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#cork park
stairnaheireann · 1 month
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#OTD in 1847 – Choctaw Indians collect money to donate to starving Irish Hunger victims.
Moved by news of starvation in Ireland, a group of Choctaws gathered in Scullyville, Ok, to raise a relief fund. Despite their meager resources, they collected $170 and forwarded it to a U.S. famine relief organisation. The Choctaw Indians may have seen echoes of their own fate in that of the Irish. Just 16 years before, in 1831, the Choctaw Indians were forcibly removed from their ancestral…
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vtatters · 6 months
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thecreativemillennial · 3 months
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unlikely-bloom · 2 years
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working on something….
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southieparkie · 2 years
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lol me when i look up references to draw a canonically white character
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kstarvibes · 11 months
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Multinational K-pop Girl Group "Black Swan" Soars with "Karma"
Harnessing the vibrant energy of K-pop, the multinational quartet, Black Swan, has turned the music industry on its head with their recent hit “Karma”. Featuring intriguing lyrics that explore dangerous allure, a melodious and rhythmic backdrop, and powerful rap verses, “Karma” is a unique blend of seduction and power, setting the stage for a global musical takeover. A Successful Global…
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streetsofdublin · 11 months
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PAVILION OF LIGHT BY DARMODY ARCHITECTURE
The Mardyke is an area in Cork city, on the northern half of the long western part of the island formed by the two channels of the River Lee near the city centre.
BANDSTAND IN MARDYKE GARDENS IN CORK CITY I have photographed this bandstand a number of times but this time I had a number of problems but the main one was that I had to edit out a number of children who kept getting in the way but it is nice to see that they like the structure as much, if not more, than I do. The other issue is that they structure is no longer uniformly white and there is…
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donncha · 2 years
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The Lady And Her Dog
The Lady And Her Dog
This large wall in Bishop Lucey Park has featured a huge mural on it for several years now. This is the wall as it was in June 2021, but the mural has been changed since then.
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f1 · 2 years
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dannyphantom-zero · 3 months
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Doctor Danny chapter 2
Danny weighed his current options. As a civilians he could just walk away and pretend he never saw anything. But as a doctor with very strong morals, he couldn't leave a man to bleed out in some unsterile alleyway.
He wondered for a brief second how future him would feel about this, probably frustrated, still Danny picked up the very unstable patient and laid him in the backseat secured by seatbelts.
He wanted to take his to a hospital but he knew this patient wouldn't consent even if he could which he couldn't right now because he was unconscious.
Danny decided to respect the vigilante to the best of his ability. After parking the car he scooped up the vigilante bridal style and turned invisible.
He flew up to his apartment and went intangible, making it so he could safely pass through the wall.
As soon as he laid the patient on the floor he realized something needed to be done about his "research", he couldn't let the vigilante see it and start questioning it. So he opted for turning the cork board around.
It was regrettable that he couldn't put the guy on a proper bed but he didn't have one himself so there wasn't much he could do in that regard.
Danny peeled off the blood soaked clothes. He hated it when he had to cut clothes but in this case it was the only way to see the wound better.
It seemed like some kind of jagged weopen had made deep gashes to his abdomen.
He got to work cleaning the wound, despite how much he had bled before the seriousness of the injury seemed to be exaggerated by the mount of blood Danny saw at first glance. It looked completely treatable.
"There seems to be a deep puncture wound near the aorta, thankfully it didn't hit it" Danny muttered to himself.
"There a slight abrasion on the abdomen over the inferior mesenteric but not deep enough to cause any real damage. He would be fine after getting some stitches"
Danny really wanted to do this at the hospital, it would be so much better but he really didn't want to be watched all the time because he knows the vigilantes identity.
Gathering all his courage Danny grabbed his tools. He was hoping the unconscious vigilante wouldn't wake up during this. Danny could administer anesthesia but he was a licensed anesthesiologist. He also didn't have any anesthesia.
Well, most people didn't use anesthesia for stitches anyway, but he didn't have the numbing shots either. The most he could offer of his patients woke up is some pain killers and towel to bite on.
Danny decided to use absorbable sutures, a type of dissolvable stitches.
"Alright now, please don't wake up" Danny pleaded in a whisper.
He began stitching up the wounds. Because he was a vigilante, Danny had a bunch he wouldn't stop just because he was injured, Danny would have to put in extra stitches in case he tears the other ones.
Danny finished and sighed in relief. The man was still asleep.
He picked up the bloody towels and set out a clean shirt pair of clothes for the man. The man's pants were also stained with blood.
Danny left the apartment for a few seconds to get food. He was trying to be polite, he never really had guests so of the man was hungry he wanted to be ready.
Jason opened his eyes slowly. His entire body felt sore. His hand went up to his face only to feel a hard metal. His helmet. He pulled off the helmet and took a big gasp of fresh air.
The helmet must've shut off and stopped ventilating.
Jason scanned the surroundings. It looked like a small apartment, it was almost bare, not even a bed, on fact Jason just realized he woke up on the floor.
Well, at least there was a blanket beneath him. He was restrained on any way he could see, there weren't any visible surveillance devices either.
Jason sat up and felt the wounds to see how bad they were when his hand grazed a bandage. It was tight but comfortable, like a pro.
Jason peeked beneath the wrappings to find stitches.
"Why?" Jason asked himself in bewilderment. Who in their right mind would go through all the trouble.
Jason heard a sound from around the corner of the room he was in. It sounded like the door was opening.
Jason braced himself. Danny walked in carrying two bags, one with two steaks and the other with a case of beer. He didn't make it a habit to drink but he knew that the beer could be an olive branch.
There was just one problem, how would he eat with his helmet on. Maybe Danny could wrap up the food for the vigilante after he is done cooking it so he could eat in peace.
At least that was the plan. Danny almost shrieked when he saw the vague outline of a man's head.
HE TOOK OFF HIS HELMET!
