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erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

Text

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

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moonchild-in-blue · 1 year ago

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Ohh, this is nice! Brb I'll be wiping my tears 🥺💔 Thank you for this wonderful question!

(tw: depression; implied sh/suicidal thoughts)

Alright, so. I heard about them earlier this year when The Summoning came out. I had seen their name pop-up a few times before (when they toured with Issues back in 2019) but knew absolutely nothing about them and payed no mind (still beating myself up for it).

There is this one account on Instagram (also TT but I don't use/have) that kept popping up on my discover page. I never interacted with his content, nor had any interest, but every few weeks his reels would show up and he often used the Sexy Funky Part™ on them. The comments were always crazy over it, but again, I payed no attention.

Until the 3rd of June (I have the date on my journal). That day I woke up with that section on my head, and I finally decided to look it up. And oh. My. God. I heard it once, twice, three times. Then I listened to TMBTE (the song). Then Chokehold. CHOKEHOLD. Listened to The Summoning again. Decided that, okay, I need to listen to this album, who are these guys?? Listened once, twice. Looked them up. Oh, they're anonymous? Oh, there's lore?? Oh, there's masks??? Oh, oh, oh-

And so it began. About a week later I posted here, saying that I needed someone to talk to me about them, not really expecting to see any replies - I was mostly venting since I had no one else irl to talk about them. To my surprise, so, so many wonder people actually reached out to me. It was so heart warming. For the first time in a very long time, I felt genuinely part of a community. Not just as a spectator, but as someone actively in it. Everybody was (and still are!) so welcoming and friendly, it's great.

(if any of my moots reads this, I'm sending you a billion hugs and kissies and wonky heart signs 🥺💖)

Now, for context. I have been in the metal/emo/alt scene since I was around 11/12. It's always been my main music, and the reason why I'm still alive and standing today. About 7 years ago, when I moved away for uni, I coincidently started to get super into kpop, which then led me to embrace many other genres, like r&b and hip-hop (my 14yo self would call me a normie if she knew I was obsessed with Tyler the Creator).

For several reasons, I stepped back a little on the heavier side of music. I had a really bad depressive episode in 2018, and I was scared I'd go back to old habits. I needed to break my usual "listens to sad music to cope" cycle, because during that particular time, I was in very real danger of hurting myself again. Things got better, and I still listened to my old stuff, but with a much broader range added. I shifted my focus, and what was once an overwhelming presence in my life, became just one more thing. I changed and silenced many parts of myself. Some for the better, some because they were necessary to survive.

Fast forward to late 2021. I moved back home after graduation, as I needed some time to heal. My mental health had been wrecked beyond recognition during the pandemic, and as an art student, I was experiencing extreme burn-out. In a way, I still am. I went to painting and being in a studio everyday, to completely stop creating. Even just simple sketches were a huge task for me. I stopped writing my poetry, my stories. In the last year, I may have picked up a paintbrush twice.

I was glad to be back, but started to feel so left behind, as if time had moved a much slower pace to me than to everyone else. Somehow, three of my closest friends got married within months of each other. Others were finishing degrees, getting Big Jobs, moving in with partners. Me? I was back to living with my parents. I was taking driving lessons - something most of them had been doing for years. I had left 5 years ago, with plans and hopes and expectations, and came back absolutely broken, nothing but a shell of a person that no longer existed.

I was lost. I spent so much time not knowing what to do, or where to go. I had plans post-grad, but everything seemed impossible to achieve. I had 0 motivation, 0 energy. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I had forgotten about who I was.

But when I got into Sleep Token, something inside me clicked. It was as if their music took all the scattered fragments of me and glued them back together. For the first time in a very, very long time, I was so excited for something. The music was so unlike anything I had ever heard. Every cell of my being glowed and vibrated with each new song, each element. The lore was so interesting to study, the people here were wonderful to interact with. The words, his voice, everything - it was like I had woken up from a very long, hazy dream.

Thanks to them, I began writing again. Lore and lyric analysis, fanfiction, my own personal things, you name it. I have just picked up painting and I'm so happy to be creating again. Thanks to them, I've connected and met so many wonderful people here. It may sound silly, but I'm genuinely having so much fun these days in here.

Also thanks to them, I've re-kindled my love for my older music/bands, and I feel like myself again. I can't say I'm 100% okay, as I'm very much not, but I at least have the strength to face and accept that things are not okay, instead of bottling it up. I spent so long trying to adapt and survive the next thing, and the next thing, and the next thing, that I ended up abandoning who I was.

I don't know if this will make much sense or not but, yeah. Listening to Sleep Token has allowed me to connect with parts of me I thought were gone, while still allowing me to confront and make piece with my struggles. I think Euclid is a very fitting description of all the changes ST has brought in me. It's accepting reality for what it is, and knowing that, even though there are still things that linger, there is more to life. To myself. There is more than wallowing in grief or staying stagnant - and I am deserving and capable of that.

Like Vessel once said, "We are here to remember. We are here to forget. We are here to worship". Above all, I think Sleep Token's music is defined by connection, by shared experiences. Be it through the music, the lyrics, the band/Vessel, something about it allows us to connect with ourselves and with each other. And I think that's what I was missing - the ability to make a meaningful connection to something/myself.

By now, the night belongs to you

This bough was broken through

I must be someone new

How did you find out about Sleep Token and how have they changed your life?

Even if it's the smallest of changes,it still matters. I'd love to hear everyone's stories.

#Well this was... Fun. Hard. Therapeutic.#thank you op for prompting this discussion #a huge hug to everyone in the st family - you guys are incredible and amazing and i feek very fortunate to be a part of it #i know they will never ever read this but i'm so thankful to st for existing #and vessel in particular for creating such incredible music and sharing his life and mind with us #sleep token #darya is unhinged #darya talks to herself

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dxrkdreamer · 3 years ago

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Not So Bad

Modern Sukuna x Reader

Working late had been the bane of your existence, only getting worse when a certain man started showing up to your store’s parking lot to light his joints.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ implied sex, mentions of weed.

(A/N: should I make a part 2? It seems pretty popular

Couldn’t come up with a name for the store so I used Anavrin from ‘YOU’)

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“11:00 pm? Again?” you rubbed the back of your head trying to hide your frustration, the store manager nodded his head, sighing you agreed to stay late at work again since the closer frankly did not want to stay. So now here you are grumbling as you finish sweeping the floor and checking it off your log. You worked at a high end grocery store named Anavrin, a store that swore to sell organic produce and products to the best of quality. You took up a job here in your senior year of high school, planning on working for a few months to save up for college. And yet… 4 years later you’re still here grumbling at the extra hours you had taken. After your second year of working you had a promotion to supervisor… woo hoo!!... but it turned out it was more responsibility than expected. But it paid a little more and you could not argue with that.

‘I should be a little more optimistic, I’m graduating uni this year’ you’d tell yourself anytime you wanted to pull your hair out because of your measly job. You finished turning off the lights and locking the door, sighing as you felt the cold fall air hit your tired face, taking a deep breath of fresh air… wait a second “Who the fuck is smoking weed!” you yelled in a girly voice, as if this day was not long enough. Since you were in charge of a proper closing you marched off towards a tall man leaning against the back of the store, laughing and conversing on his phone. It was a little nostalgic, you remembered your highschool days, sneaking around and smoking pot in strange places. But he was not as young as a teenager, in fact his build made him look older than you.

“Hey! I’m going to ask you to leave, this is a smoke free property” You tried saying sternly gesturing to the sign right above them that read “no smoking” in bold letters. But your short stature compared to the man made you look like a kid waving your arms around attempting a snake dance.

“What on earth is this?” a man with pink hair and face tattoos said “I’m so scared, I should be so ashamed for not reading the sign” he cackled as he pressed the joint to his lips and inhaled again. “My apologies”

He did not look sorry at all.

“Look, I’ve had a long day. I’d like to go home so please go to a proper location or I’ll-” but you’re cut off with the joint stuffed to your pretty lips.

“You’ll what cutie?” he smirked as you stared at him dumbfounded, the joint stuck to your lip as you tried to figure out a reaction. But the man was already on his way towards his motorbike. Of course he had a motorbike. “First one’s always free darling, next time I’ll charge ya” he winked as he put his helmet on and sped off.

“Mother fucker” you swore and banged your head against the brick wall. ‘Never am I staying late again’ you groaned. You walked to your car, but not without tucking the joint safely in your pocket for when you got back home.

---

And that was your first of many nightly encounters with the pink haired man. You were not surprised to see him anymore in the parking lot, either smoking, laughing with friends or just sitting on his bike staring at his phone. You learned his name was Sukuna… you had asked for it during the nth time you threatened to call the cops. You also learned he sold weed to the store manager, so he pretty much had a free pass on smoking here.

“Working late again (name)? My, they must pay you a lot for you to stay here.” he smirked, watching you with grinning eyes. Your annoyance shot up at the mention of your little over minimum wage pay. They definitely were not paying you enough for the store, but giving you a delinquent like this guy… you had written your resignation letter a few times after his nightly visits. You ignored him as you walked to your car, heavy footsteps followed “I brought ya a little something” He grinned handing you a baggy with a cookie “It’s on the house, made ‘em myself”. Eyes narrowed as you tilted your head up to glare at him, but realized you were a lot closer than you expected. You could hear him breathe, feel the heat off his body and smell the spicy cologne he was wearing as you breathed a little too loudly trying to inhale the scent. “Not today darling, that package is for another date” he winked.

Oh my God.

What have you done? Sure he was hot and you didn’t mind the view, but his mouth made up for that. He was like an evil version of a talking cat. Opening his mouth to smite you, prideful like one and given the opportunity would sit on your face if you were lying down. Wait what?

“I’m not interested in you like that!” you squeeked.

He tilts his head to the side, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “Then how are you interested in me?”

“I’m not interested unless you’re a customer, or an employee here or something!” Frustrated, you grabbed the zip loc with the cookie in it “And I’ll be confiscating this!”

“Sure thing, I made it just for you. It's a special recipe”

“I’ll let the cops know!” you yelled getting in your car, throwing the cookie on the passengers side as you sped home for the night.

“So if I was an employee…or something...” he wondered gazing at the stars, his thoughts frenzying around as his mind came up with the most brilliant idea. Cackling loudly “you’ve really outdone yourself this time me.” Laughing as he got on his bike, speeding towards his apartment.

---

“A new employee?” You mused, It was pretty hectic at work recently, one of your employee’s had quit and they finally found a replacement “I wonder what they’re like”. You asked yourself as you prepared a training checklist to go over, making sure to not make it too hard on the new guy- you heard it was his first job after all. “Hello! And welcome to the Anavrin family!” you say smiling with closed eyes, as you open them your mouth went agape. ‘What the….’ had the demon cat from the parking lot shrunk and gotten more youthful?

“Hi, I’m Yuji Itadori. You must be my brother Sukuna’s friend. He said to write your name down as someone who referred me to the job”

Chuckling nervously with the clipboard in hand you checked off the box for introductions “I’m (name) the grocery supervisor, and you would be working under me mostly.” Friends with Sukuna? Cutting your wrists open and watching them bleed sounded like the better option.

As the shift progressed Yuji showed you he was the complete opposite of his older brother. Always finishing his tasks, being kind and sweet. Everyone else loved him too, just on the first day. He was stocking milk and eggs the way you had shown him, one of the last tasks of the night. The crowd of customers thinned out as it got late and the store was closer to its closing time. You watched to make sure he was doing them correctly and if he needed any help. ‘This wasn’t so bad’ you thought, closing your eyes and leaning back.

“So how’s my little brother been (name)?”

Your eyes shot open at that voice God no please. “He’s been amazing, but you can’t just put my name as a referral without asking me-” There stood a tall Sukuna in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled back, probably coming after finishing his day job. Majority of his tattoos were covered except the lines on his wrists that were exposed, making you gulp inaudibly. Suddenly feeling underdressed in your uniform’s polo shirt and measly work pants and sweater as you stared up at his glory.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do what?” he smirked. Mentally praising himself as his plan got into action. He couldn’t lie, (name) was interesting. Always yelling at him, cursing him and swearing that she would murder him if it was the purge. His usual charm not working gave him more of a challenge. Not to mention the way she was kind to younger brother made his heart swell a little.

The annoyance returned once you saw his shit eating grin “You can’t write my name down without asking me!”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the intercom went off, notifying everyone that the store was now closed and any remaining customers should bring their purchases to the front to pay for them.

“Yuji you can go home now, I’ll put this away and start heading out myself” you say massaging your temples with your fingers.

“See you soon (name).” Sukuna winked as he walked towards the exit, waving behind at you as he went outside to wait for his brother.

---

Unfortunately soon had never come… at least not for the last 3 weeks. Making you miss the tall man in more ways than one. Maybe he wasn't so bad now that you thought about it. The usual nightly teasing might make you seethe but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t laugh about it later in your car. Somehow his laid backness and mocking smile made your night light up a little. And the weed that you would “confiscate” really did help you unwind after a long shift.

“Maybe it was because he saw me in my uniform” you grumbled. That had to be it. You weren’t a sore look on the eyes. Right? But compared to him… you hissed as you felt your lower half heat up and tremble at the thought of the man. “Well it's only 11:00 pm… and my first class is at 9:30 am… and then I have work at the 4:00.” Debating your options…. ‘This is why I’m probably so grumpy all the time, I think too much’

“And probably need to get laid” you said aloud. Living alone did have its perks, no one could call you crazy for talking to yourself. Your friends always nagged you about your dry spell too, but one night stands weren’t really fun to you anymore. They were too shallow and you always found yourself feeling more frustrated by them than relaxed.

Quickly rummaging through your drawer, you found your lovely device and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you fell on the bed and groaned. Your mind was wild as you thought dirty little things about the man. Your eyes rolled back and you felt little whines erupt from your throat as you imagined him on top of you with his signature smirk, choking you and teasing you, calling you terrible names and whispering dirty things in your ear.

But as quickly as you heated up, the device buzzed and suddenly stopped. Too hazy to think straight you tried turning it on and off again, soon realizing it was the battery that was dead. “For fucks sake” you threw the vibrator and it hit the wall and fell with a loud thud. Good. Pulling your covers up, scowling as you shut your eyes to sleep.

The next day only went further downhill. Your lecture was long and uneventful, you forgot there was a guest speaker instead of the usual prof, most of the class skipped anyways so you sat alone and pretended to be interested. And as you went home from campus, your car broke down on the way leaving you stranded in the heat as you waited for the tow truck. You really just wanted to buy some batteries and get some time to yourself before work. But life had another thing planned once you got home, you only left with half an hour before you had to leave for work. Which barely gave you enough time to shower, change into an excuse of an outfit, grab your uniform and run out the door. You heard a few whistles as you ran to the bus stop, most likely because of the skimpy outfit which was pretty much just a long t-shirt made into a dress with stockings. But this was not the time to be picking fights.

Work was more mundane as ever. Emptying, stocking, organizing and talking was all that seemed to happen. You frowned for the nth time in the day when you saw Yuji was not scheduled to work today and you remembered him mentioning that he was going somewhere with friends for the next two days. The boy could always turn a bad day around. He was a blessing to the department and the store as a whole. The long day finally came to an end and the weekend awaited. Stuffing your uniform in your bag as you walked out you saw a familiar motorbike and a man leaning against it getting ready to light a joint.

You didn’t think, all you could hear were your footsteps smacking against the pavement as you ran to the man. Blood rushed to your head as you slowed down, stopping barely an inch away from him. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt and most important, that smirk.

“I didn’t realize you missed me this much darling, otherwise-” but he was cut short as your hands gripped his head and pulled him down to your lips for a not so innocent kiss. You had to admit, you liked the guy. But as he responded by deepening the kiss and sliding his wet tongue into your mouth to taste you, you realized you wanted more of him. And you found yourself in his apartment, stripped down with his face buried between your legs as you came down from your second orgasm. Him licking you clean and not missing a single bit.

“When” you panted “when is Yuuji-” but he shushed you by gagging his fingers deep in your throat.

“Not until Sunday at least” he smiled with a sinister look, your wetness coating his lips “we have the whole weekend darling” He had waited almost two months for this so he was definitely going to take his time and relish the next few days. How could he not? You were beautiful with a fiery personality, and that showed by the ways you disobeyed him on his bed to get a reaction. It seemed the roles were reversed, but this time there would be consequences. For you at least.

He was relentless but you were no pussy and would not back down either. Both of you with fire and heat taking over your bodies as you brought spark and life into the night, wanting to explore every bit of each other, not stopping until you noticed the sun starting to rise causing exhaustion to take over.

He had let you stay to sleep in, provided you with a clean shirt to wear and even made breakfast for you. Presented you with a “gourmet plate of eggo waffles with the finest Aunt Jemimah maple syrup” he said which earned him a giggle from your pretty lips.

“I can make pretty good waffles from scratch” you told him proudly, puffing out your chest in pride. But these were special to you, the whole moment was special.

“I intend on trying them,” he spoke after a moment. He thought it was out of character for him to ask for a relationship but he wanted to be with you more than just a few times. And wanted more of you in different ways. He wouldn’t get his brother involved if it was a casual fuck relationship that he wanted. Which reminded him he owed the brat 50 bucks.

“Maybe you should come over sometime” you smiled sweetly, blushing a bit.

“I’d like to see you more, take out and get to know you” he said, interrupting your invitation.

“I’d like that too.” you said smiling.

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #reader inser #ryomen sukuna #yuuji itadori #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fic #sukuna imagine

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exodusmc · 3 years ago

Text

Poison and sweetness

Genre: smut, enemies to slight lovers au, royal au

Words: 3607

Paring: Prince Taehyung x Princess reader(female)

Warning!: Hinting to poisoning, swearing and use of degrading words, hinting to forced marriage at a young age, fingering, marking, unprotected rough sex, light breatsplay, dirty talk(filthy), pet names, teasing, sucking on fingers, smirking??, Tae being big...

a/n: Sorry that I have been gone for a long while, hehe, and I don’t think I will be posting regularly yet unfortunately. I have had a dry period with no motivation and I started uni not too long ago. I’ll post if I get ideas(and finish them hahaha), but I’ll try to update Insider more! Thank you everyone and I hope you understand!

Gif is not mine!

Taehyung had this black hair you only associated with the western kingdom. Strands so dark that they could become one but there were blues streaks in them whenever the sun shone, almost like the night sky during the day. His eyes had been mischievous, dripping in blue water and his few moles became stars. The young prince was a sight to be seen but he was a jokester and everything would end bad for you when he visited. However, his last time in your palace was years ago.

There was a ball being prepared in your honor since you had turned twenty recently and it would be the first time in forever you would see him, that is if he showed up. Bad blood wasn't the words you would use to describe the feeling between your familes but things weren't as good as they once had been. Your father, the king of Rosen gard, had turned down a request from Taehyung’s father. What, you did not know, but rumors spread like wildfire in the palace and you soon guessed that it was marriage which was proposed. Your father said no, the western king got mad, seeing as an insult that his oldest son wasn't viewed as the best sutor for you. You didn't care now, it was history and you were frankly glad to be free from arranged marriages, enjoying the attention everyone gave you anytime you walked outside your room. But time had passed and your mother slowly started pushing you to find someone, her eyes scared every time you said that it wasn't that urgent. She may have married your father at the mere age of 14 but you were the crown princes, not a daughter of a duke. You were the one who would rule this kingdom, not the man you married.

“I want a dress so beautiful everyone will be jealous..”your smile was like a cat, eyes sparkling as the tailor wrote down everything. He had an important task at hand and if he didn't succeed, you could have his head.”Light blue satin and a cloudy feeling...make sure it flatters my figure..”

The bed you laid in was big enough for ten people, silk sheets flowing around you. Your hair was neatly tucked in a protective style, it would soon be decorated by jewels and riches only your family wore.

“Yes, crown princess. I will do everything in my power to make the best dress for a royal like you..”he bowed deeply, scurrying away like a rat so he wouldn't make a mistake. It made you laugh.

Your lady in waiting stood quietly though the whole ordeal, sweat forming on her forehead. If she took one wrong step, you would lash out at her and she was afraid to anger you now.

“Angelin…”her eyes flew up from the ground, the fast yes crown princess tumbling over her light lips.” Have you found out what I asked of you?”

She shook in her place, fingers squeezing hard at the red fabric of her skirt. She was a good lady in waiting, one of the best and you actually liked her. You had pardoned her more than you would anyone else.

“I have asked around and from what I understand...he will come. The invitation was answered and rumors say that a royal carriage has been prepared in the western kingdom..”

Your smile widened, stretching from ear to ear. Finally, you could get back at him, that son of a bitch who thought he was so high in the world.

“Thank you Angelin, please tell me if something else comes up, okay?”

“Yes, crown princess..”you stared at her for a while, eyes trailing her fragile form. Angelin was pretty, on the tinier side but she still carried her body nicely.

“Angelin, refer to me as queen when we are alone.” her dark eyes widened, a reaction you weren't surprised of.

“Yes...my queen”

“My beautiful daughter, so strong and shining, just like our rising sun.” your father roared, smiling so kindly as he watched his only child bow before him.

“Thank you, father.” the throne room was decorated to a lavish extent. Two thrones towered before a glass window where roses were painted. Your mother smiled unsurely, hands in her lap but you could see the slight shake in them. She always disgusted you, so weak, like a glass encased mirror.

“I’m so happy for you, my daughter. I couldn't have asked for a better heir.” your father sat down again, the pig-like statue of his body falling over the brown belt to his clothing. Your parents were old, using borrowed time, and you were waiting for the right time to overtake them, like you were destined to.

