#(sorry if you saw me post this the first time i had to fix something)

[iphyslitterator]

Approach

@118dailydrabble, day 17

“Sorry,” Evan says when Spinella leaps on the table. The orange cat curls around the pitcher alarmingly close to Tommy’s arm.

“No problem,” Tommy says, adding, “You can ask.”

Spinella says immediately, “Your daemon’s a bird? What kind of bird?”

“Everyone says bird.”

“You’re a pilot,” she says.

“You seem like you’d have a big daemon,” Evan adds, then blushes.

Tommy smirks. “Try again.”

“Not a mouse,” Spinella says, dismayed.

Raga hisses, “Hi,” and Spinella almost upsets the pitcher. He slithers out of Tommy’s sleeve all the way onto the table and approaches the cat. Interesting.

Evan lights up. “A snake!” he says, and Spinella says, “Your scales are beautiful!” 

Huh. Maybe this date’s going well after all.

tagging #1 Orange Cat Buck Warrior @catchascatchcn

[lailau7904]

So y'all have seen the Williams F1 Logo before, yeah?

well get ready, becaues I am about to ruin your day!

where does one even begin with this. i am sorry in advance. -just a poor learning graphic design student, who simply tried to enjoy their saturday evening

The Logo

For anyone that doesn't know, here's the Williams F1 Logo. Entirely unedited, copied straight from Wikipedia:

Now like many fans, I actually quite enjoy this logo. I like the modern, sharp edges of it and it's simple yet intriguiging design. It's memorable, while also easily recognizable as a W. I also really enjoy the colour choice (this, however, is entirely a personal preference.)

(entire rant under the cut. please keep reading this took years off my life span.)

How did we even get here?

Let's start at the beginning. How did we even get here? Well I, a poor poor learning graphic designer, was watching this lovely video from Mr. V's Garage about bad F1 Logo's over the past 35 or so seasons. Very interesting, I can only recommend it (but you don't need to watch the video to understand this post)!

Now, to cleanse the palette at the end of the video, Mr. V included a top 10 GOOD logos from this time span, it was very kind of him.

On P4 of this "Good List," Mr. V placed the current Williams F1 Logo, as pictured above. At first I vaguely agreed with this, believing that he probably simply hadn't noticed one of the things that's been bothering me about that Logo since the first time I saw it up close.

The first sign of Trouble

So, what is this mystery issue, you might ask?

It's simple really. You don't necessarily notice it at a first glance, but something about that logo seems off. Taking a second longer, you may notice it yourself.

No, I mean it, take a minute and go look at the logo. It looks wonky as hell, doesn't it?

Well I can tell you the first thing that I personally noticed. The arms of the W aren't in line with the bottom half, see:

(Graphic by @girlrussell who was so kind to let me use it, as it is way prettier than the one I made)

It's a crooked W. There is no good explanation for this. The rest of the font is perfectly fine, geometrical shapes.

Anyway, the good person that I am I went to point this out to my partner ( @leftneb ) who proceeded to inform me that he, infact, was not aware about this and was, quote, "never going to unsee that."

Now, the good FRIEND that I am, I, of course, proceeded to rush into our broader F1 friendgroup to make them suffer for eternity.

What's the logical next step to take? Of course, fix the logo in Adobe Photoshop, you know, as a joke.

(Disclaimer at this point, I am not necessarily the biggest fan of Williams Management Team. I enjoy ALL their drivers this season. I do NOT enjoy James Vowels. Be warned.)(Also I am aware that he probably did not have an influence on the logo)

Trying to fix it. Oh god, I was so innocent back then

Trying to fix the logo in Photoshop is the worst mistake I could've made. THE worst path to take. I could've just giggled about making my friends suffer (which I succeeded in, by the way) and moved on. Instead I ruined a perfectly good Saturday evening, and for what? I don't know anymore.

Anyway, how was I gonna go about fixing the logo in the simplest way possible? Simplest way I could come up with: slap the thing in Photoshop and put two, mirrored boxes at each side to make the sides line up. Small issue, how do I make the thing actually even? Fix: line them up at the intersecting point with the bottom tips of the W.

Here's the result:

Hey, anyone care to explain to me why in THE LORDS NAME the arms are different sized? I mean, surely they weren't before. Surely, certainly, I must've messed up.

I double, I tripple checked. I made sure everything was lined up and made sense. But no.

It just couldn't be. Something was uneven in this logo, something even deeper. Something I could not have predicted when first taking a closer look. It was at this point I realized I had messed up. What rabbit hole had I stumbled across? Certainly, it couldn't get much worse.

And that's when I noticed.

(pictured above; my genuine reaction)

There's MORE? (oh god, the top isn't lined up)

I couldn't believe my eyes. This is the PINNACLE of the sport, and THIS was the logo of one of the competing teams? I mean, yeah, we have a Visa Cash App RB or a Kick Sauber or even a MoneyGram Haas which are all terrible logos, but at least they're CLEAN. (this has not been checked. If anyone wishes to ruin a nice Saturday evening, feel free to check them and tell me how wrong I was in the previous statement!)

But you can see that there is no end in sight for this post. I'm sure you're as scared as I was at this point. By now we were sitting in VC, discussing the horribleness of this logo. I had long informed my irl's about this, who take said design classes with me. And it was one of them who pointed out the next thing that had been bothering me, but I had not been able to put a finger on up to this point.

thE DISTANCE, HOW DID THEY FUCK IT?

I'm afraid I have to confirm your fears.

Yes, those lines are the same length. According to Photoshop, they're on the same level as well, so no flunking with angles.

The gaps of the arms to the main W are not the same. They're differently sized gaps.

It was clear to us, this logo is inherintely flawed. They're subtle issues, but once you pay attention you start to notice things. It all looks slightly wonky and off centre. And eventually, you get paranoid, and start comparing other angles and sizes. And you will keep finding things. This has ruined my life.

HOOOOOW

Honestly, I don't even know what to say. Yes, yes sadly those lines, too, are the same length. Just copied over from one side to the other and layed over on the same height. I admit, they're not layed over perfectly. I was honestly holding back tears at this point. But the point still stands, you can clearly see a difference in width.

Honestly, the only way I can explain it is that at some point there was a mess up of distance or proportions and whoever was designing the logo couldn't pin it down and tried to restore the visual balance by making manual adjustments. And in all honesty? They kinda did a good job, if that's what's happened. I mean, you notice the crookedness of the arms, and then maybe the difference in height, but the rest you probably will not notice if you don't spend too much time staring at it. (like some of us) And even those issues clearly aren't noticeable to the vast majority, considering I had to go point it out to a group chat for my friends at least to notice.

what the fuck is THAT?

Now, the thing about doing this investigative work of prooving a team you dislike is worse in more aspects than you previously thought, is that you do a lot of zooming in. And zooming in means you might notice bits that yours eyes simply overlooked before, because they were too small.

Here you can witness the top of the middle point, that, for whatever reason, really wants to touch the top border of the Logo. I'm relatively certain that's the highest few pixel in the entire graphic, considering earlier chapter "There's MORE?" I have no idea why it looks like that or why they thought it was necessary for it to not end in a clean point.

I just actually have no idea how to even describe what is going on on the top of the left arm. That left hand side, again, touches the side and is therefore the most-left-pixel in the graphic. I, once again, have no idea the purpose of this. However the RIGHT hand side also makes no sense, as it is the most prominent corner in the whole logo. There's pointed corners, and rounded OF corners, but nothing that is trying to form it's own colony in a distant land that hopefully isn't this god awful logo. I hope that blob gets away. I really do. You go king.

i'm loosing my mind

Anyway, the only reason I could come UP with those weird "reachy-outy-bits" was to establish the dimensions of the logo? But if that was the case, I don't understand why they managed to keep all the other potentially border touching corners clean?

Like, look. Those are clean, sharp corners with some clearance off the borders. I have no clue why they managed it here but not with the others.

guys. please.

Backtrackig a little bit, going back to the positioning of the arms.

Do I need to mention that those lines are both the same length and the same (mirrored) angle? I really hope I don't, because I don't think I could be making this shit up. Like, once you roughly know what you need to look for it just kinda becomes easy to find.

As said before, I genuinely do think that most of these issues happened in a chain-reaction. For example, the distances between the main part and the W wouldn't be as noticeable (and they do get noticeable once you start looking at it) if the angle wasn't fucked. And guess what, there's more fucked angles here! Which ALSO influence this specific area of the logo!

this is just embarrasing for you.

something something same line copied over and mirrored etc etc

It's not as visible but the angles defintely don't line up here as well. As mentioned before, these issues for the most part all influence each other. It doesn't really excuse the issues, in my opinion as a designer, because a big company like this shouldn't have these sort of issues in their logo.

So let's review;

to sum it up,

i cannot even BEGIN to explain to you how big of a fucking JOKE this FUCKING logo is. because, i thought to myself, to round the post out, hey, why not show ALL the issues i pointed out in one picture? that would round it out quite nicely, wouldn't it?

Yeah well, this logo sent STRAIGHT FROM HELL just could NOT let me rest. I had only done the lines visualizing the crooked arms in PAINT up until this point, i.e. I had only pulled both up individually. To make a nice "rounding out" picture I still had to add them into PHOTOSHOP. so i did. i pulled up the line. i mirrored the line.

THE ANGLE IS FUCKING DIFFERENT

none. and i mean NONE of my friends had noticed this before. i need you to understand that we looked at this thing with FIVE pair of eyes, and NONE of us noticed that until i thought to myself "Oh I still need to add these specific lines to have ALL the issues I pointed out in my SILLY TUMBLR POST in ONE image" and i get THAT FUCKING SURPRISE

I was PLANNING to round the post out with a statement on how obviously this isn't a serious post. Here, I even had it all written out already because I accidentally started writing it in the last paragraph:

Of course, this is nitpicking, and it's not that serious. I'm aware of that. AS MENTIONED most of these would not be noticeable if we hadn't gone specifically looking for them.

yeah, well, fuck that. i just spent two hours seething about this logo. i'm ending the post on this instead.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi! i saw you were taking requests for post prison spencer, so hey

i was thinking about spencer meeting a kinda sunshine reader, and it’s like…love at first sight. she’s literally the one to make him smile for good

feel free to add your magic to it, and to ignore it, don’t feel pressure at all!

have a good day/night <3

babe you guys are saving my life with these requests right now! I'm feeling so good about everything I write again <3 enjoy sunshine!reader x post prison!spencer who looks less tense and serious around you

You’re at his desk, sitting there all perfect in your orange button up and flared pants, Mary Janes clicking on the linoleum tile as you tap your pen against your lips. Your hair is scraped back into a ponytail, the plait brushing the spot between your shoulder blades. 

Spencer had asked about you to Penelope, asked about your personality, about how you work- all the important things. What he didn’t ask was if you were gorgeous and Penelope, who loves to divulge, had never said a thing about your looks. 

“Hi, you’re Y/n right?” Spencer’s standing before you, not realising how intimidating he must look till you jolt in your chair. 

You’d been trying to get your morning crossword and read in before the day had officially begun, a habit you’d been trying to keep up with since you started the job. So far it’s been going- the crosswords are boring so you have to pretend to be distracted by it to let it last a bit more than four minutes.

“Oh sorry, I am. You’re Doctor Spencer Reid,” you lean back in your chair, not bothering to hold out a hand to you. Penelope had grilled you on his aversion to germs and touching people more than needed. “I’m sorry about taking over your desk, but they didn’t have any free ones.” 

Spencer shakes his head, you take a moment to look him over. His hair is a bit looser than you’d imagined, Penelope said curly hair and you’d thought tight spirals- he has pretty loose ringlets, dark and mocha-like.

He smells like leather and something else, maybe plum and black currant- it’s a bit of an all encompassing smell that you like already. He’s much prettier too, he looks tired, but still pretty. His stubble presents a problem, you know it’s going to be your downfall. 

“It’s alright, we keep a tight ship. Have they been treating you well?” 

You tilt your head, “The team or the unsubs? Because it’s been too many cases to have real team building.” You grin when Spencer huffs, making his lips twitch. “But I think getting concussed while saving Newbie’s ass counts for something.” 

Luke grumbles as he walks by with his coffee, “You were hired after I was,” patting Spencer on the back when the taller, lithe, man rolls a chair to sit opposite you. 

“Do you still experience headaches or migraines?” Spencer kicks himself when he sees your tongue poke into your cheek- you’re trying hard not to smile at his question. He also thinks he’s doing a shoddy job of flirting but that can be fixed- he’s been in prison for the last three months, he just needs to get back in the swing of things. 

“I’m pretty sure your first official day back starts with you in Emily’s office and not giving me an impromptu physical, Dr. Reid.” His lips twitch again, cheeks jumping as he shakes his head. 

“It’s just a check-up, no physical yet.” he stands, not really giving himself time to overthink what he’s just said. It’s more than a little presumptuous on his part but you don’t call him an asshole or swear at him, so he thinks he’s okay with it. 

“Do you want your desk back, Spencer?” you’re earnest in asking, not wanting to fuck up his routines and his norm. You can tell you like him already and it’s hardly been a fifteen minute conversation. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take the one right there.” Spencer points a finger to the desk right in behind yours with a little less severity to his lips, his stubble looking even more attractive as he does so. 

You watch him walk away, willing yourself to be professional about all this, he may be hot but he’s your coworker and you know all about close proximity relationships possibly being shams. You’re not here for that, so Spencer will be a good friend. 

You make your way into the kitchen, steps light as you reach for your mug- a cute blue mug with an orca as the handle. 

“So you come in and the kid’s already obsessed with you?” Rossi’s right beside you, making you jump as you put more than the recommended amount of tablespoons of coffee into your mug. 

“It’s not like that, you all made him out to be this awkward shy mess and he isn’t.” You try to sound as casual as you can, but you profile your own voice and know how it sounds to everyone- wistful. 

“Maybe he’s seen a pretty girl and the ‘awkward shy mess’ melted away,” Rossi places his hands on your shoulders. “He’s a good kid. You can trust in that.” 

You roll your eyes, stirring your coffee. “I’m pretty sure he’s in his thirties, Rossi.” You take the milk from him, pouring it in till your coffee is just at the lip of your mug and smile. “Definitely too old.” 

Rossi waves his hand, “I’ve been married four times, old isn’t a marker for romance anymore. Not when you’re only twenty four.” He leaves you be for a moment, and on your walk back to your desk to fill out the remaining crosswords you mull over his words. 

As you sit, you look down and find it all filled out in black ink, opposed to your blue and you know who did it, if the messy scrawled message is anything to go by- ‘You should get The Washington Post puzzles, much more stimulating.’

[elysianightsss]

Pen Pal Price Part Two🫧🍑

nsfw ahead so I’ll cut it off at that point…reader is also described as chubby below because I am so they are too lol.

-

His voice startles you to the point where you visibly flinch, it’s nothing like how you imagined it to be. First of all, you didn’t know he was British. The accent that wraps around his words so sharply is one you recognise but can’t quite put your finger on in this moment.

His voice is deep, rumbles out somewhere from within his chest. It vibrates through the phone and through you. For him your honeyed voice drips into him like the sweetest summer wine.

“Sound so pretty.” You hear him mutter, barely a whisper but definitely something he was trying to hide. Your cheeks burn as you blush hard, your bottom lip caught between your teeth while you think of what to say to the man you’ve been writing to for weeks on end.

So many words exchanged and yet now you’re at a loss. Can’t think properly, it begs the question; how will you react when you meet in person?

“I haven’t got long, I guess now’s the time I tell you what I do for a living.” He chuckles lightly and you wish you could see his face while he does.

“Sounds intriguing.” You frown though your face is still smile stricken.

“Oh you bet it is love. Very dangerous, rough. I don’t think you’d want to hear about it.”

“Excuse me good sir, I live for danger. Did I not tell you how I dangerously painted the spare bedroom the other day? Though I don’t think it went well.” You joked looking over at the room that was half done and had paint streaks pointing in all different directions.

