and take everyone else. Please don’t follow me too soon.”

Ace hugs you tighter, panting as he continues to cry.

A small smile reaches your lips once again. At least this time he’ll listen, you think. “I can’t raise my voice anymore but please tell Pops and everyone else, even Luffy, they made my life worthwhile. I’m sorry if our journey ends he—”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence because darkness had consumed you.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Because Hearts Get Broken - Loving Is The Antidote (Part 3/3)

Because Hearts Get Broken Part 3 :) read the first two on my masterlist 

Synopsis: Overcoming fears is not an easy thing, but maybe it’s worth a shot if the ending leads to happiness. 

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: kinda angsty, mostly fluffy and SHMUTTYYYYYYYYY

Warnings: SMUT!!! (so beware, this is kinda sweet, but oh so filthy; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), m going down on f, slight fingering etc), swearing

Word count: 5895

Y/N had never been so nervous while getting ready for a show. She liked to be front-row, right by the stage to feel as close to the music as possible, the energy of the crowd filling her up and making her buzz with excitement, even hours after the concert was done. 

        The thing was – with when they started dating and then with the pandemic shutting everything down in spring, Y/N had never seen Harry live. Sure, he’d given her private concerts, had sung her any song she wanted, but this was different. Somehow, even though there were more people, it felt more intimate because this wasn’t just him lulling Y/N to sleep. This was Harry baring part of his soul to the world, and doing it with such ease, it made her heart ache.

        The venue was small, at least compared to the arena sizes Y/N knew he typically performed at. There were around 100ish or so people, and the line was quite quick to move. 

        She told the woman with the clipboard her name and provided some ID. The list wasn’t that long, and it took her barely two seconds to spot the name, as she smiled and gave Y/N a nod.

        “I’ll have Bert escort you to the backstage if you’ll just follow him, please.”

        “Could I actually watch from the crowd?” Y/N asked biting her lip. “I love being a part of it, you know. Feel the energy and stuff.”

        “Uh, sure.” The woman gave her an uncertain look. “It’s just that Mr Styles asked for you to be brought backstage, and umm…”

        “If Harry says anything,” Y/N put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “I’ll deal with it. Please, don’t worry too much. Unless he wants a kidnapping charge, he’ll deal with the fact that I’m inside the venue.”

        And that seemed to do the trick, as the girl, visibly relaxed and even laughed a bit, handing Y/N back her ID and motioning with her head to go inside. 

        Small tables had been set up, and each one could house four people at a time. Most of them had already been taken and given how she didn’t want to draw any attention, Y/N decided to take one of the tables at the very back, a pillar half obscuring the stage and with that – her face. 

        The enthusiasm was palpable in the air, and people were chattering away, anticipating the moment Harry with his band would walk onto the stage. A waitress came up to her, asking if she wanted anything to eat or drink.

        “And your name, please? To set up a tab.”

        “Y/N Y/L/N.”

        “Oh,” her eyes went a bit wide. “Um, no need to pay then.”

        Her brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

        “We’ve been told that anything you order should be put on Mr Sty – “

        “Mr Styles tab,” Y/N finished the sentence with a chuckle. “Yeah. Okay… well, is it possible for you to not say anything to him and let me pay for my drinks?”

        “I – “ she shrugged. “I guess?”

        “Just the G&T please.”

        The waitress nodded and clicked her pen, still seemingly unsure about what to do, but ultimately deciding to go with what Y/N asked. “Coming right up.”

        The lights dimmed, and Y/N’s attention was brought to the stage, where she saw Harry, Sarah, Mitch, Adam, Naomi and Charlotte appear and take their places, as applause and cheers became their background music.

        He looked good, very good, in fact. His brown hair was the typical messy mop on top of his head, the signature pearl necklace around his neck, while he sported the soft rainbow cardigan, a sharp-looking high neck button-up, and black slacks, with black boots.

        “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Harry started, and it made a collective chuckle rise into the air. He could post a fleeting comment on Instagram saying he was having a concert in three minutes, and there’d be ten thousand fans waiting for him. “When ‘Save the Children’ reached out to us and asked if we could help them raise some donations, we immediately hopped on the idea, and it warms our hearts seeing so many of you here, and the fact that you’re supporting their cause.”

        Loud cheers immediately exploded, and Y/N obviously joined in. 