“Thank you father, I’m so proud to be your child, the child of the great king and queen.” lies, only lies.

“Do you believe you will find a suitor this ball? your mother’s voice was high, annoying you more than you wanted to admit. Such a broken little doll with a destiny to fail. She was everything you never wanted to be.

“Oh, dear mother, I do not know yet but I hope so your worries will cease to exist..”venom dripped through your sugary voice. Hate, you felt hate for the two people before you, the pig and the nightingale.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure you will find someone who will be right for you...someone you can love and give everything to.”your father smiled, happy like a drunk man. But oh how you hated his words, the bitter disgusting indication that you were lower than the man you were supposed to marry.

Clutching your fingers, you smiled as calmly as you could. In your head were plans forming and in every outcome were you the only one sitting on the throne. Blood was only blood, especially since it was so pathetic.

“Of course father, you are right…”

The sun shone bright through your window, stroking your cheek with its warmth. The land under your gaze was yours to rule. Every house, every straw of grass, every organism living was yours and time had been ticking far too slowly. Once, a long time ago, were you merely a child. Wide eyed and filled with wonder but the beautiful world destroyed that once you realised why your mother coward or why your father always were so happy for you, showering you in praises. He wanted a son, however, his genes were too weak and he only got a daughter. They mocked him, everyone from the high standing to the low life, everyone. The western king had suggested marriage to his son with an insulting tone and the idea of it being an easy way to get power. You hated them for it, all of them, but you would prove them wrong and that son of a bitch had a part in your plan.

Taehyung would become your bitch but it would happen slowly and discreetly. You would watch him break down, like his awful father, and you would destroy their kingdom. They would beg for forgiveness for what they had done and you wouldn't care, never. A smile played on your lips, wine in the ruby decorated glass glowing in deep deep red. It slipped down your throat with ease, wonderfull to taste but not as wonderful as what your future had.

Angelin walked through your door, bowing her head like she always did. Once you thought of marrying her just to spite the whole goddamn world, maybe you still would later on, but you wanted to crush Taehyung and his family before that.

“My queen...I have news…”she swallowed, pink lips pressing together as she tried to not stare at your bare shoulders. Angelin was allowed to come into your chamber no matter what, even when you only wore a silk sleeping dress, even when it had fallen down your shoulders and bunched around your hips.” I have confirmed that Prince Taehyung will be attending your ball..”

A sinister smile broke the fine lines of your face, eyes widening until the whole white could be seen. Everything was going according to plans, falling down exactly where it should be. It was almost laughable how easy everything was.

“Great news Angelin..Great news…”chugging the last of your wine, you laughed out loud. He was walking right into your tarp, like a fly heading straight for the spider.”Thank you dear…”

The big day was here, the whole castle was litten up with different light sources. Chandeliers in red crystals, candles in a lovely pink and lanterns with your family segil. Everything was perfect, lavish, and dripping in riches you knew everyone wanted. You walked down a set of stars, blue fabric hugging you exactly like you wanted, white details making you look like a sky. The corset detail really enhanced your breast while your skin was dotted on with rouge. And your hair, oh your hair...it had been decorated with blue crystals and pearls until it looked like stars were shining during the day. It was perfect, killing.

This was the first day of many, the first day towards your rightful place. The king and queen were done for, it was your turn now.

“Are you ready my queen?”Angelin was dressed nicely and her smile had grown a little less scared.

“Of course my dear...Now let’s take them by storm..”

Two big doors opened to the ballroom, opening to a dance floor filled with aristocrats and what nots. They all stared and you had to fight the smik rising to your face, plastering a nice smile in its place. Show time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Y/n Celestine, crown princess of Rosen gard!”the announcer had a voice which you had always disliked, shrinking like a pig while still sounding like someone forced a frog down his throat.

The people below your feet, at the end of the grand staircase, all clapped their hands. Their smiles were fake and the cheers the same but you only had eyes for the balck haired prince standing right beside your father.

Taehyung, the same boy but a little more mature. A wider chest, wider shoulders, wider jaw. He had grown into his body and you realise that you wouldn't mind having him as your bitch. His smirk was the same as all those years ago but this time you met him with poison in your eyes and sweetness on your lips. He was still a man, no matter how smart or strong he had become.

Every step you took was shaking the ground, your smile kind. This was your time to shine and the more you watched the king and queen, the more you wanted to laugh. Their pitiful days were coming to an end and their escape was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh crown princess I must say that it is a pleasure to see you again after all these years..”Taehyung waited for you at the end of the stairs, his voice much deeper than last time you heard it, licking up your spine while all you wanted was to have it elsewhere.

He smiled as your fingers touched his a little rugged once. Music started to sing around you and the dancefloor cleared. Taehyung twirled you around, smirk rising up until it clouded his blue eyes. Poison, a different kind from yours, poison in the form of arrogance. He would be his own downfall, the way he thought of you as nothing more than a weak woman, like your mother. But he would feel your wrath, pain and everything you were.

Taehyung’s fingers graced over your waist, eyes holding you like he knew exactly what to do. The seducer who was walking down his own bloody trap. Tomorrow would he either be accused of murder or your bitch. The thought made you laugh, just in time for what he whispered in your ear.

“You sure have gotten prettier Crown Princess...So tell me why your finger carries no ring?”he purred by your cheek, dancing with you over the floor. Taehyung was sure and every step was with great ease, every touch thoroughly thought about.

“Hmmm, how come you have no ring either Prince Taehyung? Haven't found the right one…?”you whispered right by his era this time, letting your lips just touch the side of his cheek. The scent of roses, your favourite, reeked of him. It was a trick...a tarp.

“Unfortunately...I was hoping to find her soon, I’m sure you feel the same Crown Princess..”if he only knew your plans.

“Oh...I guess you’re right Prince...but maybe I’ve already found him..”the music stopped and you bowed to each other. The smile on your face only widened at the sight of his own smirk. The little prince was dancing to your tarp, falling down the hole when he grabbed a drink with your father.

Later that night, when all guests were drunk or too far gone to notice anything, you slipped away after catching taehyung’s attention. He followed after you, staring down your back until you turned the corner to your tower.

“May my Princess tell me why she’s running away from the party?”Taehyung whispered right by your ear, sending tingles down your spine. You could feel him everywhere, like he was surrounding you. Hands cage you to the cold wall, ice stared you down.

“I was starting to find it rather boring...so I decided to go on an adventure…”your smile was sugary, cat like and deadly. He just watched your lips which were spewing poison to his ears, his heart.” You know..like we did when we were kids…”

You bit your lower lip, letting your gaze trail down his neck, all the way to the peeping collarbone showing through his neckhole. Taehyung was a sight to be seen, a beauty you wanted to destroy. Nothing in this world should look like that and not belong to you.

“But I guess we both are adults now..”with the most sultry voice you could manage, you whispered to him, let his hands crawl closer to your head.

He pressed his lips together, searching in your eyes for something you weren't sure of. Maybe he was getting onto you, realized what game you were playing, but he was already too far gone in your weeb.

“Will you follow me? Will you show me a world which are not for little kids?”he grabbed your hand in a rush, dragging you up the stairs until your door came into view.

Taehyung seemed to be in a hurry and you laughed at that, pulling down one of your sleeves a little, giving this look of sin. Angelin was keeping everything under control at the ball, making sure your parents didn't suspect a thing. She would become your right hand, priced for her loyalty.

“Your head is elsewhere princess...let me help you to get back..”Taehyung’s voice was borderline a growl as he pushed you against the wooden door, hearing it shut hard behind you.

He grabbed at anything and everything, hands flying down your side, tearing at your skirt. And his lips, oh his lips, they ravished you in seconds, forced the very air you had in your lungs to come out. He pushed and pushed, took and took. Everything was him and you, moans rising from your throat. Come on, be more aggressive, take more. Your mind chanted for his touch, greedy to feel pleasure.

“I’ll fuck you so hard you won't even be able to think staright..”it was a promise laced with a growl, followed by the tear of your bust. He took one of your breasts in his big warm hand, squeezing your nipple until you threw your head back.

It gave him the opportunity to suck at your skin, mark you in a way he didn't deserve but you would think about that later when your thighs weren't drenched. Right now it was only him and his tongue, and his hands and his large body. Maybe he would be a worthy lover, only time would tell.

“You little slut...breasts almost spilling from your chest in this dress..It was for me, right?” he growled, biting down on your collarbone. You would actually miss the dress, it was beautiful and now destroyed, but he could think whatever he wanted right now.

“Yes...I’m a little slut, oh yessss..”you whined higher than you had to, eagering him to touch you more, take more. His breath fanned across your neck as he laughed, fingers trailing down your upper body. He was good, played you diligently, unfortunately his ego was too big.

Taehyung turned you around, pushed you against the door until you had to turn your face. The surface was cold against your burning skin, making your nipples harden even more. Thoughts turned in your head, slowly forming a ball of nothing and everything. Future and history. Tomorrow..you would be a queen, powerful and unstoppable.

“Exactly, I can already feel you…”Taehyung murmured in your ear, bunching your skirts until he could reach under them, dragg his long fingers up your thighs.” Wet..so wet. I never thought I would have you like this..”

You hummed, rolling your hips to meet his touch, feel him closer. The prince was taking his sweet time, laughing deeply at the desperate moving of your legs. He knew what you wanted but things with you could be dangerous, the princess with a deadly edge.

“Faster…!”you whined, tired of his teasing. Taehyung was only fueling the fire in your veins and you would explode soon if he didn't do anything.

You managed to slip out his hold and throw yourself on the silken sheet covering your bed. He was still covered, only a button or two were not in place. So, you had to edge him a little too, play the game. Your fingers slipped down the expanse of your stomach, slipping until they got to your aching pussy. They moved down your center, made your back arch as they moved in circles around your painfully empty hole. Taehyung stared at you for every move you made, ravishing the skin covering you. He moved slowly forward, grabbing your hand and forcing it above your head.

“Don't …”he growled out, replacing your fleeting touch with sure movement of his own. Those long fingers moved deep in you, dragging high moans from your lungs. Taehyung took and took, bringing you to the edge while standing between your shaking thighs.

Lights flashed in your eyes, lips parting to scream out his name. The prince sure did a good job having you cum. The world started to slow down, your back stopped aching but your breast kept heaving. He just smiled, taking those fingers in his mouth, staring at you as he did.

“Filthy..”your voice was hoarse, clouded with heavy breathing. Taehyung would be a great lover.

“Oh, if you only knew how filthy I could be, love..”he let your wrist go, only to grab your skirt, tearing it open. It fell off your lower half, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.” I might just have to show you…”

Dropping the deep blue blazer, Taehyung started to unbutton the white under shirt with silver details. He kept your gaze as he moved from button to button, exposing firm skin to your delight. The boy had grown into a man, maybe even a warrior. Muscles defined his arms, legs and torso, but you had to gulp when his fingers got to his pants. His smirk set fire to your blood, fabric falling down strong hips, leaving only the white shirt hanging over his wide shoulders. You tried not to stare too much, keep some dignity, but when his hand grabbed ahold of his big cock...oh you couldn't help but whine.

Taehyung’s laugh sent shivers down your spine, your whole body tingling as he crawled over you. His eyes were so bright, almost shining in the gloomy room. What a shame, you thought, what a shame he was an egocentric little bitch.

“I would like to take you against the wall, so hard you’d scream my name until everyone could hear how good my cock makes you feel..”he whispered in your ear, lining up with your pulsing entrance. Taehyung teased you slowly, dragging the head of his cock in your juices, so different from before.”But we can do that another time...Right now..”

He didn't even finish his sentence, only pushed deep into you, so deep you had to arch your back. His cock was bigger than anyone you had before but he filled you so well, let you adjust to him before he even moved again. That short moment was filled with his rose scent and heavy breathing, it almost became sweet when he gazed into your hazy eyes. However, he moved his hips and you couldn't have it sweet.

Taehyung hammered into your pussy, intertwining your fingers above your head as you screamed out your heart's content. He fucked you, long and hard, pushed your poor body until it became too much. You felt him swell, heard him groan, before he realised deep in you. Sweat formed in his hairline, shone like little stars while the both of you calmed down. Such a pretty boy and he was all yours.

Collapsing by your side, Taehyung exhaled tiredly. He was done for and you almost laughed, almost...

135 notes · View notes

luminescencefics · 4 years ago

Text

stir me up

Harry Styles doesn’t know much, but he does know two things. He knows that there’s not many things a good cocktail can’t fix, and he also knows that he can’t stop thinking about the blonde-haired girl who he shamelessly flirts with during his shift every Friday evening.

Willa Tillerson might know too much, to be fair. She knows that she lets work slowly take over her life, she knows that this work-life balance her friends talk about is nothing short of fiction, and she knows that she can’t help but look forward to Friday’s so that she can flirt with the handsome barman at the pub across the street.

A oneshot about drinks and the people who make them, featuring a hint of pining and a dash of a (potential) happily ever after.

written for @stellarboystyles‘s 3 year anniversary

mutual pining // prompt #3 “You’re really cute when you start rambling like that.”

harry/ofc, 15k

Willa Tillerson notices two things instantly when she walks into The Churchill Arms after a long and tiring day at work. The first is that her coworkers have already started without her, a pile of empty pint glasses nearly towering over the wooden table they’ve deemed as their own in the back corner of the pub. The second is that her favorite barman is working.

She tries her hardest not to make eye contact with him, because Willa has always thrived on playing hard to get. But there’s no denying that he makes it that much more difficult, with the way his brown hair wisps around his forehead in fluffy curls, and the way his black collared work shirt strains over his bulging biceps when he pulls a pint from the tap, and the way his green eyes light up and cherry lips quirk with a boyish grin when the door shuts tightly behind her, the bell above clanging together in a pretty tune.

Willa Tillerson is trying.

Before she can begin putting her black leather Saint Laurent boots in front of the other, she hears a loud posh voice calling her over towards the back table. With her new handbag held tightly under her armpit, she begins barrelling forward, purposely sashaying her hips back and forth when she walks past the bartop, ignoring the hot gaze that hits her lower back.

“About time! You’re nearly an hour late, Ms. Workaholic,” Annabelle tuts once Willa has approached the table. She rolls her eyes, putting her Celine handbag on the hook below the table and throwing her Isabel Marant wool longline jacket on the back of one of the unoccupied chairs.

“Oh be quiet, I just had some last minute things to catch up on,” Willa retorts, doing her best to turn off Work Willa and turn on Fun Willa.

It’s hard sometimes, considering her job has been taking over most of her life for the better part of the year. She loves the work, and Willa will be the first person to admit that, but it can be a bit gruelling at times.

But she can’t complain, because she’s passionate about her position as a senior designer at Kensington Interior Design Ltd. Willa’s been lucky enough to work at the company ever since she finished uni years ago, and she received the promotion almost four months ago. Her workload had increased tenfold—but she really can’t lament. Even though she’s almost the last person to leave the office every night, and she’s now the last person to trickle in to their after-work drinks tradition that started a few years ago, and she honestly can’t remember the last time she had been out on a date ever since she’s been working through the weekends.

Willa’s really trying.

The sudden urge to have a cocktail is almost all-consuming. So with a quick flick of her neck towards the bartop to Annabelle, Willa grasps her wallet in her hand and struts over towards the counter where her favorite barman is already waiting for her.

“Evening,” he calls out, his right dimple already sunk deep into his ivory skin, causing Willa to grin right back at him. His arms are stretched out wide against the dark wooden countertop, causing his large shoulders to jut out. Willa is doing her best to not stare at the dark ink swirling up and down his toned arms.

“Hi Harry,” Willa responds easily back, resting her forearms on the countertop and leaning forward in her boots so that her cleavage is a bit more exposed in her tight white blouse.

“Your regular, then?” He asks with his deep voice, and Willa just nods back, suppressing the flush that’s beginning to crawl up her sternum when Harry reaches down for the bottle of gin and begins scooping ice into the shaker, pouring a generous amount into the tin.

Harry’s focus shifts towards the task at hand, and he feels grateful for the excuse to point his green eyes at something other than Willa’s pretty face and exposed neckline. He’s really doing his best to keep his eyes above her collarbones, but she’s making it increasingly difficult with each shift forward against the wooden bartop.

“How was work?” Harry asks after placing the gin bottle back into the speed rack. The distraction of watching him make a cocktail is brief, but Willa is happy for the extra minutes she gets to stare at him unabashedly without him knowing.

“The usual, how about you?” His eyes finally rise from the cocktail shaker and meet hers, and her lips begin to lift because she already knows what he’s going to say.

“The usual.” It’s said with a shrug and a smirk, and even though Willa and Harry have the same transfer of words every Friday evening, it still doesn’t fail to make her red-painted lips quirk up in a pretty smile.

He hands over her martini in exchange for Willa’s credit card, which he slides through the machine swiftly to start her tab that he knows won’t exceed four drinks.

Willa loves how their little flirting ruse has been quite routine for the past two months. She knows that they flirt from a distance, with lingering gazes and small quips of lips into half-smiles, half-smirks. She knows that he remembers her drink order by heart, but still asks her because it’s cordial. She knows that he always asks her how work was, to which she always responds the same thing. She knows it all.

So when she starts to pivot on her back foot to head towards her coworkers, she stops abruptly when Harry leans forward against the bartop, crossing his arms over his chest to support his torso.

Because she hasn’t known him to do this.

“You look nice tonight, Willa.” His voice sends shockwaves through her insides and it happens so quickly that she can’t even try to hide the blush that finally rests on her cheekbones. Before she can think of a witty response or even a gentle thank you, Harry’s already begun moving to the other side of the bar to help another customer.

Before Willa can start to get confused glances from other patrons, she begins to walk forward towards her coworkers, trying her hardest to force the blush to leave her cheeks. Because Harry has never complimented her appearance before, and while she appreciates the gesture, she can’t help but wonder if her surprised look threw him off.

“He is too fit to be a barman,” Ethan says once Willa has slipped into the chair with her jacket on the back, pulling a long sip from her Vesper. She’s grateful for the harsh sting that soothes her burning insides.

“He really is. If I was single I would jump on that in a heartbeat,” Annabelle agrees, shooting Willa a knowing look to which she tries her hardest to ignore.

She really doesn’t want to talk about her love life, or lack thereof, in front of her coworkers.

“Honestly Willa, if he played on my team I would already have done it,” Ethan announces a bit too loudly, forcing Willa to swat at his side.

“Ethan!” Willa shrieks, shooting a glance over his shoulder to see if Harry had overheard anything. He hasn’t, luckily, but he has felt her gaze linger on his frame for a bit too long, so when green eyes meet blue she quickly looks away, swallowing down her drink.

Ethan just shrugs her off, finishing up the pint in front of him. “Oh, bugger off. I don’t know what you’re waiting on, Wills. You clearly fancy him.”

“I don’t even know him enough to fancy him, you twat,” Willa says, placing her drink down on the table to give her friend a sharp look. “I think he’s nice to look at. And he makes a good drink. That’s it.”

It’s a lie and everybody at the table knows it, so when they all roll their eyes and tell her to fuck off, she doesn’t even feel bad.

“Sure, Wills. Fancy getting the next round, then? If you just think he makes a good drink, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Ethan asks and Willa just ignores him, practically finishing her martini in two full gulps. She knows that he’s taunting her, and when he looks at her Willa shakes her head, praying that he’ll just drop it.

He does, because even though Ethan can be a bit much at times, he knows all of the shit that Willa has been through this past year. And while he means well and really wants Willa to branch out and meet new people, he knows that he can’t push her. So he lets it go and Willa does her hardest to not watch Ethan interact with Harry at the bar. Does her hardest to ignore the way Harry’s gaze shifts to hers in a questioning look when Ethan orders her a new martini.

She needs more liquid courage.

So when Ethan hands her another drink without a word, she’s thankful for that. Because as much as she wants to talk to Harry again, she’s far too shy to do it herself. And not to mention a little thrown off at his last comment—because she wasn’t sure that their relationship existed outside of flirtatious looks and short-worded conversations.

So she sits in the back with her coworkers and drinks and makes sure that whenever she chances a look at Harry, he’s busy doing other things. And after she’s finished her third cocktail, she throws her jacket on and approaches the bar to close her tab, just like every other Friday before that.

“Have a good night, Harry,” Willa says once she’s slipped her wallet into her purse and slides the checkbook over towards his large hands.

Harry just nods, looking at her with that special glint in his eyes he saves just for her. “You too, Willa. See you next week.”

And when she walks over towards the door and feels the chill of the autumn breeze hit her flushed cheeks, she’s wondering if the warmth that lingers on her skin is from Harry’s gaze or if she’s just imagining it.

***

Willa’s spirits are quite high when she walks into The Churchill Arms that next Friday only a few minutes after five o’clock for the first time in about a month.

She had just won over a top tier client and was working on the next steps to continue growing her portfolio. It was between Willa and another senior designer at the firm, and by some stroke of luck, she had been chosen to redecorate the master bedroom in their Knightsbridge mansion.

Her good mood is palpable, and Harry can practically feel her beaming from the entryway of the bar. She looks the same as she always does, far too pretty and successful to banter with a barman like himself, but she still does it anyway. Her long legs are hidden under flowy navy dress pants, heels giving her that extra bit of height that makes her seem larger than life in the dimly lit bar. She’s wearing a cream-colored scoop neck top that makes Harry imagine what she’ll look like leaned over the bartop, and before he can even realize he’s been staring at her for far too long, she gives him a glowing smile and he feels as if he’s weightless.