“Are you doubting your mad painting skills?” Your heart soared at the joke, at his laugh, just all of this. Being able to speak to him properly, being able to communicate more easily without waiting a whole week for his response to arrive by post. Shifting through the mail everyday desperate to read his words. You hadn’t felt this happy in years.

“Maybe just a little.” There’s a pause, and you think you hear some background chatter, something about unit leaving and someone definitely says captain, “maybe you could help me?”

“I definitely will.” He doesn’t hesitate with his answer, it’s so sure and so final. It says a lot about him. You’re desperate to know more. “I’m sorry love, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow? Same time?”

And he does, you lunge for the phone practically jumping through the air to answer him. You chat about useless things, have silly little conversations about everyday life. There are days when you think it’s his day off work, those days he stays on the phone to you for hours. Those days are your favourite.

He tells you about the new book he got and even reads you a few chapters while you cook dinner, he makes you promise to cook him a meal sometime. You don’t hesitate to agree.

Again he loves the domesticity of it all, how prefect you are in his eyes, though his ocean blues haven’t actually seen you yet. What a perfect little wife you would make. He knows it’s far too soon to think about things like that but he cannot help himself.

The way you fly away with yourself, talking about what you’re doing that day or joking about something you saw on tv or giggling about the cupcakes you were making because the icing went wrong making what you piped look like pigs instead of the unicorns you were going for, for you niece’s birthday party.

He listens with his eyes closed, dreaming of the day he comes back from deployment. The day he comes back to you, to home smelling of freshly baked goods. His pretty lady waiting for him all smiles and giggles. He wishes.

“Um..” you pause unsure, wondering what if he says no.

“What is it love?” He asks so worried. So ready to fix any problem you throw his why. Once again though you hesitate and once more he encourages you, “Come on pretty lady, tell me. What’s up?” You let the nickname you’ve reprimanded him about numerous times slide with what you’re about to ask.

“D-Did you want t-to video call?” He grins at how fucking adorable you are. The way you stutter just asking a simple question like that. He bites back a groan at the way he stiffens in his trousers. Dirty old man.

“I would love to.” He of course then had to explain he had a flip phone. You laughed hard at him and said he would need a smartphone. You had no idea he would go and buy one just to video call you with. Another thing you reprimand him for, spending his hard earned money so easily like that. His little lady nagging him, and all he does is smile at the sound. He loves it.

Your heart hammers in your chest as the phone rings. A lot like the first time he called you. You had talked him through the set up and helped him understand what an app is and how to call on text on a smart phone. And finally, you told him how to video call. Which app to press, you were just explaining how it works when your phone begins to buzz with ‘John💕 is FaceTime you’ popping up on the screen. Your number of course being the first one he added.

You can’t help but feel nervous, checking you look semi okay on the screen before pressing the green answer button. Then your breath is knocked out of you so hard you actually choke, John fussing about getting some water and breathing for him goes in one ear and out the other. You can’t look away from him even as you catch your breath.

He’s nothing like you pictured and yet he’s perfect.

He looks like the kind of man you picture when you read romance novels and the kind of man that sneaks into the dreams that have you waking up hot under the collar and panties sticking to you uncomfortably. The little description of himself you asked for certainly did not do him justice.

“Hi love.”

“Hi John.”

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” Even though you frown, you can’t stop a smile from splitting your face.

You’ve got chubbier cheeks and thicker thighs than most girls, something you’re insecure about and john can tell. But fuck you look gorgeous to him. Over the next few weeks John catches on to just how badly you feel about your body image, the way you put yourself down in favour of supermodels, the way you wear oversized clothing to cover yourself up. He finds himself grumbling, hating it each second more than the last.

He understands how badly beauty culture has fucked over women who are genuinely beautiful but are made to feel like they’re nothing. He gets it, he does. But he certainly doesn’t agree. Especially not with you. He finds himself dreaming of those squishable cheeks of yours, the way you’re so soft around the edges, he can tell.

You completely did him in last Monday, it’s the middle of winter for goodness sake, how did he know that you’d be wearing shorts when he FaceTimed you. Gym shorts that hugged your plump ass so fucking perfectly, that flashed your thick thighs to him. Christ, he’s been thinking about those pretty thighs all week long. When he’s running drills, your thighs are on his mind. When he’s planning out a mission with his unit, your thighs are on his mind. And when he’s alone at night with his hand wrapped around his swollen cock, your thighs are on his mind.

He can’t stand it anymore, it’s been agonising with how busy he’s been not calling you, not seeing you or hearing your voice. No knowing what you’ve been up to or how your day has gone. He calls and he praises the Lord above for bringing you to him, when you answer. A prayer on his lips, a beg for you to become his wife one day when you’re there smiling in the cutest silk pyjama set he’s ever seen. It hugs you exquisitely, showing off your rounded edges and all John can think about is how he can’t wait to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your tummy.

You’re clearly fresh out the shower or bath with your damp hair and freshly wash face, but John’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life, in fact he tells you so. You haven’t felt your cheeks burn the way they did then, well maybe one other occasion.

“Love?”

“Yes John?”

“Would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow? At that cafe you like?” He’s hopeful when he asks, you can not only hear it in his voice but see it in his face. “I’m in the area for work and have a few days where I’m free and I’d love to see you.”

You can’t recall a time in your life where all you did was smile, but since you found John, you don’t remember what not smiling all the time was like. You don’t remember anything other than how happy he makes you. So you take a breath, you muster up the courage and say yes.

“I’d love to see you too John. Just tell me what time and I’ll be there.”

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.

warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.

notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!

(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)

divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^

You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.

You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.

Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.

To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.

Friends.

The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.

You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.

It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.

So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.

Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.

"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."

"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."

"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."

"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"

Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.

"Natasha."

"Yeah?"

"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.

Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"

"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."

"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.

"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."

"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.

"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.

"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"

"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."

"Just what?"

The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.

The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.

You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."

"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.

She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.

Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"

The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.

"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."

"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.

Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.

"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"

"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"

You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."

She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."

"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."

Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.

You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."

Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.

She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.

"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."

Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.

The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.

"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."

"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."

"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.

Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.

"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.

You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.

"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."

"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"

"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.

"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.

"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."

Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.

The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.

[leonsgfpost]

note: hello, this is my first post and english is not my first language, please understand me haha. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, I'm a little nervous. I would appreciate your support, btw thanks 🎀💗

tags: smut, daydreaming and fantasizing, leon is a pervert, leon RE2 x f!reader.

Leon has never been a high libido guy. He's had one girlfriend in his whole life and a few causal encounters with girls after he got off work. And he enjoyed it, but it was no more than that. A passing moment of pleasure. His sex drive was something he could handle.

Until you came into his life.

The first time Leon saw you, he swore you were an angel. Pretty hair, pretty smile and bright eyes that made his knees weak. But it was no more than that, just an innocent thought. And quickly that little crush on you gradually grew.

At first, he would daydream that he could walk up to you to talk without stumbling over his words like an idiot, and you would smile at him so sweetly that he would forget his name. Maybe I would imagine you on a date. What kind of clothes would you wear? Would you be more shy or funny? What movie would you choose to watch when you two got to the cinema? He would kiss you softly and leave you at your front door. He would be a gentleman for you. But quickly, he began to yearn for more than just a casual greeting or small, empty, casual conversations in the police station break room. When he was alone in the privacy of his room, his imagination would quickly start to run wild and he'd end up with his hands inside his sleep pants jerking his dick hard like he was a fucking teenager again. And that was what Leon had become because of you, a dumb hormonal teenager begging for attention. He mind filled with thoughts he hadn't had in a while. The wet dreams were not long in coming. He had to run to masturbate in the bathroom after a little interaction that returned tight his blue pants tucked snugly. He blushed furiously when their gazes met. God, he was a loser when it came to you.

And here he was again, rubbing his cock hard in the loneliness of his room. Your name falling from his lips with little pleas.

"Please... Please, I just want-" He couldn't finish speaking, choking on his pathetic moans. He hand was rapidly going up and down on him, fantasizing that it was your hand in reality. Little beads of sweat pooling under his blond hair. The constant image of you, lying on his bed and spreading your pretty legs for him tormented him. He just wanted to sink his face into you, run his eager tongue through your folds and drown in the nectar of your pussy. How would you like it? Would you be noisy if he put two fingers inside you? Would you pull his hair hard or just cry while he eats you? He's dying to know. Die to know what kind of expressions you'd put on when he sinks into your heat hard, too stunned to finally have you. Die to know what kind of expressions would cross that pretty face of yours. At the way your nails would dig into his skin leaving marks. He swears he can see you clearly underneath him, his eyes fixed on how his cock slips in and out and his hands firmly hold your thighs. Leon doesn't consider he to have a good physique, but come on. He could hold you still against the mattress as he immobilizes you with his weight, forcing you to take every inch of him.

"You like that, babe? Huh-?" he asks the air, too lost in his cloud and how his hand squeezed his cock, fantasizing that they were your walls.

"Tell me it feels good, moan my name.... P-Please-!" He murmured, his hips ramming his own hand with need. The spiral of his orgasm forming quickly in his belly, because since you appear in his mind, he can't hold back and ends up cumming too fast. Your face prettily flushed, your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and making the hottest expressions towards making Leon's mind spin senselessly.

"Leon, Leon-" He swears he can hear your voice ringing in his head, causing him to roll back on the pillows. Your body jerking from his onslaught, your tits bouncing from the jerky movements and his thumb making quick little circles on your clit was from his favorite fantasies to use right now. Your sweet moans asking him to cum inside was what made his hips jerk, your fingers digging into his skin keeping him from pulling away. And he knows, he knows he could fill you so good you'd go silly for a bit of his dick. Though he was the loser who would beg to get his hands on you.

His breathing becomes heavier, his face puckers with pleasure and his back arches slightly, pushing his hips higher to meet his hand.

He imagines your bright eyes opening to look at him, your eyelashes slightly wet with tears and opening your lips to moan his name. And with that image, his orgasm ran over him like a train. His cock jerking hard as strands of cum splattered across his abdomen and thighs, making a mess. His eyes squeezed shut tight, letting out a long, low, wild moan. His mind took a while to clear, imagining a cute, drunken smile on your lips as he filled you. He was fucked. As he slowly came down from that high, his eyes focused again and his cock softened, jerking his hand through the fat strands of his fluids dropping his fingers.

"Damn." He muttered staring at the ceiling intently, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving with every heavy breath he took.

He was definitely going to ask you out tomorrow. He had to do it before he went crazy.

I'm so in love with him I'm losing my mind. Please let me know if u liked this!

update: omg, this got more support than I thought!! You can now find the second part on my profile! 🎀

bye, bye (💌)

[landosjpg]

the alchemy | ln

where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~0.9k

warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo at the end

note: i had two similar requests in my inbox (one & two) so two birds, one stone! the first one it’s been sitting on my inbox for a couple of weeks now and it was one of the first things i thought of after processing the race. i love writing taylor inspired things so thank you for sending these <3

also! i know i’ve never celebrated milestones but we’re close to 1k and i was wondering if you guys would like for me to do a little celebration or something like that. if you have any ideas of what you’d like to see then maybe send then to me cause i’m so bad at these things :( much love, n

“lando norris wins for the first time in formula one. it’s victory in miami, for norris and mclaren!”

the words kept ringing in your ears as you ran down the pitlane, a sea of papaya around you. you had been holding your breath for the last thirty minutes; the uncertainty of what the outcome would be had you anxiously bouncing your leg from where you were sitting in the mclaren garage.

it wasn’t unusual for you to attend races; after all, lando had been your friend for some time now, and he liked to have you around. however, it was quite the sight, seeing him finally cross the finish line first.

one for the history books.

you watched as he took his helmet off, carefully placing it on the floor before running to where his team was, only a few meters away from you. your smile grew wider as you saw him jumping into them, the mechanics patting his back in excitement before lifting him in the air. you were mesmerized by the sight of him, he was glowing; the smile on his lips brighter than ever. few hugs and words of praised were exchanged until he finally found you in the crowd.

as you watched him walk over to you, eyes sparkling and most charming smile you had ever lied your eyes on, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were. not just to be there, but to have him.

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me.”

you opened your arms to welcome him into an embrace, but he had other plans in mind. it all happened so fast, his hands cupping your cheeks before his lips crashed into yours, your heart skipped a beat as all the cameras flashed around you. but before you could even process what had happened, he pulled away.

“fuck. sorry, the adrenaline,” he chuckled nervously, his gaze fixed on yours nevertheless as his hands dropped from where he was holding your face.

“i’m proud of you,” you brushed it off immediately, giving him a smile and wiping the proud tears that still rolled down your cheeks. “you deserve this.”

he smiled and nodded before walking to his post-race interview, leaving you hot-faced and with a knot forming in your stomach.

you watched the celebrations from afar, letting him enjoy his moment; and most importantly, not wanting to get drenched in champagne. everyone chanted his name and your eyes followed him everywhere, but you couldn’t get that kiss out of your mind.

maybe it was a little silly, he had said it was just the adrenaline. but it wasn’t a secret to any of you that lando used to have a crush on you when you first met; perhaps that spot in his heart was still yours.

but the butterflies in your stomach started fluttering again when you saw him taking his trophy in his arms before making his way to you once the celebrations were over.

silence settled between the both of you as you made your way back to his driver’s room. it wasn’t uncomfortable, it never was with him; and the smiles in both your faces said enough.

“i’m sorry for that,” he said right after the door closed behind you. “i don’t know why i did it, i was too high in adrenaline and…”

“lando,” you tried to cut him off, miserably failing as he kept talking over you.

“i wasn’t really thinking, i hope you’re not mad at me and it doesn’t change anything between us, i would hate to…”

“lando,” you took a step closer to him, one of your hands reaching to cup his cheek, but it didn’t seem to calm his nerves.

“lose you over it, you’re one of my best friends and…” you sighed, he was completely ignoring you as he kept rambling.

not wanting to hear anymore of that, you decided to act on it instead; he wasn’t gonna listen to you, anyway.

your hand slipped to the back of his head and you pulled him closer to you, your lips meetings for the second time as he finally stopped talking.

he felt his heart racing, and he swore you could even hear it. he pulled away only a few seconds later, looking at you perplexed.

“what was that?” he sounded breathless.

“i don’t know,” your cheeks felt hot again, maybe he did mean it when he said it only was the adrenaline. “but it feels right.”

at your words he smiled and sealed the gap between your mouths, this time daring to slip his tongue between your lips, deepening the kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“took you long enough to realize,” he whispered in between kisses, making you chuckle.

“you knew i’m not into losers,” you sassed, making him roll his eyes.

“i hate you,” he poked your side, earning a giggle from you.

“sure you do, norris. now go take a shower, we need to keep celebrating,” your hand softly squeezed his arm, the smile on his lips growing wider.

“i guess i’m not the only one coming first tonight, then?”

cocky.

“you’re an idiot,” you sighed, shaking your head. “we’ll see about that.”

he just smiled, pecking your lips before leaving you to gather your thoughts while he got ready.

you sighed. the chemistry between the both of you had always been undeniably strong. and after all that time, all the wait had paid off in the end.

“honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?”

[wholoveseggs]

Rules {Part Five}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Five

It was never a good idea, falling in love with the enemy. But how were you supposed to know how it would all end up?

♡♡ THANK YOU so much for all the love for this series!!! I had so much fun reading all your comments and inbox messages. Enjoy! and please don't hate me for the ending...♡♡

10.7k words {sorry not sorry} - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, smuttttt, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, secret affair, forbidden romance, KLAUS, a little Katherine cameo, ritual sacrifice, death, murder, pain, pain and more pain...

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!

If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123

Information, of all things of value in this world, is most precious. Katherine had learned that the hardest of ways.

She had been trying to keep tabs on everyone, especially the Salvatore brothers, who were the cause of her most recent headaches. Dwelling on the irony of that made her skin itch, considering the amount of time she had spent causing them grief.