Danny closed his eyes tight and blindly made his way to kitchen tripping in the process.
Jason had been expecting some thug, what he got was this. A healthy man.
He watched as Danny fumbled around trying not to look at Jason's face. He decided enough was enough when he heard a loud 'thump' followed by a silent "fuck~".
Jason put his helmet on and made his way to where Danny was. Danny stood up.
"Sorry, I wasn't expecting that" Danny said.
"Who are you?"
Danny didn't answer.
"I'm a doctor"
Jason felt a little frustrated, he was asking for a name.
"Im trying my best to stay out of your way, I only helped you because you were bleeding out in an alleyway and as a doctor I couldn't ignore that"
"And your making food because?"
Danny grew red.
"I'm hungry" Danny said.
"That's a lot of food for one person"
"I figured you would need something to eat, I was going to wrap it up for you"
"No need I'll eat here-"
"NO!"
Jason almost flinched.
"Sorry, I just, if you take off your helmet and I see you, then you'll be watching me so I don't tell anyone who you are. I don't have time for that"
Jason was even more intrigued. This guy acted like he was a vigilante.
"You seem familiar with this kind of stuff"
Danny shook his head.
"No, not really"
Danny started cooking the steaks.
"If you want to take off your helmet you can go to the next room. I'll let you know when the foods done."
"Alright" Jason said numbly before slipping out of the room. The only other room was the one he woke up in and the bathroom. So naturally he started snooping.
Not that there was much to find.
"It's ready!"  Jason bumped into a wall in surprise and knocked a cork board off the wall.
"Shit!" Jason said as he picked it up. He felt something on the other side. Jason flipped it around and laid it on the table.
It seemed like this person was gathering Intel on the biggest crooks in Gotham, he even knew who was "compromised".
"Is that...me?"
There was a picture of Jason that he had never seen before, it was of himself standing on a rooftop.
"I look kinda like Batman" Jason thought for a second.
"I'm coming in" Danny announced. Jason scrambled to put on his helmet but he wasn't able to return the cork board in time.
"Oh no" Danny said setting down the food before he took the cork board he checked it over making sure everything was intact.
"This is just research so I can better understand my patients, It's nothing weird"
Jason put up his hands.
"I don't think it's weird that you have a crock board full of pictures, especially mine. Nope, that not weird"
Danny let out an exhausted laugh.
"Yeah I had to pay for that one, it just reminded me of someone, not that it matters"
"What, did it remind you of Batman?"
"Ha, no. You looked lonely but free, I- know someone who can relate to that"
"Lonely but free" Jason muttered.
"Anyways here" Danny said holding the food out to Jason.
"I hope we never meet again, in a good way"
Jason grinned beneath the helmet.
"I hope we do" he opened the window.
"See you later Doctor" he said waving before leaping gracefully out of the window, food in hand.
"Wait what?" Danny asked.
"Do not!" Danny shouted out the window.
"Do not come back!"
Jason shook his head, there was no way he was going to leave him alone, call it curiosity but Danny wasn't different from most Gothamites.
And he wanted to know more about him. Danny's reluctance to know Jason made him want to get closer even more.
Danny sighed, there was no way he could shake a vigilante off his trail. He just hoped Jason didn't interrupt his work or his research.
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streamondistro · 2 years
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StreamOnDistro invites you to hear the new song by Hank Wedel
Poe Park 2am
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Available on all major streaming platforms
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stairnaheireann · 5 months
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#OTD in 1847 – Letter published in the Cork Examiner.
“SIR– On Friday last, the day for distributing a scanty ration, a large body of those who have been looked upon as “able-bodied,” but who are now in reality infirm from hunger, assembled around the issue-shop, in the vain hope that a few “crumbs” might remain for them. Their hope was vain. Even some of those who were legally entitled to relief, did not get it; owing to the parsimonious economy of…
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vtatters · 7 months
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seat-safety-switch · 6 months
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I've spoken about it many times before, but being a handyperson is a sort of curse. Once you can fix things, then it's hard to give up on fixing things. There are lots of broken objects in my home that would have been better off lining the inside of a dumpster, rather than been blown apart my living quarters for months on end while I traced some ultimately-irredeemable fault that would only fill me with rage when I found it.
Of course, nobody expected that when all the rich people left for the space station, taking capitalism with them, folks down here would just plain ol' stop working. All the factories went dormant as we realized our bosses were powerless without their bosses. Now if something broke, you'd have to come crawling to a local repair person. Can't just go buy something new from the store, where nobody wants to spend their days working so they can show you which box to buy. Nothing on the shelves anyway. Gotta fix what you have. Cruel warlords like myself now held sway over an entire neighbourhood at a time, using our exotic powers of "knowing which way to turn a screwdriver" and "put some grease on it."
Now, I spend all my days fixing other peoples' things, as opposed to before, when I spent all my time fixing my own things. Don't worry, it's not a bad life. I get paid in food, mostly, although some neighbours have offered me now-worthless money and gold bars.
Sometimes I think about heading down to the park, enjoying humanity's first free days since the industrial revolution. Art, poetry, music, free love, hand-churned ice cream: these are all things they took from us. Then I realize that the park rangers expected their sprinkler array fixed a couple weeks ago, and I can't well show my face there if it's still leaking through the improvised cork o-rings I had to make for it.
At night, I look up at the sky and see the exhaust of the space station glowing as it ejects spent rods from the reactor. I think about the mean-time-before-failure statistics of the oxygen scrubber. I wonder if they have anyone good at repairs up there. Probably not, but I'm sure they can tell someone to tell someone to make a new scrubber from the materials they don't have in their superterran prison. More valuable skill, that one.