        “All proceeds for the tickets made today will go to them, as will any other donations you decide to give, so, I hope you do, and let’s get the show going.”

        That was Sarah’s cue to hit her drumsticks together three times, as the notes of ‘Golden’ rattled the air.

        Seeing Harry in his element was nothing short of electric. Although he was sitting down, and most of the songs he sang were acoustic versions, it was dazzling to see the passion seep out of his body and into the lyrics he'd composed. 

        Throughout most of it, his green eyes kept scanning over the gathered people, while flitting to see what was happening behind the curtain, and it made Y/N sort of giddy, thinking that he might be trying to find her.

        Because in truth, he was. When Harry had arrived, he was all nerves and jitters, which had never happened before a show. Well, never before had Y/N come to one of his shows, so there was also that. 

        All throughout prep, he was waiting for someone from the staff to come up to him and tell him his girl had come, but no one did, until like five minutes before he was supposed to perform, a breathless woman, who seemed so nervous she was about to pass out, had tapped him on the shoulder.

        “Is she here?” Now he was the breathless one. 

        “Uh, yeah, Y/N arrived a little while ago.”

        His forehead creased in confusion. “Then, where is she? No one came to inform me.”

        “I’m so sorry Mr Styles, but she asked to be allowed into the crowd, she uh… didn’t wanna be taken backstage.”

        “Oh.”

        That was literally all he could manage, as his heart dropped. “Well… at least she’s here.” He gave the assistant a smile. “Thank you. I uh, I hope you’ll enjoy the show.”

        Then it was call-time, and he had to gather himself as he walked on the small podium, taking his place by the mic, and beginning the concert.

        After each song, he scanned the gathered people, in hopes of seeing Y/N’s face, but she had hidden really well, and when he’d looked to the sides, wishing to see her frame standing there, he had to remind himself, that she was there, and he still had to fulfil a little surprise, which he hoped she’d like.

“You know when writing… songs are inspired by many things, but just like with books you reread, they can get new meanings and make you feel different than before. So, although I had no clue this person existed when I wrote this song, the second I met her, I knew it was about her. She’s uh, she’s here tonight.”

Y/N’s head snapped up from where she’d been propping it against her hand so hard, she was sure she heard a bone crack.

        No.

        Fucking.

        Way.

        “So, I’d like to end this small get together and dedicate it to her. And I know this isn’t one of her favourite songs,” Harry let out a small laugh, Sarah mimicking it behind the drums. “She told me she’s kind of sick of it, given how it was all over the radio at one point, but uh, I hope that maybe, she - uh - she just listens to the words, and knows I mean it.”

        Y/N didn’t even need the first chord to be played to know what song he meant. ‘Adore You’. 

        During their quarantine, she’d jokingly said if it played one more time on the radio, she’d have to break up with him.

        He’d yanked her down on the couch, nose nuzzling into her hair. “ ‘N why’s that? Thought you liked my singing.”

        “I do,” Y/N wove her fingers into his locks and massaged at his scalp, making Harry let out a satisfied groan. “I just don’t wanna hear you sing about loving and adoring someone that ain’t me.”

        A playful smirk pressed against her skin. “Jealous, are we?”

        “No,” Y/N shrugged pinching his side. “Jus’ tired of the song.”

        “Don’t worry.” He brought his face from where he’d hidden it by her shoulder and turned hers to face him. “From now on, whenever I’ll sing it, I’ll sing it for you. You’re the only person I wanna love and adore.”

        “What about Gem and your mum.”

        A disgusted look passed over his features. “Not in that way!”

        “Harry!” Y/N slapped his arm as both of them dissolved into laughter. 

        “You don’t have to say you love me,” he sung, breaking her out of the trance, “you don’t have to say nothing, you don’t have to say you’re mine.”

        She’d never hated the song, never meant it when she’d said that, and could never be mad at Harry for having written out his feelings, woven them into notes and masterfully put it together for others to hear.

        It was a weird notion to Y/N though, knowing everyone in the world could hear how he’d loved someone so much, but that was just because of her own inability to properly express her feelings. Yet now, listening to him sing that song for her, made her chest hurt.

        Thankfully Y/N wasn’t the only one sniffling in the audience, so she wasn’t standing out that much. She was kind of scared that Harry might look over and others would connect the dots, but he didn’t, not really at least. His green eyes scanned the people, but mostly he kept his gaze on the floor, as if afraid of what reaction everyone would have as the song ended.