She was sipping on a glass of bourbon, trying not to think about how her plans were crumbling. She hoped to charm Elijah, get him to protect her like he did last time.

But when he found her, he wasn't the same. He didn't have the same softness about him, the gentleness in his eyes. He was harder, angrier, more ruthless. She supposed that was her fault, she wondered how her life would have turned out had she trusted him...

She didn't regret her choice, she knew it was worth it, she always chose her freedom first, nothing else mattered. 

And she had almost gotten away, if only she had a little more information.

But now, here she was, back under the thumb of the man who had taken everything from her.

Klaus.

"Please, just...kill me. I've told you everything that I know," she pleaded, not sure why she was bothering.

He never showed her mercy, but she couldn't help but hope he would spare her, if not for old times sake.

"You see, I believe that you believe that, but what would you not know? What could they be keeping from you? Hmm? Anything? Tell me." He said, his voice was calm as he compelled her to speak the truth.

"When I was at the Salvatore house, I saw their sister, drugged and unconscious. They were keeping her that way,"she said, her voice trembling, she couldn't control the words that came out.

Klaus smiled, the wheels turning in his mind, "Any theories on why they would do that to her?"

Katherine had an idea, but she had no proof. She had no idea what Damon was up to, but he always had a plan.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, she didn't like where this was going.

"C'mon, you have always been a clever little minx," Klaus purred, his hand coming up to caress her cheek, it made her feel sick. 

"The only reason I can think of is to stop her from doing something," Katherine said, her mind racing, thinking back to everything she had seen, and the things she had missed.

Klaus grinned, his hand moving down to her throat, he began squeezing the air out of her.

"You can detect weaknesses like a bloodhound can sniff out a fox, so tell me, sweetheart. Is this your best guess or are you holding something back?" He asked, his fingers tightening.

She struggled, clawing at his arm, desperately trying to loosen his grip. "She's... Loyal to a fault, to those she loves, she tried to kill me in the 1800s for messing with her brothers,"

He raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of amusement, "So you think she's shifted loyalties? To whom?" He let go of her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, coughing and wheezing.

"I don't know... The only other players in town are the wolves... There's no reason for her to side with them..." She paused, her mind racing.

"There's only one other option," she said, her face contorting into a grin.

"Who?" Klaus growled, his patience was growing thin.

"Elijah.”

You woke in a strange daze, unsure of how much time had passed. You didn't feel rested, in fact, you felt sluggish.

You sighed softly, trying to gather your strength. Your mind was slightly hazy and you felt hungover. Your limbs were not responding to your commands, causing you even more panic.

Your eyes finally opened, adjusting to the light. You were in your own bedroom, laying on your bed, the soft hum of your ceiling fan was the only thing you could hear.

You had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you slowly looked around. There was a pile of empty blood bags on your nightstand, a cup full of vervain, and a half-empty bottle of bourbon. It was clear that someone had been here taking care of you and keeping you sedated, judging by the empty bottle it was most likely Damon.

You rolled out of bed, stumbling across the room. Your legs were weak, and you were still groggy. You managed to make it to the door and pull it open.

It was eerily quiet, the ticking clock in the hallway was pounding in your ears. You walked towards the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall, hoping to make it all the way down without falling.

As soon as you made it to the bottom, you were overcome with a wave of nausea and dizziness. You grabbed the banister, closing your eyes, waiting for the spell to pass.

Fuzzy, half formed memories came flooding back to you. Elijah was gone, your brothers had stabbed him, and then they had drugged you, so you couldn't wake him.

You remembered Damon coming into your room, holding a blood bag up to your lips, forcing you to drink.

You remembered Stefan, sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair off your forehead, telling you to sleep.

You remembered Elena, cleaning your face, her voice low and gentle, she had been crying, apologizing.

Someone had carried you outside, then Elena invited you back in. The house was under her name now, a new defense measure added. You wondered who they were trying to keep out, had Klaus finally come to town? Fear suddenly gripped you... Where was everyone?

You slowly made your way to the basement door, taking the steps one at a time, trying to ignore the overwhelming need to puke.

Once you were down in the basement, you looked at Elijah's body, lying in the same position you left him. His clothes were now charred and tattered, the pillow and blanket were gone, probably burned to ash.

You moved closer, collapsing on the floor next to his body. He looked the same, gray, his eyes closed, his hair in disarray. You brushed his hair back, leaning down and kissing his forehead.

"lijah," you whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. "I know we agreed, if anything happens, we would say goodbye and walk away, but I can't, not this time. You're a part of me, I don't think you even realize how much you have come to mean to me."

You looked at the dagger in his chest, weighing the consequences of pulling it out. You didn't know what would happen if he woke up, he could rip you to shreds, or he could pull you into his arms, and hold you until you stopped crying.

There was a fifty-fifty chance he would do the latter, and that was good enough for you. Your fingers curled around the blade and you pulled it out. Then you dropped it onto the floor, letting it land with a metallic thud.

Nothing happened.

Elijah was still.

You leaned down and pressed your ear to his chest, listening.

Nothing.

"Please," you said softly, kissing his cold cheek. "Please wake up."

You returned to laying your head on his chest, your fingers curling in the fabric of his suit.

You closed your eyes, tears running down your face, holding in a breath. Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Suddenly, his heart sprung to life, beating rapidly. You sat up quickly, looking down at him, his eyes were open.

You could hardly believe it, he was looking up at the ceiling, his chest heaving, his mouth open. Then he sat up, gasping for air, looking around the basement wildly.

He was in clear agony, struggling to breathe, he looked at you with anguished eyes, the color returning to his face.

"I can't...I can't be in this house." He rushed to his feet, falling over himself, stumbling his way to the exit.

You limped out of the basement and upstairs, racing after him. The moment he got outside, he collapsed on his knees, taking in deep breaths.

You knelt in front of him, safe behind the threshold of the doorway.

"I'm so sorry," You said, your voice shaking. "I had no idea. They drugged me and I couldn't..."

"Y/n," He interrupted, his eyes finding yours, they were full of pain. "I...need a moment,"

You nodded, holding back tears that were threatening to spill. He looked awful, his clothes were ruined, and his skin was gray and dull. He was clearly starving.

You took the dagger and rolled it past the threshold, it hit his knee and he grabbed it, holding it in his hand. He glared at the blade, then looked up at you.

"Thank you," he said, his expression softening. "So much for rule three,"

"You would have done the same for me," you replied, a hint of a smile on your lips.

He slowly got to his feet, his skin still a bit gray, his face tired and worn. He held his hand out, inviting you to step over the threshold, which you did, allowing him to pull you into his arms.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the embrace, your arms wrapped around his neck, you buried your face into his shoulder.

"This is a bad idea," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"I know," you said, squeezing him tightly.

He didn't respond, simply holding you against him, his breathing steadying.

"Do you want to get out of here?" You asked, looking up at him, a sad expression on his face.

"That is an excellent idea,"

Your phone would not stop ringing.

You had been ignoring it for the last few hours. Elijah had taken you to a luxury hotel the next town over, far enough from Mystic Falls so you didn't have to worry about anyone showing up unexpectedly.

You were sitting on the bed, eating some room service, watching him try on some suits he had compelled the concierge to bring to the room.

"Who keeps calling?" Elijah asked, looking at you over his shoulder, buttoning a shirt.

"Damon and Stefan," You replied, sighing, "they are probably worried."

"Why haven't you answered?" He asked, frowning.

"Because... I'm mad at them," You admitted, picking at the food on your plate. "After what they did to me,"

"They were protecting themselves, and you," he said softly, putting his suit jacket on, and smoothing it.

You were surprised by him defending them, considering they had literally killed him.

"It doesn't matter, I can't face them right now," you said, shaking your head, "I'll just ignore their calls, it's the best I can do."

A text from Damon popped up on your screen, in full capital letters, it read:

‘WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! ANSWER YOUR PHONE.’

You grumbled and picked your phone up, ready to block him when you got another text. This one was from Stefan:

‘Klaus is in town, in Alaric's body. Please just let us know you are okay,’

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, staring at the message.

Elijah had been looking at you and saw your reaction, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, maybe nothing," you said, showing him your phone, his face darkening when he saw the texts.

He looked at you for a long moment, like he was contemplating his next words very carefully.

"What?" You asked, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can't do this," he said, shaking his head. "It's too dangerous."

"What?" You said again, standing up and walking over to him.

You placed your hands on his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. He was avoiding your gaze, but his arms moved around your waist, pulling you against him.

"What's wrong?" You asked, searching his face, but he still wouldn't look at you.

"Rule two, darling," he said softly, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands caressing your back.

"Don't do that," you said, your voice breaking, your chest ached, you were holding back tears. "I don't care about the rules, I just want you,"

"You don't know what you're asking for," he said, his breath hitching, his voice low. "If Klaus finds out about you and I, he will kill you,"

"Why? Why do you want to kill him? Who is he to you?" You asked, wanting answers, your hands curled into fists on his chest.

"I've known him since I was a child, he's my brother," he said, pulling back, so he could look you in the eyes.

You blinked, not believing what he was saying.

"But..." you stammered, not sure what to say.

He swallowed hard and began telling you all about his life. His family, what life was like in the viking age, being turned vampire, learning his mother had been unfaithful, that his beloved brother was a bastard.

"I never saw him any different, none of our siblings did," he said, his voice wavering.

You could tell this was a difficult subject, you squeezed his hand, reminding him that you were there.

"We learned of our mother's infidelity in the worst way possible..." He trailed off, his voice shaking.

"You don't have to," you said, scooting closer, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head against yours, his fingers stroking your arm. "I've done many terrible things, but what plagues me the most is what I did to Niklaus,"

"What did you do?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him, his brown eyes were watery.

He shook his head, unable to vocalize it, and you didn't push him. You held him, waiting, knowing it would take time.

He eventually continued, his voice low, filled with shame. "My mother was a powerful witch, she cursed him. She bound his werewolf side, made him weaker, unable to turn. She used the full moon to make it possible to break the curse."

You frowned, thinking over what he was telling you. It didn't make any sense, Klaus was a vampire, not a werewolf.

"I thought..." you said, hesitating. "I thought he was a vampire,"

"He is," Elijah said, nodding, "he's also a werewolf, but that side of him bound,"

He continued his story, explaining how Klaus was different, that he was a hybrid. The first and only of his kind, half vampire, half werewolf.

He told you how Klaus was angry and resentful, and that he had good reason to be. That he and Klaus had spent many centuries trying to break his curse, to free him from his chains.

"So the ritual isn't about werewolves or vampires being freed from their curses," You said, the realization hitting you.

"No, it's not," He admitted, frowning. "It's about my brother,"

You were quiet for a long time, processing all of the information. So Klaus had no intention of freeing the werewolves or the vampires, he just wanted to be free.

"So why do you want to kill him?" You asked, looking at Elijah.

He sighed, rubbing his face, clearly struggling.

"I have other siblings, and he took them from me," He said, his tone was strained, the words catching in his throat. "I've searched for decades, and I can't find them,"

You squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.

"I've lost all hope of ever finding them," he said, his jaw clenching, he looked at you with his dark tear filled eyes. "All I have now is my revenge,"

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. If you lost your brothers, you would burn the world down to avenge them.

"What is the ritual supposed to do?" You asked, curious, wanting to learn more.

"He has to kill a werewolf, a vampire, and a doppelganger. Their blood is necessary for the ritual," he explained, his fingers gently running along your arm. "When it's complete he will be weakened, then I will kill him."

"Elena is innocent... Elijah I'm sorry but you can't let him hurt her," you said, frowning.

He looked away from you, his brow furrowing, "She has to die, but not permanently,"

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused.

"A few centuries ago, there was another doppelganger, I grew some affections for her... I found a way to keep her alive," he said, his tone was flat.

"Katherine," you said, the name leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

He nodded, "I will give Elena the elixir I acquired for Katerina. It will save her,"

You let out a sigh of relief, at least Elena would be safe.

"To kill your brother, it's not an easy thing to do," You said, leaning your head against his. "Are you really prepared for what it means?"

"The full moon is in three days," He said, changing the subject, his expression was grim. "The ritual will happen then,"

"Yes," he said, without a moment of hesitation.

You sat in silence, neither of you knew what to say.

"Sometimes there's honor in revenge," he said, his hand resting on your leg. "And sometimes you just need to put down a rabid dog, no matter how much you once loved him."

"Eli-," You started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours.

You melted against him, forgetting what you were about to say. He had this way of silencing you, and it drove you crazy.

"No more talk of the ritual," he said, his fingers gently brushing over your cheek, his eyes gazing into yours. "I want to enjoy the time we have left,"

You didn't know what to say, so you nodded, and he kissed you again.

Elijah watched you sleep, the sheet barely covering your naked body. His fingers traced patterns along your skin, his touch light as a feather.

He was trying to ignore the dread, the sinking feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach.He needed to plan, to prepare for what he had to do, but the only thing on his mind was you.

He should have known better, he was foolish to have ever gotten involved with you. When he came to Mystic Falls he told himself no weaknesses, no distractions, and yet here you were.

"Stop watching me, it's creepy," you mumbled, rolling over, the sheet falling off of you, revealing your naked form.

"Apologies," he said, unable to help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

"I forgive you, I know I'm irresistible," you said, yawning, stretching, your body arching.

He chuckled, leaning over, kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, "If I asked you to do something, would you do it?"

You gave him a curious look, your fingers tangling in his hair, "That depends,"

"Would you stay here, and not interfere with the ritual?" He asked, his brow furrowing, his tone was strained.

"Elijah-," You said, sitting up, the sheets pooling around your waist.

"Please," he begged, his eyes softening.

"But Elena-," You tried to protest, but he cut you off with a kiss, his hands cupping your face.

"Your brothers will keep her safe, but if you were involved... I would lose my mind with worry," he admitted, his eyes filled with turmoil.

"I thought this was just physical?" You teased, hoping to ease the tension.

He smiled and shook his head, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I love you," he said it so softly you barely heard it, his voice cracking.

You looked at him, searching his face for any signs of a lie, but there was none. He wasn't lying, he was telling the truth, the sincerity in his words and his eyes was evident.

Your words caught in your throat, a lump forming. You couldn't bring yourself to say it, you wanted to, but it was like there was a block.

You pressed your lips to his, your tongue sliding past his lips, kissing him deeply, trying to pour all of your emotions into it.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing your jaw, "Say it,"

"I can't," You whispered, your voice wavering.

He tilted your chin up, his dark eyes meeting yours. "I love you miss Salvatore, and it frightens me more than anything ever has,"

"Elijah," you said, cupping his face, your heart aching. "I... I love you too,"

He pulled you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You were panting, the kiss was heated, needy, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You felt his erection against your inner thigh, hard and ready, and you ground against it.

"I love you," you repeated, his hands grabbing your ass, pulling you closer.

"I love you," he replied, his lips attacking your neck, sucking, biting, marking you as his.

You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his length, sliding your hand along his shaft, positioning him at your entrance.

You lowered yourself down, desperately needing to feel connected to him, his fingers dug into your hips as you sat fully in his lap, taking him deep inside of you.

He moaned, his eyes closing, his head tilting back, you leaned forward and kissed his neck, your fangs scraping along his skin.

You rolled your hips, slowly, taking him in and out of you, his breath hitching with each movement. You grinned against his skin, loving how you were making him react.

"That's it, take what you need," he said, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, keeping you close to him.

"I love you," you breathed, your voice a soft whimper, as you sunk your fangs into his neck.

His blood flooded your mouth, warm and sweet, and you sucked, feeling his pulse beating against your lips. He tasted like pure power, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

He moaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, gripping it tight. You were riding him, moving your hips in a fluid motion, grinding down onto him, feeling his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside.

You pulled back, his blood dripping from your lips, his hands were on your ass, guiding your hips. He kissed you, biting down on your bottom lip and tasting you. Your blood mixing together, it was the most erotic thing you had ever done.