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sweatervest-obsessed · 9 months
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Dedicated To New Lovers
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)
WC: ~5.5k
TW: Murder, Angst, Character Death, guns, violence, blood, swearing, depression, mentions of disordered eating, mentions of insomnia, self-deprecating thoughts, loneliness, heartbreak, Mentions of Emily's death, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure
A/N: This is based on s8 ep12, Zugzwang. It deviates slightly but still makes Spencer sob so it could basically be canon. Obviously, or maybe not to some people, this fic is based off of Night Shift by Lucy Dacus. It's been my obsession for the past couple weeks and I simply just had to write something for it. Now my one issue is, besides me ignoring editing it, is that I hate when things don't end happily, but I'm breaking out of the mold of everything ending with a nice neat little bow, so please enjoy! (well as much as you can for such a depressing fic lmao).
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"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life alone ---We find it with another." ~Thomas Merton.
“Thank you for such a wonderful night.” You murmured, pulling away from the kiss, hands on their chest. “I really enjoyed it Spe—”, you coughed and blinked a couple of times, catching yourself. “Especially,” You clutched your chest, smiling up at them, “Sorry I don’t know where that just came from.” 
The lips you had just kissed had shifted into a concerned smile, but was none the wiser. 
“Especially dessert. I loved the pie place, you were so right! The apple was just perfectly seasoned, and the crust was still crumbly.” You leaned up and kissed their cheek again. 
“I’ll see you again, yeah?” You whispered, before turning around and heading into your apartment building, not waiting for a response, smile falling the second you weren’t looking at them. You buzzed yourself in and quickly walked up the four flights of stairs towards your door.
You fucking hated pie. Well that wasn’t true, but you didn’t really want to spend your evening going and getting pie with someone you really weren’t that into. 
You couldn’t help but wonder why everything was wrong. They were kind, and sweet, and cared so much for you, but it just wasn’t the same. Your heart was just not in the place, and not a single butterfly fluttered around in your stomach, you couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you.
Well that was a lie too. You knew exactly what was wrong. 
“I’m fine, it’s fine.” You mumbled, getting your keys out and unlocking your front door, grabbing the mail off of the mat, and closing the door behind you. 
The boxes stacked precariously around your place just left you feeling more and more destitute on this island of loneliness. God you were so fucking dramatic. You dumped the roses they had given you, and your purse onto the kitchen counter, and went straight for the fridge, grabbing the bottle of Prosecco. The cork popped, and you took a swig straight from the bottle. 
Your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket, sighing and answering it. 
“Hey Em.” 
“Wow, was it that bad of a date?” Emily laughed a little. She had been concerned about you, the whole team had been concerned about you. Her death had hit you and Spencer the hardest. You had become fast friends with Emily, regardless of the fact that when she joined, you were the youngest, and newest on the team as well. The two of you had become fast friends, and even faster sisters. She was your everything. She was there for your father’s death, the start of your relationship with Spencer, the harder cases, the bitching, the girls nights, the everything. But you had run into the warehouse, and saw Derek cradling her hand, screaming for a medic, and you just lost it. Your brain went into overdrive, rendering you useless. When JJ walked into the waiting room and told all of you the news, you sat there, shocked. Spencer had tried to go see her, but you had just excused yourself and walked out to the parking lot. It was devastating. You were allowed back from leave a week later than everyone else because Hotch knew you needed more time. So when she walked back into the round room, alive and well, your barely pieced together mind completely shattered all over again. 
You watched for seven months as Spencer let you grieve alone while running off to JJ’s house for comfort. You had sat alone in your shared apartment becoming more and more of a shell of a person, not really eating, sleeping, or even drinking water; you were barely existing. Five years of a relationship washed away because that first night, instead of comforting each other, Spencer had abandoned you at the hospital, forgetting to even drive you home. Then, when his headaches got, he pulled even further away, only hearing snippets of how he was doing from those on the team who didn’t even live with him. 
The team could only watch as you slowly became a ghost of yourself, while Spencer couldn’t even give a shit to notice. 
The first time he mentioned Maeve to you, it was like a stake in your chest. You had caught him talking to her when you had come back early from the therapy Hotch had almost threatened you at gunpoint to go to. He quickly hung up the phone and mentioned that she was his doctor, helping him with his headaches. But you knew better. You had heard him laughing before you walked into the apartment. You hadn’t heard him laugh since before Emily had “died”. 
Then, one night, he told you it was over.  I don’t love you anymore. 
You just sat there, chest caving in on yourself. 
Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…
His words bounced around in your head before Emily said your name. “You disappeared on me.” 
“Shit-uh, shit. Sorry Em.” You shook your head, and pinched your brow. “They were really lovely Em, just the best. But I’m just not ready.” 
Emily sighed, “I know it’s only been four months but I’m proud of you, I really am. For even going out in the first place. Want me to come over, bring a new bottle of prosecco.” 
You laughed, but it had no substance. “How’d you know I was almost out of Prosecco.” 
Emily sighed. “I know you’re a grown woman who can handle living alone, but Sergio and I wouldn’t have minded if you stayed with us for a couple more weeks.”  
“And I know that, and I love you so much for it, but the only way I’m ever going to be able to…” the words got stuck in your throat. “I, um. I had to.” 
Emily sighed, but understood. “Okay, well, if you need anything, I’m a phone call away, or a block away, whichever is faster for you.” 
“Thanks Emily. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that you hung up the phone, not wanting to prolong the conversation any more than it had. 
“Fucking Maeve.” You grumbled to the living room before taking another swig from the bottle. You barely slept these days. Your date this past night? The first time you had eaten a full meal in over two weeks. Your skin was a little more gaunt, and the concealer you were using was working overtime to hide the bags under your eyes. You were once someone filled with so much joy, and so much love to give. Everyone knew you were a touchy person, always giving hugs, touching people’s arms, squeezing their hands; if someone tried to touch you now, your whole body would tense up, your stomach would flip. Eventually, after finishing off the bottle, you fell into a restless sleep on the couch of your apartment, since you didn’t want to sleep alone in your own mattress, dreaming about the fact that someone else was probably in the one you bought with Spencer all those years ago when he asked you to live with him.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
The office went silent as you walked into work the next morning. You were always one to arrive early, make your coffee, visit Penelope in the Bat Cave, stop by Hotch and Rossi’s offices and wish them a good morning. But these days you walked through those glass doors exactly at 9 am, unless you were called in. 