Willa saunters over towards the table in the back where her coworkers are already waiting for her, with Ethan grabbing her jacket and handbag and wrapping her up in a hug and Annabelle holding out a shot glass filled with clear liquid and a bright smile covering her face.

It’s times like these when Willa feels as if everything is falling into place.

She shoots back the tequila with grace, clamping her teeth down on the lime until the acidic taste quels the stinging of the liquor. Willa leans her head into the crook of Ethan’s neck, feeling his warmth completely encapsulate her body.

“So proud of you, Wills,” Ethan whispers into her blonde hair. Willa just squeezes his hip back in thanks, reaching into her handbag to grab her leather wallet, beginning her normal trek up to the bartop to see Harry.

He’s already waiting for her like usual, a rapturous smile covering his face. He looks exactly how she feels—happy and warm and safe, and she wonders if she’s just realizing it now or if he’s always looked like that. His arms are doing that thing again where the muscles practically stretch his cotton work shirt to shreds, and his eyes are doing that shimmering thing where Willa knows she should look away but she can’t, and his hair is doing that floppy thing that makes Willa want to run her fingers through the tendrils, and Willa feels the warmest she’s felt all night.

“Hi Harry,” Willa says once she’s approached the counter, leaning forward and causing Harry’s green eyes to darken a bit. It’s exactly as he imagined it, and he isn’t even trying to hide the fact that his pupils dart down before lifting to her blue eyes once more.

“Evening, Willa. Celebrating something?” He asks, gesticulating towards the empty tray of shot glasses lingering on the wooden table her coworkers are occupying in the back of the room.

Her eyes light up even more and she nods her head in an excited, enamoring way. He leans forward too, resting one forearm on the clean bartop and his other arm is bent at the elbow, holding his face as he watches her.

Willa tries her hardest not to lean forward an inch more.

“Had a good day at work, landed a really important client,” Willa explains, and she’s fully aware that the pair are straying from their usual Friday conversation, but she really could care less.

Harry gives her a look of admiration. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations are in order, I reckon.” He’s giving her a mischievous look and Willa suddenly feels intrigued. Apparently that was the only sign of approval Harry needed, because he suddenly reaches down and makes two shot glasses practically appear out of thin air, pouring them to the brim with the same clear liquid Willa had just swallowed a few moments prior.

“I’m hoping the other one is for you?” Willa asks in a low voice, cocking her head to the side and looking up at Harry under her thick eyelashes. He can practically feel the groan forming in the back of his throat when he pictures her looking up at him for a different reason entirely, but he suppresses it with a quick nod of his head.

“‘Course. ‘S bad luck to take a shot by yourself.” His voice is even lower than hers, and Willa’s surprised that she can hear it clearly with the barrier of the bartop between them. Willa seemingly agrees with Harry’s statement, because she’s suddenly standing upright, reaching her long fingers out to cup the cool glass in her palm, arching her eyebrow when she realizes that Harry is watching her instead of copying her movements.

“Cheers, Harry,” Willa says, extending her arm and smirking to herself when Harry hurriedly grips the short glass, sloshing a bit of the tequila over the edge. He regains his cool composure though, before extending his arm as well and clinking the glasses softly together.

“Cheers, Willa.” His voice is guttural and Willa can practically feel it resonate through her. But before she could think about it too much, she’s bringing the glass to her rogue lips and knocking the liquid back, keeping her blue eyes locked on Harry’s green.

His lips are moistened from the tequila and a small dribble has started to form on the lower left side of his mouth, threatening to leak down to his chin. Without even thinking (or maybe thinking quite a bit, to be fair), Willa reaches her hand out and cups Harry’s chin, before thumbing at the liquid to make it disappear.

His eyes are blown wide and suddenly the clamor from the busy bar turns into white noise, and all Harry can see is Willa. All he wants to do is grab her smaller hand in his and hold on for dear life, bringing her closer and closer into his atmosphere before she floats away. But then, a voice asking for a refill breaks his reverie and he’s back to tending the bar and ignoring the blazing feeling of where Willa’s hand once was on his mouth.

She waits patiently while he pulls a pint from the tap, watching as his large hands grip the cool glass easily, the motions practically ingrained in his system. He’s quite graceful behind the bar, all long limbs grabbing glasses and mixing different liquids together in such a fashion that makes Willa never want to return to that wooden table in the back of the room.

Before long, he’s right back in front of her, asking if she wants her usual drink to which she responds with a dazed yes. He doesn’t say much to her, still reeling from the fact that she was so close and he couldn’t do anything about it because he was behind the bar and she was on the receiving end, the sobering cognizance surging back into his skin that he is, in fact, at work, and can’t spend his night kissing the pretty blonde patron (even if it’s all he can think about, really).

Once the martini is placed on a cocktail napkin in front of her, Willa reaches for her credit card causing Harry to shake his head with a small grin on his lips.

“No, no. This one’s on me,” before Willa can protest, he cuts her off. “Congrats again, Willa.” And with that he’s off to the other end of the bar, leaving Willa feeling a lot more hot (and bothered) than she was earlier.

Once Willa returns back to the table, she finds herself sandwiched between Ethan and Annabelle, talking about anything and everything. The group rarely bring up work, and instead, Willa finds herself joking around with the office intern and reminiscing about drunken uni nights, finds herself gushing over Annabell’s engagement ring and revelling in wedding plans, finds herself laughing at Ethan’s crude jokes about all of the failed dates he’s been on in the past few months.

Willa finds that she’s actually having a lot of fun.

After her second martini, Willa asks the group if they’d like another round and with a few negative responses, she walks back over towards the bar. Harry can see her out of his periphery, and the sight of her with flushed cheeks and messy hair and glossy eyes causes him to overpour the pint glass in his hand, sticky beer coating his long fingers.

He shakes it off and rubs the remaining liquid on the bar rag in his back pocket, handing the glass over to the burly man who ordered it and accepting his payment with a quick nod. He really wants to head over to where Willa is before the other barman notices her.

Harry’s expecting her to ask for her tab, because he’s noticed that she’s had two martinis and two tequila shots, and she’ll probably want to call it an evening.

But when she’s looking at him with big blue eyes and a hint of a smirk on her lips, he’s suddenly hoping that she doesn’t want to leave. That she’ll stay for quite a bit longer, actually. (And maybe even long enough so that he can walk her home after his shift, but he doesn’t want to think about that all too much).

“Hi Harry, fancy making me another?” Willa asks once he’s in front of her, swiveling the empty up glass in her dainty fingertips. He smiles at her, plucking the glass from between her hands, trying to ignore the burning feeling on his flesh from where their fingers touched.

“Thought you’d be heading out by now,” Harry says in between exchanging the gin bottle for the vodka bottle, pouring a generous amount into the tin.

Willa laughs a bit, shaking her head softly. “Kind of feel like staying out a bit longer.” She’s fully aware that the alcohol she’s consumed throughout the evening has made her much more bold, but she really doesn’t care. She’s grateful for it, in fact, once she’s noticed the darkened look in Harry’s eyes and the sultry smirk gracing his cherry lips.

“I’m glad. Always feel like you cut out a bit early, anyways.” His eyes lift from stirring the liquid in the tin to her pupils, and Willa wonders if he’s speaking in riddles like she is.

“Are you trying to persuade me to stay longer?” Willa asks, and she’s doing that leaning forward thing again and Harry can feel his neck tense with the running reminder to not ogle at the swell of her breasts trapped inside her tight top.

He puts the top back on the cocktail shaker and lines up a new glass, straining the Vesper into it. “Might be.” He’s trying to be smug but Willa is really testing his patience, and she’s found that she quite enjoys making him squirm.

She grabs the glass as he’s placing it on the bartop, her thin fingers falling over his wider ones, causing his hand to still. She’s leaning forward on her forearm, her chest resting over the skin practically causing her breasts to spill out of the tight material of her top. Harry gulps harshly, slipping his fingers out from under hers and immediately regretting the warm feeling that leaves his hand.

Willa giggles again, staring at Harry as she takes a sip from the cocktail, her lipstick leaving a mark on the lip of the glass, making Harry practically fall over at the sight of her.

He has a feeling she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, and normally, he would be annoyed. But for some reason, this pretty girl with too-expensive shoes and put-together makeup and an all-together sophisticated demeanor is somehow the hottest person he’s seen sitting at this bar in weeks. And even when her hair is messy and her eyes are blown out and her lipstick is a little smudged, she still causes Harry to fidget and second guess what he’s saying to her.

He also can’t deny the sudden urge to bend her over in the toilets and make her squirm instead.

He coughs into his fist, breaking the spell, and thankfully Willa gets the hint. Without another word, she slides her credit card over the wooden counter and slips it under Harry’s palm, muttering a slow, “Keep it open, please,” before slinking back to her friends.

Harry’s in a daze and he really needs to do something about the tightness in his pants. But before he can dwell on it any longer, a redheaded girl has taken over the spot Willa was once in and he’s forced to think about something other than the blonde girl sneaking looks at him from across the room.

After two more cocktails, Willa has come to the conclusion that she’s had quite enough to drink. She’s the type of drunkenness where laughter comes far too easily and she feels a bit too warm in her clothes, and while she has the sudden urge to dance and kiss a pretty boy, she knows that she’s done for the night. Because she doesn’t want to lose this feeling, and one more drink will definitely cause her to be the type of drunkenness that includes a side of nausea and a dizzying headache.

She grabs her belongings and gives both Annabelle and Ethan a sloppy kiss on the cheek, promising to meet them Sunday afternoon for brunch. Willa starts heading toward the bar on shaky feet, and when Harry looks at her with an amused grin on his face, she’s quite thankful for the countertop that she can latch onto, because she could get lost in his green eyes if she wanted to (and she really wanted to, more than anything).

“I think I’m throwing in the towel,” Willa slurs through a smile, watching the way Harry’s lower lip juts out in a pout. Her eyes fall to the pinkness of his round lower lip, noticing the slightly chapped skin and admiring the stubble framing his mouth. She starts to think about how kissable they look, but then the pout leaves and he’s forming words and Willa focuses back to listening instead of staring at him hungrily.

“Ah. As the barman, I fully support this decision,” Harry starts, sliding a glass of water over in her direction and beginning to run her credit card before slipping the receipt into a checkbook with a pen. “But, as a normal guy, I’m quite disappointed.”

Willa pauses signing the dotted line at the bottom of the paper. “A normal guy, huh?”

He watches her close the book and slide it back over in his direction, her face scrunched up in confusion. He wonders how somebody could be both sexy and cute at the same time, and wonders how she does it so effortlessly.

“Yep. You do know that I work on other days besides Friday, yeah?” Harry asks, leaning a bit forward so that the conversation can be as intimate as possible in the newly crowded area.

Willa looks at him and smiles, relief flushing over her as her drunken convoluted mind comes to the conclusion that Harry is, in fact, finally making a move. Albeit it’s not as direct and Willa is fairly certain that if she were a bit more sober she’d actually pick up on what he’s been hinting at the entire night, but nonetheless, she takes it in stride, finding herself leaning in a bit more towards his towering frame.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” Willa watches as Harry’s eyes light up, and she’s almost certain that he’s leaning closer towards her, but she steps back with a sly smirk. She wants to leave Harry wanting more (even though all he does is want her, practically every waking moment she’s in this bar), so she sneaks away with a tiny wave, causing Harry to come to a startling realization.

Willa Tillerson knows exactly what she’s doing.

***

The next time Harry sees Willa, he didn’t think she’d look so dejected.

He hears the bells chime when the heavy oak door closes behind her. It’s a Wednesday, therefore her usual gang of coworkers haven’t entered the bar at all this evening. At first glance, Harry’s excited to see her, thinking about the last time he saw her and invited her to come in on a non-Friday. But once he sees her blue eyes are a bit dull and her trousers are crinkled from slumping in her office chair long after everybody has left and she just looks, well, sad, he’s instantly concerned.

Willa wasn’t really thinking all too clearly about her arrival when she looks around the half-full bar. It’s a much different scene inside than it normally is on Fridays—the leather booths along the far side of the wall are filled with people eating dinner, the music is a calm acoustic playlist, and Harry is standing alone behind the bartop.

She can feel his eyes on her frame immediately, and while the warmth is still there, she suddenly feels timid under his unwavering gaze. Willa’s fully aware that she looks exactly how she feels—complete and utter shit. It’s a far cry from how she felt the last time she stepped foot in The Churchill Arms, but she didn’t feel like going home, and when she remembers Harry’s invitation to come in on another day, she didn’t really think twice about changing her route to the bar instead of the tube to head home for the evening.

“Evening Willa,” Harry greets her like normal, and he isn’t really sure how to play this one out. He really wanted to sound more excited to see her, maybe playful even, but he doesn’t want to scare her away. Because even though she looks upset, he still really is glad she came in.

But there’s no denying he’s worried.

“Hi Harry,” Willa mumbles, sliding her heavy Theory trench coat off her shoulders and hanging it around the back of the leather barstool. Her handbag rests on the hook under the bartop, and she realizes then that this is the first time she’s ever sat at the bar with Harry in front of her.

He slides a cocktail napkin over in her direction, just like he does with every other customer, and waits patiently for her to look him in the eyes. When she finally does, clear blue eyes squinting up at him with an unknown emotion covering her face, he wants nothing more than to jump over the barrier between them and hold her close.

But he can’t.

So he does the next best thing he could think of—ask her what she’d like to drink.

Harry is expecting her to ask for her usual. But she surprises him (something she’s been doing quite a bit of lately) and gives him a sad, half-smile. “What do you usually drink when you’ve had a shit day?”

He frowns at that. “That bad, huh?” He’s leaning down over the counter on his forearms, trying to reach her at eye level. She’s not backing away, which Harry appreciates, and before he can lean in a bit closer, she gives him a small shrug.

“Yep. I’m officially the sad girl at a bar asking the cute barman to make her feel better with copious amounts of alcohol. Think you can help me out with that?” Willa’s head is cocked to the right in question, her blue eyes brightening when Harry’s lips form a deep grin.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, reaching for the nice bottle of Reposado he saves for himself after long nights behind the bar. Harry watches as Willa gives him a genuine smile, and he finally feels the mood begin to lighten around them.

Willa chooses not to answer, instead, her eyes widen at the bottle in his large hands. “Tequila? Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughs, reaching into the ice bin to deposit a few cubes into the highball glass on the counter. “This isn’t just any tequila, Willa. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

When the cold glass lands on the cocktail napkin in front of her, she reaches for it, holding it up in front of her face a bit in Harry’s direction in cheers. His eyes squint behind his smile when her lips wrap around the glass, taking a generous sip without flinching.

She doesn’t need to tell him that it’s good, because he already knows that.

Instead, he rests his palms on the countertop and looks down at her. “So, why are you officially the sad girl at my bar, Willa?”

“Christ,” Willa starts, swallowing down another gulp of tequila. “Am I really going to be that person who tells the barman all the woes in their life?”

Harry laughs. “Only doing my job here, babe.”

She laughs a bit, finally feeling a bit better. Maybe her decision in coming here wasn’t as stupid as she originally thought. Maybe seeing Harry on a night where she can actually hear him and be in his presence without the lingering feeling of another patron waiting for her to finish up, or the looks she gets from Ethan and Annabelle when she’s so obviously flirting with him, or the loud music reverberating through the wooden walls, is exactly what she needed.

So, Willa gives in.

“You know how I’m an interior designer, right?” Willa starts, watching as Harry nods instantly. “Well, I had just gotten back from a meeting with a new client—”

“—The big one, yeah? The one you were celebrating last week?” Harry asks, and Willa immediately feels her cheekbones warm. She feels a bubbling in her stomach at the fact that Harry remembered, and before she can get sidetracked on the feeling inside of her, he’s nodding at her in a way that’s asking her to continue.

“Yeah. Anyways, on my way back to my office, I ran into my ex-boyfriend.” Willa takes a break to sip the tequila again, trying her hardest to wash the image of Gavin and his blonde hair and smug look out of her brain with each harsh sip.

“That’s never fun,” Harry admits. There’s no denying the fact that he’s a bit chuffed to hear that she has an ex-boyfriend. Even though a part of him knew deep down that she must have been single with the way she was flirting with him and pushing her chest in his direction and wiping his lips clean of leftover tequila. But he can never be too sure.

But he doesn’t want her to think that.

“Oh that’s not the best part!” Willa announces, feeling herself hot with anger once again. She thought she had gotten rid of it when she slumped in her leather office chair for the past few hours, staring at the white wall thinking about how much of a fucking prick Gavin actually was.

“What happened?” Harry’s voice is soft and kind and it suddenly calms Willa down. She starts to feel her anger dissipate with each second Harry’s green eyes are on hers, and she’s wondering what that all means.

“He was early for a meeting with one of my coworkers. He has plans to make the spare bedroom in his loft a nursery.” Willa’s eyes fall from Harry’s and focuses on the amber liquid sloshing around the heavy ice cubes. Instead of anger, Willa just feels sad.

Not only sad. She also feels a bit stupid, if she’s being honest.

Because Gavin didn’t want her in the same way Willa wanted him. Gavin wanted stability, a place of his own with a wife who would be home with their baby. He always believed that Willa put her career first, which in hindsight, was probably true.

But Willa was not the type of woman to stop doing what she loved in order to make the person she was with feel secure. She was not the type of woman to bury her feelings in order to make her partner feel comfortable. She was not the type of woman who would drop everything in her life to have a baby.

So when she tells him this, he walks away.

It was only until today that Willa discovered he had found another woman to do all of that for him instead.

“I’m sorry, Willa. That’s really shit,” Harry says softly, forcing Willa to turn away from the liquid in her glass and look at him. Him, with his fluffy chestnut curls. Him, with his forehead scrunched in concern. Him, with his cherry lips turned downwards. Him, who causes Willa to realize that she shouldn’t be upset over Gavin.

Not anymore, that is.

“Yeah,” she shrugs and finishes off her drink, nodding silently when Harry offers her another. “It’s been almost a year now, and honestly I do feel like I’m over it. It’s just—I don’t know. It just sucks realizing that he’s moved on and he’s finally gotten what he wants and I’m still so unsure of everything.”

“Who says we’re supposed to have everything figured out?” Harry responds, placing a new drink in front of Willa.

She looks at him and wonders how he can make sense of all of this with a few measly words. Wonders how he always seems so confident and sure. Wonders how he’s made her feel comfortable in this bar on a Wednesday night. Wonders if he’s always been like this, to be fair.

“You’re quite good at this,” Willa says after a beat, smiling when Harry laughs.

“Yeah, well, it’s part of the gig.” Before he can stay and talk with her longer (because he could give fuck all about his job at this point), one of the waitresses rings in a drink order and Harry’s off to the other end of the bar, pouring pints and scooping ice into glasses.

Willa doesn’t mind. She actually finds it quite comforting to watch him work. He’s a natural conversationalist, always making eye contact and coaxing laughter out of people. And while she sits and continues to drink, she notices how he always manages to glance her way whenever he is in the middle of performing different tasks, and she finds that her heart keeps swelling with every shy look he sends her.

Two more drinks later, Willa starts to realize that she hasn’t even thought about Gavin at all. Instead, her mind is filled with green eyes and curly hair and mermaid tattoos. She’s found that her eyes keep tracing over Harry’s features—at his sharp jawline, his scattered freckles, his carved muscles, his long torso. She’s quite overwhelmed with how handsome he is under the dim bar lighting, and she’s quite grateful to be sitting this close to him for this long.

Harry makes sure to keep Willa company between drinks, watching the way she seems to grow a bit lighter with each passing sip. A large part of him wishes he could just close early so he could take her home and make sure she stays this level of content for the remainder of the evening, but with each passing hour, he’s watching her eyes grow a bit heavier and he knows that it’s only a matter of time before she leaves him again.

Willa begins to reach for her wallet just as Harry saunters over towards her. “Leaving so soon?” He asks even though he already knows the answer.

“Unfortunately, I have to wake up early tomorrow for work. And I’m already dreading the ghastly tequila hangover I’ll be dealing with,” Willa says, handing over the thick plastic card in Harry’s direction.

Harry laughs. “Hey! I wasn’t the one who asked for a different drink this time!” His tone is light but Willa is quite intoxicated, and normally she would be able to identify the hint of sarcasm lacing his words. But she can’t this time, and suddenly her cheeks burn red and she starts stammering out an apology and Harry can’t help but watch her with a grin.

“Shit! I, uh, didn’t mean it like that. I mean, yeah—I definitely asked you for your usual, and I didn’t mean to insult you! I just, uh, let me rephrase—”

Harry’s laughter cuts her off and Willa drops her forehead into her awaiting palms in embarrassment. “You’re really cute when you start rambling like that.”

Willa lifts her head up and smiles at him, reaching for the checkbook in his extended arms. “You think I’m cute?” She asks in the same way Harry did to her hours earlier, and she watches as he looks deep into her eyes with an unwavering look.

“Much more than cute.”

If Willa was warm before, she feels sweltering under his gaze. She tries her hardest not to let his words affect her, but she gives herself away when she almost drops her credit card while she’s trying to slide it into her wallet, when she starts fidgeting in the leather of the barstool, when her throat suddenly becomes dry and she starts to take heavy gulps of the water glass in front of her.

“Do you live close by?” Harry asks after a beat of silence passes through them. He’s suddenly aware of the late hour, and even though he wishes she could stay, he has the overwhelming urge to make sure she gets home safely.