"That's my girl," he whispered, his voice ragged, his eyes dark with lust. "So beautiful, and mine,"

"Yes, all yours," you moaned, grinding down harder onto him.

You felt his hand moving between your ass cheeks, his finger finding your puckered hole, slowly pressing into you.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, it felt so good, him inside of you like this.

"I want you to cum for me, my sweet little love," he said, his voice soft and gentle, his finger moving deeper.

You moaned, clutching at his chest, your nails raking along his skin, drawing blood. The combination of him filling you, his finger, and the taste of his blood in your mouth sent you over the edge.

You let out a long, low moan, against his lips, your walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he had.

He grunted, his eyes fluttering closed, he bit his lip, trying to muffle his moans, and he came deep inside of you.

Your body was trembling, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, his skin slick with sweat, the smell of sex and blood hung heavy in the air.

You pulled back and kissed him, his hand cupping the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"After this is all over, will you come with me?" He asked, his hand stroking your cheek.

"Where would we go?" You asked, smiling.

"Anywhere, preferably somewhere with a beach and sunshine," he replied, his fingers running through your hair.

"It's a date," you said, nuzzling his neck, breathing in his scent.

"A date?" He chuckled, his fingers tickling your sides, you giggled and squirmed away from him. "That's new for us,"

You grinned, looking down at him. "I like the sound of it,"

"As do I," he agreed, his hand stroking your cheek.

"When I first met you, I never would've thought we'd end up here," you mused, running your fingers along his jaw.

"Neither did I," he admitted, his lips turning up into a small smile.

"So, tell me about this beach trip, what would we do?" You asked, wanting to keep him talking, not wanting to leave his side.

"Hmmm," he said, thinking for a moment. "I would find us a quiet little bungalow, right on the water, with a private stretch of sand for us,"

You closed your eyes, listening to the smooth timber of his voice, imagining the soft waves and fresh ocean air.

"And we'd have our meals brought in by servants, we'd lounge on the beach, swim, and make love whenever the mood struck us," he said, his fingers dancing across your back.

"I could live with that," you said, sighing contently, enjoying his warmth.

"I'm glad," he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, a soft, gentle kiss.

You broke the kiss and stared into his dark eyes, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

"If anything happens to me I want you to know, I don't regret a single second of it," he said, his voice soft.

"What?" You asked, giving him a worried look.

"You need to know, in case I fail, and my brother ends me before I can end him," he said, his face serious, his eyes clouded with fear.

"Elijah-," you started to protest, but he cut you off.

"Promise me," he said, his voice pleading. "If this ends badly, you will remember rule three,"

"I thought we had given up on the rules," you said, trying not to let him see how afraid you were.

"Not this one," he said, his voice cracking.

"Why? You can't seriously expect me to-"

"Please," he said, his dark eyes locked on yours. "For me,"

You sighed and nodded, leaning into him, his arms wrapping around you.

"Thank you," he whispered, his fingers stroking your back, his lips brushing against your hair.

"Just come back to me," you said, trying not to cry.

"Always,”

The problem, Damon: you talk a good game but you don't actually know anything. She'll never forgive you. And never for a vampire...It's a very long time.

Elijah's words had been echoing around in Damon's head since that morning, the smugness in the older vampire's voice made him want to put his fist through the wall.

He had made a mess of things, but he couldn't admit that to anyone. The feeling he had when he learned that today was the day of the sacrifice, the day that he would lose Elena... He simply couldn't handle it. His desire for action was overwhelming.

He didn't like everything being out of his control, so he did what he had to do. And now his brother and Elena hated him. Elijah being right was the cherry on top of his shit sundae. 

In times like this, when he hit rock bottom then fell a little further, he turned to his oldest friend, his closest confidant, his beloved sister. 

But you weren't picking up the phone, despite Elijah's assurances you were alive and somewhere safe, it didn't soothe his worries.

So he tried one last time, and this time you actually picked up, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heard your voice.

"If you are calling to lecture me on love, I will remind you that you are no better," your voice made his throat constrict.

"I know, I'm not," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

"Are you okay?" You asked, a little softer.

"No," he answered, his voice shaking.

"What happened?" You asked, concern creeping into your tone.

"Everything's gone to hell," he replied, his voice strained. "I gave Elena my blood... Well actually I made her drink my blood,"

"Oh Damon..."

"I had no other choice,"

"She's going to hate you,"

"I know, Elijah told me,"

"Damon... He's right,"

"I know that too,"

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, he could hear you moving around, like you were packing a bag.

"I'm on my way," you said, finally. "Partly to kick your ass, partly to give you a hug,"

"Always the multitasker," he joked, his voice cracking. "But do not come home tonight, I just need to know you are safe,"

"I'll do what I want," you said, and he could almost see the pout on your lips.

He smiled, he had missed your stubbornness, and it was the closest thing to normal he had felt all day. But he couldn't risk you being involved, everyone was already in the crossfire, and the thought of you being added to that mix was too much for him to bear.

"Sister," he said, his voice firm. "Please, please, listen to me, just this once, and stay away,"

You let out a long, irritated sigh, "I'm so bored, and I'm getting hungry,"

"Well then go find someone nice to eat and watch a movie," he suggested, chuckling.

"I can't concentrate, not when everyone I love is in danger," you grumbled.

"Does that love extend to Elijah?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Yes," you said simply, and his heart ached.

He had known, of course, but hearing you say it aloud made it real.

"Why him? Like seriously..." Damon asked, he was genuinely curious, and he needed something to distract him from the shit show he had gotten himself into. "How did you even meet him?"

"I was hunting," you answered, sounding amused. "He found my methods to be entertaining, and I found him to be a challenge,"

"Did you know who he was? What he planned for Elena?" Damon asked, trying not to sound judgemental.

"Yes, I knew who he was. But we had rules, to keep things from getting complicated," you explained.

"That didn't really work out did it?" He teased, smiling.

"No," you admitted, laughing.

There was a long pause, and he could feel his emotions starting to get the best of him.

"Damon, promise me you won't die for her?" You asked, your voice wavering.

"You know I can't do that," he said, his voice low.

"I know," you whispered. "Just please, try to survive this,"

"I'll do my best," he promised, knowing he couldn't really promise anything.

"I love you big brother," you said, and his eyes started to water. "Tell Stefan I love him too,"

"I will, I love you too," he choked out, and he heard the line go dead.

Damon stared at his phone, the picture of you, him and Stefan was staring back at him, his heart aching.

"I hope I see you tomorrow, little sis,"

The town you were hiding out in was quiet and a little boring, but you didn't mind. It was the first time in a long time you had had a few days to yourself, no drama, no life or death situations. Just perfect mundanity.

You were lounging in a café, enjoying a cup of coffee, and watching the locals, wondering what their lives were like. You envied them, their simplicity, their happiness. You imagined you and Elijah in a little house, in a place like this, with a garden and a view of the ocean.

You were lost in your own world, dreaming about the impossible, when someone cleared their throat. You looked up, a smile playing at your lips. Dinner had just arrived. 

He was handsome, with curly hair and blue eyes, he had a sharp wicked glint in his eyes that sent a thrill through you. You always enjoyed a good meal with a bit of bite.

"Mind if I sit?" He asked, grinning.

"Not at all," you purred, gesturing to the chair.

He sat, and ordered a coffee, and he turned his attention back to you.

"I don't mean to be so forward, but you are downright striking," he said, his gaze running over your body.

"Thank you," you said, giving him a flirty smile. "It's a bit of a family trait,"

"Is that so? Mine as well, if you can't tell," he said, smiling.

You laughed, enjoying his company.

"You aren't from around here," he observed, sipping his coffee.

"Neither are you," you said, tilting your head.

"I'm just visiting, on vacation," he replied, grinning.

"Same,"

He was charming, and handsome, and you could feel the hunger starting to rise within you.

"I'm staying at the Inn down the street," he said, giving you a hopeful look.

"I'm staying there as well,"

"Well then, may I escort you home?"

"You may,"

The walk back to the Inn was short, you enjoyed his company, he was easy to talk to, and funny.

"Would you like a nightcap?" He asked, flashing you a crooked smile.

"That would be lovely," you said, grinning.

His hand came to rest on the small of your back, guiding you into the room. You usually enjoyed playing with your food a little before you ate, but you were committed to Elijah now, and you didn't want to stray.

As soon as you entered his room, he pinned you to the wall, moving in to kiss you. You politely dodged by pressing your lips to his neck, breathing him in.

"You are a vision," he said, his hand sliding up your arm, and into your hair.

"Thank you," you murmured, your fangs grazing his skin, his pulse racing beneath your lips.

He moaned, and gripped your waist, pressing his hips against yours. You could feel him, hard against your thigh, and you went to bite down.

Suddenly, he pulled your head back by your hair, hard. With strength you hadn't expected, he forced you back, pushing you hard into the wall, the plaster cracking behind you.

"I see why my brother is so taken," he growled, his eyes darkening.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, "Klaus,"

"The one and only, love," he said, smirking.

You tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too strong.

"Don't worry, love," he purred, his hand stroking your cheek. "I won't hurt you,"

"Fuck you," you said, glaring at him.

He smirked, and kissed you, hard, his teeth cutting into your lips.

"You're a feisty little thing," he said, licking his lips. "Even wilder than your brothers,"

You hissed and tried to struggle, his hands tightening around your arms, digging into your skin. "If you hurt them..."

"Now, now," he said, tutting. "Let's not make threats, especially when you can't back them up,"

You bared your fangs at him, but he only grinned.

"I've been wanting to meet you," he said, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "Elijah's little distraction,"

"I'm more than a distraction," you growled, struggling against his hold.

"Hmmm," he hummed, leaning in and nuzzling your neck. "I know,"

You were too frightened to speak, your whole body trembling.

"It's what I'm counting on dear,"

Klaus had been dragging you through the woods for what felt like hours.

Your fear had turned into anger and you began to try and fight him. It seemed to amuse him for a while, he'd let you run only to catch you with ease.

"Why are you doing this?" You growled, his hand holding your arm tightly, leading you through the trees.

"To be reborn, as I truly am," he said, his expression thoughtful.

You rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh, he was a narcissist, the kind of man who enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" He asked, looking down at you. "One thousand years,"

 "I know," you sighed.

"Of course you do," he said, smirking. "Elijah loves to spill his heart out after a good bedding doesn't he?"

You didn't answer him, he was trying to get under your skin, and it was working.

"My brother has always been the strong, self righteous type, with an unbreakable moral code," Klaus chuckled, picking up his pace, dragging you along. "That is... Until he gets his face between a pretty pair of legs,"

"Fuck you," you spat, anger boiling up inside of you.

"You have a smart mouth," he said, his fingers squeezing your arm. "I think I'll like to see how you use it later,"

You freed yourself from his grip and slapped him hard across the face. No man was allowed to speak to you in that way, and you certainly weren't going to tolerate it from this monster.

His expression changed from amusement to anger in the blink of an eye. He slammed you against a nearby tree, the twigs and branches impaling you.

You cried out, blood pouring from the puncture wounds, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye.

 "That was very, very stupid,"

His words sent a chill down your spine, and a fresh wave of fear washed over you.

"What's the matter?" He asked, his tone taunting. "No more choice words and acts of violence for me?"

"Don't kill me," you said, tears starting to run down your cheeks.

"I won't," he assured you, his lips brushing against yours. "But I will kill everyone in Mystic Falls if you don't do what I say. If you don't believe me... Just ask sweet little Katerina about it,"

Your blood ran cold, you knew what he was capable of, and you had no choice but to obey him.

Through the trees you could see a circle of fire, and you felt dread sink into the pit of your stomach.

"No," you pleaded, trying to pull away.

"Stop being so dramatic, love," he said, rolling his eyes.

He pulled you into the clearing, throwing you down on the ground next to the three women sitting in their own rings of fire.

You could see Elena, a terrified look on her face, along with her aunt Jenna and a woman you didn't recognize.

"Hello my lovelies," Klaus said, grinning. "Are we all ready?"

He gave you a swift kick, then grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. "I brought an assistant with me,"

He pushed you forward, leaving you to stand there as he walked to the altar, handing the moonstone to a witch standing nearby.

You looked at Elena and Jenna, they were beyond scared, their eyes full of tears, and you felt your stomach twist, you didn't know how to help them.

The witch had begun to chant, a mixture of Latin and something else, the moonstone began to spark, then it exploded into nothing.

"Bring me the wolf," Klaus demanded, looking at you with a wild, manic look in his eyes.

You shook your head, your whole body trembling, you refused to let him hurt someone else.

"It's either them or the entire town, love. That includes your brothers," he growled, his jaw clenched.

The thought of losing Stefan and Damon made your stomach clench, and tears started to run down your face.

"Bring her. Now," he growled, his tone brokering no argument.

You walked towards the first ring of fire, to the terrified woman who was writhing in pain, her cries echoing through the trees.

The ring disappeared as you approached, and you lifted the girl into your arms. She was whimpering and shaking, the transition having begun.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, carrying her to the altar.

"Good girl," Klaus hummed, taking the wolf from your arms, and laying her on the stone.

Klaus kneeled over her, looking down at her with an evil grin, his eyes were filled with a mix of desire and madness, and he plunged his hand into her chest, ripping her heart out.

Jenna and Elena screamed, watching Klaus hold up the wolf's heart, his expression triumphant.

"I'll make it quick, I promise," Klaus said, grinning. "They will barely feel a thing,"

You looked over at Elena and Jenna, their screams piercing the air, the witches chanting growing louder.

Elijah was looking up at the night sky, watching the moon slowly make its way across, his thoughts on you. He couldn't stop thinking about your smile, and the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him.

If tonight went smoothly, he had so many plans with you, the first was taking you to Paris, a city that was sure to dazzle you. After that he would whisk you away to Rome, where you could visit the many art museums and eat all the food you wanted.

He wanted to spoil you, shower you with everything you could ever want, and then some. It had been nearly sixty years of searching for his brother, trying to uncover the rest of his family. He felt like tonight was the first chance he had to truly mourn, then he could finally move on and spend the rest of his time with you. 

He had spoken with Stefan earlier, before he left with Bonnie to go stop Klaus. He liked Stefan, he was an honorable man who respected the choices of the ones he loved, even if he didn't agree with them.

Elijah hoped he and Stefan could be friends one day, once everything settled down, he knew that would make you happy. To see peace between him and your brothers. Damon would be a more difficult task, he reminded him of Klaus, cocky and impulsive, and that was a difficult combination.

The waiting was beginning to make him antsy. He had to wait for the right moment to strike, but there were so many factors outside of his control, he didn't like the feeling. He needed to distract himself, keep his mind from wandering too far.

He thought about his siblings, of sweet Rebekah, wild Kol, and serious Finn. What would they think of him killing Klaus? He wished he could have saved them, he wanted so badly to see them again.

He let out a long sigh, steeling himself for what he had to do. Klaus was no longer his brother, he had been twisted into a monster, and he had to be put down.

It was time, he could see the moon hanging high above him, it was time to end this. 

You watched Klaus squeeze the wolf's heart over the altar, the blood dripping into the fire, igniting it.

"Next, the vampire," he said, grinning.

You stood, frozen, watching him, as a wave of guilt crashed over you.

"Bring me Jenna, go on,"

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.

"No," you said in the smallest voice. 

You could hear Jenna and Elena, talking to each other, they were saying their goodbyes and it broke your heart.

Klaus turned, and walked over to you, his eyes were dark and cold, and his jaw was clenched.

"Are you offering yourself in her place then?" He growled, his hand coming up to grab your chin.

You didn't answer him, you were staring over his shoulder at Jenna and Elena.

"I'll take that as a yes,"

You let him drag you to the altar, and push you down onto the cold stone, he forced you to kneel. You didn't fight him, you had lived for many decades longer than sweet Jenna and Elena, the old should always give their lives for the young.