It was masochistic to still work at the BAU, but it was one dream you weren’t going to let Spencer take away from you. But as you walked into the bullpen, and all heads turned towards you with such pitiful looks, you doubted whether you belonged here anymore. 
Before you could place your bag down, Aaron walked over to you and quietly asked if you would come into his office. You obliged, a sinking feeling in your gut, as you followed Hotch, while the eyes of everyone else followed you. 
As Hotch opened the door, you froze. Spencer was sitting on the couch, trying to wipe away the tears in his eyes. He clearly also hadn’t been sleeping, but you knew those tears weren’t for you. You stayed in the doorway until Hotch gestured to one of the chairs along the side of his office. You moved away from the door, but stayed standing, refusing to sit down. Hotch closed the door, trapping you in his office with someone you hadn’t spoken more than necessary to in over four months.
“Do you want to tell me why I'm here.” You asked calmly, trying to ignore the desperate man on the couch, who was just staring down at his feet. 
“I am going to ask you to sit out this case.” Hotch looked at you, not sitting down either, ready to calm down whatever fight you’re about to put up. 
Your eyes narrowed at your section chief and you scoffed. “You better have a seriously good explanation Hotch because as I’ve told you many times before, I’m doing fine. I don’t know what has been said, but I’m perfectly capable at—”
“I asked him if you could sit out.” Spencer’s voice was hoarse, but solid as he looked at you. 
You closed your eyes and flexed one of your hands, resisting the urge to punch him in the teeth.
“Since when do you know what’s best for me, Doctor Reid.” It took all of your control to stay civil and not curse him out in front of your boss. 
“That’s not it.” Spencer licked his lips but he quickly averted his gaze. “T-The case. It’s um. It’s about Maeve and I–” 
Your heart dropped. Bile started to rise in your throat. “oh.” You had never felt so small in your life. Tears were forming in your eyes. “I’ll be right…I—” 
You barely even finished the thought before you opened the door, and quickly walked out of Hotch’s office. No one even tried to pretend that they weren’t watching Hotch’s office. Emily and Derek shot up off of their desks and immediately went to follow you as you sped down the stairs and through the bullpen. Hotch just looked down at his feet while Reid just rubbed his hands over his eyes. 
You shoved through the doors, accidentally bumping into Penelope on the way out, causing her to drop the files and coffee mug in her hand. It shattered on the ground, but you couldn’t stop to apologize. You needed to be in the bathroom before you became the agent who threw up all over the halls because of some stupid broken heart. 
Emily had quickly helped Penelope pick things up, the two exchanging hushed whispers and looks. Derek had apologized to Penelope while he ran past, catching up to you with every stride. You shoved open the door to one of the woman’s rooms, Derek right behind you. 
Luckily for you, it was empty, so you could continue running to the biggest stall, before dropping to your knees and throwing up. It burned your throat and your eyes, stinging every inch of skin as it rose up your throat and into the toilet in front of you. 
Derek had pulled back your hair, and was now sitting down next to you as you dry heaved into the toilet. You only threw up actual substance one more time, but it was just that stupid fucking apple pie and the Prosecco from the night before. There was nothing else in your stomach to throw up, so your body settled for making you gag continuously. 
“Fuck.” You cried into the toilet, letting yourself fully devolve into the mess you were destined to become this morning. 
Derek just rubbed your back, “It’s okay pretty girl, let it all out.” 
“Derek Morgan I think I am the ugliest son of a bitch right now.” You mumbled, reaching up and flushing the contents down the drain, tears still racing down your face. “I can’t fucking—” You tried to breathe in but your body was shutting down. That’s all it seemed to do these days. It felt like the only way to protect yourself anymore. “He–”
“I know.” He whispered softly, offering you some toilet paper to let you wipe off your face, as you leaned back, away from the toilet. 
That’s when the first sob wracked your body. Maybe you weren’t meant to be on this team anymore. Spencer had been here longer. You were only an asset to the team because of your positive attitude which left your body the second Emily Prentiss was pronounced dead in that waiting room. You were the definition of useless. I mean, Derek and Emily were partners, Hotch and Rossi had everything down pat, and Spencer, even when you were dating, was truly partnered with JJ most of the time. You were the odd man out, and you were fucking useless. 
Derek had pulled you into his chest, hugging you as the sobs continued. His heart was breaking for you. No one on the team really knew what had happened that night, all they knew was that you didn’t come in one day, and then when you did the next, you looked like shit. All while Spencer seemed fine. Then, when your desk was moved to the opposite side of the bullpen, it confirmed any and all guesses the profilers had been making. You were never paired with him on cases anymore, and if you were, there was always a third person. You barely looked at one another. Spencer’s scarf had reappeared on his desk one morning, and suddenly you were no longer staying in the same hotel rooms. Derek just kissed your head as you let your body give up. 
He wasn’t stupid. Like everyone else, he had noticed the way you had been losing weight. He had noticed the amount of makeup you had started to wear. He even realized that he hadn’t seen you eat any meals with them in the past couple months while they were out on cases. But what he hadn’t fully realized was the fact that you were dead, inside and out. There was nothing left of you but the barely alive body he was holding. 
Spencer had really gotten a good look at you for the first time in a very long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve, and that you had broken up he had broken your heart. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore, he hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”
He just nodded at Spencer. “I know Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation was going to go any better than that.” 
Reid just nodded, and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him, as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 
Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” and with that, Hotch walked past Reid, and down the stairs, out towards where he had assumed you had run off too. 
Spencer just stood on the stairs, watching Hotch walk to you, wishing it could be him to hold you in his arms.