Willa shakes her head before wrapping herself up in her coat. “No, near Swiss Cottage. I’ll just take the tube, it’s not far.”

Harry immediately shakes his head, reaching behind him to grab the telephone near the till. “Nonsense, you’re not taking the tube at this hour. Sit here, I’ll call you a cab.”

Before Willa can argue, Harry’s already punching the numbers into the phone, giving the driver the address of the pub to pick Willa up at. Normally, Willa would be annoyed at his forwardness. But, she finds it quite charming that Harry is hellbent on making sure she gets home safely, and she finds that she’s not annoyed in the slightest.

“He’ll be ‘round in ten minutes,” Harry announces once he’s hung up and he’s stood in front of her again, looking at her in a way that makes Willa warm all over.

He has a habit of doing that, she thinks.

Just as she was going to thank him, Harry’s attention is drawn to the older man at the end of the bar asking to settle up his tab. With an apologetic look, he heads over, forcing Willa to wrap her scarf around her neck and gather her handbag so she’s not sitting there looking at Harry like a lovesick puppy.

When Harry’s back in front of her, she notices the headlights in the windows announcing the arrival of her cab. Just as she’s about to say her goodbyes, Harry cuts her off, his arms holding him up as he leans forward, staring at her with nothing but intent in his green eyes.

“Go out with me.”

“Pardon?” Willa asks, completely thrown off by his declaration.

“Saturday. I want to take you out.” The cab driver honks from outside and Harry’s practically desperate, needing Willa to say yes. He doesn't think he’ll get another chance alone with her.

Her eyes shift from the car to his. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He asks, breathless.

“Yeah.” It’s final, sure and assertive, and before Harry can say anything else, Willa’s already heading for the door, offering him one last lingering gaze before the bells clang above her head, signalling her departure.

Harry’s almost positive he’ll be dreaming of that look for the next three days.

***

On Friday evening, Willa decides to skip out on after-work drinks with her coworkers. It’s not because she doesn’t want to see Harry—because every time she closes her eyes all she sees are his staring back, and she really doesn’t know what to do about that.

Willa’s not used to being so enthralled with somebody else, and all she wants is to play it cool for their upcoming date. So when she’s home in her flat, she throws her mobile on her bed after ignoring Ethan and Annabelle’s incessant calls about her bailing on them. And just before she falls asleep, she digs into her comforter and finds that she has a text waiting for her from an unknown number with an address and a message underneath.

Don’t overthink it. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. x

When she clicks on the address and it populates on her Maps app on her mobile, she finds that it’s a pub somewhere in Camden. Before she can overthink it, just like Harry’s message predicted, she shuts off her mobile and forces herself to sleep and try not to think about the boy who’s been infiltrating her dreams for the past three nights.

Just as Willa’s getting ready for her date, she decides that she’s been ignoring Ethan for far too long, and reluctantly decides to call him back while applying a generous coat of mascara to her eyelashes.

“Christ Willa! You have a date with the fit barman and decide to go AWOL in the meantime? How bloody selfish can you be!” Ethan’s voice squeaks out through the receiver on Willa’s mobile, and she honestly shouldn’t be surprised at his dramatics after knowing him for four years, but she still rolls her eyes anyways.

“His name is Harry,” Willa decides to mention while placing the mascara wand back in the tube on her vanity.

“Oh, pardon my mistake, Wills. Imagine my surprise when Harry asked me for your bloody number last night! You at least could’ve given me a heads up so I didn’t look like an absolute git standing there with my mouth hanging open,” Ethan recounts, and Willa can practically see his erratic hand movements with each stressed syllable that comes out of his lips.

“Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me to branch out and meet new people?” Willa says through mumbles, making sure her lipstick application isn’t butchered through her choppy conversation with Ethan.

She hears Ethan’s cackle through the speakers. “I didn’t actually think you’d listen!”

Willa chooses not to respond. Instead, she leaves her bathroom vanity and heads over to her closet to grab her black leather heeled boots resting on the bottom of her shoe rack. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she starts shoving them on while she waits for Ethan to talk—knowing fully well that quiet pauses in conversations never sit well with her obnoxious friend.

“So, where’s fit Harry taking you?” Ethan finally asks.

“Some pub in Camden, according to the address he sent me,” Willa says while grabbing her tube of lipstick, keys, and wallet and throwing them into her small black leather shoulder bag.

“Camden!? Please tell me you’re not wearing your bloody Celine bag!” Ethan is absolutely ruthless and Willa is really regretting calling him back.

“Will you calm down? I doubt Harry would take me to some dodgy pub,” Willa assures him, flicking off the overhead light in her bedroom as well as the kitchen light and beginning to lock up her front door.

“It’s just so not you, Wills.” Ethan’s words cause Willa to freeze while turning her key into the lock in the hallway of her apartment complex. In retrospect, Ethan does have a point. Willa’s not entirely sure what she’s doing going out with the barman she’s been shamelessly flirting with for the past two months.

And while it’s slightly terrifying, Willa finds a rush of excitement scouring through her veins.

“What if that’s the point?” Her friend hums on the other line, and it’s one of those rare moments when Ethan is actually silent during conversation. Willa takes this in stride, locking up her front door and heading out towards the Underground near her complex.

She says goodbye to Ethan as she’s descending the cement stairs, knowing fully well that her reception will cut out the further down into the station she goes. Willa promises to call him the next morning, and reassures him that she’ll let him know if she needs a rescue (even though she’s fully certain that no danger will come her way with Harry by her side), and happily ends the call just as she’s stepped onto the platform.

The journey doesn’t take as long as Willa would like, considering she’s still wringing her hands together as her body is riddled with nerves when she gets off at the appropriate stop. While Harry has done nothing but make her feel comfortable, there’s no denying that for the first time since knowing him, she’s finally meeting him outside the comfort of The Churchill Arms. She’s finally going to be able to stand near him without the barrier of the bar between them, and while the thought of that is what sends her brain into overdrive, there’s no denying the nervous butterflies floating around her stomach, racking against her ribs until she’s forced to meet the situation head-on, exiting the Underground faster than when she first entered.

Once she’s on the pavement outside, she reaches for her mobile to pull up the address Harry sent her last night. According to her Maps, the pub is a short five minute trek from the tube station. Tucking her chin into her charcoal longline jacket to escape the biting wind, Willa starts walking, trying her hardest to quell the rib-racking nerves shaking her body.

Just as she’s a block away, she notices her destination on the corner of a somewhat quieter intersection. The building is tall, brick-faced at street level, a black sign with The Camden Eye written in capitalized white letters. The pub is lodged between a restaurant and a coffee shop that’s long since been closed. When Willa cranes her neck up, she can tell that it’s two-floors, with loud laughter reverberating through the cream-colored cement walls that have aged with time.

Willa’s head begins to search over the small crowd of people outside the front door, trying her hardest to spot curly hair amidst the cigarette smoke wafting around the entrance. Just as her eyes fall on a tall figure in a cable knit jumper and a long navy trench coat, eyes locked on the glowing screen of his mobile, her own vibrates in her left hand, and she notices it’s from Harry.

Hey, I’m waiting outside. Can’t wait to see you. x

She grins at the message, locking her phone instead of responding to his text considering he was standing just across the street from her. As she approaches him quietly, she takes this time to quietly acknowledge him. It’s sort of cute the way he stares at his phone, undoubtedly waiting for the bubbled three dots to appear with her response that won’t come. He shifts a bit in his brogue boots, the hand not holding his mobile nipping at his lower lip.

Willa wonders if Harry is as nervous as she is, too.

Before she can get caught, her heeled boots stop a few feet away from his, and she watches his head snap up when she calls out his name softly.

Almost instantly, Harry shoves his mobile into his pocket, no longer needing the distraction. Instead, his green eyes shift to Willa’s blue, and his mouth quirks up in that slanted boyish grin of his that she has grown to love, his dimples appearing through the light stubble surrounding his mouth. Willa watches as his eyes dart down from her face to scan over her outfit, and for the first time since knowing her, Harry finds that he quite enjoys the version of Willa standing in front of him.

This version wears denim jeans that are tight around the waist and upper thigh, before falling straight until cropping just at her ankles, showcasing her square-toed leather boots. He takes note of the haphazard holes in her trousers, giving Willa’s look a bit more edge than he’s normally accustomed to. Harry thanks the gods above that she’s wearing another top that shows just the perfect amount of cleavage, his eyes falling to the stacked gold necklaces resting on the smooth skin under her long neck.

While Willa appreciates the way Harry’s arms look in his collared work shirt, there’s something about the way he looks in a cable knit jumper that gets her heart racing just a bit quicker than normal. He looks to be the perfect mixture of comfort yet cool, and as her eyes linger on his waist hidden beneath a pair of worn-in denim trousers, she can’t help but be fully aware that she’s been ogling him for far too long.

But when her eyes finally catch his and she takes note of the surprised glint in his irises, she’s not embarrassed at all, because Harry’s also aware that he’s been caught, too.

“Was starting to think you’d bail on me,” Harry finally says, stepping a bit closer to her on the somewhat crowded pavement.

Willa giggles and Harry’s heart almost stills. “Told you I was coming, didn’t I?”

Harry’s starting to think that if he had to banter with her for the rest of his life, he probably wouldn’t mind it at all. In fact, the thought is practically all-consuming at this very moment.

“Well, I’m really glad you’re here.” His voice drops a bit as he takes one last step towards her, brown leather boots touching black. Both Harry and Willa are conscious of the fact that this is the closest they’ve ever been to each other. While Willa has always known Harry to be tall, she’s extremely aware of it now when he’s standing this close to her, leaning forward with his torso so that his neck falls to keep his eyes locked on hers. With this distance (or lack thereof) between them, Harry can smell Willa’s perfume without the overbearing scent of stale ale lingering in the air. He wants to bask in it for as long as he can.

“Me too,” Willa finally responds, reminding herself that she needs to pull herself together if she wants to get through this night without embarrassing herself any further.

Harry seems to sense it too, standing straight and gesturing his head towards the front entrance. “Ready to head in?”

Willa nods. “You wanted to spend your night off at another pub?” She watches the way Harry’s neck falls back as a loud laugh rips through his lungs, and she can’t keep her eyes off of the bob of his Adam’s apple and suddenly, her throat has gone completely dry.

“I’ve seen your local. Figured I’d show you mine,” Harry says, holding the heavy oak door open for her with that dimpled grin of his.

Once Willa’s stepped through the front entrance, she can’t help but take in the drastic difference between Harry’s local and her own. Willa takes in the sticky wooden flooring, chipped from overuse and stained from various liquors ruining the coating. The high-tops lining the walls are no different—antiquated and blemished, some wobbling in the corners, no doubt lacking a distinct charm. The bartop itself is busier than ever, long and sleek. Willa notices the overworked brown-haired barman pulling pints from the tap and heckling other patrons, and she finds almost everybody in this small pub knows each other in some strange way. The atmosphere is vibrant and light, loud and serene, and Willa finds it rightfully so that this is Harry’s local.

Because it’s practically him personified.

Before she can think too much of it, Harry’s long fingers are wrapped around her wrist and he’s dragging her straight to the far corner of the bartop where a small group of people are pulling long gulps from tall pint glasses. Just as they get close enough, Willa’s eyes widen when a few of them call out Harry’s name in heavy Northern accents, and she can’t help but watch the way he interacts with his mates.

They’re clapping his back while Harry appropriately says his hello’s, but before he can get lost in conversation with them, he turns his back towards the group and rests two strong hands on Willa’s shoulders, gripping the heavy material of her coat.

“Here, give me this,” he says softly, peeling off the fabric from her upper body with such intense care that Willa can feel her already dry throat practically barren at this point.

He watches her as he strips the wool from her thin arms, handing it back to her carefully as he rips his own off, before gathering both jackets easily in one hand. Once he tears his eyes off of hers, Harry grasps Willa’s wrist again, dragging her softly towards the far corner past where his friends reside, shouting over towards the brunette barman who’s neck nearly snaps in his direction once he hears Harry’s gruff call.

“Oi! Horan! Take care of these, would ya mate?” Willa watches as Harry rests the arm that isn’t holding their jackets on the bartop, heaving his upper body over the ledge so that the long material in his other hand does not lap up any spilled drink on the counter.

The barman grabs them, before entering a doorway behind him and disappearing into what Willa can only assume to be an office. Harry’s back in front of her now, smiling that toothy grin that makes Willa feel as if she’s completely lost the plot.

“Let’s get you a drink, yeah?” Willa just nods, afraid that if she tried to speak her voice would come out gravelly and hoarse. Harry’s hand slips into hers and he gives it a gentle tug until Willa is standing right beside him, her front resting against the bartop with Harry attached to her right side.

“Who’s this, Harry?” The barman asks once he’s reemerged from the back room in a muffled Irish accent. Willa watches as he gives Harry an amused look under his blue eyes, and she can feel Harry’s gaze shift from her left cheek back to the man in front of her.

“This is Willa.” Harry says her name as if it was something everybody should already know. And judging by the wide look in the barman’s eyes and the way Harry’s cheeks start to flush a rosy color, Willa can only guess that these people do, in fact, know exactly who she is.

And for some reason, that makes her feel all warm and gooey inside.

“Willa! Hiya, doll. ‘M Niall.” Willa smiles at Niall, watching the way the skin around his blue eyes crinkles when he gives her a gleaming grin. His arm is extended out towards hers, flannel shirt rolled up towards his elbows revealing untouched warm skin. When she shakes his hand, she makes sure not to break eye contact, and she watches as Niall gives Harry a look that seems to be laced with approval.

“I’ll take a pint of Fuller’s, mate,” Harry says to Niall before looking down at Willa with a shy look on his face. “Want your usual? Can’t be sure that it’ll taste as good as when I make it, but I’m sure Niall here could give it a go.” There’s no sign of an innuendo laced in Harry’s words, but for some reason, Willa can practically feel the sexul tension grow tenfold when he speaks to her. She shivers a bit, despite the fact that she is quite warm to begin with, before shaking her head and turning her attention towards Niall who is already, undoubtedly, staring at them with a knowing look in his eyes.

“I’ll just have a vodka tonic with lime, please.” Niall nods at her before grabbing a pint glass and heading over towards the taps, leaving Harry and Willa to themselves for a moment.

“What do you think so far?” Harry asks, his body mirroring Willa’s as it rests against the bartop, with nothing but his chin resting on his left shoulder, looking down at her under the curtain of his eyelashes.

Willa just smiles, cocking her chin upwards so that she’s looking right back at him, and Harry feels his lungs constricting for air. “Ask me after a few drinks.”

It’s coy and sultry and sexy, and the thesaurus in Harry’s brain is working overtime, but instead of getting lost in her gaze (something he’s quite positive he could do without really trying), Niall reappears with two drinks in his hand, sliding the clear glass over to Willa first before exchanging the pint for Harry’s credit card to start a tab.

“Cheers, Niall,” Willa says kindly, before taking the straw between her cherry lips and drinking a generous amount. The immediate rush of liquid alleviates the dryness of her throat, and she tries her hardest not to moan at the feeling.

Harry holds his pint up in Niall’s direction in thanks, before resting his right hip and elbow on the wooden countertop in order to face Willa. She mimics his movement, and Harry’s eyes watch every discerning shift of her body, the way her hips sway in her jeans, the way her tight blouse leaves little to the imagination. His eyes shift from her exposed neckline to her jaw, to her full lips, to the slope of her nose. Suddenly he feels parched, and he’s practically draining his beer once his eyes meet hers, watching the way her lips twitch upwards in a tempting smirk.

Before he can force his mouth to form words, a body approaches Harry's left side, and he feels the heavy arm of one of his mate’s wrap around his shoulders, nearly sloshing the beer over the rim of the pint glass. Sadly, he tears his eyes away from Willa.

“Who are you hiding from us, Harry?” He asks. He’s almost the same height as Harry, and when Willa looks at his grin, she can tell that he’s just trying to take the mick out of his friend. Before Harry can introduce her, Willa places her glass on the bartop and extends her hand to the dark-skinned man.

“Hi there. I’m Willa.” Once his larger hand is in Willa’s much smaller one, he glances over at Harry with a gigantic grin. Harry just nods back, his eyes showing nothing but adoration for the blonde-haired girl, and suddenly he’s realizing that his nerves about her meeting his mates were absolutely unnecessary.

Willa Tillerson can hold her own in any environment.

“Ah, Willa. Nice to meet ya, babe. I’m Marcus.” The inflection of her name only causes Willa to give Harry a look, one that’s laced with surprise and maybe a little bit of teasing. Because she’s found it quite endearing that he’s told his friends about her, and while the flush on his cheeks tells Willa that he’s a bit embarrassed by it, the quick wink she shoots in his direction tells him that he’s nothing to be worried about.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Willa takes a long gulp of her drink as Marcus starts talking to Harry about one of their other mutual friends. But before she could be left out for too long (not that she needed the constant attention to begin with), Harry suddenly asks Niall for another round and shifts the conversation to her, telling Marcus about her job and how successful she is at it.

She thinks that’s quite charming, to be fair.

“Wow, you’re working on a mansion in Knightbridge?! Blimey, that’s proper lush. Congrats! Pretty fuckin’ wicked, Willa,” Marcus says, reaching between Harry and Willa and smacking his hand on the bartop to get Niall’s attention. “Oi! Horan! Line up some shots, would ya? Harry’s date here’s earned ‘em!”

Both Harry and Willa try not to flush at the word date. Instead, their eyes meet through their periphery, and Harry’s not quite sure how long he can stay in this bar without pushing her up against the wooden walls and feeling her against every single ridge of his body.

Their eyes fall to the copper liquid in the shot glasses, noticing that Niall has poured a generous amount not only for the three of them, but for the rest of Harry’s mates as well. Willa doesn’t even look at them, though. She barely even acknowledges Niall when he shouts out a cheers! in their direction. No—instead her eyes are locked on Harry’s, taking note of the green and turquoise swirls, the golden sphere around his pupil, the way his eyelashes fan over the tops of his cheekbones, the way he licks his lips in preparation for the bitter liquid about to fall down his esophagus.

Harry’s watching her just as intently. Wonders how in this small space filled with people she’s the only person in his atmosphere. How everybody else has practically vanished at this point. How her hair shines under the shitty pub lighting, how her light blue eyes look like mirrors, how her red lips pucker a bit, her mouth hanging open just slightly so that Harry can see the tip of her tongue.

He can’t imagine looking at anybody else.

She doesn’t even want to think about anybody else.

Suddenly the shot glasses are in their hands, and without breaking eye contact, Willa leans a bit closer so that she doesn’t have to extend her arm too far in order to clink their glasses together. She’s so close that all she has to do is whisper a quiet, “Cheers, Harry,” in his direction, watching him mimic her words before bringing the rim to his lips and swallowing whole.

Harry’s eyes are locked on her lower lip, and he’s watching as her soft tongue darts out between the folds to lap up the whiskey dribble that never made it into her mouth. He shudders, his mind conjuring up any and every inappropriate thought, all filled with ice blue eyes and ruby full lips and her.

He’s not quite sure how he’s going to contain himself. But before he could harp on it much longer, Niall places another round in front of the pair, and Harry’s almost positive that the only thing that will make him calm down is liquor.

Or maybe, it’ll just make everything that much more difficult.

***

After an hour and a half, Harry’s almost positive that he’s going to burst.

He’s watching Willa from a short distance away mingling with the rest of the girls in his friend group. She’s taken to his friends quite easily, and while that’s impressive in its own right, Harry sort of wishes he could spend the entirety of his evening alone with just her.

Harry’s downed enough pints to make him that much more sociable, that much more calm, that much more pliant. But, the drinks have somehow made Willa that much more vivacious, that much more amorous, that much more teasing.

It first started when Marcus’s girlfriend complimented her boots, and somehow dragged her away from the comfort of Harry’s side. Before she could slip away, she made sure to rub her arm against Harry’s, flush her side against his, brush her fingers against his wrist, before slithering a couple feet away. He’s been trying his hardest to pay attention to the conversation going on in front of him, but every couple of passing minutes, he can feel Willa’s warm gaze on his. And whenever he looks over, she’s always staring up at him under her heavy eyelashes, keeping hold of his gaze before slipping the plastic straw between her lips.

Harry’s not sure how much longer he can hold on, to be fair.

With every passing drink that Niall generously places in front of Willa, she’s fully conscious of the fact that she’s turned into an absolute tease. And while she feels bad, she can’t really help herself, considering Harry is looking extremely delicious leaning against the bartop with the sleeves of his jumper pushed up, exposing his strong etched forearms and big hands.

She’s never one to lose her cool, but she can feel herself grappling with her self-control with each lingering gaze Harry leaves her with. Whether it’s on her eyes, or her lips, or her collarbones, or when he brazenly darts down to her chest—she instantly finds herself craving to be alone with him.

Willa’s not sure how much longer she can hold on, to be fair.

Once she realizes her third drink has been emptied, she kindly excuses herself from her conversation with Marcus’s girlfriend and slowly approaches the bartop near Harry and his friends. He notices her approaching just like he notices everything about her, and in a bold move, Willa sneaks by his frame, making sure to rub her front against his side, her hand falling just above his waist, as she excuses herself to get past him in order to reach Niall.