Klaus let out a hearty chuckle and kicked you over, his hand gripping your hair.

"I don't recall you being on the guest list," Klaus yelled, looking into the dark forest. 

You heard the sound of footsteps as someone approached, it was Stefan. His expression was calm, but his eyes were furious.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Salvatore?" Klaus asked, amused.

Stefan looked at you, a concerned look on his face.

"Well, I figured you could start by letting my sister go," Stefan said, his voice firm.

"Hmm," Klaus said, looking down at you. "I don't think I will, she's quite the little spitfire, and I rather enjoy her company,"

"Let her go, I'll take her place," Stefan offered, taking a step forward.

"That's quite noble of you," Klaus said, smiling. "But, I think I'd prefer my original plan. I rather appreciate the symmetry of three women...Three goddesses sacrificed at nature's altar."

He grabbed both you and Stefan and dragged you towards the rings of fire. Throwing you both down next to Elena and Jenna. 

"Quite the predicament. You know, it's funny, all this talk about preserving family, and here's Stefan, granting your wish," Klaus said to Elena, smiling.

Stefan and Elena were looking at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

"Oh, don't look so glum," Klaus said, looking between the two. "There's actually no choice,"

Klaus took a stake and plunged it into Stefan's spine, causing him to yell in pain, unable to move.

You and Elena both screamed, you got to your feet to strike Klaus, but he grabbed you by the throat, squeezing hard.

"Let them go," Elena pleaded, tears running down her cheeks. "I understand that I have to die, but they don't,"

Klaus ignored her and looked into your eyes, his hand tightening around your neck.

"Bring Jenna to the altar, or I'll kill Stefan," he growled, his fingers digging into your skin.

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes, you couldn't lose Stefan.

"Please," you whispered, your hands clawing at his.

He let you go, then walked back to the altar.

"Bring her, now," he ordered, pointing at the ring of fire surrounding Jenna.

You stood, walking slowly over to the fire, the ring disappeared and Jenna looked up at you with tear filled eyes. She looked so afraid, so helpless.

"I'm so sorry," you said, your voice breaking, as you helped her to her feet.

You walked her over to the altar, Klaus waiting patiently.

"Jenna, I'm so sorry," you whispered, your hand brushing the hair from her face.

She was sobbing, her body shaking, and you held her close, stroking her hair.

"Please Klaus, just use me instead, she's innocent," you begged, tears running down your face.

"You Salvatore's are so predictable," Klaus sighed, rolling his eyes.

Klaus walked over, and pulled Jenna from your arms, he threw her down onto the altar. Everything seemed to blur, you could hear Elena screaming, the chants of the witch, the cracking of the fire. You saw Stefan reaching out to Elena through the flames, and then, it was quiet.

Klaus plunged a stake into her heart, Elena's wails were all you could hear. Jenna's lifeless body was lying on the altar, her face frozen in fear. You had brought her to her slaughter. You had killed her.

"Such a wonderful assistant," Klaus cooed, he grabbed your chin, his bloody fingers digging into your skin. "Be a good girl and bring me the doppelganger,"

You looked into his cold eyes, his mouth twisted into a smirk.

"Now," he growled.

You nodded, then walked over to Elena, tears were running down her cheeks, but she put on a brave face as the last ring of fire disappeared.

"Elena," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, your whole body was shaking. "I'm so, so sorry,"

"Don't," she said, her voice shaky. "It's not your fault. It's nice to have a friend here at the end,"

She held your hand as you helped her walk over to Klaus. You looked at Stefan, he was struggling to free himself, his eyes filled with worry.

"Elena," Stefan called, his voice breaking.

"It's okay, Stefan," she said, her grip on your hand tightening. "I'm ready,"

You helped her up onto the altar, and Klaus looked down at her with hungry eyes.

"Thank you Elena," he said softly, pulling her against him and moving her hair away from her neck.

"Go to hell," she said, her voice strong.

He chuckled and sank his fangs into her neck.

Elena didn't fight, she let death take her, her grip loosening on your hand, as her last breath left her.

You were shaking, the sound of Klaus drinking from her filling the silence. You had lost two friends today, and the world was suddenly a lot emptier.

When the last bit of blood left her body, Klaus dropped her to the ground and the fire in the altar went out.

You knelt next to her, brushing her hair away from her face, then you looked back at Stefan who was writhing in pain, crying at the loss of Elena.

Klaus staggered a bit, the full moon peeking out from the trees. He groaned, and started to change, his bones cracking as he stumbled forward, his expression a mask of pure bliss.

"It's happening," he moaned, his eyes turned gold, and he was overcome with pleasure. "I can feel it,"

You couldn't stand this any long, all this pain and death. You needed it to end.

You moved down the steps towards him, grabbing a branch off a nearby tree, snapping it in half.

"Come on, sweetheart," he taunted, turning to look at you, his eyes shining. "I'm indestructible,"

"I don't care," you snarled, lunging for him. "You still feel pain,"

You charged at him, striking him across the face, your rage blinding you, making you miss his fist, as it collided with your stomach.

The blow threw you across the clearing, and you landed on your back, the air leaving your lungs, the branch now lodged in your side. 

You saw Damon come running out of the woods, he first looked to Elena, then to Stefan, but when he laid eyes on you, he ran to your side.

"No, no, no, no," he said, his eyes filled with panic, he pulled the wood from your side. "You're not supposed to be here,"

You could hear the concern in his voice, and you smiled up at him, cupping his face. He helped you to your feet, your wounds healing, then he pushed you behind him.

"Damon," you said softly, trying to stop him.

"Bonnie is here, it's okay, let me handle this," he said, his tone stern.

Klaus was standing there, laughing maniacally, a mad grin on his face, then his body began to shake and he fell to the ground.

Suddenly his laughter turned to screams, as Bonnie came striding out of the trees, chanting a spell, she raised her hand, causing Klaus to scream in agony. The fire returned to the altar and spread into the trees, her magic all around them as she channeled every ounce of power she possessed, bringing the hybrid to his knees.

Then she choked on her words, gasping for air, looking around for the source.

"Get the witch!" Stefan yelled, pointing to Klaus' witch, still standing at the altar, her hand outstretched.

Bonnie raised her hands, trying to focus her power, but she was struggling, and you could see the strain on her face.

The witch threw Bonnie into the air, knocking her out, her body hitting the ground.

Damon ran for the witch, and tackled her, his teeth sinking into her neck. He killed her instantly, her body going limp in his arms.

The fire disappeared, the flames extinguishing, the magic disappearing. A deadly quiet settling over everything.

Suddenly, you felt a hand in your hair, dragging you backwards, the pain making you scream.

"Elijah!" Klaus roared into the woods, "I know you are out there, show yourself!"

You saw Elijah walk out of the trees, and into the clearing, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were locked on yours.

Klaus's fingers dug into your scalp, and he pulled harder, forcing you to your knees between them.

"What a sight," Klaus mocked, grinning at Elijah.

"Hello, brother," Elijah said, his eyes still locked on yours.

"You've come to kill me?" Klaus said, chuckling. "How is that working out for you?"

He pulled you back to your feet, your whole body trembling.

"Actually, I've come to make you an offer," Elijah said, taking a step closer, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Oh," Klaus said, amused. "An offer, I wonder what that might be,"

"Spare them, and I will pledge my loyalty to you," Elijah said, his voice soft, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're lying," Klaus growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fangs grazing your skin. "You're only offering yourself, so I won't kill her. That's not true loyalty,"

You saw Damon lift Elena's body into his arms, carrying her to Stefan. Then he pulled the stake out of Stefan's back, allowing him to move again.

"Elijah," Stefan called, his voice shaky. "You need to finish this,"

"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "Klaus will kill her,"

Damon rushed to Bonnie's side, trying to wake her up, and Klaus laughed, his lips pressed against your ear.

"Run to your love, if you make it I'll let you live," he whispered, shoving you forward.

You stumbled, your legs barely able to support you, then you started running towards Elijah, tears streaming down your face.

You made it to him, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, he was murmuring soft words into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. And you finally felt safe again.

"Are you okay?" He asked, pulling away to look at you, his fingers brushing the hair from your face.

"Yes," you said softly, your hand gripping his jacket.

You were staring up at him, his brown eyes were warm and full of worry, and you had forgotten how much you missed him.

"Good," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours.

Your lips met his at the same time you felt something strange in your back. An odd pressure that made you gasp into his mouth.

You pulled away from Elijah, there was a strange look on his face, his mouth falling open, and he looked down at you, a look of pure terror in his eyes.

For the first time in centuries, you felt cold, the world was spinning around you. You knew what was happening, 

Your hand pressed against his chest, you could feel his heart beating against your palm. You looked up into his brown eyes one last time.

"Rule three, my love," you whispered, before your life faded away, and your body fell against him.

Elijah looked down at you, your skin rapidly turning gray, your eyes vacant. Then he looked up at Klaus, who held your heart in his hands.

"This is for betraying me," Klaus said, dropping the organ at his feet, the blood running down the stone steps.

Elijah stood there, his arms wrapped around your lifeless body, his whole world was crumbling.

He could hear Stefan and Damon screaming, but it sounded far away, the own beating of his heart drowning out the rest.

Klaus grabbed Elijah by the neck, forcing him to drop your body, and shoved him to the ground.

"Look at her, the way she's staring up at the stars, it's quite beautiful, isn't it?" Klaus mocked, as Elijah watched you, lifeless on the cold stone. "And it's all because of you,"

Elijah looked away, a tear falling down his cheek, his brother's words cutting into him.

"You're pathetic," Klaus hissed, his hands gripping Elijah's jacket, your blood staining the fabric. "To think you could beat me,"

Elijah closed his eyes, trying to block out his brother's words, but it was no use, his mind was replaying every moment with you. Knowing he would never taste your lips again, or hear your laugh. You would never fall asleep in his arms.

He looked over at Damon, who had rushed to your body. He was holding you, rocking you back and forth in his arms, with Stefan by his side, his face stained with tears, a look of anguish on his face.

Elijah's world was fading away, as he was overcome with rage and anguish, a darkness consuming him, and Klaus just kept talking, his voice becoming more and more distant. 

Then something within him snapped, a creature that was lurking underneath his skin came bursting through, a monster taking the place of the gentleman.

He turned his attention back to his brother, and Klaus froze, the fear clear in his eyes.

Damon watched as Elijah pushed Klaus backwards, causing him to fly across the clearing, skidding along the dirt, landing a few feet away.

Elijah walked in a slow, deliberate pace towards Klaus , his expression devoid of any emotion.

"You're right, Klaus," Elijah said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "We are not the same,"

Klaus tried to stand, but Elijah shoved him back down, he grabbed Klaus leg and twisted it until it snapped. Klaus howled in agony, and Elijah smiled, twisting the other leg, and his brother's screams were echoing through the night.

"You want to be a beast?" Elijah growled, pulling Klaus into the air by his neck, his hands wrapped around his throat. "Let me help you,"

Damon felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Bonnie was standing there, her eyes full of sorrow.

"Damon," she whispered, tears running down her face.

"Go, help Elijah," he said, his voice hollow. "I'll stay here with her,"

Bonnie nodded, she stood up, her body trembling. Stefan jumped to his feet to help her stay upright, and she began to chant once more. 

The altar burst into flames for a third time, illuminating Klaus and Elijah in a ring of fire as they struggled against each other.

"What is this?" Klaus yelled, pushing Elijah away, trying to fight the pain. "What have you done?"

"Something that should have been done centuries ago," Elijah growled, rushing towards his brother, knocking him down, pinning him to the dirt, his hand raised.

"In the name of our family, Niklaus...," Elijah said, plunging his hand into his brother's chest, curing his fingers around Klaus's heart. "In the name of her..."

"I didn't bury them at sea!" Klaus yelled, his hand trying to pry Elijah's away. "They are safe, I swear,"

Elijah looked at him, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"I can take you to them," Klaus pleaded, his hands gripping Elijah's wrist. “Their bodies are safe. If you kill me, you'll never find them,”

"Elijah, don't listen to him," Stefan yelled, walking towards them.

"Brother, please," Klaus begged. "She wouldn't want this, please,"

Your beautiful face flashed through Elijah's mind, and he looked back at Damon, who was kneeling there, tears in his eyes, clutching your body.

"You're wrong, Klaus," Elijah growled, his hand squeezing the organ in his grip. "She would want this,"

Then he tore Klaus's heart from his chest, and watched the life fade from his brother's eyes.

Klaus's body dropped to the ground, his heart still beating in Elijah's hand, and the flames died down, leaving the clearing in silence. 

Bonnie walked up to him, looking down at the flames. 

"Good," She said, her voice hoarse.

Elijah looked back at Stefan and Damon, they were kneeling next to your body, Stefan's hand caressing your cheek. 

Elijah rushed over to you, looking down at your peaceful face, you almost looked like you were sleeping.

Elijah brushed the hair from your face, his hands were shaking. He couldn't understand how something so beautiful could be snuffed out so easily.

"Don't touch her," Damon said, pulling you away from Elijah.

"You did this," Damon snapped, glaring at Elijah. "It's your fault she's dead,"

Elijah nodded and stepped away, Damon was right, it was his fault.

"Damon," Stefan said, reaching for his brother.

"No, he has to answer for this," Damon said, getting to his feet, your body in his arms.

"It's over Damon," Bonnie said softly, looking up at him. "It's over,"

Damon looked down at you, and tears started to stream down his cheeks. He was shaking, and Stefan reached for him, the two of them clinging to each other, your body between them.

"I think it's best you leave," Bonnie said, her eyes filled with sadness. "Please, go,"

Elijah nodded, his heart breaking as he looked down at your lifeless form, knowing this was his fault.

"Where will you go?" Stefan asked, as he wiped his eyes.

"I need to find my siblings," he said softly, looking away from the sight. "With Klaus dead, everyone he compelled will be free, I'll follow the clues they left behind,"

He looked back at you, and his heart shattered.

"Will you be okay?" Stefan asked, his hand on Elijah's shoulder.

"One day," he replied, turning to look at him, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," Stefan said softly.

Elijah gave them a small nod, then disappeared into the trees, heading far away from Mystic Falls. His heart forever bound to yours. 

~Epilogue

Time changes all things, this was something Damon had the basics of understanding, but nothing could prepare him for how it would affect him when he became human again.

He was an old man, something he never expected to experience, and yet there he was.

"Are you ready?" Elena asked, her hand on his arm.

"Always," he answered, his voice weak, but his smile was genuine.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her eyes still as bright and beautiful as the day he met her.

The walk to the Salvatore family crypt was slow, and the pain in his joints was unbearable. He hated getting old.

They entered the stone building, and Damon let go of Elena's arm, making his way over to your stone. He placed his hand on it, the smoothness soothing his calloused hand.

"Hi sis," he said, smiling down at the stone. "It's been a while, i've been so busy,"

He took a seat in the chair next to your grave, he had brought it decades ago. He was a man who liked his comfort, and he spent hours talking to you, catching you up on everything that had happened since the last time he was there.

"I have grandkids now! Can you believe it? They are the cutest, I even named a boy after you, well, the closest we could come, but, yeah," he said, a wide grin on his face.

Damon looked over at Elena, who was laying flowers at Stefan's grave. She was the only one left, and he was so grateful for her.

"I miss you and Stefan so much," Damon said softly. "But it won't be long now until I see you again,"

There was an awkward cough and Damon looked up to see a delivery boy standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

"I have a delivery for Miss Y/n Salvatore," he said, walking up to him, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"She's not exactly up for company," Damon said with a chuckle, gesturing to your stone.

"I know, this actually isn't my first time doing this," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Actually, the guy who use to deliver along this route said that he's been delivering here once a week for his entire fourty year career,"

Damon stood up slowly, his bones protesting the movement. He held his hand out and the boy handed him the flowers.

"Thanks, kid," Damon said, sitting back down, there was a note tucked in with the flowers.