Hotch opened the door to the women’s bathroom, and saw Derek cradling you. As you heard the door open, your body had tensed up and all of your tears had stopped. Derek and Hotch shared a look before Hotch kneeled down. 
“Sorry Aaron.” You mumbled, trying to wipe away the remaining tears on your face. 
“Don't apologize. Take the next couple of days off. Penelope might call and ask you a question or two, if she manages to forgive you for breaking her third favorite coffee mug…” 
You laughed slightly at his joke, trying not to let it cause you to cry even more, wiping away more tears. 
“But I expect you don’t need me to tell you this is an order.” 
You nodded at Hotch while you stood up, Derek quickly following suit. “We’re meeting in ten.” He nodded at Derek, who took the hint. He squeezed your arm, and kissed your head, whispering to call him if you needed anything, before leaving just you and Hotch alone in the bathroom. He held up your purse and gave you a sympathetic smile. 
“I am only a phone call away Y/n. If anything happens, I want to be the first to know.” He nodded at you, only for you to pull him into a hug. Hotch smiled slightly, because you hadn’t really hugged anyone for a while, so he quickly reciprocated before pulling away. “Hotch, can I ask you one more favor?” 
“Anything,” He said softly.
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Once he had left, You grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and tried to wipe as much of the mascara track marks off. You eventually just wiped off your whole face of makeup. You stared at yourself, realizing just how fucked you were. Eventually, you had made your way out of the bathroom, and past the bullpen. Everyone was piling into the conference room, but Spencer had stopped to watch you enter the elevator, really looking at you. You made eye contact right as the doors started to close. Spencer’s gut twisted at the forlorn look on your face. But before he could do anything, the doors were closed, you were gone, and his name was called by Hotch. -------------------------------------------------------------------------
According to the updates from Emily and Derek, the case was not going well. You knew very little about it, and you wanted to keep it this way, but you knew this case wasn’t going to end well. You could just tell. 
You had been existing in your own apartment, making frequent trips to Emily’s to keep your favorite cat company. You would go on long walks as the sun set, nowhere truly in mind, just wandering around trying to think about anything else. You would listen to your music, trying to take your mind off of the man who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you first joined the team. It could have been yesterday based on how well you remembered it. 
But instead of wallowing, you tried to at least wallow in public, resolving to minimize the sheer amount of pity parties you had been throwing yourself.
Three days later, you had been walking around aimlessly, just trying to hit your new goal of 10,000 steps a day to start being active again, when your phone rang. You had answered it without a thought in the world since usually it was Derek, Hotch, and Emily on the other end. 
But this time, it was none of them. 
“Hello?” Spencer’s entire body froze once he heard your voice, once he knew that Diane knew who you were. 
“I just want her to see one more thing.” 
“Hello?” You asked again, just about to hang up, thinking it was some sort of prank call when a woman spoke to you. 
“Is this Doctor Y/N Y/L/N?” Maeve looked over at Spencer, confusion and horror in her eyes, while Spencer just stared at the phone, willing for you to hang up. 
“Um, yes? May I ask who this is…” 
“My name is Diane.” 
“Um, okay, Diane. Can I ask why you’re calling me.” You had just walked into your apartment, Spencer could hear the unfamiliar creek of the door as it slammed shut. 
“What do you know about Doctor Maeve Donovan.” 
Your whole body froze. “What?” barely even whispering out your response. 
“What do you know about Maeve.” Her temper exploded, and you just sat there trying to breathe. 
“Wh-what do you want to know about her?” You had taken several courses in negotiation, taught by David Rossi himself, so your training started to kick in, but your panic was fighting strongly against it. You just couldn't bring yourself to say her name.
The team was outside of the building, when Garcia had called and tapped them into the phone call Diane was making. When they heard your voice, all of them froze. This was not what she was supposed to do. How the hell did she even know about you? 
“I want you to tell me about how she ruined your life.”
Spencer tried to speak but Diane pointed the gun at Maeve, making him go silent. Maeve had started silently crying, unable to believe this is what her life had become. 
“I–, You want me to tell you about some woman I have never met?”
“Yes yes yes. Why won’t any of you fucking listen.” You recieved a text on your watch, from Hotch, briefing you on the fact that Diane had both Spencer and Maeve hostage in the warehouse she was calling from.
You took a shaky inhale before biting your lips. “I want to know that they’re both okay Diane. I need to hear both Spencer and M..Maeve speak.” God this was so fucking hard, it hurt so fucking badly.
Diane rolled her eyes before nodding at Maeve. “H-hi.” She whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t—” she was cut off but the barrel of the gun pushed against her head. 
All you could do was clutch your fist while she spoke, because you realized you couldn’t be angry at her for falling in love with Spencer, because you had too. 
“And Spencer?” Your voice cracked out, desperate to hear his voice. 
“Go on Spencer. Tell her you’ve been okay without her.” 
Spencer winced and spoke up, dying for you to just hang up the phone. “I’m here Y/N.” 
The way he said your name made you want to curl up into a ball and die, but it wasn’t good enough for Diane. 
“Not good enough Spencer. Tell her how you ruined her life. She deserves to hear it from you since you broke her just like you broke me for loving the ONE WOMAN I DESERVED TO BE LOVED BY.” 
Spencer heard the sharp intake of your breath. He could hear you trying not to cry. After everything, he never wanted to hurt you, but clearly he had fucked himself over and over with every single decision he made. He knew you knew he was playing along with her fantasy, but he knew that you hearing these words would ruin your life more than any gunshot would. 
“Tell me Spencer.” You breathed out, knowing if he continued to play along, maybe he could make it out of this alive, regardless of everything that had gone on between the two of you. 
“Please.” Spencer turned to Diane. “She has nothing to do with this, let her hang up the ph–”
“If she hangs up, I shoot Maeve and let you watch as she dies.” 