        “Thank you,” he muttered into the microphone the cheers morphed into ovations, while he pressed his fingers against his lips and ‘sent’ the kiss to the audience before retreating backstage with his band in tow. As people started to filter out, groups heading down the street while others lingered in hopes of catching a glimpse or having a word with Harry, Y/N waited by the table, finishing off her drink before moving towards the backstage. 

        “I uh.” She showed one of the security guards her ID. “I was told I can come backstage?”

        The burly man looked down at the woman next to him, who much like the assistant before had a clipboard. When she found Y/N’s name she looked up and smiled. “Right this way.”

        They wove through the small walkways, as people rushed back and forth, coiling up wires, dismantling the drum-set and carefully placing the instruments in their boxes for them to be put in the van.

        “He’ll be back here in a minute,” the representative said, opening up a door where Harry’s name was plastered on, letting her step in, and Y/N nodded, pulling her jumper sleeves down her palms.

        It was a nervous habit of hers, having switched over from biting her nails to plucking at loose threads of clothing to now pulling at them. Harry had been the one to help her get rid of the biting.

        “How am I supposed to paint your nails, if you rip them off?”

        Y/N had scoffed shoving him a bit. “You have your own nails to paint.”

        “Yes, but I wanna make your pretty too.”

        “You telling me I ain’t pretty enough for you?”

        “No, I think you’re gorgeous, but,” he’d leaned closer to her, so close she could feel his teeth graze her earlobe, “I do love it when I can see marks on my back in the morning.”

        Y/N let out a shaky breath, as butterflies tumbled through her stomach. Three minutes of anticipation and the door clicked open, making her whip around and come face to face with Harry.

        “Hey,” he breathed out. “I uh I didn’t really think you’d come, but I’m really happy you did.”

        Y/N shrugged toeing at the ground and smoothing her hands against her thighs. “I’ll always do everything I can to support you. Being together is not a condition in my book for making sure you’re alright and happy.”

        “Did you uh – di –“

        “Did I hear the song?” she interrupted him, and Harry visibly gulped nodding. 

        “Yeah.” It was barely a whisper, her eyes cast down, noticing how his foot was tapping an irregular rhythm.

        “And?”

        “And?” Y/N let out a chuckle before leaning down to the couch and grabbing a pillow. “How! Dare! You!” she yelled, hitting his arm with it. “You think you can just do that, you think you can dedicate a song – a fucking love song – to me and get away with it? You think you can just be sweet and nice and so fucking loving and not make me fall in love with you more? And – and – and you just think you can do that?! And make me feel things?”

        Harry’s smile was blinding, as he grabbed the pillow, throwing it onto the sofa, and eliminating the two remaining steps between the two, hands on her waist, forehead to hers, as Y/N huffed seeing the smirk bloom even more on his lips. “I made you feel things, huh?”

        “Yes,” she grumbled crossing her arms in front of her chest, but in no way was she attempting to push away from him, actually relishing his touch and warmth, and his skin against hers. “You did. And I hate you for that.”

        “Do ya really, dove?” He was smiling wider than before.

        Her nose brushed against his. “Very much so.”

        “I love you too. So much.”

        “You sure you want to take a chance on me?” Y/N had to ask. “It’s – I can’t promise it’ll be easy.”

        “Love’s not supposed to be easy. And you’re worth it. You’re worth everything to me.”

        “Okay then…” She had to suppress the cry that threatened to break out of her throat by clearing it.  “But on one condition,” Y/N stated with all seriousness. “You give me a proper shag right here, right now, because I’ve missed you so much, I won’t be able to wait until home.”

“Fuck, dove!” Harry groaned and cupped her cheeks, pulling her lips to his. “They’re gonna ban me from here,” Harry muttered against Y/N’s mouth, trying to wiggle out of the cardigan.

        “Then let’s give them a reason,” Y/N hummed against his lips, as her fingers, shaky but still nimble, undid the first button to his high-collared shirt. 

        Down and down, they went until the planes of his chest and stomach were exposed, and she could indulge herself by letting her palms and nails rake over the skin and the tattoos.

        “Wanna taste you,” Harry gasped pulling away for a breath of air. “Haven’t had you in so long, wanna feel you cum on my tongue.”

        Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head from his words alone, and given how she didn’t trust her voice to not shake, she nodded her head, helping him get her boots off, toeing the socks with them and then shimmying out of her jeans.

        Her bottom half was practically naked when Harry pulled her by the thighs, legs around his waist and lowered her on the shabby sofa. Her mind was so hazy from all the love and pleasure, Y/N didn’t even care about how it probably hadn’t had a good deep clean in ages.

        Skilful hands lifted up her jumper, exposing the tank underneath. Harry raised his eyebrow. “How many layers do you have on? I want you naked.”

        “It’s fucking winter in New York.” Y/N helped him remove the piece of clothing he found so offensive. “Did you want me to come in just lingerie and freeze my tits off?”

        He hummed before looking up. “Speaking of tits? Can I see ‘em?”

         “Maybe. If you eat me out first.”

        “Deal.” 

        The thing was, as much as Harry wanted to dive right into it, he was feeling mischievous, so he decided to drag out the process as much as possible. Hands caressing her sides, he lifted the shirt so he could press kisses to her stomach, leaving invisible marks of love with every step of the way, and he grinned to himself hearing Y/N’s breath hitch as he reached her underwear.

        There was an embarrassingly large wet spot, and Harry pressed his hips against the couch to somewhat minimise the pain he was starting to feel. He was not gonna blow a load in his pants when he finally got to be with Y/N again. 

        “Can I take 'em off?” Harry murmured, leaving a fluttery press of his mouth against her hipbone, while she viciously nodded. 

        Quickly he pressed a kiss to the spot he’d soon be able to see unclothed, and it made Y/N jerk, but fuck she was eager, pupils blown so much there was nothing left of her usual Y/E/C eyes, but two black abysses.

        Harry’s were quite the same, as the green had turned dark jade, and even that was a small ringlet around his intense gaze.

        “Do not!” She pointed a finger at him, and Harry stopped mid-motion, just as he was going to pocket her panties. “I won’t go commando while wearing jeans.”

        “But –“

        “It’s not you who’ll chafe.”

        Harry huffed, and put them on the side of the couch. “Fine. But just so you know, you’re very boring and are ruining all the fun.”

        “At least I won’t have to deal with a yeast infection.”

        He couldn’t argue with that, running his hands over her thighs. “Fair enough. But you owe me a kiss.”

        “Come here, you doofus,” she grabbed at the open lapels of his shirt and pulled him down, arms looping around his broad shoulder to have his chest pressed against hers and bring their lips back together. 

        For a couple of minutes, they let their tongues dance in the familiar rhythm. There were no teeth clashing, no foreheads bumping or biting. Despite both of their eagerness, they’d decided to revel in being together, so each kiss was experienced to the fullest.

        “Better?” she asked, completely out of breath, as they pulled apart. 

        “Yeah.” Harry smiled, mind a blissed-out haze. “Now, where were we?”

        She couldn’t really think straight either, so her only response was a lift of her hips.

        “Right,” he sighed and slipped a delicate hand down her tummy and along the inside of her legs.  “God, I missed being here.” And slowly his head joined where he was brushing the sensitive skin of the apex of her thighs.

        “Harry!” she dragged out his name, as his fingers just kept skimming her skin, and when she thought they’d slip past her folds, he dragged them back to the inner thigh. “Stop teasing!” Y/N had her hands over her eyes. 

        “Why?” he smirked, kissing right around the place she wanted his lips on, but not on it. “It’s fun. Payback for everything you put me through.”

        “Harry, I swear if you don’t put your tongue in me, I’ll put my foot through your face.”

        He lifted her legs up, and then over his shoulders, caging her hips in with his arms. “Not if I do that.”

        “Just – fuck! You’re such a bully!” Y/N laughed. 

        “Are you telling me, I’m being mean to my girlfriend, the love of my life, owner of my heart and soul?” he asked, leaning his cheek to rest against the inside of her thigh, and she wove her fingers into his hair.

        “Well, if you don’t do anything, it’s gonna be ex-girlfriend again.”

        Harry narrowed his eyes. “Look who’s being a bully now.”

        “But – just – please!” she whined. “Please, I need it so bad.”

        “Need what?”

        “Ugh, you’re such a menace!” Y/N pretty much yelled and leaned to rest herself on her elbows, catching Harry’s eyes to keep a direct gaze. “I need your tongue so far up my cunt, that by the end of it all, your neck is covered in my cum. Happy now?”