The boy gave him a little wave before disappearing.

Elena came to sit next to him, her hand on his knee, she gave him a sad smile. "What does it say?"

Damon pulled out his glasses, and read it out loud, a tear rolling down his cheek.

For a thousand years, I had never known love, until you, and for a thousand more, I will wait for you. 

-Elijah

Rule one: When we are together, it will just be us, no one will know.

Rule two: No talk of business or family, don't get personal.

Rule three: When it's over, it's over.

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡~LOVE YOU GUYS

[harryslittlefreakk]

favourite crime 2

summary: harry whisks y/n away for a romantic weekend, but when feelings and questions turn into actions, their relationship only gets more complicated

warnings: smut (protected sex, oral f receiving, choking, spanking, cockwarming) angst, mentions of cheating, forbidden love, age gap

wordcount: 7.3k

a/n: thank you SO much for all the love and feedback on the first part 🙈 i can’t cope. SORRY this took so long to post. please let me know if you enjoyed this one!!! love you <3

(as always it’s not proofread yet so proceed with caution)

special mention to this series’ biggest fan, my homegirl @harryscumcloth who has helped me with this a million times AND may have beat me if this wasn’t posted sooner <3

favourite crime masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

You were nestled in the corner of a quiet pub, worlds away from anyone who might recognise you or Harry, yet still almost jumping out of your skin when anyone met your eye. The armchair you were curled up in was rugged and worn, the padding molded to the shape of every person that had been there before you. Although not the venue you’d pick for a steamy weekend break, the B&B was cozy and welcoming, and somehow it felt even more romantic than a five-star sex hotel. The gentle murmur of distant conversations and the clinking of glasses pulled your attention away from your drink, your eyes scanning across the room until they landed on Harry’s.

Warm bulbs cast a dim glow over his face, the knit of his brows subtle as he stared at you, though he was clearly somewhere else. He’d been going crazy since he last saw you, the memories of the way he made you fall apart at the forefront of his mind. It fuelled a fire within him that his own fears kept putting out. He was burning then frozen, burning then frozen, over and over again.

You were young and needed to date properly, not be someone’s secret. And he couldn’t be your secret, wouldn’t allow himself to darken you with a warped and forbidden affair. But he couldn’t think of anything but you, the way your walls gripped at his fingers, the look in your eyes as he kissed you, the pink of your cheeks after you came. He was totally infatuated with you, yet he knew this was as far as anything could go.

You watched him for a while, waiting for him to speak up. The drive had been mostly quiet, neither of you knowing exactly how to express what you were thinking. Until Bonnie Raitt’s I Cant Make You Love Me came on the radio and two hands shot out to change the station. Harry’s eyes met yours for a second as his fingers wrapped around your wrist, a soft chuckle slipping out. He guided your hand to his thigh, his touch hovering until your thumb started to caress the fabric of his trousers.

“No sad songs in my car,” he teased, eyes fixed on the road. “Put one of your playlists on.”

You picked up your phone, momentarily feeling stupid and young as you scrolled through your Spotify. You had no idea what music Harry liked, and you weren’t about to embarrass yourself by displaying a horrific taste in music. He’d somehow noticed your internal panic, rolling his eyes in jest. “Just put on your on repeat. I wanna see what music you like,” he grinned.

You scrolled through your Spotify with a furrowed brow, your indecisive fingers hovering over the screen. a smirk playing on his lips, watched her struggle. "We’ll be there before you pick something.”

"It's important, Harry. I have to find a playlist that doesn’t have High School Musical in."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "For real?”

"Yes! What's wrong with that?" you laughed, pulling your hand away from his leg.

"Well, for a start," Harry began, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “You’re not twelve.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn't help but giggle. "Hey, at least I have variety. You probably listen to dad rock and indie songs that you think will make girls fancy you.”

"Touché," he said, holding up a hand in surrender. "But at least I don’t have the music taste of a pre-teen.”

You rolled your eyes, finally settling on a song. As the first notes played, Harry groaned exaggeratedly. “Just because you have High School Musical in your playlist, doesn’t mean you should play it.”

You grinned, holding up your phone as a mock microphone. "Come on, admit it. You love it."

Harry shook his head, unable to keep a straight face. "You're impossible."

“You’re staring at me,” Harry said finally, pulling you from your daydream.

“You’ve been staring at me since we sat down,” you laughed. “I only looked just now.”

Harry smiled softly, patting his lap in a signal for you to cosy up to him. You stood up, quietly moving around the table, your eyes never leaving Harry.

He opened his arms as you approached, taking a hold of your hand as you settled onto his lap, curling up against him. Harry's arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, his thoughts momentarily forgotten. The comfort of the embrace was immediate, a perfect fit that seemed to melt away the distance that had separated you moments before.

You listened to the steady beat of his heart as Harry pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry,” you whispered, glancing down at your drink before meeting his gaze. His anguish was written all over his face, his confusion and indecisiveness seeping into the lines on his tanned skin. He leaned back into the seat, shifting you slightly so that he could see you clearly.

“What am I thinking, bunny?” he asked, his knuckles caressing your cheek.

“You’re thinking… that it’s for the best that nothing happens between us, but you still want it to.” You didn’t want to have the conversation so soon, but it was clearly troubling you both. Harry stayed silent, his dark eyes trained on your face as you fiddled with your straw.

“And you think this weekend should be the end of it,” you added, face hardening as you said it. He made a quiet murmur of agreement, brows knitting as if hearing the words out loud caused physical pain.

“I’ll follow your lead, H. If this is as far as we go, then I say we make it the best weekend ever,” you grinned, hoping that a twinkle cut through the sadness you could feel clouding your eyes.

Harry scanned your face for a second, searching for any sign of hesitance. But you were settled on your choice, your strong gaze giving him no indication of any deeper feelings. He pulled you closer to him after a moment, satisfied that you were on the same team.

To agree on the premature death of your relationship was a gut wrenching feeling, in the most peculiar way. You barely knew Harry outside of his time as your professor, and now you were wondering if he would end up as your one great love, the one big regret you’d have when you’re old and grey, or if he’d be the one who ruined you. You were almost certain it was the former, but it wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders as you settled into his lap, with one final scan around the pub in case it was suddenly full of people you knew. Harry’s hand pressed against your cheek, turning your head until you faced him. His thumb dragged across your bottom lip, his lips parted just enough for you to see the white of his teeth as he stared at you.

It was the closest you’d been since you found yourself on his lap at the lake. Friday was your study day, your only lecture taught by a different professor, and you’d lost track of time and missed your grading session with Harry. The last you’d seen of him was as he drove away after dropping you home, your panties still dripping from the orgasm he’d given you.

The heat radiating off the wall of muscle grazing your chest had you burning up, your cheeks flushing a bright red under his gaze.

You’d noticed that he always looked at you as if he were undressing you in his mind, but now that he’d seen your body, his eyes bored deeper. So deep that it was almost as if he thought he could get you naked with just one look. But with the way he was looking at you then, it could have been a real possibility.

Harry’s lips ghosted across yours, dragging across your cheek until they settled at your ear. “We should go and check out our room,” he whispered, his voice huskier than it had been previously. His free hand tightened around your waist as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine.

You slid off his lap, leaving your barely touched drink on the table as you headed for the stairs. Harry was close behind you the whole way, his hands finding your hips as you started to climb.

You barely made it through the door before he was pulling you to him, his core pressed tight to your back. You could feel everything, every dip and curve of muscle, every twitch of his cock. Harry’s ringed hands gripped and clawed at your clothes with an urgency that sent a chill through your body.

You let him push you towards the bed, turning to face him when your calves hit the frame. He slid a hand up your shirt without a second thought; the sting of his nails, the warmth of his touch, the drool wetting his bottom lip as he stared at you open-mouthed. It was enough to make your knees buckle beneath you, your body suddenly not strong enough to withstand the energy and desire that coursed through you.

In that moment you realised that Harry was addictive. There was an energy that flowed through him, a frantic buzz of electricity shooting through your bloodstream at the mere thought of him. His touch, his voice, his presence left you with a high that you never want to come down from - a dangerous game to play. You knew you couldn’t have him, and the idea of the fall terrified you. But while thoughts of him were clouding your mind, the what ifs and what thens, he was with you, in front of you, tugging your t-shirt over your head.

You pulled your maxi skirt down, stepping out of it and throwing it somewhere off to the side. Harry backed away from you, his hands falling limply to his sides as his gaze dropped down to your panties. It was his first time seeing you properly, and he wanted to take in everything. The curve of your hips, the freckle on your thigh, the scarring of what once was a belly button piercing. His eyes trailed higher, to the fullness of your breasts, the blush of your nipples, the way your hair rested on your shoulders.

“So fucking pretty, kitten,” he whispered, reaching out to pull you towards him. His hand gripped your wrist firmly as he closed the distance between you. With a swift, fluid motion, Harry pushed you against the wall, the cool surface a shock against the heat radiating from his body. The impact took your breath away, but before you could fully process the sensation, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding. The world around you blurred into insignificance, your whole being succumbing to the urgency and passion of Harry’s tongue as it moved against yours. His feet nudged between yours, his erection pressing into your parted thighs.

He pulled away after a minute, his fingers tangled in your hair. You were panting, gasping for breath as his lips moved down your neck. “Tell me what you need from me,” he murmured, nipping at the skin between hot kisses.

“Anything, everything,” you whispered, your voice breathy, a ghost of itself. Harry pulled away from you, straightening up so he could look you in the eye. His fingers trailed across your jawline, his normally mossy eyes now like coal as they moved over your face.

“Don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said, pulling his lower lip into his mouth as his hand roamed your skin, tracing the curves and contours of your hips and waistline.

“Give me everything, H,” you moaned, reaching out to touch him as the anticipation became too much to handle. His hand left your face, fingers tangling between yours as he blocked you from touching him, holding your hand at your side as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

You widened your legs for Harry without a second thought, grip tightening on his hand as he pressed wet kisses to your inner thighs.

“Been dreaming about this,” he drawled, his breath dancing lightly across the inside of your thigh. You were powerless, frozen in place by your need as he curled his fingertips around the lace of your thong, kisses and nips following as he tugged it down your thighs.

He let go of your hand as soon as you were exposed, moving to lift both of your feet with a gentle touch, one after the other. You kicked your panties somewhere across the room, pushing your shoulders back into the wall as his nose nudged into your thigh, opening you wider for him.

Your breath was caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears as you looked down at Harry, watching as he rested back on his heels and took in every part of you. He stared like he wanted to commit it to memory, like this was what he needed to see when he closed his eyes. He draped your leg over his shoulder, licking a hot stripe from your knee to your core.

And then suddenly, without any warning, his fingertips trailed through your entrance, collecting your slick. Your head fell back against the brick as he took his fingers between parted lips, his cheeks hollowing as he suckled on your juices. The whimper that you let out was obscene, he was obscene, worshipping your pussy as if it was everything to him.

When he was satisfied, Harry’s tongue traced the line that his fingers had made, licking into you so tenderly yet driven by desire. He was eating you like he’d been starved, like your pussy was the prey he’d been hunting. Your knees buckled as his nose grazed your clit, your weight shifting slightly as you dropped deeper onto his mouth. You could feel his smirk against your entrance, his moan vibrating through your core as you gasped and panted. But you were playing into his hands, giving him the reactions he so desperately wanted.

His deep groan fluttered through you as your hands twisted into his curls, the sharp sting of your nails just enough to spur him on. He repeated the same movement, over and over, his focus alternating between your entrance and your clit, his fingers wrapped around your thigh, tips digging in just enough that you expected bruises by the morning. The thought of it made you ache, the idea of his touch marking you, making you his, was enough to have your body trembling over him.

Your heel dug into Harry’s back, your motivation somewhere between steadying yourself and pulling him closer, your fingers tangling tighter into his curls. And when he looked up at you, his eyes locking onto your face as his lips moved towards your clit, his fingers sliding into your entrance, you were wrapped around his finger, indebted to him, owned by him from that moment onwards.

“Look at me,” he demanded, the soft touches of his lips against your nerves leaving you whining and rocking against his mouth. When you didn’t pull your head down fast enough, a splayed hand slammed against the curve of your ass. You cried out, tugging on his hair as your eyes met his, your eyelids heavy.

“Good girl,” Harry whispered, his soft lips wrapping back around your clit. Every muscle in your body seemed to tense at once, your entire body buzzing as he worked his fingers inside of you, his free hand rubbing at the mark his slap was sure to have left. It was too much, the pleasure defeating you as you started to fall apart, crying out his name as you came.

Harry waited a minute, kissing across your mound and your inner thighs, before slipping your leg from his shoulder. He got back to his feet slowly, his hands trailing the outside of your body as if he might need to catch you. Your heart was hammering in your throat, the flashes of sweetness and purity in Harry’s actions somehow making the moment even dirtier.

As soon as he was level with you again, confident that you can support yourself, his lips were back on yours. Hungrier, more desperate than before. He pulled you into him, his cock twitching as you bite down on his bottom lip, his hands splayed across your back. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so overwhelmed with desire and need, and you weren’t sure you ever would be again.

“Y’so fucking perfect,” Harry murmured against your mouth, turning you around and pushing you onto the bed. “Do you know how it’s been for me?” he asked, tugging his tshirt over his head. “Watching you in class, seeing you flounce around in those little skirts knowing what’s underneath. Knowing that pussy is waiting for me?”

You shook your head, moving your legs just slightly so he had a better view of you. “Such a tease,” he continued, voice so low you could barely make out his words. You were aching all over, physically pained by the lack of touch, your walls throbbing with impatience. He was taking too long, too many seconds wasted by fiddling with the button on his slacks.

“Please, Harry,” you whimpered, reaching out to help him undress. “You don’t like waiting?” he scoffed, finally stepping out of his trousers. The outline of his cock is all you can focus on, your lips parting as you stare at him. “I need you to tuck me,” you whined, massaging both of your breasts in an attempt to take the edge off.

He walked around the bed to the nightstand, eyes never leaving your body. “All fours,” he demanded, plucking a condom from his wallet.

You followed his orders, turning onto your knees and pressing your chest flat to the bed. His eyes bore into your core as he rolls the condom over his cock, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Fuck,” he whispered, coming up behind you and tracing the curve of your hips with splayed hands.

He pushes himself against your folds, his tip nudging against your clit with every move. You rock your hips back into him, whining until he lines himself up with your entrance.

Your head dropped to the mattress as he finally pushed himself into you, groaning as your walls pulsated around his width. He was big. Bigger than you’d imagined, bigger than you’d ever had. You could feel him everywhere. Your head dropped to the mattress as he finally pushed himself into you, groaning as your walls pulsated around his cock. He was big. Bigger than you’d imagined, bigger than you’d ever had. You could feel him everywhere, his tip pressed against your g-spot, his girth splitting you apart.

You gripped the bedsheets with shaky hands, your knuckles white as Harry pulls back.

“Perfect fucking cunt,” he drawled his fingertips digging into your waist. He glanced down, eyes dark as he watches his cock pushing back into you, the condom coated in your slick.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t focus on anything except moving your hips back to meet his thrusts. His cock was everywhere, filling every inch of you as his hands roamed your ass, each thrust more powerful than the last. “More, Harry, *please*,” you begged, rocking your hips into him so hard that the slap of skin on skin echoed around the room.

“Still need more, huh?” Harry cooed, his voice so low it was almost sinister. You nodded, whimpering as he slammed back into you.

He gathered your hair into a ponytail, twisting it around your fingers and tugging until your back was flush with his chest. His hand snaked around to your throat, squeezing lightly as he tilted your head back to look at him.

“Such a good little slut,” he drawled, watching as you trailed a hand down to your clit, knees weak as you rubbed circles against the sensitive nerves.