And there it was. There was a small, awful part of you that wanted to hang up the phone right then and there. Let him suffer and feel the pain you had been feeling for months and months. Your silence was enough to let Spencer know you were struggling, which hurt him even more because that same small part of him knew he deserved it, forgiveness for you and all. 
The team listened to the silence, some of them waiting for the dial tone, others grieving the shit you put yourself through just for someone who didn't love you anymore.
“Would you rather I tell you how he ruined my life, just like he did yours?” You breathed out, finally saying something. The entire SWAT team, along with your team was listening in, everyone was waiting with bated breath to hear--everyone wanted to know.
Prentiss looked over at Hotch. “Hotch we can’t let her do this. It…”
But Hotch just shook his head. “If we hang up the phone, Maeve dies, and if nobody complies with Diana, both Spencer and Maeve die.”
Rossi spoke up. “You have to trust her, she’s negotiating. She’s buying us time. Whether or not we should be listening to this is the real question.” 
All of them went silent after that, a decision had been made. 
Diane’s face twisted into a smile. “I’d love too.” 
You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “D-Do you know what it’s like, Diane, to walk into work every morning and have every single person who promises you they care about you over and over and over again just stare at you like you're some sort of wounded puppy? Watching as they handle you like a glass figurine that they all feel responsible for breaking, and yet the one person who threw you against the wall doesn’t even notice.” 
Diane huffed, but she nodded. ”Keep going.”
“Do you know how long we were together?” 
Spencer couldn’t decide who the question was for. 
“Tell me Spencer. Tell me how many days of her life you threw away just to love someone who you’ve never met before..”
He couldn’t look at Maeve. He couldn’t look at Diane. Your heart had given out right then and there, they had never even met in person. He had fallen in love with a woman he'd never seen before.
“Tell her Spencer.” You voice came out harsher than intended, your resolve was gone, but it made Diane smile even more, becoming comfortable with the taste of venom in your mouth. 
His voice wavered. “Five years, two months, nine days, and three hours.” 
You let out something resembling a controlled sob, which had Diane’s smile growing by the second. Maeve just stared at him, and Spencer couldn’t tell if she was horrified or upset or just sad. 
“You threw away over five years worth of love, to ruin my relationship?” 
“Diane.” You said suddenly, trying to get her attention back off of the two people she was holding hostage. 
“What.” She was starting to become irritated, ancy, waving the gun around more. 
“Want to know the worst part about it.” 
“If you tell it to me quickly because I’m running out of patience Y/N.”
“He’s making me transfer departments.” 
Your big secret was out. 
“What.” Spencer breathed out, the shock spread across his face. He couldn’t imagine the bullpen without you, and when he wasn't on the phone with Maeve, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The days where you weren’t near him went by torturously slow, and all he could do was hope that you might look at him again, let him apologize, let him fix this. Diane watched as the pain flashed across Spencer's face, enjoying it.
The team all turned to Hotch, hoping that she was bluffing. But Hotch just looked down at the ground, confirming the awful truth. 
“I just finished putting in my transfer today.” You didn't know who you were explaining it to–the team, to Diane, or to Spencer, maybe all of them. 
“Being around him, knowing he doesn’t lo—” You went silent for a second before switching gears. “This was my dream.” Your lips started talking, and everyone listened intensely. “I trained specifically for the BAU. I got three Bachelors in worthless shit so that the FBI would spike its interest in me so that I could get into the academy and prove myself to Agent Hotchner. Prove myself to Jason Gideon. Then I went and got a PhD in Psychology with focuses in Trauma and Forensic Sciences. And I fucking loved it. I had finally proven to myself that maybe, just maybe, I was good enough. I finally found a place I belonged, with the people I belonged with. And I was so fucking good at my job Diane. You wouldn’t even comprehend it. But he took all of it from me. Every last bit of joy was sucked out of my body the minute he told me he didn’t love me anymore. The minute he didn’t even apologize for breaking my heart and ruining everything I worked so hard for. And then he still expected me to be at my best, getting pissed when I would be distracted, disrespecting me and my intelligence in front of our peers, our friends. He neglected our relationship, abandoning me when I needed him the most, and then expected me to love him all the same. The audacity is through the fucking roof.” 
Spencer was just staring at the phone, heart beating loudly in his chest. “And the honest to god truth Diane, the worst part of it all, I would forgive him in a heartbeat. I don’t even know why I would, I feel no fucking reason to forgive him, but I might as well. If he asked me to greet him on the tarmac and kiss him once this case is over and he survives, I might, just so I can remember how it felt to be loved. He barely noticed that I had stopped eating, or didn’t care enough to say anything. He didn't do shit when I would show up half an hour late to the jet because I was so exhausted that I fell asleep at my desk, because I haven’t slept in months. He just doesn’t care anymore and I’d rather die than step foot into Quantico again because losing him was already too much to fucking bare. I’d rather never see him ever again, if I can help it.” 
You exhaled, feeling the slightest weight off of your chest, but your words were calculated. The end of your rant held some truth to it, both you and Spencer knew that, but something about the last line of what you had said was bugging Emily. 
She turned to Hotch. “Rossi is right, she’s stalling.” 
“But?” JJ asked her, looking at the building, before looking back at Emily. 
“She’s trying to get Diane to shoot Spencer to save Maeve.” 
Just as the entire team realized this, they heard Spencer’s voice, steady and unwavering. “I told her not to come on this case because I knew she would have slowed us down.” 
Your brain shortcircuited as a hand came up to cover up your sob. Not because what he said was the truth but because Spencer knew what you were doing, and he was trying to do the same thing.
“She’s been useless ever since our friend was killed during a case almost two years ago. She’s barely intelligent, and all she does for this team, truly, is parade around with a positive attitude that gets on on everyone else's nerves because she could never put as much effort into anything as you clearly have.” 
Diane walked over to him, squatting down in front of him. “I want to hear you say it to her Spencer.”