        His grin was wicked. “Very.”

        That seemed to do the trick, as he lowered his head, and with closed eyes like a wine taster, finally attached his mouth to where Y/N had been craving him for so long. A deep sigh of relief passed her lips, and she threw her head back against the couch cushion, savouring the feeling of what was happening to her. 

        “Did you eat pineapples before coming?” Harry asked, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers; they slipped in without any resistance with how wet she was. “Taste… sweet.”

        “Had a fruit salad for dinner,” she moaned as he leaned back in and licked a broad stripe. “Didn’t have anything else in the fridge.”

        “That’s not proper dinner. Pizza afterwards?”

        Y/N hummed as he sucked on her clit. “Domino’s?”

        Harry linked his fingers through hers and brought their intertwined hands to rest on her stomach. “Whatever you want.”

        “Isn’t this kind of cheating for you though?” she let out a choked-back laugh, and with furrowed brows, he detached himself from her core.

        “What’dya mean?”

        “You’re having dessert first.”

        The singer threw his head back with a cackle. “Don’t worry, I’ll eat my veggies. But let me finish having my fruit first.”

        It was like he’d been starved of her, and in a way, Harry definitely had been. For almost three months, a quarter of a year, he hadn’t felt Y/N’s touch, hadn’t tasted her, nor pretty much heard the sounds she made.

        All he’d been left with was one last good-bye, a kiss given in a passion induced haze, and the one-sentence she’d recorded for her voicemail box, and well, let’s just say – Harry was more than happy to feel her hands let go of his and grasp onto his hair, to drink up everything she offered and listen to all of the moans Y/N was no longer depriving him of. It was heaven, to say the least.

        “ ‘M not gonna last long,” she gasped, yanking at his hair, making him moan into her, the vibrations only adding to the already intense pleasure that was coursing through her veins.

        Harry released her clit with a small pop. “Don’t want you to last long. Want you to cum and do it like you said you would – soak me all the way down to my neck.”

        A second later, he had his mouth around her clit again, ten seconds later, her whole body seized up, the air got stuck at the back of her throat, as her eyes rolled to the back, and her back arched up from the couch so far Harry almost lost his hold on Y/N’s waist.

        It was through a fog she heard Harry speak, and it took all of her willpower to focus on understanding what he was saying.

        “Hey, come back to me, dove,” he whispered, gentle palms coming to hold Y/N’s face, and he intently watched her eyelids flutter, body still going through the aftershocks of orgasm. “Come back, dove.”

        “Mhmm,” she let out a soft sigh, leaning her face more into Harry’s touch before opening her eyes and giving him a fucked-out smile. 

        “You good there?”

        The words ‘the best’ were pretty much a slur, but Harry understood them, eyes twinkling. “Take my top off.”

        “What?”

        She quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t you wanna see my tits?”

        “Yeah,” Harry laughed. “I did – do. Very much so. Gonna let me?”

        “Just take my top off.” 

        Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, where she could taste herself (and much like Harry had said – she did taste sweet), he practically ripped the tank top off, and with a little help from Y/N who stretched her back, the bra came off as well, revealing her in her full naked glory.

        “So beautiful,” he uttered in a soft voice. “Still so bloody gorgeous. Should kick myself for ever letting you go even for a second.”

        A little piece of her heart broke at Harry’s statement. “Wasn’t your fault.”

        “Maybe.” He dragged a hand between her breasts and watched as Y/N’s breathing went ragged. “Maybe not. All I know is, I shouldn’t have let you leave.”

        “Then don’t let me. Please.”

        It was the tears in her eyes which made him lean down and give her an open-mouthed kiss, tongue twisting against hers, promising that whatever happened, whatever insecurities came their way, he wouldn’t ever let go. 

        “Take these off,” Y/N said, popping open the button to his slack, and even that small motion made Harry release a groan of relief, as some of the pressure was taken off his painfully hard dick. “Wanna have you inside me.”

        “Dove, you’ll kill me with that mouth of yours.”

        ���I’d rather you raw me than die.”

        “ ‘S not my fault you’ve got such a dirty mouth.”

        He’d managed to kick off his shoes, and shimmy the trousers down, now lying in a pile on the floor, while Y/N had fully removed his shirt and had thrown it somewhere across the room, itching to just have him pressed against her. 