Harry leaned down a little, sinking his teeth into the flesh next to his hand. You couldn’t keep from crying out, writhing in his grasp. You’d never felt so much before. His cock fucking into you, his grip on your throat, the pull of your skin between his teeth, your fingers at your clit. It was like you were experiencing everything at its fullest, your senses heightened as your body went into overdrive. You didn’t have time to register your orgasm until you were in the thick of it, rolling your body against your palm, choking out a scream of Harry’s name.

He eased his grip on your throat, letting you drop down onto the mattress as you rode through your high. He pulled out of you, rolling onto the centre of the bed with a groan.

You climbed on top of him, lining his length up with your entrance and slipping him back inside of you. Your head rolled back on your shoulders as you felt him from a new angle, your hands resting against his tattooed torso.

“So fucking big, H,” you whined, circling your hips as if it would make any difference to the way you were bursting at the seams, stuffed full of his cock.

His hands found your hips as you started to inch yourself off him, your eyebrows furrowed as you try to get used to his size.

“Taking me so well, kitten,” Harry murmured, his eyes glazed over as he watches you ride him, your ass slapping against his groin as you start to bounce on him.

He cupped the back of your neck with one hand, pulling you closer to him. You planted your hands on either side of his head, grinning against his mouth as he kissed you, the taste of your slick still lingering on his tongue. Your body was practically aglow with energy, tingling from your head to your toes as he reached around to slam a hand against your ass. Each smack of his palm is punctuated with your loud cry, falling into time with the squelch of your juices to form an obscene chorus. It’s an entirely depraved, overwhelmingly dirty sound, especially for the early afternoon.

But as Harry gripped your hips and held you steady, fucking up into you with the power and force of a machine gun firing, you really don’t care at all about anything going on around you. In that moment, it’s you and Harry against the world. That’s the final thought you had before your walls clamped around his cock, whimpering into his mouth as your third orgasm of the day started to tear through your body. Harry’s thrusts got sloppier, his hips jolting as he came, your pussy milking him of all he had. Your hips rocked as he panted into your mouth, rubbing at the welts starting to rise on your skin.

You waited for his heart rate to lower before easing off of him, pulling the condom from his length as you kneeled beside him. Harry watched as you tied the end, dropping it haphazardly near the bin before flopping down next to him, chest still heaving.

You stared at the ceiling, stars still lingering in your vision. It wasn’t fair. Harry wasn’t the kind of man you were meant to have a fling with, he was the white picket fence and babies man. You knew that questioning him and begging would only make you look younger and sillier in his eyes, but the lingering vulnerability had your words slipping out before you could hold yourself back.

“I don’t want this weekend to be all we have,” you whispered, rolling over to look at Harry.

“I don’t either, princess,” he murmured, propping himself up on his elbow. His free hand pushed the stray hairs from your face, his touch never far from you. “But at this point in your life, do you really want to sneak around for a few years?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment, your bottom lip jutting out as you realised how impossible any kind of relationship would be.

“I don’t like it anymore than you do. But if I have you, I want to be able to show you off. You’re too good to be any man’s secret.”

You groaned, throwing your hands over your face. How could someone make you feel so wanted even as they let you down?

“You know I’m right,” Harry teased. You could almost hear the arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. You rolled onto your back, letting your arms drop limply at your sides. “No,” you grumbled.

“I am,” Harry continued, climbing over you and planting his hands on either side of your head. “Now are you gonna carry on sulking, or are we going to enjoy ourselves?”

The injustice melted away as you stared up at him, his toothy grin spreading as your face softened. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pushing your hips up until they met his core. “Show me what I’ll be missing,” you whispered, the tug on your heartstrings overpowered by your need.

—

The shower, desk, window seat, sink, every surface possible had all been used by the time the sun went down that evening. You were exhausted, every inch of your body throbbing. Harry could see it in the way your face screwed up just a little every time you moved, his hands never ceasing as they rubbed over your sides.

He glanced down at you, a soft smile curving his lips. You were somewhere between simply too content to open your eyes and full-on knocked out as he slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb the you. He padded softly across the room, kicking away discarded items of clothing as he made his way to the bathroom, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed.

The tub had barely started filling up before you appeared in the doorway, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“Hi, kitten,” Harry grinned, pulling you in for a hug.

You hated how easy and normal everything felt as you wrapped your arms around his back, your head falling between his pecs as if this was where you were meant to be.

“What you doing?”

“I was rough with you today, and I feel bad,” he shrugged. “And you seem like the kind of girl who likes a bath.”

“I’ve had a really nice day,” you sighed, your voice muffled against his t-shirt. You really had, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right that he’d fucked you the way you’d always dreamed of. It wasn’t right that he’d been the Troy to your Gabriella. It wasn’t right that he was taking the time to care for you. It wasn’t right that this was the way your story would end.

But you pushed those feelings down as Harry kissed the top of your head, his thumb rubbing circles on your lower back. “Good. Me too.”

You stepped away from him as he reached around to shut the water off. “What are you supposed to do while I have a bath?”

“I don’t know. Fall to my knees and cry until you’re back,” Harry shrugged, tangling his fingers with yours and pulling your arms around his neck.

You dodged his kiss with a laugh, shaking your head as you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t even think about asking me to join you. That is the smallest bathtub I’ve ever seen,” Harry teased.

“Then just stay here with me,” you ask, grinning when he agreed. He pulled your hands to his mouth, kissing each of your knuckles one by one.

“Just give me a minute,” he told you, letting go of you as he backed out of the bathroom.

You stepped into the bath when Harry left, listening out for a clue as to what he suddenly needed to do. All you heard was the main door closing behind him, and his quick steps down the hallway.

He padded back into the bathroom a few minutes later with a flute of champagne in either hand. “Nice touch,” you grinned, washing the bubbles from your hand as he passed one of the glasses to you with a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Can’t fault a man for trying,” Harry smiled, closing the toilet so he could sit next to you.

You pushed the bubbles around the surface of the bath for a second, watching as they popped and sparkled.

“Take your top off,” you giggled, turning to Harry with a bright grin.

He eyed you suspiciously as you glared back at him, your smile never faltering. “I’m naked, H. In the bath. What exactly are you expecting me to do right now?”

He shrugged, tugging his t-shirt over his head after a pause and balling it between his fists.

“I never knew you had so many tattoos. Didn’t really get to see them earlier,” you told him, eyes trailing across each one. You’d caught glimpses of them before, but you hadn’t expected his torso and arms to be littered in so much ink.

“Can’t really show them at work,” Harry shrugged, glancing down at his inked torso.

“I like the moth,” you mused, though your eyes were glued to the ferns poking out from the waistband of his pants. “Which one’s your favourite?”

He looked over himself, twisting his arms around so he could get a view of each tattoo. “These two, I think,” he answered finally, pointing to the A and G on his shoulders. “For my mum and sister.”

“You don’t have the right build for an English professor,” you stated, not entirely expecting to voice that aloud.

“No?” Harry laughed, his eyes back on you as you sipped your champagne. You shook your head, cheeks a little flushed as you realised you’d have to explain yourself.

“English professors are grey. Or beige. They’re old and withered and smell like dusty libraries,” you told him. “You’re…”

“Not like that, I hope,” Harry finished for you, his dimples carved deep into his cheeks as he grinned.

“Not at all. I think every single student has a crush on you,” you smirked. “Did you always want to be a teacher?”

Harry shook his head, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Didn’t even consider it until I was about to graduate.”

“I have no idea what I’m going to do after,” you confessed, nose crinkling as you thought about it. “None of the jobs available really appeal to me. I might have to marry rich.”

Harry let out a loud laugh as you giggled. “Don’t look at me. I have about £5 left to my name after paying my bills.”

You settled into an almost uncomfortable silence, both seemingly realising how close you’d gotten to inadvertently discussing marriage.

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked finally, cutting through any tension at risk of building up.

“A little,” you replied, tilting your head as you look at him.

“Want me to go get something?”

You nodded, setting your empty glass down as Harry leans over, planting a gentle kiss on your lips. Your eyes widened when he turned away, tugging his t-shirt back over his head.

It was all too domesticated, too natural. You were acting like an established couple, not two people who would go their separate ways after leaving the hotel room. But despite knowing that, every touch and every kiss had you melting into Harry a little more.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts and distract yourself before you concocted a reality in which you could live happily ever after with Harry by your side.

You decided to preoccupy yourself with getting cleaned up as soon as you heard the door swing shut, scrubbing your body and any leftover makeup from your face.

You stepped out the bath, wrapping yourself in the one clean towel neither of you had ruined, when your phone buzzed from the windowsill.

courtney: hows it going? you ok ? X

y/n: had more orgasms today than I’ve had in my life.

courtney: 🍆? 😉

y/n: tell you everything later. Love u xx

You threw your phone in the general direction of the bed, smirking to yourself. You knew you shouldn’t tell Courtney everything, but Harry must’ve known that was a given before he fucked you the way he had.

Your reflection caught your eye in the mirror as you hung the towel back up, the girl staring back at you glowing. You hated that this was the happiest you’d been in a long time, and you hated knowing that all of that would be stripped away not even twenty four hours later. But you’d already told yourself time and time again not to dwell on it now, promising yourself as much sadness as you needed the second you got home. You had a funny feeling that Illicit Affairs might be the only song you’d listen to for a few weeks.

It was only as you stared at yourself that you noticed the familiar discomfort that came with wearing your contacts for too long. Your eyes were begging for relief, but you felt suddenly shy about wearing your glasses in front of Harry. He’d definitely seen you wearing them before, but you could never be sure how much he’d noticed you before.

You sighed, blinking a few times before plucking both lenses from your eyes and dropping them into the bin.

It was only as you padded towards the bed that you realised that your ‘good’ glasses were in your bag. With your clean clothes. In the backseat of Harry’s car. You found your purse, pulling out your spare glasses with a groan. They were your huge, thick, never-wear-in-front-of-anyone-else, emergency pair. Definitely not the pair you wanted Harry to see you in.

You ran your fingers along the arm with a grumble, pushing them onto your nose. Any glasses were better than Harry coming back to find you naked and blind. Perching on the edge of the bed, you messaged Harry to remind him to bring the bags up when he got back to the room.

It was only a few minutes later that you heard his keycard in the door and he came to your rescue, with two pizza boxes balanced in his hand and both bags slung over his shoulders.

“This is a nice surprise,” he grinned, setting the pizzas and bags down next to you. You folded your arms over your chest, tilting your head away from him slightly.

“My clothes and good glasses are in my bag,” you mumbled, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“And why is that a bad thing?” he asked, kicking his shoes off before sitting down next to you. His palm found your cheek, turning your head back towards him. “You are naked and adorable. I wouldn’t have bothered with the bags if I’d known.”

“You are incredible. I have no idea what happened with your generation’s self esteem. Seriously,” Harry told you, holding your head up with two fingers under your chin.

He studied your face for a minute before pushing you down, knocking the pizzas out of the way with a muttered “oops.”

Harry angled himself slightly above you, cupping your face in both hands. He pressed tender kisses to your forehead, nose and the corners of your lips, before moving down your neck, kissing along your throat and collarbone.

His mouth continued down, his lips wrapping around your nipple as his hand found the other breast, giving them both some attention before swapping. And then he followed that same trail upwards, pausing to kiss and nibble at your ear.

“Think you’re the most beautiful girl in world,” he whispered, suckling on the skin just below your ear. “You are to me.”

You turned your head until your nose brushed against his, eyes soft as you stare back at him.

“What do you need, princess?” Harry asked, his voice low as you fumbled with his belt buckle.

“Just want to be close to you, H,” you whispered, clawing at his slacks with impatience.

He pushed your hair out of your eyes before standing to remove his clothes, stroking his cock a few times as it sprung out of his boxers. His eyes were on you as he touched himself, a sight you knew would flash behind your eyes every time you reached into your panties.

“Come here,” he told you, moving backwards on the bed until his back met the headboard.

You climbed onto his lap, any tension in your body melting away as you settled over his cock. “We used all the condoms earlier,” Harry whispered, wrapping a hand around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied. “Just needed to feel you.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, rubbing circles around the dimples on your lower back. You nodded, running your fingers through his curls. “Lift up a second, kitten,” he whispered, holding his free hand under the curve of your ass as you raised your hips.

He lined himself up with your entrance, biting down on his lower lip as he eased you back down, feeling you for the first time with no barrier.

You let out a moan you didn’t even know you’d been holding, the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up, exactly what you’d needed.

“Better now, princess?” Harry cooed, running his hand along your hips. You nodded, reaching for the pizza box. “Better.”

—

“I’m away for the next two days,” Harry told you, tangling his fingers with yours. “Got a teaching conference.”

“Do you think it’ll be hard to go back to normal?” you asked, totally disregarding what he’d said.

“Yes,” Harry answered, without so much as skipping a beat. “But I think it will only be so difficult because we have to keep seeing each other.”

You let out a dejected sigh, running your thumb across the back of his hand. “Yeah.”

“So you should spend the next two days practicing some self restraint,” Harry teased, looking over at you with that same, goofy, familiar grin.

“You are the serial toucher,” you laughed, tugging your hand away from his to swat at his chest.

“You just touched me.”

“I hit you.”

Harry snatched your hand back, chuckling before you settled into silence. Your gaze shifted to the view outside your window, familiar buildings and street signs coming into view as you drove closer to home. You weren’t ready to carry on with the life you had before Harry, his presence making everything somehow brighter.

“What’s your girlfriend doing tonight?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.

“Ask your roommate. She’s probably at yours,” you smirked.

“She’s always at mine,” Harry groaned. “Do you want to pick her up before I drop you home? I assume you’ll need to gossip,” he teased.

You shook your head softly, eyes dropping to where your hands sat intertwined. “No, it’s okay. I’ll see her tomorrow.”

You had a date with a book, a pint of ice cream and a potential cry lined up for when you got home. You weren’t ready to share your weekend with Courtney, needing to keep it sacred just a while longer. It was the only thing you had that was only yours and Harry’s for now.

—

You approached Harry’s office door, reaching for the doorknob with a tentative hand. You shouldn’t have been there and you knew it, but with a question from his earlier lecture and a burning desire to just see him, you pushed the door open.

You barely knew how to act around him after your weekend. He hadn’t met your eye in class, purposely avoiding your gaze when he passed you in the hall. You’d waited two days to speak to him, which was nothing. But it was two days of drafting and deleting nonsense texts, trying to come up with excuses to see Courtney at his in case he was there, pulling on his t-shirt before you touched yourself so it would feel like he was with you. You were completely, utterly addicted to him.

Harry’s eyes lit up the moment turned around and saw you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. The room had felt different without you, the monotony of grading and the cold glow of his laptop screen somehow duller and more lifeless than he remembered.

He gestured towards the empty seat, dropping the pile of books he was carrying onto the desk. “I won’t be long,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “Just had a question about today’s lecture.”

Harry leaned against the wooden edge of his desk, watching you as you flipped through your notes. He couldn’t help noticing how much warmth you brought into his office, how relieved he was to be alone with you.

“How are you?” he asked finally, cutting through the silence.

“M’okay. Just trying to actually focus on my degree now,” you smiled, heart pounding as you eased into conversation. “Decided to tutor a couple of other students.”

“Your professor would be proud,” Harry grinned, running a hand through his curls. You returned his smile, your notebook falling to your side as you edged just a few inches closer. The tension felt thick, too many unspoken words to fit into one short conversation. But Harry's gaze was soft as he looked over you, an intensity behind his eyes that made your heart pound against your ribcage. You could see the cogs turning in his head, an internal battle between desire and restraint.

You were thankful for the dimmed lights as a blush crept up your cheeks, stepping closer to Harry as if an invisible force pushed you towards him. Your fingertips brushed his knee, your lips parting slightly as you stared up at him.

You’d somehow expected him to change, to see him today and he wasn’t the same man you’d left behind. But he was no different than the man who’d fucked you, who’d cared for you so tenderly.