Harry doesn’t even excuse himself from his friends before he turns around and approaches Willa. She’s leaning against the bartop, her backside fully visible to Harry and he takes this moment to appreciate the length of her torso, the plushness of her backside, the reach of her legs. He places both palms on the wood outside of Willa’s forearms, easily wrapping himself around her body, resting his chest against her back. Willa smiles at the warmth, before adjusting her back a bit in order to feel the friction of Harry’s waist against her, noticing in her periphery the way Harry’s knuckles turn white against the edge of the counter.

“You’re killing me, Willa,” Harry whispers roughly into her ear, the tips of his curly locks tickling Willa’s cheeks. Instinctively, Willa tilts her head to the right, exposing more of her neck for Harry, practically moaning at the feeling of his lips so close to her pulse point.

“I could say the same for you,” Willa mutters back, pushing her backside almost completely flush against Harry’s front, and she jumps in surprise when she feels his right arm wrap around her waist.

“Are you suggesting something?” Although he’s whispering, his grainy voice cuts right through Willa’s insides, causing a shiver to run over her entire body. She can feel his words rush straight through her middle, falling lower and lower until they settle in her core, and she’s suddenly both hot and cold all over.

All of a sudden, Willa is spinning around until her back is against the bartop, with her elbows leaning on the edge, her front practically millimeters away from Harry’s. His eyes have grown darker and she’s fully aware of the rising and falling of his chest, and how his gaze has shifted towards her breasts, completely pushed out at this angle, and all she can think about is kissing his mouth.

But before they can, Niall places two more drinks on the countertop behind her. Harry’s hooded eyes snap up to his friend, and Willa takes note of the strained look he shoots in his direction. Niall clearly has bad timing, and while Willa would normally turn around and acknowledge the barman politely, she suddenly has the urge to dismiss all of her morals and forego most of the rules.

Harry fully expects her to turn around at the intrusion, but after Niall walks away and he realizes that Willa is still trapped in between his arms, his eyes dart down to hers and he sees her white teeth biting her plush lower lip, and he’s completely lost all self-control.

Willa runs a long pointer finger down the lines of his chest, and Harry’s eyes watch the path she traces starting from the middle of his pectorals, falling down the tenseness of his abdominal muscles, before settling just above the button of his trousers. Harry’s certain that Willa’s pupils are as dark as his, and when she lightly traces over the zipper of his jeans, a loud groan forms in Harry’s throat and he’s almost positive he’s about to break in half.

“I’m gonna head to the loo,” Willa says, grabbing her drink with the hand that was just tracing a tantalizing path to Harry’s nether region. Her grip on his forearm is a signal for Harry to move out of the way, but he’s suddenly found himself frozen in place. “If you’re up for it, I’ll make sure the door is locked.”

Willa sneaks away before she can take in Harry’s slacked jaw.

He turns around just in time to catch one last look at the undulation of her hips in her tight jeans, and suddenly he’s downing half of the fresh pint in front of him. He ignores the smirk Niall shoots in his direction, ignores his name falling from Marcus’s lips, ignores basically everything in his sight until he’s standing in the far less crowded hallway where the toilets are.

Harry waits until the girl in front of him enters and leaves the loo before he nearly breaks the wooden door down in order to reach Willa. He finds her by the sinks touching up her lipstick, and before he can even check if the coast is clear, she’s pushing him back against the door, flicking the lock with one hand before wrapping it around the back of Harry’s neck and bringing his lips to hers.

It’s as if time stands still, and it’s a bit surprising for both of them considering their minds have constantly been filled with visions of the other person doing exactly this. But as Willa feels Harry’s tongue slither against hers, and Harry feels Willa’s teeth bite at the flesh of his lower lip, and they both feel warm hands grasping at their sides—it’s as if everything makes sense.

Harry snakes his hands around Willa’s waist, leaving one above her hip while the other palms her ass in her trousers. Willa squeals inside Harry’s mouth, before interlocking her arms behind Harry’s neck, crawling her fingers up the back of his head, pushing and pulling at the soft tendrils along the way.

It’s everything and more and Harry feels as if he could finish in his pants, because kissing Willa is the one plaguing thought that’s driven him completely mad for the past two months. And now that it’s finally happening and she’s here in front of him pulling his hair and biting his lip and moaning his name into his own mouth, he feels as if he’s floating through air.

Willa slots her legs in between Harry’s before grinding her hips against his, and the sudden friction causes Harry to pull apart from Willa’s lips and rest his head back against the door, moaning loudly into the ceiling. The sound makes Willa squirm against his front, and she begins to mouth at Harry’s exposed neckline, running her tongue over his throbbing pulse point before sucking harshly on the skin.

Harry’s never been so hungry for a girl ever in his life, and with each lick and bite at his flushed neck, he can feel himself grow harder and harder against his pants. He’s desperate for friction, and once Willa begins lapping at the strip of skin just above the collar of his jumper, he shifts his hips forward so that she can feel him against her clothed core.

The force of the pleasure causes Willa to still against Harry’s neck, and when Harry pushes forward a second time, she can’t help the whimper that falls from her mouth. Once Harry hears it, he wraps his fingers in her blonde hair before bringing her face forward so that he can connect their lips once more.

Willa’s never felt so many things all at once—it’s as if an electrical current has shot straight into her chest, and the only thought she can think of is Harry. He’s moved his hand from her hip to her right breast, and the smooth kneading causes her to grind against Harry again, a breathless fuck falling from her lips into Harry’s mouth.

When they break apart for air, Willa can see her lipstick on Harry’s mouth and it’s enough to send her into a frenzy. Harry notes her blown out pupils, her messy hair, her smudged lips, and it’s as if he’s completely lost all restraint.

Willa’s eyes dart down to Harry’s stifling erection trapped inside his trousers and without even thinking, she begins to palm him through the denim. His forehead falls into the crook of Willa’s neck, and she can feel him heavily panting with each hot breath that scorches her already flaming skin. His muffled moans prompt Willa to pop the button of his jeans, her fingers falling towards the zipper slowly.

Before she can reach under the waistband of his pants, three loud knocks form against the other side of the door, and Willa’s hands immediately fall to her side. Harry’s head lifts from her neck, darting towards the door before falling back to Willa’s eyes.

She calls out a quick “one minute!” before breathing loudly through her front teeth, creating a soft whistle with her frustrated huff. Harry quickly buttons up his jeans before pressing his forehead against Willa’s, sighing breathlessly against her warm skin.

“As much as I like your mates,” Willa starts, “Any chance we can get out of here?”

Harry laughs a bit before nodding, pressing a quick kiss against her forehead. “My flat’s close by.” Willa finds herself nodding, her mind completely clouded over by lust and the fact that she very nearly had Harry’s cock in her hand in the inside of a public toilet in a tiny pub in the middle of Camden.

From the dazed look in Harry’s eyes, Willa can confirm that he feels the same, and all at once he flicks the lock beside them, grabbing Willa and holding her a bit close to his front as they hurriedly rush over to the bar to close his tab, praying her body covers his half-hard erection in his jeans that practically hide nothing.

With the safety of the bartop covering his lower half, Harry calls out to Niall before grabbing a handful of notes from his wallet, throwing them on the wooden top without even double checking the amount. Niall gives both of them a knowing look, taking in their flushed cheeks and unkempt hair, before cackling loudly at the pair.

“You two have fun!” Once they have their jackets, Harry grabs Willa’s hand and leads the way to the front door, not even sparing his friends a second look. He doesn’t even think to put on his trench coat, his body still blistering from wherever Willa’s hands were placed. She feels the same, rushing after Harry wordlessly as he drags them through the busy streets of Camden, racing towards his flat to keep this sexually charged energy-filled bubble from popping.

Before long, they reach an old brick building that looks as if it were once a factory of some sort, but was recently transformed into a modernized apartment building. Willa doesn’t get the chance to observe it much longer, because before she knows it, Harry’s punched in the code to the front door and shoves her into the open elevator door before pressing his lips back to hers.

It’s quick and hurried and somehow completely satisfying every craving itching up Willa’s skin. She’s not even sure what floor he’s clicked or how much time they have left in this confined space, but her fingers are pulling at his chocolate tresses and his hands are gripping her jaw and cupping her cheek and all she can think about is how much she’s been waiting for this moment to finally happen and now that it’s here, she’s kicking herself for waiting this long to feel it.

Harry breaks away once the elevator doors have opened, and with one last peck he’s gripping her waist and shuffling them towards the last door on the right of the short hallway, holding her against the slate grey door before picking up where they left off. Willa’s moaning into his lips and he can feel her clawing at the material of his jumper, and before they can get too carried away, he shoves his key into the lock and thrusts them both into his dark flat.

He flicks a switch on to the right and before Willa can get adjusted to the new light, Harry’s mouth is at her neck and his hands are inching their way up towards her chest, pushing her back against the door and she feels completely lightheaded.

“Harry, fuck. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” Willa says, her head falling back against the heavy door as Harry kisses along every inch of her exposed neck.

“God, been thinkin’ about this for months, Willa. You’ve no clue what you do to me, do you?” He’s speaking against her skin, his lips ghosting over the upper swells of her breasts. The feeling is almost too much, and Willa feels her body arching from the door and pressing her chest closer towards Harry’s mouth, needing every inch of his searing mouth against her skin.

His palm cups over her core above her jeans and she sighs out blissfully. He hasn’t even touched her yet, and Willa feels herself freefalling towards the edge. She’s not sure if it’s because she hasn’t been touched like this in a long time, or if she’s been waiting for this moment with Harry for months now, but she’s completely enraptured by him and all she wants is him inside of her.

“Show me, then.” Willa’s words cause Harry’s lips to pause against her chest. His head shoots up and his eyes meet hers, and Willa watches the smirk work its way against his lips.

“Is that what you want?” His voice is husky and he’s leaning in so closely that the words form over Willa’s swollen lips, and they’re enough to cause the wetness to spread inside her knickers.

Willa grips the back of Harry’s neck tightly, her fingertips ruffling the hair at the base. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

Harry groans before bringing his lips roughly to Willa’s, dragging her away from the front door and leading her into his bedroom. On the way, Willa steps out of her boots, flings her jacket and purse somewhere, not even caring if Harry has a roommate or someone who would be bothered by the noises escaping their mouths.

Harry does the same, and she can sense that even if he did have a roommate, he could give less of a fuck if he or any other neighbor of his could hear what the two of them are doing. They finally reach the entryway of his bedroom, and when they part for air, Willa presses her body tightly against Harry’s and she can feel every inch of pleasure coursing through his veins.

She brings her palms to Harry’s front and begins rubbing him over his jeans, running her fingers along the strained length of his cock hidden under the fabric against his thigh, and the throaty moan that escapes his mouth is the only affirmation she needs to unbutton his pants and pull them down his legs.

Willa falls with them, kneeling on the hardwood floor and bringing her lips to the tip of his cock. She licks a stripe from the base of his shaft all the way up to the tip, making sure to outline the hardened vein on the outside, pulsing against his skin.

Harry shudders, weaving his hands around the back of Willa’s neck and gathering her hair into a messy ponytail to ensure it doesn’t get in the way. He watches as she wraps her mouth around the tip, flattening her tongue against the rest of him as she works her way down, inching herself closer and closer down until he’s practically completely enveloped in her throat.

“Holy fuck. Are you real?” Harry calls out between grunts, and the second she looks up at him through the thick of her eyelashes, he can immediately feel himself careening towards the edge, remembering how he thought of her in this position multiple times.

He pulls at her hair, signalling he needs her to stop deepthroating him. Willa lets him go, the suctioning pop reverberating through the quiet bedroom once he’s no longer in her mouth. She pouts up at him, and the vision along with her sticky lips is enough to cause Harry to roll his eyes behind his head.

“Christ, babe. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last if you keep doing that,” Harry groans, reaching down to pull her up so that she’s back standing in front of him. He pushes a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face behind her ear, and Willa settles into the open palm of his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I’ve been picturing you doing that to me for months. So the fact that it’s actually happening I just—shit. Need a minute.”

Willa smirks before inching her fingers under his jumper, walking them up the ridges of his stomach before settling on his chest. “Yeah? What else have you pictured me doing?”

Harry’s eyes widen at her forwardness and he can practically feel his cock twitch against his stomach. “You really want me to tell you?”

Willa smiles, resting her other hand against Harry’s jaw and bringing it close to her mouth. “I’d rather you show me.”

Harry growls before stepping out of his jeans and pants and walking her backwards to his bed. He pulls his jumper over his head, exposing the warm planes of his skin littered with various tattoos. Willa’s hands immediately trace the outlines, her lips hovering over the matching sparrows under his collarbones causing Harry to moan loudly.

“You’re far too overdressed,” Harry mumbles against her lips, reaching forward and pulling her shirt over her head, her breasts hidden under a nude lace underwire bra. Harry’s eyes fall towards her chest, before following the lines of her stomach until his hands begin hovering over the buttons of her jeans.

“Please tell me whatever’s under here will match,” Harry says, his mind completely stupefied at the sight of her half-naked in front of him.

“Why don’t you pull those down and find out?” Willa’s words cause Harry to whimper, and before she can even blink, Harry has pried her legs from her jeans, his mouth watering at the sight of her see-through matching knickers.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Harry says, taking a step back and watching the way she looks splayed out over his duvet. He’s completely hooked on her, one hundred and fifty percent fucked by the way her hair falls over his pillows, the way her chest puffs out against her bra, the way her long legs fall from the ends of her knickers.

He’s in awe.

Willa looks up at him in that way that makes his mind fall to mush, and with a quiet “c’mere,” he’s completely hers.

She brings her mouth back to his and his hands instantly fall to her back to unclip her bra. Her hands fall to his backside, pressing him against her clothed core, begging for friction. She moans when Harry’s lips fall to her chest, before wrapping his mouth around one of her nipples, lapping his tongue against the pilled bud, causing Willa to lift her back completely off the mattress.

His hands graze over her core, cupping her heat as his mouth moves to her other breast. She feels him push the lace fabric of her underwear to the side, before slipping his middle finger into her wet folds. She’s a writhing mess underneath him, and as much as she loves the touching and kissing and kneading, she needs more.

“Harry,” Willa gasps, her own palm sliding up and down his shaft, causing him to groan against her chest. “I need you to fuck me.”

He stills, looking up at her through clouded eyes. “Yeah?”

Her hand squeezes a little harder around him, and she pushes her body upwards to graze against his, watching the way his eyes shut tight in pleasure. “Please.”

He nods, reaching over into his bedside table for a condom, leaning over her again and ridding her of the last layer of clothing between them until they’re both flushed skin against flushed skin. His eyes scan her body, and when he looks at her, she can practically feel the devotion falling from his gaze.

“Are you sure? Can’t guarantee I’ll last long,” He admits, and as much as Willa appreciates his affable claim, she really just needs him inside of her. Without speaking, she grabs the condom from his hand and rips the foil open with her teeth, before sliding it down the length of his cock.

“I’ve never been more sure. Show me what you fantasize, Harry. I’m here.” That’s all Harry needs before he’s lined up at her entrance, slowly sliding into her warmth.

He makes sure to take his time, allowing Willa to get adjusted to the feeling of his length inside of her. It takes her a moment, but once Harry’s almost three-fourths of the way inside, the pinching feeling suddenly fades into something almost euphoric, and instantly her hand reaches out to grip Harry’s wrist by her head.

“More, Harry. I need more.” He groans into her neck, sliding out of her almost completely, before pushing all the way inside, bottoming out with one loud cacophonous groan.

He gathers his rhythm quickly after that, and when Willa wraps one hand around his glistening bicep and the other pulls at the curls at the base of his neck, he reaches down to lift her ankle over his shoulder, the other hand kneading her breast and his mouth latches against her own.

The new angle allows Harry to reach that plushy spot along Willa’s walls, forcing her back to arch off the mattress and her fingernails to dig into the skin around Harry’s bicep. “Oh my god, Harry. Yes. Right there.”

“Fuck Willa, you feel so good. Love when you say my name,” Harry says against her mouth, his teeth clacking against hers, tongue sliding in to taste every inch of her.

“Harry!” Willa calls out through a moan when he lifts her leg higher into the air, causing him to reach deeper inside of her than ever before. He’s nothing but a narcissist, and the sound of his name crying out of Willa’s lips is enough to cause his movements to falter a bit, his release coming far quicker than he imagined.

“Shit, babe. I’m close,” Harry says against her neck, his eyes fall towards her navel where he can see the tip of his cock push inside of her. The vision is enough to cause him to spiral down down down, but he needs to make sure Willa is close too before he completely falls into the abyss.

“Me too, Harry—fuck! Me too,” Willa squeaks. The fingers resting against Willa’s chin inch their way towards her mouth, and instinctively, Willa wraps her mouth around them, sucking deliberately while watching the way Harry’s mouth parts in wonderment.

He reaches down to circle against her clit with his wet fingers, and after a few more timed pumps inside of her, Willa’s crying out against his skin, her fingernails digging harshly into his bicep. Harry likes the pain, and that coupled with the sounds falling from Willa’s mouth is enough to push him towards his release.

He languidly pumps slowly in and out of her until her body has grown limp underneath him. Slowly, he pulls out of her, and Willa immediately frowns at the warmth dissipating from her insides. Harry rolls onto his back beside her, discarding the condom in the bin near his bedside table and trying his hardest to catch his breath.

“That was—”

“—Yeah.”

Willa’s giggling softly beside him, and the sound is enough to cause Harry to smile widely, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and bringing her to rest comfortably against his chest. Their skin is sticky from exertion, and Willa’s hair is knotted from Harry’s hands pulling through the tendrils, and Harry’s arms feel bruised from Willa’s fingers, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Can’t believe it took us that long,” Willa says against his chest, causing Harry to laugh loudly from above her.

“Yeah, we fucked up a bit on that one, I reckon,” Harry says back, combing his fingers through her long blonde hair. Willa hums at the comforting feeling, and she reciprocates the same, running her fingers lightly over the moth tattoo under his chest calmingly.

Maybe it was the alcohol she consumed this evening, or maybe it was the fatigue to her body from what her and Harry just did, or just maybe it was the fact that she had never felt more comfortable wrapped up in another person’s embrace, but almost instantly, Willa finds herself falling asleep, her soft breathing pattern lulling Harry into the same comfortable darkness.

***

It’s the absence of warmth that causes Harry to wake in the middle of the night. He looks over to where he remembers feeling Willa sleeping against him, and finds that his bed is empty. The only reminder of her ever being in his bed is the crinkled sheets and the overwhelming smell of her shampoo on his pillowcase.

His eyes dart over towards the clock on his bedside table informing him that it’s nearly five in the morning. He looks around a bit to see if she’s crept into the en-suite attached to his bedroom, but he finds the light off and no sign of movement inside.

Harry’s a bit bummed, to be fair. Although Willa never explicitly told him that she’d stay, he never would have pegged her to pull a runner in the middle of the night. Especially after the mindblowing sex they shared.

Or was it just mediocre for her? Harry thinks, silently cursing himself for underperforming in any form. He can’t really blame himself. He’s been imagining Willa doing the unspeakable acts she performed on him a few hours ago for months now, so he can’t really blame himself for finishing quickly.

Before he can mull over any other scenarios, the sound of bare feet padding against hardwood flooring causes Harry’s eyes to scan over the hallway. Willa approaches silently, tip-toeing into his bedroom wearing nothing but Harry’s discarded white undershirt, falling against the middle of her thighs. Her hands are deep inside a box of Golden Grahams, and the sight is enough to cause Harry’s heart to thump loudly in his chest, relief rushing through his veins.

He starts laughing, and immediately Willa locks her eyes on him, her chewing abruptly stopping. She swallows harshly before speaking. “I didn’t mean to wake you! I was just, er, hungry.” Willa holds up the cereal box slightly, and Harry just beckons her over with his outstretched hand.

“You gonna share?” Harry asks teasingly, and his just-woken-up thick voice is enough to cause her lower stomach to warm significantly in pleasure.

Willa giggles quietly while treading over to the bed, squeaking when Harry’s arms wrap around her waist and she crashes into his lap, her legs slithering around his waist comfortably with the cereal box in between them.

He reaches his hand in and scoops out a large mouthful, before tipping the open box in her direction and allowing her to do the same. She’s smiling through her chews, watching the way Harry’s jaw works through crushing the cereal bits before his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow.

Suddenly, Willa isn’t hungry for cereal anymore. She places the box on the ground near the bed, before wrapping her legs tighter around Harry’s waist, settling herself lightly on Harry’s lap. His hands wrap around her backside, his fingers squeezing the soft skin underneath her thighs, causing her to ground down a bit more against his hips.

“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore,” Willa says quietly, her hands falling comfortably around Harry’s shoulders. She watches his lips form that crooked grin that makes her smile right back at him, and slowly his mouth starts to lean towards hers.

“Good, because I’m thinking there’s other things we can be doing,” Harry says against her lips, before pushing her closer to his half-hard bulge and licking his way into her mouth, groaning at the sugary flavor residing on her tongue.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Willa’s teasing and Harry’s come to the conclusion that he quite enjoys her this way. Without answering, Harry reaches for the hem of his shirt and pushes it over her head, discarding it aimlessly on his floor.

“Whatever you want to do, Willa,” Harry says earnestly, noting the way her eyes twinkle in the moonlight falling through his window. She’s beautiful, and he suddenly realizes that his statement was true.

He’d do anything she wanted, as long as she keeps looking at him the way she is at this very moment.

Willa somehow knows how he feels without him needing to express words. She can see it in his eyes, the same ones that have looked at her for months through the crowded bar. And now that they’re in front of her, staring at her with nothing but adoration and fondness, she’s almost positive there’s no other place she’d rather be.