Your mouth betrayed you as a soft whimper came through the phone. Spencer didn't mean all of this, he couldn't have, but hearing the words still burned you alive.
“I-I…You slow this team down, and I have always thought you were a waste of space. I never loved you…” And if it wasn't for the slight change in pitch right as he said never, Diane would have believed him, but she pulled away glaring at Spencer. 
“Liar.” She hissed at him. “Liar, Liar, LIAR.” 
All you could hear through the phone was a muffled struggle before a shot rang out. You heard a second one and heard Spencer land near the phone. You couldn’t make a single sound, conjuring up the worst scenarios in your head. You could hear him trying to negotiate with Diane. You could hear Maeve struggling to breathe. You heard him begging to take her place, you heard Diane screaming about Thomas Merton. 
You heard Spencer scream out wait before a gun shot rang out through the warehouse. Everyone was silent, for all you knew Spencer was dead. He had been shot agasin and killed, and the last thing you would have ever said to him was that you never wanted to see him again. But then, you heard Spencer start sobbing. The small twisted part of you came back and was so relieved that he was okay, that he was alive. But listening to the man you would die for cry over another woman’s body made your skin turn inside out. You had out your phone on speaker for your rant, leaving it on the counter. You reached for it, ready to hang up. But that’s when you heard your name. 
Spencer had sobbed your name. 
He scrambled over to the phone and frantically repeated your name over and over until you interrupted him. 
“Spencer.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He whispered, sitting against the wall unable to look at the bodies on the floor. "I didn't...I didn't mean any of it, I swear."
“Spencer. I–” You inhaled sharply. “It’s selfish but I’m glad you’re still alive.” You whispered out, causing Spencer to let out another sob. 
"Y/N I-I'm so sorry. I-Can you..."
“I-I can’t do this Spence. I’m so sorry.” You whispered, your heart shattering all over again. “I can’t….I’m sorry.” And with that, you hung up, leaving Spencer on the floor, heartbroken and sobbing, truly losing both women he had ever loved in the matter of seconds. 
"You will never know true pain until you look into the eyes of someone you love, and they look away." ~ Anonymous
Next Part
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harryslittlefreakk · 17 days
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a corner of the heath
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late night talking series extra!
summary: y/n and harry’s first ‘official’ date following his wembley shows
warnings: fluff, smut (unprotected public sex & foreplay)
wordcount: 2k
a/n: i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long but here it is! i have two more extras planned for LNT and then we’re done <3 i can’t believe all the love on this series thank you all SO much for continuing to read and enjoy it
you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here! 🫶🏼 happy reading
“Come on, come on, come on!” You’d been trying to get through to Joanie’s phone for at least five minutes now. She had the perfect dress for you to wear, and all you had were concert outfits stained from cheap feather boas.
“Hello? Are you okay?” Joanie’s voice suddenly sounded from the other end of the phone.
“No, I’m not okay! I have a date and I need your white dress. Please please please with a cherry on top,” you babbled, setting your phone down on the counter top. “God I look like death,” you groaned, wiping your hands down your face.
“A date with Harry?!” Joanie squealed.
“Yeeeees and I might not get another one without your dress.”
“Do you want me to bring it to you? Do you need makeup? Hair stuff? Oh please let me stay while you get ready.”
“Yes for bringing it to me please, no for the other stuff, a million times yes for staying,” you laughed, Joanie’s infectious excitement starting to rub off on you. Truthfully, you dreaded the day that you stopped being nervous to see Harry. Just hearing his name gave you a rush of anxious butterflies, your heart rate quickening at the mere thought of him. It had sent you into a week-long spin, but it was a rollercoaster you never wanted to stop riding.
“You look so beautiful,” Joanie cooed, smoothing out the skirt of your white minidress. “Stop, you’re like my mum,” you laughed, swatting her hands away.
“Let me come with you,” she pleaded, holding up her hands in prayer. “No.”
“Please please please! It’s on my way home. I don’t even have to be with you. I’ll just look from afar and then I’ll go,” Joanie continued, a hopeful grin plastered on her face.
“He does want to meet you,” you smiled. “Fine. You can say hello and then you’re leaving - and don’t be weird. Please don’t be weird.” You held out your little finger for a pinky promise. Joanie hooked hers around yours, throwing her arms around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Hi, little darling,” Harry smiled when he saw you approaching, a picnic basket hanging from one of his hands. He looked delicious, a white t-shirt and linen slacks loose on his toned body. He wrapped you in a tight hug, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You look incredible,” he whispered against your skin.
When what sounded like an excited mouse squeaked from behind you, he pried his eyes from your figure to peer at your tag along. “You must be the famous Joanie,” Harry grinned, throwing an arm around her. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Joanie was bouncing on her heels silently, her grin so big it threatened to split her face in two. She started nodding like a bobble head, finally bringing herself to say hello. You shook your head, laughing as you grabbed her hand. “I’ll speak to you later, okay? Get home safe. Say hi to Tom from me.” She was still nodding and grinning as she walked away, waving mindlessly to you and Harry as you giggled.
“You are a vision,” you told Harry as you turned to him, taking his hand in yours. Harry's eyes sparkled with warmth as he gazed at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "And you are a dream," he replied, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. The sun was shining, casting a golden glow around the two of you as you stood in the park, surrounded by the sounds of nature and the distant hum of city life.
With a playful glint in his eyes, Harry reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a bottle of champagne, pulling out the cork with a satisfying pop. He poured the bubbly liquid into two glasses, handing one to you with a wink. "To our first date," he grinned, raising his glass in a toast.
You clinked your glass against his, the sweet taste of champagne dancing on your tongue. As you settled down on the picnic blanket, he held a hand under your chin, pulling your face closer to him. “Y’so beautiful, can’t get over it,” he cooed, planting 6 lingering kisses to your lips. “One for every day,” he whispered against your smile.
“Sorry about Joanie,” you cringed, screwing up your face as you thought back to her reaction to meeting him. “She’s cute,” he laughed. “I can see why you get along.”