        “Condom,” Harry hissed when Y/N’s hand slipped behind his briefs and grabbed him at the base, twisting her palm the way he liked, and slowly moving it up so she could press her thumb against the sensitive tip. “Condom – shit – Y/N,  I wanna cum, but not that quick.”

        “Nuhu,” she shook her head, wrapping her legs around his waist, both her hands going to the back of his underwear and dragging them down, not before squeezing his ass. “I said I want you to raw me.”

        If Harry was going to bust a nut before, now it took him literally biting on his lip and closing his eyes for a minute to gather composure.

        “Wait no!” Y/N suddenly sat upright as he was going to lean down, almost knocking her forehead to his nose.

        “What? What’s wrong?”

        “Nothing, I just wanna blow you.”

        “I –,“ he stammered, “you – fuck. Okay. As much as I love that idea, because believe me I do, you’ll have to do it later, ‘cause I’m just about ready to cum.”

        Y/N’s brows furrowed, hand reaching for his hard member, Harry having to stop her midway. “But – you just gave me such good head. I wanna give some to you too.”

        “I will literally cum just from you talking if you don’t stop, but I really wanna fuck you, so will you please just let me?”

        “Okay,” Y/N nodded leaning back down and reaching for Harry to lay over her. “But you’ll let me stuff my face with your cock after?”

        “Jesus Christ.”

        “ ‘S not fun being teased, is it?” Y/N grinned, biting on his earlobe, as Harry took himself and lined up with her entrance, letting the tip nudge against her clit.

        “Yes well,” he took in a breath, slowly sinking in, “if you giving me a blowjob is your form of revenge, I might have to piss you off more.”

        That was a suggestion Y/N was happy to take him up on, as long as it got Harry inside her. 

        He was being very gentle, very much so aware of how sensitive she still was from her previous orgasm, and all he wanted to do was make her feel as good as possible, so he stilled half-way in, but Y/N shook her head.

        “More,” she whimpered.

         “Don’t wanna hurt you,” he muttered against her lips, legs shaking from how much pleasure he was already having, but still very much so attuned to what Y/N’s body was telling him, yet she seemed to not be having any of it.

        “Harry if you don’t get inside me right up to your balls, I will get myself off in front of you, and leave you high and dry.”

        “Now that,” he looked at her pointedly, “just won’t do.” And with those words, he sank deeper, just as Y/N had requested until he’d bottomed out.

        All the air had been choked out of her lungs from the sensation, and not only did Harry have to wait for a second for her to adjust (and to compose himself somewhat), but also for Y/N to take in a breath.

        “Breathe, dove,” he let out a small laugh, and it made Y/N reciprocate, her chest rattling with uneven intakes. “Said I didn’t wanna hurt you, let alone kill you.”

        “ ‘S not my fault your dick’s massive.”

        “Do I hear complaining?”

        “No, just stating a fact.”

        “Well, I’ll be taking that as a compliment.” He smoothed away some strands of hair, letting the two of them just lay there for a moment, to relish in the normalcy of the situation and how amazing it was to be back together, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

        Harry left kisses all over Y/N’s face as she calmed down, lips skimming over her cheeks, then down her jawline, up her chin to give a peck on the lips before kissing the tip of her nose and the bridge, then each of her eyelids and then the forehead before slipping to soothe at her temples. “You alright?” He checked in, a thumb stroking her cheek. “Do you want some water maybe?”

        “No,” she shook her head, her own palms on a never-stopping motion on his back, up and down, and then circling against Harry’s sides. “Jus’ needed a second to gather myself. ‘S been a while.”

        “So, you haven’t gotten with anyone while we – “

        Y/N raised an eyebrow as his question trickled off. “Do you really wanna know if I’ve had sex with anyone? Right now? With your dick all the way in my vagina?”

        “Hey! STDs are a real thing!”

        “Harry, if I was, I would’ve told you before all of this. And not just because of health risks…”

        And that made something in his chest bloom. This certain hope, he’d felt get extinguished when Y/N had broken it off, but that had been quite the pest in his mind. The hope that was the reason he’d tried so hard to talk to her both on New Year’s and then the week prior – the hope, that Y/N did trust him enough to open up, and that if he just gave her the time, she’d do so without inhibitions.