“I just want you,” she whispers, closing the space between them with a kiss, meaning every word.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #hs #harry styles fic #harry x ofc #harry x reader #harry styles smut #1dff #1dffupdates #fic: stir me up #stellarboystyles3years

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donaidk · 4 years ago

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Marcus Armstrong - Almost Home I.

In advance: This is getting a Part 2 for sure. I don’t want to leave it here, but at the same time I felt like it would be really long if I left it in one piece. Turns out I have a whole lot of inspiration for Marcus fics right now. 😂 I also wanna let everyone, who’s waiting for their request, know that uni is starting next week for me. It means less free time, but I will make sure to finish every one of them in the next week or so, and then focus on all the series I started. There’s gonna be slower updates to them, but I’ll make sore to have one or two per week at least. Hopefully they won’t try to kill us in the starting weeks and I will finish up the Lando one so I could start posting that every week and just add some parts from the others to the queue 😊

Thank you Anon for requesting this one though, and sorry for the wait. Hope you will enjoy it and as it’s almost the next day here, have a really happy start to your Friday everyone 🧡

Kind of Taglist: @mickschumcher, @art-gp

Title Song | Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

With the Australian GP knocking on the door Melbourne filled up with tourists and fans even more than usual. The first time I got to witness it in 2017 was actually scary in a way for someone who didn’t know the city well yet. Getting from one part of the city to another was a hard task already, and all the shouting and crazy fans weren’t of much help when I tried to get some usable info out of them so I could finally get to my destination and get off the streets. It almost held me back from choosing Melbourne’s university, but I had to remind myself that it was just once a year and I shouldn't give up my plans because of it. Melbourne was beautiful and their schools were highly rated, giving me everything for a stable future. Luckily I was never disappointed by my choices as it was easy to get used to the life here and I even found some new friends who helped me every time I felt homesick. It wasn’t the worst usually, as I was truly content with how my life was going, but sometimes it just hit me out of nowhere and in those moments they were always there for me.

It was now the third year when we lived through the race weekend, meaning we finally had a working schedule with which we still followed our usual plans but stayed out of the bigger crowds. Although we were in the middle of the semester we always found time to enjoy the still warm weather and spend most of our free time outside. Usually our choice was the beach for the afternoons as even though it was packed until noon, the tourists never stayed for long. We usually arrived in the late afternoon and stayed well after the sun went down, and the temperature went down a little finally. The water usually stayed comfortable until later in the evening making it bearable for almost a whole 24 hours if you weren’t squeamish. Even if you were after spending a few weeks at the beach, everyone got used to it.

As soon as everyone finished with their lectures we got our things together and took the 5 minutes walk down to the beach. We had a favourite spot which was luckily never taken when we got down there. For a few minutes we just sat down, talking about our weeks. I shared a dorm room with two other girls, but we had a few friends who had their own apartments or lived with their family a bit farther away from our university. We usually had one or two days every week to catch up with them as in between lectures we were either too tired or didn’t have the time to do so. But most of the afternoons were ours fully and we used it the best we could to relax but still use that time to make memories for the few years we’re spending together. We could say it’s gonna stay the same after we graduate but everyone knew we would move to different countries as soon as we weren’t connected to Australia. Even I planned to go home, although I enjoyed living here and getting to be independent without my family behind my back.

“ Are you coming? ” One of the girls asked me, as they were already walking down to the water, while I was still standing around our towels with my phone in my hand. I was in the middle debating which sunset photo I should post from my gallery, but her voice made me look up.

“ Just a second. I’ll catch up. ” I smiled at her before looking back down at my screen. In the end my finger finally tapped the posting button and I pushed it aside while I got the sundress off that was on over my bikini.

Right before I would have ran after the girls, the device was back in my hands so I could check that the picture uploaded without a problem. A smile got on my face when I saw a reaction from one of my family members but as soon as it showed the whole list of the people who looked at my story, it faded away. For the past few months whenever I posted something he was always there in the first few seconds or at least minutes. I couldn’t understand what changed that he showed up in my life again, but I didn't really want to give him space in my thoughts either. It has been almost 4 years since we last talked and could call each other best friends, but I wasn’t about to take the first step and message him after he forgot about me until now. I just dropped my phone back into my bag, closing it and then caught up with my friends so they could make me forget about him again.

We spent quite some time in the water, swimming a few laps back and forth before just standing around and enjoying the last rays of sunshine while we chatted away. My thoughts were already in a different direction thanks to all the different topics that came up between us. Sometimes it was harder to make me forget time and time again, but turns out today I only needed some distraction and everything was set for an enjoyable night. With the sun completely off the sky the temperature dropped quickly and it was getting a bit chilly for my liking in just a few minutes. When it was truly uncomfortable I gave up and walked back to the shore, sitting down on my own blanket and draping my towel around my shoulders. It immediately brought enough warmth over my body that I stopped shivering and could wait for them until they would get cold too. Until then I just went onto my phone to go through some posts of my friends. Sometimes I looked up to check on them just so they wouldn’t leave me out of something. One of those times I saw a person coming my way and although I didn’t mind too much attention to it, when he continued and there was no one else in my close proximity I felt like he might be coming to me. In the end I was right as he turned right towards me and then stopped just a few steps away from our blankets.

“ Never thought you would exchange our lovely and perfect red stars for ugly white ones. ” He spoke up and I could recognise the voice even though his face was almost unseeable thanks to him standing with his back towards the moon. My jaw dropped immediately and I felt like I grew roots into the ground as I couldn’t move my body. “ If you want me to fuck off, just tell me. It’s okay. I just thought we could maybe talk, and from the pictures I saw that you’re here. Hoped you didn’t go home yet so I could catch you and... ” He started rambling but I was quick to finally push myself up and hug him immediately. I always imagined our reunion with me being angry at him, but somehow I couldn’t get myself to feel that way now that he was standing right in front of me.

“ You idiot. ” I told him not leaving any space for questions and I could feel as he finally relaxed and hugged me back. “ The biggest in the whole world. ” I added with a sigh, closing my eyes as my brain started functioning again and I had an urge to kick his shin at least.

“ I can live with that. ” Marcus let out a laugh and I could feel as my heart jumped a little at the sound. It was something that always reminded me of our home and spending every possible second together. “ I’m sorry for disappearing. ” He let out a sigh, letting go of me only when we realised my wet bathing suit soaked his shirt, although even he didn’t care about it for too long.

“ What are you doing here? I thought F2 wasn't coming here. ” I asked him confused, knowing that we wouldn’t be in this situation if he traveled here for one of the races in the past two years. “ Not like I’m complaining, but I can hardly believe my own eyes and senses. ” I shook my head a little before looking up at him again. He changed, quite a bit since we last met and even though I saw pictures of him it was different in a face-to-face situation.

“ Ferrari invited a few of us so we could gather some experience. The speed I accepted the offer with might have raised some eyebrows. ” Marcus hid his face in his palm, making me chuckle as I could see the situation unfold in front of my eyes like I was there. “ Thought I would DM you and ask if you wanted to meet up maybe. But I realized it would be better offline. ” I had to roll my eyes at his first idea although I knew he wasn’t lying and it for sure went through his brain as a real possibility.

“ You’re lucky you didn’t. I would have blocked you forever I think. My plan was connecting my fist with your face if we ever meet again, right until you showed up here. ” I shook my head with a smile, as I wasn’t proud of what I wanted to do to him. “ I was really angry when you just stopped talking to me. I tried so hard to reach you, but it felt like you didn’t even exist anymore even though they were talking about you almost every week. ” I sighed, sitting back down and leaving enough space for him too.

“ Would have been deserved actually. ” His fingers scratched at the nape of his neck and I could see the tint of purple traveling up his neck. I watched him as he sat down, pulling his legs up and resting his arms onto them. “ I really am sorry. For a part everything got busy with all the training, races and studying, but at the same time I know damn well a message here and there should have been possible. I messed up, everything. ” His eyes shined even in the minimal light of the moon, and I could get myself to look away. Even feeling the burning stares on my back from my friends didn’t get me to turn around.

“ I won’t say that it’s okay, but I accept your apology. How could I not. ” I let out a breath that I realized was still stuck in me since the initial surprise took over my body. “ It feels like we didn’t even skip over like 3 years of each other’s life. Only difference is that you’re finally taller than me, but the baby face’s still there. ” My hand went up to his cheek to pat it gently like my grandma did for him all the time when he came over for lunch. He always hated it but knew that it was a gesture of love from her and a way to show Marcus that she considered him part of our family.

“ Yeah, I guess it’s going to stay forever. ” Marcus huffed, moving his head back a little to avoid my attack, although he failed miserably. “ I almost forgot, congrats for uni. I remember how hard you were studying to get in. Everyone home was ecstatic when I told them about it. ” His hand slapped his forehead, making me laugh with his expression at the slight stinging he caused himself.

“ Thank you, but it’s nothing compared to your second place last year. ” I shrugged a little but as soon as his lips pulled into a slight smirk my eyes rolled on their own. “ Surprise, surprise, I followed your career. Just as much as you followed my life for the past few months. ” I poked him in the ribs with my finger, making him wince for a second before we both started laughing at the little sound he made.

“ Fair. I still hate how Instagram shows who opened your stories. ” He shook his head a little and both of our heads turned towards the water when we realized the background chatting was getting closer and closer to where we were sitting. They were just a few meters away when my eyes landed on their figures and I sensed when Marcus stood up from next to me, making me push myself up too.

I didn’t feel too anxious about him meeting my other friends, although I knew what this meant for my evening at the dorm with them. They would have an immense amount of questions both about him and us, even though I already mentioned him when we were bringing up our past. A few of them even knew about my past feelings about him and how him reappearing on my socials played with my emotions, but they only saw a few photos of him. This was another level and I knew he would be the topic for at least the next week between us, for one reason or another. Depends on how we get on from this point and if we manage to keep in contact when they have to fly away again.

“ Oh, I knew it wasn’t just my imagination. I told you someone was coming here. ” My roommate spoke up as soon as they got close enough to make us out from the darkness. “ You’re Marcus, right? ” She stepped right in front of him, reaching her hand out while introducing herself. I always admired her boldness even in front of strangers.

“ Yes, although I didn’t know so many people knew me from here. ” Marcus let out an uneasy chuckle, looking at me a bit concerned. I just shook my head dismissively, almost telling him that it was just a ‘Girl group’ thing. Relief washed over me though that I didn’t share a lot about him, behind his back.

I watched from the sideline as everyone introduced themselves to him and for a second it felt domestic as all of them shot me a concerned glance towards me. It felt like they would pounce at him if they saw that I was uncomfortable in his presence. While it made me feel loved in a way, I also didn’t want them to really chip on the situation. It was something that better dealt with in private as I felt like we had to talk lots of things through to get back to the friendship we left behind years ago. This wasn’t the setting for a conversation like that.

“ We should probably get home before it gets really late. School won’t wait in the morning. ” I spoke up before any of them could start questioning him. We would never be able to get going then. “ Maybe we can catch up sometime before the race? I’m sure you will have enough to do during the weekend. ” I turned back towards Marcus who looked just as relieved as I did seconds ago.

“ Yeah, that would be better. Maybe lunch, or a coffee in the afternoon? Whenever you’re free of course. ” He nodded a little, still glancing at the girls who were either packing up or staring him down behind me.

“ I’m up for either of those. Surprise me. ” I grinned at him, feeling the pull on my arm when everyone was ready. “ Is your number the same? ” I asked him, already taking a step back, but waiting for his answers.

“ Yes. Never changed. ” Marcus nodded again, a little smile playing on his lips at the idea that we’re going to meet up again probably. At least I hoped so. Why else would he stalk me down and come up to me for a chat?

“ I’m gonna text you in the morning when’s my last lecture. We can meet up after that. ” I told them, before turning around with one last wave and catching up to my group. I could only hope that they would at least let me sleep before the questions start pouring out of them all at once.

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fichtner-fics · 3 years ago

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Peek-a-boo!

Dear People!

I'm back after more than a year, and what's more, in the next post I'll bring you a new fanfiction.

Quick explanation, which I don’t think you care, but you deserve. I know that I've been gone for a long time; like for no one around me, it hasn't been an easy time for me either. My energies have been mostly tied up with my university work. In this respect, the next six months will not be a walk in the park either; I will be working on my thesis until the spring, completing my three years of media and communication studies. If all goes well, after this I will take a course in museum education, turning towards the path I have long wanted to follow.

I think, I hope rather that with this little personal perspective I can bridge the gap of a year between us. Every now and then I would pop up here, and then my heart would be warmed by the tens and twenties of notes that I received from you. I am happy and grateful that you have not forgotten me, that you continue to read my writings, and that you continue to keep the fandom alive!

I also decided on the fate of the requests. Due to the fact that I can't come here regularly to check what ideas you've sent in, and especially because I don't have time to watch Prison Break or any series (of William’s) at all right now, I'm quite uninspired, I've decided to close the requests. I hope it is not permanent, and the good news is that it is not a strict closure. Feel free to write me if you think of anything and would like it to become a story one day. I'm going to have a few weeks off from my uni-tasks now; I thought I'd upload some of my long-finished writing to you, to add some new content to the site and to the fandom. Not all at once, of course; from time to time, one at a time :)

Let me know how you're doing, I'd love to know how you're feeling, if you're well and how you've coped over the past year, all the good, all the bad, whatever you'd like to share!

I sincerely hope that you will enjoy everything I upload for you, and last but not least, I'm looking forward to reading new Fichtner-fics from you as well! ❤

hugs, kisses, butterflies;

#fichtner-fics #William Fichtner #back from the void #hello again #i love you all #and I'm so thankful for y'all too #Fichtner #Alex Mahone #alexander mahone fanfiction #Carl Hickman #Hickman #Crossing Lines #Prison Break #Michael Scofield

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winchesterxxi · 4 years ago

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Come Back (Obi Wan x Reader) | Part 2/2

Rating: T (Teen and Up Audiences)

Type: Angst

Summary: About a year later since Reader was last seen, word comes to the Jedis that there is a new Sith Lord that has been building a reputation on killing Jedi Masters. Obi Wan is sent to investigate.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, deviations from canon, descriptions of violence, death.

A/N: Really poorly written, I apologize but my mind is all over with uni work

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

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Dagobah.

A new Sith Lord had been tormenting the galaxy for the past few months, taking villages at a time in search of Jedi Masters, or so the word ran. As it had been made known by the Council, this Sith hasn’t taken a single civilian life but rather targeted the Jedis that would come to defend them. Almost as if luring them to their deaths.

Mace Wu managed to detect a pattern in the planets this Sith Lord visited and deduced that Dagobah was the logical subsequent destination.

It was a rupture in the path of civilian planets the Sith had visited: Dagobah was one of the purest locations in the galaxy, one of the strongest with the Force, Qui-Gon had taught him once, only ever visited by Jedis – the perfect trap.

Obi-Wan felt a dutiful need to be the one to fly out to this planet and be the one fighting with the Sith and, hopefully, bring an end to their destruction.

Dagobah’s ground was hard to walk in, the mud and soft soil pulling at each of Obi-Wan’s steps made his expedition all the harder and slower. He was alone, only accompanied by trees and the animal lifeforms that inhabited the planet, but there was something else.

Just as he had expected the Force was strong on this location, both Living and Cosmic. All of his senses were enhanced and his head felt in a state between euphoria and bliss, and he had to focus harder in the task in hand and not let the Force have that sort of effect in him.

Then, from his right side, he felt the quick passing of a presence, no voice, no sound of running, just a passing presence – he stayed still, looking around him with his blue eyes, ready in anticipation of the presence returning.

And sure enough, it did. He felt it on his left side, then behind him and finally at his front, where it stayed beaming through the atmosphere as if beckoning him closer.

Igniting his lightsaber, Obi-Wan uses its light to guide him through the bushes and hung plants that fell in front of his face. The energy growing stronger with each step he carefully took forward until a faint red gleam starting to show through the thick mist.

The closer he got, the easier it was to make up a shape ahead of him, a human one. A cloak draped over your head and shoulders cast a shadow over your features that prevented him from making out the face of the person that he was about to oppose. They had dark leather knee-high boots with absolutely no scratches, a clear indicator that no one had managed to strike them there, what was normally the part most people forgot to protect – they were experienced.

“I must say, your reputation precedes you.” He shouts over so that his voice can cross the safety distance between the both of them. The Sith remains stoic, in a wide leg stance facing the Jedi General, no answer to be heard.

“You’ve killed plenty of Jedi Masters, on your own. I have to say, I’m impressed.” He tries to make conversation with the person in front of them in hopes of at least hearing their voice but they are giving him nothing, so he steps closer, slowly, gripping his lightsaber tighter.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yours-“ he doesn’t even finish the sentence as the Sith raises their arms and brings it down almost striking Obi-Wan weren’t it for his fast reflexes. The blades clash and sparks fly between them and the Sith forces their path forward continuously attempting to strike his upper body. He deviates every hit quickly as he keeps stepping back.

The clashes and sparks that fly let some light reach the Sith’s face but it’s still not enough to see their faces completely.

Then, Obi-Wan quickly charges forward at the Sith, but they beat him to the punch and block his swing towards their neck. The Sith shoved him off and backed away from him, keeping their defence up, waiting for Obi-Wan to make the next move. He swings at the Sith’s torso, but their attack is quickly deflected it and he is shoved back once more.

He goes in on the Sith once more, rotating the lightsaber behind his back before going in for their right side, an attack that always proved itself to be efficient as the swing was unexpected most of the time but he is beyond shocked as his torso is struck on his left side just as his blade swings over his head.

He lets out a grunt of pain, stumbling back, looking up at the Sith with wide eyes.

It can’t be. Only 3 people, besides himself, are familiar with this move.

It can’t be.

Looking down at the blood that gushes trails out of his wound he forces a two handgrip of the handle of his lightsaber before charging ahead at the Sith. They mimic their actions, weapons gripped on opposites side as they clash forward and stay there, trying to push the other away, and that’s when he sees it.

The light irradiating from the contact of the blades irradiates the Sith’s face from below the cloak’s hood and weren’t it for his rational mind and the possibility of dying then and there, Obi-Wan would’ve dropped the lightsaber to the floor.

“Y/N.” He whispers, looking you in the eyes through the blades. He is angry, any softness in his face and heart gone and instead replaced by the rage of knowing that you, of all people, a Jedi yourself would’ve done all this.

Pushes you back with more force than you were expecting and you fall back into the floor, hood leaving your head and revealing you in all of your glory.

Obi-Wan looks down at you, blade at your throat, illuminating your features. Your face was thinner, sharper than before, eyes darker and heavier on their sockets. Not that you’d lost weight but rather as if the life and brightness that you once sported had been drained out of you, leaving you a shell of what you once were.

“I knew they’d send you, eventually.” You hiss up at him, face challenging, breathing heavily “They were running out of Masters, it was only a matter of time before they sent the almighty General.”

“What the hell do you want?” he asks desperately down at you. His heart aching at the situation.

“What I want, General Kenobi… is to end the Jedis. Starting with you.” With a swift movement, you strike your lightsaber up and jump to your feet, delivering blow after blow to the Jedi’s blade.

“There is no reason for you to do this Y/N.” he speaks between clashes.

“NO REASON?” You shout over your own attack “You Jedis sent me to die away from your precious temple!”

“We didn’t send you to die, it was what was necessary.” your blade stops a blow of Obi-Wan’s coming from above.

“Necessary?” you push him away with brutal force. “How fucking dare you?”

That notion of his, that it was a necessary measure to send you away with not even a goodbye and rather a cold shoulder struck a nerve in you, raising your hand and flicking it at Obi-Wan, his lightsaber flying from his hand and before he even has time to react your raise your hand and the Force pins him to the tree right behind him.

He is struggling to breathe and holds his throat as a way to try and alleviate some kind of pressure. You weren’t this powerful the last time he saw you. Sure you were a magnificent Jedi Master, one of the best, but your use of the force had grown stronger and sharper – deadlier.

Your voice is coarse, bubbling with rage, and your hand unmovable as you step towards him.

“Have you ever been in an exile pod? Have you ever been throw to the ends of the galaxy with no means to ever get back? I reached out to the Sith Order where I landed. They gave me everything the Jedis couldn’t. They made me stronger, and they aren’t blinded by a code as ridiculous as the one of the Jedis.”

“They made you deadlier.” He mutters

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? The Jedi Order spent their time limiting our abilities. No emotion, no passion, no chaos, no death? That’s bullshit.”

“Y/N…” Your rage rises as you speak and your grip on his throat grows tighter, the Force shrinking his airways.

“How many creatures have you killed General Kenobi?” you snap at him, your hair rustling with the movement “In all of your years as a Jedi, how many creatures have you killed? Because my guess is pretty fucking high.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer, rather averting your daring gaze.

“Jedis are just Siths with a God complex, and it was only a matter of time before I realized it.”

With a sudden movement of his legs, Obi-Wan kicks you in your stomach, sending you tumbling back and the grip on his throat dissolves away. In a split second, you both reach for your lightsabers and stand in a fighting stance in front of each other, just a few feet away.

“Don’t make me kill you.” He grunts, looking you in the eye.

“You’ll die trying.”

You charge at him, swinging with all your might hoping to hit him in all the places that hurt the most, despite a silver of love for him still remaining in your subconscious, holding you back from delivering the ultimate blow just yet.