“What do you mean? I’m way cooler than she is. Didn’t even bat an eye when I met you,” you teased.
“That’s what you think,” Harry chuckled, pulling you back into his body until your back rested against your chest. “I saw your jaw go when you clocked me.”
“Oh yeah? That’s why you took me home. Stroked your ego,” you smirked, staring out across the park.
“Oh yes. Exactly that. It’s so rare that I get to meet anyone who knows who I am.” Harry poked at your cheek playfully, the two of you settling into a comfortable silence, stray giggles escaping every few minutes.
“Do you not think it’s insane?” you asked Harry after a while, tilting your head back to look up at him. “What?”
“If neither of us had gone to that Starbucks, or even at different times, or you never needed that napkin, we’d never have met.”
Harry laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. “I never needed a napkin. Jus’ wanted to talk to you,” he confessed, a coy smirk playing on his lips. You gasped, mouth falling open as you swatted at his leg. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Couldn’t think of anything else to say,” Harry told you, his fingertips drawing patterns on your inner thigh. You leaned further back into him, a warm blush creeping up your cheeks as something buzzed inside of you. The Harry Styles, your ultimate celeb crush, had pondered over what to say to you. And now you were sitting here on your first date after a week of incredible sex and cuddles with him. If someone had come back from the future and told you all this, you’d have laughed them out the room. But it was true, it was real.
“What you thinking about?” Harry asked, his voice soft. “You,” you grinned. “Just so crazy, all of this.”
“Mhmm, I‘m crazy about you.” His fingers were trailing further up your dress, still tracing mindless patterns as he got closer to your centre. You uncrossed your legs slightly, breath catching in your throat at the thought of Harry touching you here, where anyone could see you. If it wasn’t for the wine and the high that came from his presence, you’d have clamped your legs shut and refused him entry. You’d made a silent promise to yourself to try not to sleep with Harry and treat your first date like it was the first time you’d met him. But he just did something to you, and you couldn’t resist catering to his every need.
“Gonna let daddy show you how crazy he is about you?” Harry asked, his voice suddenly low and husky.
You pulled the spare blanket he’d bought over your legs to maintain at least some decency as he pulled your panties to the side, his fingertips finding your clit with ease. Harry always navigated your body as if he’d known it in a previous life, as if it were the only body he’d ever touched. He knew your wants and needs even before you realised them, always one step ahead of you.
He pulled you back into him, his lips trailing soft kisses along your neck. His fingers worked into you, the angle pushing his palm against your sensitive clit. You were writhing under his touch, soft pants slipping past your lips. “Got to be quiet, angel,” Harry whispered against your skin, nipping at your neck. His fingers fucked into you faster, one hand wrapping around your throat to quiet you as heat spreads throughout your body. “Baby,” you whimpered softly, your hand clenching around his wrist as it moved against your pussy, the friction against your clit almost too much to take. It was warm under the afternoon sun, but the heat spreading between your legs was almost enough to burn you alive. Beads of sweat formed on your chest, your skin becoming sticky in Harry’s grip, as you tried desperately to keep your moans in.
“Want more, Harry,” you moaned, pulling his hand away. The way he could fuck you was both a blessing and a curse. His hands and mouth worked wonders, but his cock had you shaking and coming around him in minutes. If you had to choose between the two, you’d choose his cock all day long. Harry chuckled, watching as you turned around and straddled his thighs. He pressed his two glistening fingers to your lips, silently urging you to have a taste of your juices. You sucked them into your mouth, a tiny moan vibrating in your throat as your tongue licked him clean.
“Got to stay quiet now, okay kitten?” he warned, fiddling with the button on his slacks. You nodded, fluffing out the skirt of your dress as he lined himself up with your entrance, his rock hard tip already angry and red. Sex had never been a huge thing for you in relationships, and you’d certainly never been fucked as often as you had in the last week. But it was like being on a different planet with Harry, like you existed in a different reality with your needs and desires laid out before you. He was as hungry for you as you were for him, lust and yearning held in his gaze whenever he was around you.
Harry slipped into you easily, his girth no more at home than when it was nestled against your g-spot. He started guiding you with a firm hold on your hips, his mouth falling open every time you rolled against him. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. If anyone saw, they’d know what you were doing in seconds. But neither of you could bring yourself to care, not with the ecstasy of your bodies connected again.
His hips rutted as you locked eyes with him, your lashes fluttering as his groin rubbed against your clit. Spurred on by your choked moan, Harry held you a few inches over his cock, his finger tips digging in to the meat of your ass. He was drilling up into you, your head falling against his shoulder as you tried to hold yourself together a little while longer. “I’m not gonna last-” you panted, feeling the familiar burn spreading through your core.
“Come for me baby, let it all out,” Harry whispered into your ear. “Gonna do that f’me?”
“Yeah,” you whined, hips rolling against his in desperation to reach your climax. But his movements ceased, his cock stilling inside of you as his hand came up to clutch at your throat.
“Yes what?” Harry asked, dark eyes locked onto yours.
“Yes daddy,” you panted, pawing at the collar of his shirt. His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as his movements resumed, his cock drilling into you with a power he’d been holding back before.
Your clit was throbbing, entrance on fire as he pounded into you, driven by a purpose now. It took one final thrust to tip you over the edge, your mouth hanging open as you mewled into Harry’s tanned skin. “Fuck, kitten,” he panted, cock twitching at your core as your walls constricted, milking him for all he had. His come was like a comfort to you at this point, a feeling you were so used to and so in love with.
You sat up on your knees and waited to him to make himself decent, cringing as your soaked panties slipped back across your entrance. When you heard his flies zip back up, you stepped off him, throwing yourself down flat onto the blanket, chest still heaving.
Harry mirrored you, his fingers finding yours as his eyes wandered over to your face. “M’gonna say it over and over - y’are completely and utterly perfect.”
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