        Her answer confirmed it to Harry. He had no rights to know what her sex life was like when they weren’t together, he wasn’t her keeper, but the fact that she’d implied, she would’ve let him know regardless, that Y/N so wholeheartedly trusted him with such intimate information made that hope blossom into a glowing flower.

        “I haven’t been with anyone either,” his tone was sincere. “I – I couldn’t. I tried to, but I just couldn’t take it that far, because every time I opened my eyes… it wasn’t you staring back at me.”

        “Haz…” tears gleamed on Y/N’s bottom lashes, and when they fell, he gently wiped them away. “I’m sorry.”

        “No.” He shook his head. “None of that. It was a good thing. Because we’re here, right now, right this second, and it’s you I’m with, and it’s you I wanted. Needed. So, none of that.”

        “I just – “

        “I know,” he said and pressed his forehead against hers. “I know.”

        “Okay… I – “ she took in a breath. “I think you can move now.”

        “You sure?”

        “Mhm,” Y/N hummed. “Just take it slow at first.”

        Harry’s head fell into the crook of her neck. “I’ll take care of you. Promise. Just tell me if it hurts, and we’ll stop.”

        “You could never hurt me.”

        And as much as her statement made his insides all warm and fuzzy, Harry still moved gently. Slowly he rolled his hips into hers and took in the small moan that left Y/N’s throat. Then once more, and more, and more until he’d set a bruising pace, pounding into her so much, the table next to the sofa shook with the force.

        “Fuck, Haz.” It was a breathless whimper, her nails digging oh so deliciously into his back, leaving crescent moon marks for him to admire later. “Feels so good. So deep.”

        “And you’re so tight,” he grunted, placing a hand on her lower stomach and pushing down until he could feel himself moving inside of Y/N. “Taking me so fucking well.”

        One of his palms came to rest by her head, and the other took the arm of the couch, giving Harry the chance to lean into her even more and finally hit that spot that made all thought leave her head, and all breaths come in short gasps, while she desperately tried to hold onto reality by digging her nails in his biceps.

        Not that Harry was fairing any better. With every thrust and stroke, he was slowly coming closer to letting go, to finally getting that release he craved and painting Y/N’s core with his cum, but before that, he just had to, if only to prove to himself he could, get her off one more time. 

        His palm slipped down from the armrest of the couch, over Y/N’s collarbones, squeezing her breast before finding its way between them to rub circles over her clit.

        “Ah, shit,” he moaned, looking at where his cock was disappearing into her, wetness spilling and sticking to his lower abdomen and thighs. “Fuck, dove, I need you to come.”

        “ ‘M almost there,” she gasped. “Don’t stop rubbing.”

        He didn’t, instead, increasing the pace, and he felt her clench more and more until there was pretty much no way for him to move and that pushed both of them over the edge.

        It was an explosion of fireworks without a sound, as bright colours came to life behind their eyelids, but all the noise became non-existent, the most euphoric feeling in the world seemed to replace their blood and replenish their souls with love.

        But funnily enough, even though Y/N was the one who’d had two mind-blowing orgasms, it seemed Harry was having a harder time coming down from the high, as he was still shaking, his whole body racked by tremors, hair sticking to his sweat-slicked skin.

        “Come back to me, Haz.” Y/N kissed his eyelids just like he’d done to her. “Come back. ‘S alright.”

        “Nuhu,” he shook his head, laughter rumbling through his chest and reverberating into hers. “I think you’ve killed me. Absolutely bloody murdered me.”

        “Guess I gotta hide your body then.” She smiled, letting her hands roam his back and soothe the pain her nails had left.

        “Good thing you’re obsessed with all those crime shows.”

        “Gotta get some useful skills somehow.”

        Loud banging against the door made the two jump, and Harry whipped his head towards it.

        “Are you two done fucking?” Sarah hollered. “ ‘Cause there are people here who’d like to change and get something to eat.”

        “What’dya say?” Harry raised an eyebrow at Y/N. “Pizza?”

        “You did promise dinner.”

        “I did.” He kissed her. God, he was never going to get tired of kissing her. And luckily, Y/N was there to stay.

        “Great.” She smiled. “And after that, I’ll get my desert.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

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Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N:..... I need a cold shower, yall. Didn’t intend for it to get that explicit, but oh well :D 

P.S. my tags are always open :)