One of your swings was unsuccessful and Obi-Wan ends up delivering a deep cut in your shoulder, lightsaber falling down on the mud. On the following second, he moved and cut you in your calf, right through the leather, making you collapse to the ground in pain.

It’s his turn to raise his hand in the direction of your body, holding you still to the ground, the bright blue blade of his weapon disappearing, remaining only the handle.

With his steady hand, he gets close to you, kneeling one knee close to your body.

“I did love you, you know.” he huffed out, his injury and the tiredness that the fight had caused weighing down on him.

Below his hand, you were still trying to fight his hold, unsuccessful as the strength that you are trying to conjure rather turns into pain once it contracts your injured muscles and you wince in pain.

“I was supposed to tell you that morning but then we got called in and you know what happened. It wasn’t right to say it back.”

“Always following the fucking Code.” You throw your head back the pain starting to be too much. You couldn’t be bothered with this soft talk right now. Maybe once you did, maybe once you yearned for it. But that you died a year ago.

“You were such an amazing girl.” His free knuckle brushed a stray hair out of your forehead, tainted with sweat. “Y/N, come back. Remember who you were.”

“A Jedi puppet, that’s who I was. I’m free now and I will take down every single one of you, you can’t stop me.” Your growl at him, face hard and challenging despite the pain that you hid behind your eyes.

“Don’t make me kill you.” He bites down his lip and you swear you saw a tear glisten at the corner of his eyes “Please.”

“It’s only a matter of time before the Republic falls, General Kenobi.”

“You leave me no choice.” Trying to keep the hold of his strong facade, Obi-Wans shaky breathing betrayed him as it exited his body when he reached for the handle of his lightsaber and pressed it against your stomach, but he hesitates.

“Do it, you coward.” You mutter, a sentence that could be confused for a plea by the way it was said.

“I will…” he takes a dry gulp, fearing his next action and the ultimate consequence he knows it’ll bring. “do what I must.”

And then, in that moment, the blade in his lightsaber ignites, trespassing you from how close it was to your stomach, practically pressed against you, delivering you a quick and painless death, the one act of love Obi-Wan could possibly carry out at that moment.

Your soul left your body not with a scream but with a slow breath, your frame relaxing beneath him, your eyes falling lifeless. Finally falling to both of his knees, all the pent of emotions of this encounter and the pain that he had lived with since the day you were sent to exile come rushing up and he succumbs to the tears that he was trying to hold back.

Silently sobbing, he gently pulls your head on top of his knees, gently stroking your wet cheeks and the face that he once adored so much, now forever cold under his touch. Leaning down, a few stray strands of hair falling from his head, Obi-Wan closes his eyes as he lays a long and warm kiss on your forehead, before his own connecting with yours.

And there he laid for a few hours, holding the only person who ever managed to come the closest to his heart now dead in his arms having destroyed herself and the people he owed his life too.

A broken Pietá, that could make any romantic weep, had they known their story.

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#Come Back #obi-wan #obi-wan x reader #obi wan x reader #sith!reader #star wars #winchesterxxi

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honesthammie · 3 years ago

Text

Te amo

I am working on a few of the other prompts and a part 2 to prompt 4 the soulmate au I just recently got another puppy and I still have uni work to do so I'm a bit behind schedule with these and I'm so sorry. Hopefully this little kinda songfic makes up for it.

13th doctor x female reader

Warnings: swearing as usual, fluffy, sad thoughts, twist the original songs meaning, long as fuck.

Probably terrible as its my first songfic

I don't know much Spanish so some of the examples later on are Google translated and I know it can be wrong so I do apologise for any mistranslations

This is based off Rhiannas song Te Amo but I'm switching it up a little. I dont why 13th doctor came into my head when I was listening to it but it gave me this lil oneshot idea so enjoy! The picture is not mine but the rainbow effect added is done by me! Same for the picture later on.

I've been travelling with this amazing alien for a whole year now. The adventures are always amazing if she's there! The others sometimes complain and say its boring, especially on a junk planet but to see her face light up with excitement makes my day and it well worth the dirt we cover ourselves on by the time we are done. And when she finds something that she thought was useful and it turns out, it's not her scrunch is amazing.

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm in love with this alien. I know, weird, a human and an alien together? But I can't help it! I'm completely besotted with her. If she even looks in my direction, my legs go to jelly and I get butterflies. I know, cheesy. But thats exactly how I feel around her. I barely want to touch her because I nearly fainted the last few times. And I fear she may pick up on how I'm distancing myself from her. I don't want to break her heart and leave, the thought of her look kills me as is so I'm trying to get her to kick me off.

It doesn't seem to be working though. I've been distancing myself since I found out about how I feel, which is now 6 months ago and she's trying to get me to be as close as I was with her.

I'll tell her. On one of our amazing adventures but I can't do it straight forward, it's making me sick with anxiety just thinking about it. I'll fancy it up, make her work it out. Whenever we are next to each other and the moment is right, I'll tell her in another language!

I finally get out of bed after I finished writing in my diary. I slip some comfy clothes on and head out to the TARDIS library and hope no one is there, especially her. I'll be distracted and right now, I need to concentrate. I wonder the warm halls, grateful that the TARDIS had considered my preferences. I think the TARDIS likes me more than the others because I talk to her and show her gratefulness for taking us somewhere amazing and I chat to her regularly and I try to involve her in my conversations. The others find it weird, except for the Doctor, she just smiles and joins in with me. Im still learning how to translate her but I think I've sort of got it.

I reach my hand forward and grab the aged bronze doorknob and open to the giant room. There were so many floors that an elevator had to be used to access some of them as the Doctor said "walking would literally take weeks to reach some floors". Thankfully the TARDIS organises them to make them easier to find. I looked forward and saw an interactive map in front of me. My hands touched the screen and many subjects and categories came up. Anything ranging from kiddie tales to straight up smut, I have a feeling either River or Missy are to blame for that addition.

I've never met them but the TARDIS showed me videos from her database and brought books to my attention about them. They both seem very dirty minded people so I'm not surprised those are there. I wonder if the Doctor has ever stumbled upon this section or is it for none Doctor eyes only? If she does know about them, has she ever read one? No, don't go there you stupid brain! She probably doesn't know!

I quickly stop that train of thought and catch my breath. I've never thought about those kinds of things about anyone before. Stupid Timelord, making me go all weird and think dirty things. Now my face is all red, I really hope I'm alone in here. I quickly focus back to the task at hand, finding a new language to learn. The TARDIS seemed to know where to go and blue arrows appeared, guiding me to the right section in what could be a maze.

As I walking, I felt excitement rise within me. What if she felt the same way? What if she was impressed by how far I wanted to go just to say those 3 words? Would her hazel honey eyes sparkle with delight? Would she scronch her nose in amazement?

Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the language learning section and there were many alien languages but the TARDIS seemed to have a better idea of what would be perfect for me as a white hardback book fell off the 4th shelf onto the wooden floor. I picked it up and noticed how smooth the cover was and how old yet unused it looked. The white was a little off, almost a dull cream from ageing which made the gold writing harder to read. The title was simple:

Spanish basics and need to knows.

I did always find Spanish in school fun to learn, more than French or German anyway and I don't wanna stereotype this into a typical French is the language of romance. I never really found it romantic sounding compared to Spanish.

I picked up the book and quickly flicked through to the right page and took a note on my phone as to what the translation was and put the worn book away. I quietly thanked the TARDIS and rushed out of the library and back into my room where I could practice without getting caught.

A few weeks have passed since I picked up the new words and practiced them until I was confident and had the TARDIS' approval that I was saying it right. Today the Doctor wanted to take us to this party in the 18th century and we all decided to dress for the part once we landed.

Yaz was wearing a beautiful black and red ballroom gown, accented with little bows around the bottom and lace cuffs. She had her black hair curled into a ponytail. It was simple and cute, much like her style normally. Graham and Ryan wore similar suits but Graham wore green accents and Ryan wore yellow accents.

I let the TARDIS pick my dress. She picked a black and dark blue ballroom gown with blue roses on the bottom. It had black lace underneath and blue lace as the cuffs. The gown also seemed to glitter slightly in the light making me sparkle very subtly. I put my comfy boots on as you couldn't see my shoes as I walked anyway so why did it matter? With all the running we do, I'm not risking my ankles with heels, thank you very much. I had my (h/c) hair in (fave style). It suited my dress perfectly.

I nearly choked on oxygen when I saw how hot the Doctor looked in her suit. It took me a few moments to realise we match. We both blushed at the realisation. Of course the TARDIS makes us match! No wonder why she was more than eager to help me pick an outfit! Stupid sentient ship, shipping us already!

I quickly cleared my throat and complimented everyone on how amazing they looked but I just couldn't take my eyes off the Doctor for long. She was like a magnet for my eyes. Someone help before she realises!

"Don't we all look brilliant? Perfect for the party! 18th century Yorkshire to be exact! What a great century for you guys. Now then, this party is for Nobles and higher, as per usual in these times. Ryan, I suggest you keep in mind about any racist comments that may come out. But as long as you say your Graham's personal butler, you should be welcomed with little resistance. And Yaz, I want you to be (y/n)'s personal maid. That does mean you'll have to follow your so called "masters" around and do anything they ask unfortunately and Graham, (y/n), please act like the others around you and use them. Unfortunately this is the only way all 5 of us can join the party. You'll be fine as long as you bite your tongues. Now the Noble Edward Collins is the host so be sure to thank him for inviting you, even though you technically weren't. And try not to get too drunk, I know what you humans are like! Now follow me." The Doctor explained. I was going to tell the Doctor today, but I guess, I'll have to wait.

The Doctor opened the doors and we were in a cupboard under some gorgeous marble stairs. As we walked towards the party I noticed some family portraits along the walls. They were a very beautiful looking family. The mother had long blonde hair and pale blue eyes. The father was buff, long brown hair and daring brown eyes. There were two children, a girl and a boy. The girl had long brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, whilst the son had blonde hair and brown eyes. They also had a brown greyhound dog laying by the sons feet. The son must be the host, Edward. He looked not much older than 10 in the last painting but the daughter was no where to be found in the portrait and theu all looked mournful. Is she dead and is that the picture capturing the moment of grief? Why would anyone want that? It's so strange, even for this time period.

The Doctor held me and Yaz close, stopping us in our tracks. My heart was racing at the simple touch. But as soon as the touch was there, it was gone. "I hope its okay with you (y/n) but you're going to have to be married to someone."

My heart stopped for a moment and I nearly choked on air. "What? Why?"

"Because women like yourself would have been married as young as 13 or 14. Now your only choices are me and Graham. You can't choose Ryan as he's supposed to be a butler and you can't choose Yaz as she's your maid. The choice is yours, I just need to know wether or not I should refer to you as my darling wife or not?"

What. The. Fuck.

Why did her even calling me that l, turn me on? Obviously, I'm going to choose her but I'm going to have to perfect my reasoning here.

"As much as I love Graham, it's going to be awkward if I have to kiss him or anything because he's like my grandad! I guess you'll do Timelord. Come on then husband, we don't want to be late to the dancefloor!" I spoke clearly hoping she didn't notice how excited I actually was to have even a hint of a relationship with her. It may be fake but ill take anything when it comes to her.

We arrived at the welcome committee and handed our cards over, aka the psychic paper. We were going as Mr and Mrs (last name). The Doctor was holding my hand this entire time and it's driving me insane. I don't know if she can feel my racing pulse under her fingers but if she can I hope she puts it down to excitement! We walked down the most grandest staircase you would ever lay your eyes on.

First we walked around, greeting everyone as they came up to us or if she dragged me to someone she knew, but not personally. She was cute when she was fangirling over these people. Yaz found it annoying as she just wanted to party but I couldn't help it. The way her eyes shimmer with recognition was more beautiful than any galaxy she could ever take us. Sometimes her eyes flickered with admiration and it did make me have jealousy for just a moment before I remembered, I'm staying with her and they aren't .

As the party moved on we met the host Edward. He looked a lot different than in his paintings. He was around 20 years old now and his blonde hair was below his shoulders. He looked a lot like his father with his muscley build. And he was very charismatic which I did not like as he poured all his charm into the Doctor. Does everyone here know that he's gay or does he see through the Doctors disguise? Either way, it was rubbing me the wrong way. I quickly excused myself with Yaz and walked into the bathroom.

"I did not like him. I do not like this Edward guy. Something about him rubs me completely wrong. He's handsome but something is telling me he knows the Doctor isn't a man."

"I felt the same way. He knows something we don't. Before we go out there again, do you mind if I ask you a question?" Yaz asked. My mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. She knows. The jig is up with Yaz. "How do you feel about her, honestly? One minute you 2 are inseparable, then you distance yourself and now you are a nervous wreck around her! I won't judge but I just want to make sure my theory is correct."

Shit. I guess I really was obvious. Does she know?

"If your theory is about me falling hopelessly in love with the Doctor then you'd be correct. I can't help it. I'm going to tell her how I feel without being completely stupid. I just need a right moment to say it." I spoke with a heavy sigh. Hopefully, Yaz can help create that moment thay I need. She nods her head and opens the door. We walk back to the Doctor and notice Edward has gone to other guests and she was talking to Graham. I looked around and saw Ryan flirting with a pretty lady near the food table. Why am I not surprised?

A few hours had passed and the Doctor seemed bored with standing and talking so I made a plan in my head. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dancefloor as the next song came on. I didn't quite know how to dance properly but I knew the basics if it. She has to lead and I simply follow suit. It took a few moments but I got the hang of it with the Doctors help. Soon we were dancing so gracefully underneath the most beautiful candelabra that lit up her face perfectly.

Her hair swayed to our perfect dance ever so gently. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and her lips were in a permanent smile. She even laughed a couple of times. Then as the music slowed down to a pace that was perfect, I grabbed her waist and looked her. My heart was going crazy and my legs were about to buckle but I had rehearsed my lines. I can do this.

"Hey Doc. Its been an amazing time with you but I can't continue this without being honest with you. But everytime I get close, I back down in fear. So I'm going to let you figure it out. Doctora te amo. Entiendo que si no sientes lo mismo y me iré si quieres. (Doctor i love you. i understand if you don't feel the same way and i'll leave if you want.)" I spoke with as much passion and intention as I could. I looked into her eyes and saw her confused and trying to work out what I said. I would find it cute if my heart was beating right out of my chest. "Well, I've had a great time but I'm fucking knackered. I'm calling it night. I'll be heading to the TARDIS if you need me."

"I'll come with ya. I'm knackered as well and we both need each other to undo the corsets and mine is starting to hurt a little bit. How we used to do this for a full day, everyday, is beyond my understanding. As beautiful as we look, I don't think its worth the pain this will bring in the morning." Yaz spoke with a slight mumble as proof of her mental state and finishing with a yawn. I chuckled at her state and walked back to the TARDIS with a small amount of chat along the way.

She is right though. These corsets really do hurt you after a while, I'm glad I chose not to wear heels or else I'll be fucked for in the morning. I would literally scream. I think the Doctor had the right idea in wearing a suit, no pain. I do feel bad for leaving her but I just need some space after basically admitting everything that's been built up within me for too damn long. Maybe I should tell Yaz how it went and maybe she can help determine if the Doctor is happy or not.

We walked back into the wardrobe room and I helped Yaz out of her corset. She immediately sighed in relief. She finished getting herself into comfy clothes and started to untie my ribbon.

"So did you tell her?"

"Sort of. I basically told her everything but in Spanish. I just hope it doesn't change anything, except in a positive way, of course! If she wants me gone, I've told her that it's fine and I understand. She's very socially awkward and as cute as I find it, it may not help me in this situation. Do you have any clues on how she may react once she figures it out?"

Yaz stopped untying my corset for a moment and placed 1 finger upon her chin in thought. Her eyes were almost shut and seemed almost completely black in the light. After what seemed like forever, she took her finger off her chin and beamed a toothy smile. Her eyes sparkled as she remembered something and seemed to gleam slightly menacingly. A smirk replaced her smile soon after.

"There's a few times she's shown affection towards you. And I mean romantic affection. She always chooses to hold your hand over anyone else's if given the choice. She always steps I'm front of you when an enemy threatens to kill us all or hurt us in anyway. When you go wandering around on your own, she's terrified thats she's lost you forever to an enemy we don't even know of!" Yaz starts explaining carefully as if she's worried on how to word it.

"Those are just friendly affec-"

"I wasn't done. I was warming up." Yaz interrupts me as I was about to go into a self deprecating speech on how I'm just a friend to everyone and never a lover. "She always looks to see your face on adventures because she secretly loves your reactions, bad or good. When the Master revealed himself, she looked straight at you for support on how she should react. When she came back from the Kasavin, she ran straight to you and made sure you were ok first before any of us. When we were in the Tsungra medical ship, the first person she asked for was you! Whilst she was unconscious on board the ship, she kept mumbling your name, over and over again. When she saw how gorgeous you looked today, I thought she'd take you right there on the spot! She fucking loves you (y/n)! You're just so unbelievably blind to it all!"

Yaz was almost red with rage. Did she really do all that, for me? The TARDIS mustve read my mind and seemed to hum positively in reply. If everything Yaz said is true then she'll be so happy about it and maybe we can be a thing! But then again, maybe losing so many in a similar position as me will turn her away. Maybe her soul is awry and she's asking why right now.

Once I had gotten changed I went to sleep almost straight away, I suppose all that dancing and social ques having tired me out more than I thought.

I woke up to a soft knock on my door. I rubbed my (e/c) eyes and told them I'd be a few minutes as I've only just woken up. It wasn't until I finished brushing my (h/c) hair that I remembered what happened yesterday. All the panic rushed within me at once and I nearly threw up. I took several deep breaths and opened the door.

"GRAHAM THANK FUCK ITS YOU!" I almost shouted at him. He looked a little bewildered for a moment before he seemed to remember what brought him here in the first place.

"Hello Love, I'm here because Doc wanted to speak with you privately in the library. She says that the TARDIS will guide you to her location. She seemed a little off after you and Yaz left. Did something happen? Is everything ok?" Graham asked cautiously. He must be so confused.

"Sort of. I'll explain more when I get back but what do you mean by "a little off"?"

"Well she seemed lost in all sense of the word. She kept muttering "Te Amo" all the time. She was all over the place aswell. She got me and Ryan back here not long after you guys. Something about not trusting Ryan to not get alcohol poisoning without her around. She hasn't really left the library since if I'm honest. She's been in there for 12 hours. I only know she wants you because she whattsapped me on my phone. Whatever is going on, please sort it out, she's starting to really worry me. She hasn't been the same since that Master guy came around." Graham spoke clearly, albeit confused. I nodded my head and walked in the opposite direction to him and hoped the TARDIS would take me there quicker than normal. I want to treat this like a plaster, rip it off in one go.

Sooner than I realised, I grabbed the all too familiar door knob of the library. I took a deep breath and walked in. A blue line appeared towards the interactive map. I awakened the console and I saw a black screen with a few words on it. It looked like a message with how it was presented.

Hello (y/n)! Don't walk until you calm. Breath deeply and try not to panic. I promise you, all will work out in the end. I see more than you realise and I know my thief better than anyone whoever stepped foot into my being. I know of her main problem about the situation. If she loves you, drink this. It won't hurt, she'll know what it is.

The TARDIS

I should have been surprised by this new knowledge that she could speak to me, in a way, but I've seen so much and I am so tender hooks so I didn't take much notice of it. I quickly sat down and tried to control my breathing. After about 5 or so minutes, I felt calm enough to finally meet up with her and hear what she has to say.

I followed the blue line carefully until I spotted her in a comfy room. She mustve gotten changed at some point as she was wearing her usual rainbow outfit, minus the jacket. She was sat on a deep purple sofa, legs curled into her body. Her shoes were on the carpeted floor underneath her, seemingly forgotten for the moment. There were many books surrounding us from many cultures and spieces. One wall had a cozy wood burning fireplace crackling within the silence that surrounded us.

Her face was scrunched within deep thought. Her eyes sparkling with an emotion that I couldn't quite put my finger on; hope, sorrow or excitement? Her lips had a small smirk gracing them and her teeth had bitten a small part of it. Her hands were holding a book in a way where I couldn't quite see what it was.

I didn't want to disturb her as she looked so ethereal with the warm glow of the fire highlighting her in the perfect way. Unfortunately, it's plaster time and I wanted this sorted sooner rather than later. I took a deep breath took in the picture for memory.

"Hey, Graham said you wanted to talk to me? Is everything ok?" I asked gently and as softly as I could so she was carefully brought out of her little world. I didn't want to scare her. She raised her eyes from her book for a moment and bookmarked the page she was at with a little TARDIS paperclip. She placed the book on the table at the side of her and patted the seat next to her.

As I sat down my nerves were through the roof. She gave nothing away as she stared at me for a minute, as if assessing something about me.

"Why are you so nervous? Calm down. You are right, It is to do with last night. You left pretty abruptly after basically confessing your feelings to me. I was so confused, not just about what you said but about myself and what I wanted to do about you." The Doctor spoke monotonously. Did she mean get rid of me? "I had to first of all, find out what you said, well done on learning a new language by the way, one even I'm not fluent at. I'm guessing the old girl had something to do with that idea. Not that, you aren't smart enough but you don't know what languages I do or don't know."

The Tardis seemed to chuckled at the accusation and I simply nodded my head. "I wanted to buy myself time and to impress you."

"You impressed me a long time ago Miss (l/n). That is just a cherry on top. After I figured out what you said, no thanks to my old friend here, I went through a lot of thinking. I've not been in many relationships and you know my history regarding the ones I have been in. You know, River and Missy? And I have such a bad past with it ending in nothing but tears for me. I always lose those I care for deeply." She spoke with tears spilling from her gorgeous eyes. I grabbed her face gently and wiped away the stray tears that managed to escape their home.

"That was when you were a man. You're a woman now, everything is so different. Relationships can be heartbreaking. I know what you're main problem is and the TARDIS has a solution to that. I just need you to tell me the truth. How do you feel about me? Do you want me to stay or not?" I stated holding the small shot glassed amount of liquid in my hand. The liquid was golden and sparkled slightly in the light. There were specks of orange and silver within it and it was as hot as a nice cup of (hot drink). Her eyes sparkled with hope and shock. Her lips were smiling wide. And she seemed to giggle at the sight of it. She held it for a moment as if examining it like a rare artefact, maybe it was. Either way, I trust her judgement and if she's happy about it, then so am I. Once she had analysed the drink, she practically leapt into my arms and pushed me down on my back. She smelled of custard creams and the TARDIS which was odd but completely her and I couldn't imagine her smelling any other way.

"That does solve our problem! What she has just given you is the rarest liquid in the universe seeing as only one thing in the entirety of space can produce it. That drink is known as the nectar of the chosen ones. It's rare as the race that used to make them has practically gone extinct. There's only 3 left in the known universe and you're living in one. That drink is the blood of the TARDIS. It grants you immortality if you drink it. It is said to resemble your favourite beverage no matter who you are. However, it only lasts 100 years and you must drink it every century or else your body clock will kick in and you will age and be as mortal as you are now." She speaks with a warning as we sit up holding holds.

"I have no problem with that. I would sacrifice everything if it meant I got to call you mine. Just please tell me and I'll drink it." I told her with adoration in my eyes.

She held me close and planted a soft and gentle kiss to my lips. It was short but it sent more fireworks than you can imagine through my body. I knew I had found her. She grabbed my waist and whispered next to my ear:

"Te Amo"

#13th doctor #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #female reader

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i-see-you-now-you-see-me · 4 years ago

Photo

Loving us Both or, Another level of Crazy

(oneshot, but depends of the future) Part of the DYVLONY series, can be read seperately

Pairing : villain Hendery (Wayv) x Reader

Word count: approx 4k

About: I tell you now, important part of this story is- Hendery has two personalities, but it comes up in the story, not to confuse you, here they are:

Hendery (Huang Guanhang)- boss

Guanhee- Huang Guanhee- who deals with all filthy stuff, boss/ to everyone they are brother and sister

Warnings: Mentions of blood and gore, a bit of descriptive character death, sex, filthy smut, Guanhee is a dirty bitch, sex, sex, and some more...

filth under the cut

*Earth, the third Planet from the Sun, 149.6 million kilometers away*

-I keep telling you that someone took her, I am sure of it! – Nurse Nana, your friend whom you hade become great friends, answered.

-Miss, there is no proof of that, you cannot just announce things like this on the internet, it is classed as a felony, - the police officer was not having it, it was the third family member this week, who were saying the exact same thing, “we were on a night out, and she never came back” sort of thing. And the best was, all of the missing persons went to the same club.

Yet police didn’t want to spend their money on this. There were far more important things for them to be dealing with at this hour.

-Alright miss, we will make a file and let you know as soon as something will come up, - he announced.

-Thank you, - nurse Nana thanked the police and left.

While studying at UNI you had a big exam coming up, to help you in the process you had applied to help at the local hospital, trainee psychologist assistant, and a Doctor Vera McGregorky welcomed you into all her conversations with her patients, who didn’t mind you, a student to be there and listen. You had signed the documents for confidential information, and not a single word had escaped your mouth in talks of other patients.

You had met Nana when you arrived, she was the one to greet you and lead you to the doctors’ office, she was nice, and you became friends.

Once your exam had passed, she had invited you for a glass of beer on a night out, (you rarely drank beer, but sometimes you enjoyed it), so you agreed. Somehow during the night, you were left alone, because Nana smoked, and she used to say, “I don’t want your lungs to get polluted because of me, you know that statistics have proven, that a non - smoker standing next to a smoker is at higher risk of lung pollution than the actual smoker,” and she would add with a grin, “that’s the trufff”.

And now, she was there. Walking down the street where the club was.

-Where are you, Y/N, what happened to you, - when she returned from smoking, you were nowhere to be found, she searched everywhere in the club where she could. Not a single glimpse from you was there.

Ever since that day, she has been trying to file a missing persons case, even posted on the internet about it, receiving a few reposts and likes, until she was called to police office. If they would have been a bit more interested in that, eh?

Nana sighed.

-Assholes, - she whispered as she walked of.

* Planet DYVLONY, 10043567901;1102033149001*

-I hate that bitch, - one of the henchmen spoke.

-I know, last time when she slapped you, I remember the look on your face, - he sighed, - why can’t it be her brother this time.

-I know, right? Sometimes she really gets on my nerves.

They both walked through a warehouse that belonged to the Infamous Twins of DYVLONY, and today was one of those days where, instead of himself – Hendery, their boss, more liked preferred boss, they had to work together with his twin sister Huang Guanhee, who, if/when in a bad mood, tended to treat people like shit.

-Didn’t I tell you, that I don’t want to see your ugly ass looking faces today? Huh? Was I not clear? – Huang Guanhee sat on a chair, while behind her, tied to a post was a naked woman, barely breathing, beaten to a pulp.

-Sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but Mr. Tieger wants to see you, or your brother, he is outside, - Guanhee sighed, she hated that bastard, he owed them a lot of money, and he was trying to barter all sorts of shit on a regular basis.

-Ah, - she groaned, - bring him in, - Guanhee agreed.

Both henchmen walked out, grabbed Mr. Tieger by his collar, and really brought him in on his knees, where he stayed. Looking up, seeing Guanhee sitting on the chair, he bit his cheek. She was not the person he wanted to see there.

-Why are you here? I am busy, - she said and crossed her legs.

-I, - his mouth felt dry there for a moment, there was something not right about this woman, - I have been selected to take care of… the aliens that had crashed.

Guanhee arched a brow.

-So? – she asked.

-I have no need of an alien in my home, and I thought… - she didn’t let him finish a sentence.

-You thought? – she abruptly stood up, - exactly what, huh? You come here an offer some alien? What’s in it for me, eh?

She walked closer and smacked Mr. Tieger in the face, so hard, he fell backwards. She groaned and straightened herself up. Guenhee looked at her poor, tied girl in the back, licking her lips, taking a stick from the floor, she walked over to the girl and beat her sides and legs, the girl only jerked around with no sound, tears flowing down her face, she had no voice anymore.

-This is what happens when you don’t pay back the money, and as much as I love a pink pussy to feast on, you don’t have one, so get the fuck out of these premises, and in ten days bring us back money, or else, I will leave you dick- less bleeding in the street, do you understand?

Never have you ever seen a man run as fast as Mr. Tieger did in that moment.

-This bitch is crazy, - he said to himself, as he got in his car and drove off.

Later in the room, on the top floor of the warehouse, Guanhee was undressing. Her stockings were rolled off, her skirt neatly folded on the bed, her white blouse folded on top of that, her hair, a brown (ish) wig, left on the side, before being put away on a mannequin. Fake eyelashes taken off, together with her make up, fake boobs off, and his penis freed from the tight panties.

-It’s your turn now, - she said and looked in the mirror. As soon as those words left her mouth, Hendery appeared, straightened himself up, hearing a knock on the door.

-Boss, it’s me, can I come in? – Hendery walked over and opened the door. His right- hand man was there. Dante was the only person on DYVLONY who knew the ugly truth.

Hendery and Guanhee were the same person.

You sat in the waiting room, a bit nervous, of course. Passing an exam had felt easier than this. Palms sweaty, one of your legs kept shaking.

-Nothing to worry about, - you assured yourself, - it’s going to be just fine.

Mr. Tieger was signing papers, ready to greet you, and then sell you off. He knew today he would see Hendery, not his sister, he was sure of it, he will definitely be ready to bargain. Once Hendery see’s how you look like, Mr. Tieger might be in for a good money.

-Hello, miss Y/N, I am Mr. William Tieger, - he shook your hand, - shall we go now?

You nodded. He looked like a “decent” man. Mr. Tieger made sure you walked first, he checked out how you looked like from behind, all the curves in the right places, he will def be swimming in gold after tonight.

-Let’s make a d-tour, - he said, helping you in his car, and soon he had stopped in front of what looked like a very posh atelier. Walking in, he was greeted with two DYVLONY ladies.

-Hello ser, how can be of assistance today, - they said in unison.

-I need to dress her, - he leaned in, while you weren’t listening, - the sexier the better.

Both girls nodded. This was the most popular atelier for a lot of reasons, and the girls were ready for their task. Taking your measures, they went to work on your clothing straight away. Soon, you were wearing embroidered bralette, with matching pantie set, and attached stockings, down your legs. And for whatever reason, your last piece of clothing, a really flimsy looking dress was put on, you looked cheap.

-What is this? – you asked, - I am not wearing it! – you protested.

-You, - Mr. Tieger spoke, - my darling, won’t have a choice.

With that your world went black. One of the assistants had knocked you out, wearing a big smile on her face, even while tying you up. Mr. Tieger paid in cash, threw you over his shoulder, and left. Putting you in the booth of his car, for no one to see. He smiled to himself adding the last piece – a mouth cloth.

-Let’s make Hendery happy, - smacking your thigh with his hand, he closed the booth and drove off.

The warehouse looked as dead as ever. Henchmen stood in the front, guarding the twins, as Mr. Tieger pulled up. Stepping out, he gave the man a sheepish grin.

-I am here to speak with Hendery, I have something to offer, - this time, henchmen didn’t say anything, just opened the door to let him in. Mr. Tieger took you out from the back, and again, put you over his shoulder, bringing you in. Slowly walking closer, he noticed that the chair was turned around.

-Huang Guanheng, - he greeted, - good to see you here.

There was no response on the other side.

-I am here to bargain a little something, you might find of value, - he smiled, putting you down on the cold floor. He didn’t notice how “Hendery” crossed his legs, and his arms over his chest. – this is the alien; I think she might be to your liking.

The doors of the warehouse were now locked, no one could get in, and no one could get out. Somehow, you found yourself waking up, no sounds leaving your mouth, but a short breath. Startled by a strong grip on your jaw, your eyes stayed shut.

-What do you think? – Mr. Tieger’s smug face was back at it. The chair turned around and he gasped. – what the fuck?! – he shouted.

Looking back at him was Guanhee, wearing her best smile, she even winked towards him.

-I thought I warned you once, - she said, still sitting down.

-Where is Hendery, Guanhee? – Mr. Tieger asked.

-I don’t have to answer you, but if you must know, I take that as your dying wish. You really are something, - Guanhee said, - but no worries, soon I will gut you like a fish, and make sure everyone is watching.

-What??? – Mr. Tieger was angry, he came towards her in big striking steps. Once close enough, he was ready to grab Guanhee by her hair, and before he could react a knife was plunged in his lower abdomen.

-I did promise you, didn’t I? – she giggled as a crazy person, the knife was now used to cut Mr. Tieger open, knife stopping at his ribs, while blood gushed out of him. His knees hit the floor, and you opened your eyes. Startled to see what was going on, you had to get away. Easier said than done, with your arms tied behind your back, and your legs tied as well, the only movement you could do, is somewhat like a worm, inch by inch moving away, trying not to pay attention to someone dying in the background.

Guanhee watched as Mr. Tieger bled on the floor, her own clothing was dirtied by now, but she didn’t bother. Looking over she saw you trying to crawl away, and she smiled.

-Hey, - she shouted, and you stopped not knowing why you stopped. – I will give you ten second head start, say thank you Guanhee, - she clapped her hands.

Your eyes were bulging out of your scull now, ten seconds? No chance you’ll get anywhere, a sudden thought was in the back of your mind. “I will die now”, tears started streaming down your face as you kept on trying to move away.

-Ten, - Guanhee announced as she stepped closer, starting the count down. – Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

You heard her right by you when she said “one”, her hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your upper body upwards, making you even more uncomfortable. The bloody knife in front of your face, you started pleading for your life, even with your mouth filled with cloth, that was tied behind your head. You must have sounded terrible… because Guanhee let go of your hair. You landed on your face, hitting your forehead in the process.

-Give her a shower, - Guanhee mentioned with her hands, - then tie her up like normal.

-Yes ma’am, - henchman nodded.

Dragging you away for the “shower”, which in reality meant, ice cold water on your body, getting you rid of the clothes you wore. Cold and worn out from the cold shower blast, you didn’t struggle when your naked body was tied up by the wooden post. The only thing you could see was a chair, which was unoccupied for now.

Guanhee washed up, changed her clothes, looking in the mirror, she smiled to herself, putting on her glasses, she walked through the room and down the stairs.

She saw your naked form from the second floor and rubbed her palms together. Sitting on the chair, she watched you closely. You didn’t struggle, your mouth had tape over it, the only thing you did, you were weeping, trying to do it quietly.

Listen. You had seen crazy, while working at the hospital, there had been patients that had to be in the mental asylum, you had read too much about serial killers, how they disliked people crying, or, how it edged them on. So, you tried to calm yourself.

Guanhee stood up and walked closer.

-You do have a pretty face, though, - she started, taking your jaw in her hand, - I must say, Mr. Tieger was right, you could be of use, - she gave you a smile. Her hand let go of your face and then she grabbed your nipple. Pinching it, twisting it with her fingers. You didn’t know what to do, how to react, your body betrayed you well, heat pooling in your lower areas, the same as the hotness travelling to your face.

Then her lips enveloped the other nipple, she went full licking and sucking on your breast, and soon her hand was not only pinching the nipple but massaging the whole breast.

“Fuck no,” you thought to yourself, trying to get your body to cooperate with your mind, but it wouldn’t budge.

Then she swapped it over, her lips on the other of your breast peaks and the other twisting your other nipple. Her hot mouth was providing you with saliva, that you felt sliding down your torso, to your stomach.

-Guess my favorite color, - she spoke looking at you. You didn’t know what to say, and you couldn’t anyways, but still. Without a warning her hand was in between your legs, grabbing on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

What was she doing?

-I will tell you, - she said as she got on her knees, you saw henchman approaching. Your legs got untied, and the henchmen were holding you up. Shame of nakedness like this was seen on your face. You were now legs apart, pussy on display, a single drop of your nectar gathered on your pussy lips. You looked everywhere else, but not down. Guanhee smacked your thigh to get your attention, it went to a shade of red after the second smack. – I love pink, - she announced while biting her lip.

Your heart was in your throat now, beating so fast, you weren’t ready for what Guanhee had in mind. Her tongue prodded pass her lips, and the tip of it touched your mound. She then gave you a test lick between your folds, swallowing your juices, slowly moving her tongue up and down until she reached your tight hole. She smiled. You saw her smile before she took of her glasses and her tongue went back to its job.

Her tongue dived in your tight hole, in and out, a little faster then and a little slower after, tears were threatening to fall down your face again. Not only a woman was going down on you, but it was also giving you a spark of pleasure. She sat back on her knees, bringing a hand to her face, licking a finger, before the same finger entered you, you shut your eyes.

She was exploring your vaginal walls, finding a soft spot, that made your legs quiver a bit, she continued to press on it more, and then her mouth attacked your clitoris. She sucked and licked, and she finger – fucked you, till you orgasmed, screaming through the tape, your legs shaking from pleasure. Intense waves of hot electric feeling went through all of you, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Guanhee stepped back, her face was covered in your cum, she licked her lips, wiping some of your cum on her hand so she could lick it off. She stood up.

-What a good girl, - she said, - coming on my face like that, hmm, I might just keep you.

With that she walked away. Soon your legs were down on the floor again, tied back up. Then the tape was pulled off, and you were given water by one of the henchmen. Chugging it down like it was your last meal, not knowing what’s going to happen after.

And for some reason, you drifted to sleep soon after that.

When you woke up, the sun was peeking through the windows. Once your eyes adjusted, your face turned straight to the chair. There was a figure sitting there. Looking at you was a man. Who looked just like the lady… Guanhee was her name, right? Uhm, what?

-Good morning, - he greeted, you nodded. If you were alive, it really was a good morning. – I am Hendery, you must have heard about me?

You nodded “no”.

-I see, - he laughed a bit, - you really are not from here, are you?

The more you looked at him, the more it seemed like you were tripping. Somewhere in your mind was a doubt. Alright, you have heard of identical twins, and all that, but so much common in looks on twins, it was a rare sight. And the doubt in your mind was saying, that something was not right.

-You look tired, - he said, - rough night?

You rolled your eyes at the comment. Hendery stood up and walked over.

-How about I untie you, give you some clothing and some soup? It can stay our secret, - he said, and you nodded. Soon after you were clothed and fed, and very thankful.

The next couple of days, you were allowed to move around in the warehouse and a bit outside at the back, mainly just sitting down at a wooden table with one of the henchmen to accompany you. You were thinking. The more you thought of a possibility that could be true, the more you started to agree that it really could be true.

Psychology had taught you well. Seeing the signs of un-healthy mind was easy for you to spot, those couple of months helping Doctor Vera, were paying off.

The next day, while outside eating breakfast, you were greeted by Guanhee.

-I thought I might see you here, - she said startling you, -my brother has treated you well, - she bit her cheek.

-At least he’s nice, - it came out harsher than expected. Guanhee grabbed your hair to turn your face to her, and smacked your cheek, left one first and then your other one. Then she pulled you up only to kick your legs, so you fell on your knees. She didn’t let go of your hair.

-Ah, - she said, - is this how we are going to play? Shall I tie you to the post again? – her eyes were filled with anger as she spat the words out, - starve you until you are nothing but a pile of bones for the wild wolves?

-No wonder everyone hates you, - you hit her weak spot with your sentence.

The cold shower was blasting at you again, you fell down, this time Guanhee was doing it herself, and to your surprise, she was stronger than she looked. Dragging you by your hair, this time she tied you, while you were on your knees. You ended up- legs wide opened, ass in the air, while your breasts were pressed at the wooden post.

She disappeared.

You didn’t even hear or see where she went, but you were left all by yourself, your eyes closing for a brief moment.

-My sister left you for me as a gift, - a voice spoke, waking you up from your slumber, it was Hendery. He was next to you, his hands stroking your sides, your stomach, then your ass cheeks, giving both of them a squeeze. – she knows how to make me happy, - he said.

His hand begin massaging your pussy, stroking your folds.

-Don’t do it, - you squeaked out, when Hendery’s hand touched your clitoris.

-And why not, - he smiled as he continued the assault on your cunt, - my sister already had a taste, I really want to try that too, - he pouted. – she always gets all the fun.

-I would rather suck your dick, - you spoke to stop him.

-Maybe another time, - you heard the zipper of his trousers, and then you felt his thick cock prod at your entrance. He moved his mushroom head up and down your folds, gathering the slick to cover his member. His hand softly touched your stomach as he was steadying himself. – breath in, baby-girl, - he whispered, licking on your ear, where he positioned his body.

His thick cock entered you only a couple of centimeters, you exhaled loudly with a moan. Slipping deeper, Hendery made sure to wait, till you got accustomed, inch by inch. Once completely sheathed inside of you, his balls where right at your bottom, he started a steady rhythm. It was followed by grunts and groans, and every thrust he gave you was as delicious as a desert after a meal.

Your walls were clamping down on him so hard, Hendery had to stop, to make you relax a bit more, and then he would get back to it. He knew you were close, the more your walls were sucking him deeper, the readier to orgasm you were. With a couple more thrusts you came, biting your lips, grabbing onto the wood. Hendery still worked to reach his high, and just before he could, you came again, and then he stilled, filling your abused cunt to the brim.

His arms around your body stayed like that for a while, the same as his lips licked your sweat from the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades. Pulling out slowly, he earned a moan from you.

-Should I leave you like this? – he teased. – I think I will…

-Noo, - you protested, - I cannot feel my knees, - you said honestly.

So instead of leaving you like that, he turned you around, tied your back against the post, with his seed between your legs, making it impossible to move, the unpleasant feeling lingering there. He was smiling at you. The same smile Guanhee gave you. And he walked up the stairs and, in that room, where you had seen Guanhee disappear a couple of times, only to be greeted by Hendery the next day, or Guanhee a day after that.

And as you anticipated, you woke up with someone touching you, opening your eyes you saw Guanhee, licking her lips.

-Beautiful morning, isn’t it? – she asked, and you didn’t respond. – my brother had some fun, I see, - she licked her lips, - I can clean you up, if you’d like?

You nodded a “no”, and Guanhee stared at you, before leaving.

-I know who you are, - you shouted behind her, and Guanhee slowly walked back.

-And what is that?

You stayed quiet, till she was right in front of you. She stared down at you, grabbing your jaw in her hand.

-Hendery is you and you are Hendery, Guanhee doesn’t exist…- you said. – you are not real.

She slapped you.

-Are you afraid of the truth? – you asked. – you and I both know; this is not the way to live.

-Who are you? – she asked, grabbing you even harder.

-I can help you, - you said, - I can help you both, if only you’d let me…

The conclusion – split personality. This might be the scariest patient of all, but you were ready to use your knowledge to help as much as you could.

Guanhee stared at you, leaning in, and you felt something pressing onto your leg. Through her tight skirt, a visible boner was pressing through, her lips attacked yours.

-But before that, we can play a little…

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