In a moment of weakness, Harry leaned in, his hand tangling into your hair as his lips found yours. It was gentle yet urgent, filled with all the emotions he had been holding back. You pulled him closer, your notes forgotten as they dropped to the floor, your fingers wrapping around his collar. For a few fleeting seconds, you were almost transported back in time, reality shifting into a parallel where this was natural and normal.

But Harry suddenly pulled away, his breath ragged, his expression conflicted. "We can't," he whispered, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "I'm sorry, kitten.”

Your heart ached at the loss of his touch, leaning forward to chase his kiss. But Harry’s hand fell from you as he took a step back, his eyes glued to the floor.

The silence that followed was heavy, loaded with everything left unsaid. Harry turned away, leaving you standing there, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your lips, and the cold realization of his withdrawal settling in.

Your heart plummeted as Harry's words echoed in your ears. You trailed a finger along your lower lip, trying to soothe the sting of rejection. You felt exposed, your mind racing with self-doubt, wondering if you had misread everything. If you had been foolish to think there was something more.

You backed away from Harry, tears of hurt and embarrassment stinging at your eyes. He was silent, frozen as he watched you walk away. The second the door closed behind you, his gaze dropped to your notes on the ground, his fist slamming into the desk behind him.

—

Harry slumped over the breakfast bar, his head in his hands. It wasn’t supposed to have gone this way, and he thought he knew better. He had decided to stay away from you, and he’d broken that promise to himself. He was supposed to keep his distance. You were nothing short of irresistible to him, and he knew the second he was alone with you he’d cross boundaries. And that was exactly what he’d done.

“Just talk to her,” Courtney told him from across the kitchen. Trapped in his inner turmoil, he hadn’t even noticed her in the room.

“Remember I’m still your professor,” Harry grumbled, eyes still focused on the grainy marble under him.

She shookher head, groaning as she swiped the untouched slice of toast from his plate. He lifted his head to look at her, hoping his expression would convey how little he wanted to get into a conversation about you. Courtney raised her eyebrows as she backed out of the room, eyes still on Harry. “You’re not the only one who’s in a strop, you know.”

“You’re also in my house,” he called after her, running a hand through his hair.

You hadn’t told Courtney about that afternoon yet. Harry knew Courtney was feisty before she became his second roommate, and he was certain that she’d make no attempt to hide her feelings towards him if she knew how he’d rejected you. Either you were too embarrassed to even mention it, or there was still a chance for Harry to turn things around. He may have been a man in a pit of despair, but he chose to take it as a sign.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his keys and left. He didn’t even know what his plan was, or what he was signing himself up for by going to see you. But twenty minutes later he was pulling up outside your apartment, hoping you’d be home and praying you would be willing to hear him out.

Your windows were open and a light was on, so he was over the first hurdle.

He was almost at your doorstep when he heard it. The little uncertain giggles that exploded into laughter. It was his favourite sound, and until then, he’d foolishly assumed it was reserved for him. But there was someone else in your flat, someone else making you laugh the way he did.

He backed away from the door, leaning up against his car to try and get a glimpse of who was inside. He couldn’t see anyone, even craning his neck and stretching onto his tiptoes was hopeless. He turned around, clenching his fists as his jaw tightened. He was about to get back into his car when he heard the second voice, a husky male voice. He couldn’t hear what he said, but he didn’t need to. There was another man in your room, another man making you laugh the way he had. And you were happy. Not backing away from him in tears, with hurt and embarrassment written all over your face.

This wasn’t him. He wasn’t the man who got cheated on, but you weren’t cheating on him. He’d ended it. You weren’t his, and you had every right to be with someone else. But that didn’t make it feel any better.

He should never have put you in a position where you could be anyone else’s. His mind was racing, thoughts of you tangled up in your bedsheets with him, that voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear, hands that didn’t belong to him trailing over the bruises Harry had left on your skin.

“Fuck,” he shouted, his fist flying out to make contact with his wing mirror. He should have just fucking kissed you properly. He should’ve found a way to make it work, but he hadn’t. He was a coward, pushing you into the arms of another man just so he could protect his fucking reputation.

He was half prepared to march back to your door, to charge in and reclaim what he’d lost. But he knew he wasn’t acting or thinking like someone you’d want around, so he got back into his car and left, heading for nowhere.

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[asbealthgn]

wrote this goofy thing as an expansion of this post

It’s very surprising when the door to Eddie’s trailer opens and Eddie is standing there with flowers.

It’s even more surprising when he says, “Happy one month!” with a big grin.

Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and the flowers—wildflowers by the look of them, probably picked around the edges of the trailer park. “Uh, one month of what?”

Eddie gives him an uncertain smile like he’s not sure if Steve’s being serious or not. “Of our relationship,” he says, the last syllable tilting up almost like a question.

Huh. Kind of weird, but at the start of summer Steve and Robin had an ice cream party to celebrate the year anniversary of when they started at Scoops together. So it’s not like this is completely unheard of. Except—

“You and I have been friends for longer than a month,” Steve says, “It’s been like—” he tries to count the months since spring break in his head “—at least four? Unless you don’t count when you were unconscious in the hospital, but that was only a couple weeks, so—”

“I mean one month of our relationship,” Eddie says, putting emphasis on the word. And now his eyebrows are drawn together. Face concerned. And Steve is clearly missing something here.

Did something significant happen a month ago? Some moment where they moved from friends to best friends or something? It was probably about a month or so ago the first time Steve spent the night at Eddie’s trailer, but that wasn’t a huge deal. Steve has spent the night at the Byers’ house before and it’s not like he and Jonathan are breaking out the balloons to commemorate it. 

Steve feels guilty, because clearly there’s something that Eddie thinks he should know that he doesn’t. He doesn’t like this nervous look on Eddie’s face. Steve tries to think like Nancy, tries to put the clues together. But he’s not Nancy. So he’s lost. 

“I’m sorry, dude,” Steve says, “I don’t get what you mean.”

Eddie deflates.

“I know we haven’t necessarily defined it.” His voice is wavering, eyes getting watery. Shit shit shit, what did Steve do? This is so completely out of nowhere and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it. “But I didn’t realize it was actually that insignificant to you.”

Steve shoots his arm out to stop Eddie from closing the door on him. He needs to figure out what’s going on so he can make it right, and that’s not gonna happen if Eddie shuts him out. “Eds, seriously, you’re gonna have to fill me in,” he says, “‘Cause I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asks, anger over taking the sadness in his voice, “You’re gonna act like you don’t know?”

“I don’t!” Steve nearly shouts, desperate. “Please, man, I’m not trying to piss you off here. Whatever it is, I wanna make it right. You just have to tell me what you mean.”

“You and I,” Eddie says. Looking at him like it should be obvious. When it’s so, so not. It makes Steve want to scream. “We’re—I thought we were together.”

“Together? Like…together how?”

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look this pissed off. “Use your goddamned brain, Harrington,” he spits, “Like together.”

Oh. Okay. That’s…something. It’s not that Steve would necessarily be opposed, or even that he hasn’t thought of it. It’s just not true. They’re not together. And he’s not sure why Eddie thinks they are. Yeah, they’re close, but it’s not like they’re closer than Steve and Robin. It’s not like they’re closer than Steve was to Tommy back in the day. He and Eddie haven’t done anything that feels outside the realm of friendship to him. And he definitely didn’t realize that Eddie saw it any differently.

“Um,” Steve says, aware that he’s standing like an idiot on Eddie’s doorstep and needs to answer. “Why?”

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, making as if to close the door again. Steve barely catches it in time. It makes Eddie glare at him. “There’s no way you’re being serious,” he says.

Keeping one hand on the door, Steve throws up the other one in a gesture he stole from Robin. “I really am,” he says, “You know what the kids say. I’m an idiot. You really have to lay things out for me.”

That at least makes Eddie soften a few degrees. “You’re not an idiot, Steve,” he says, “You’re just—oblivious, apparently.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Eddie sighs. “Just come in. We can talk about it.” He steps back and lets Steve come inside. The flowers are still clutched in Eddie’s hand, starting to wilt. Eddie sets them on the table before joining Steve on the couch. 

“A month ago is when you stayed over for the first time,” Eddie says. Steve nods. “And you kissed me.” Steve nods again. Eddie lifts his eyebrows significantly. “You’re not seeing the connection?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, I guess there’s other ways you could construe that,” he says, “But I thought it was, like, a friend kiss. A goodnight kiss.”

“A friend kiss,” Eddie says flatly. “You kiss a lot of your friends?”

“Sure,” Steve says, “Well, Robin prefers forehead kisses and Jonathan’s more of a hug guy, but I used to kiss Tommy and Carol all the time.”

Disbelief is the main emotion on Eddie’s face. And a whole lot of other ones that Steve can’t quite parse out. “So—everything we’ve done,” Eddie says, slowly, like he’s trying to come to terms with it. “It’s all just…been normal friend shit to you?”

Steve thinks back over the last month, trying to think if anything stands out in his head as non-platonic. Maybe there’s been a time or two when he was kissing Eddie or cuddling up to him in bed or sitting on his lap during D&D where Steve’s felt a sort of stirring deep in his belly. But he figured that was one-sided. His body’s reaction to whatever was happening and not a manifestation of, like, feelings or something. After all, the same thing used to happen with Tommy when they’d do similar stuff. And clearly they were just friends.

After a full twenty seconds of Steve not answering, Eddie drops his head in his hands. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head. “This—you—the other day. You slept over. We made out. You—you took my fucking shirt off, Steve.”

Yeah, that did happen. And Steve doesn’t have a great explanation for it. “I don’t know,” he says, “It was the heat of the moment or whatever.”

“The heat of the moment,” Eddie repeats, and Steve can’t tell if he’s on the verge of tears or the verge of laughing. Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch and leans toward Steve. “Can you honestly say that you’re not attracted to me at all?”

Annoyingly, Steve can feel his face start to heat. “I never said that,” he mutters.

For the first time, Eddie looks triumphant. “So you are attracted to me?”

“Yeah, man,” Steve says, squirming uncomfortably. Of course he’s attracted to Eddie. What’s not to be attracted to? He’s smart, funny, hot, good with the kids, good on the guitar, good at kissing. Helped save the world. “You’re, like, it for me. I definitely think about you that way. I just didn’t think you thought about me that way.”

Eddie laughs, the sound containing more disbelief than humor, but still overall a good thing. “I can’t believe the guy who’s been sharing my bed for the past month didn’t think I was into him.”

“Hey, you’re not the only person whose bed I’ve shared.” Shit, that was a bad way to put it. “Platonically.”

Shaking his head, Eddie laughs again. “Clearly, your idea of platonic does not line up with mine,” he says. “But you mean it? You’re into me?”

“Yeah, Eds,” Steve says, “I’m into you.”

“So, does that mean you’d want to be my boyfriend?”

“Apparently I already have been for the past month,” Steve says, grinning.

Eddie grins back. “Doesn’t count if you didn’t know.”

“Then we can count from today,” Steve says, “Starting now, I’m your boyfriend.”

He hasn’t finished saying the last word before Eddie is surging forward and taking Steve’s face in his hands. He shifts onto Steve’s lap, kissing him deeply. 

And it doesn’t feel platonic at all.

[maikissed]

post euro Jude Bellingham story part 2 yall got me so hyped up I had to write a part two to it, ah and I like it, hope you guys like it too! warnings: well, just a bit of sexy times and as always, sorry for typos

He didn’t remember the last time he experienced morning’s silence and stillness. What he could remember is how every morning started when he was a boy. His mother waking him up, layers of sheets between his legs, gentle morning air hitting his senses and birds chirping outside the windows, slow eye blinks. He woke up on his own today and he could hear the birds. When was the last time he heard birds chirping? And when was the last time he slept so well?

A gentle movement on his side and he remembered he wasn’t alone. When he turned to his right his eyes met with the sight of her face, few strands of hair falling down her cheek and nose. Soft sounds of breathing, her chest rising and falling peacefully. The view astounded him for a second, stupefied even. Suddenly something so obvious showed it’s way to the surface. Suddenly he remembered it was all he wanted this whole time.

He fixed her hair, pulling them away from her face so it wouldn’t bother her. She stirred a little, her lips ajar, she sighed and he could hear his name leaving her lips. For a second he though she woke up, but then some more incoherent words followed and he realised she was still asleep. She dreamed of him, and he wondered if she could see him in her dreams the way he saw her in his.

The clock on his phone showed it was 7am. Twelve hours of sleep was quite a lot, but he felt much better. He considered waking her up, because he knew she suffered the worst migraines when she slept more than nine hours, yet she seemed to be in way too deep slumber. He chose not to.

Quietly he headed to take a shower and then went downstairs in a need of water.

“Morning, did you sleep well?” his mother’s voice startled him at first and he stopped in his tracks in the direction of the water jug.

A mysterious smile on her face as she looked at him, some papers in her hands, some more laid out on the counter in front of her.

“Morning. Yes I did” he nodded, observant and focused on his mother’s expression.

“Is she awake?” her attention back on the document in her hold.

“No”

“I guess you were both in need of a good rest”

“Why are you smiling like that?” he could not let that slip.

“Like what?” her face jerked back up to look at him.

“It’s that look and that smile that says that you know something I don’t”

She chuckled. A few seconds of silence.

“Do you need privacy?” she asked all of a sudden.

“Sorry?”

That smile back up on her face.

“Your dad and Jobe are on the training. I can make you both some breakfast or I can leave” her voice gentle when she started collecting the papers and putting it into a tidy stack.

“What are you insinuating?” his eyes narrowed when she walked up to him.

“You always make the right choices, darling. Time to make this one as well, it’s been too long” she pecked his cheek lovingly before disappearing into the hall.

-

You blinked a few times as your eyes begun to accustom to the very bright surroundings. You were in your clothes, in a big bed, not very familiar at first. Your head felt slightly heavy, you could tell your face was a bit swollen. What time was it? You turned your head in an instinct and moaned hiding your face in your hands.

“Were you watching me sleep, Bellingham?”

He chuckled in response.

“You know, you developed a new sleeping face. Never seen this one” you could feel him move closer to you.

“You’re a creep!” you whined still covering yourself.

“Couldn’t help myself. It’s cute”

You took a peak through your fingers to look at him. Gentle smile on his face, he looked healthier. And his torso was bare. Right.

“What time is it?”

“Eight”

“In the morning?!” you sat up and regretted it in an instant as dizziness hit you, your eyes filled with many black spots.

You turned to look back at him, head supported on his hand as he laid down.

“Yes, you slept for thirteen hours. You won’t die”

You suddenly started to feel giddy. What a lovely morning sight.

“You’re indecent” you acknowledged with an assertive look on your face “Put some shirt on”

“Does it bother you?” he laughed changing his position to lay back down, his hands behind his head.

“Are you flexing your muscles for me?” you jested, fighting the smirk that tried to sneak up to your lips.

“I can tell you’re absolutely enjoying it”

After his words your gaze trailed lower, down his stomach and you turned your head abruptly.

“That’s it, I’m leaving this bed. I’m in desperate need of a shower”

“Don’t go yet” he called after you as you begun to search for your bag “You can use mine. Let’s eat breakfast together”

You smiled at the proposition, feeling morose at the thought of parting with your friend so soon. So you agreed.

-

“You have some jam on your chin, clumsy” you frowned at his comment, his big eyes glowing with amusement as he watched you trying to wipe it off.

“Not there” he tutted, using his thumb to do the job for you.

This simple act, this gentle touch warmed your heart ever so greatly, you could feel your cheeks heating up and you quickly looked down at the remains of your food, so he would not notice them redden. Moment like this made a fast turn towards a more melancholic feeling, because you’ve missed him terribly every single day. Both of you chose so different directions in your lives, you could not do much about the fact that you were falling apart. And you were grown ups now, facing serious obstacles that would not allow you to constantly act so openly and freely like right now. You wondered if he had someone. This element often changed, so you found it difficult to keep track.

You stood up grabbing your plates and mugs to wash them.

“Is everything okay, y/n?” he called after you and you shuddered, trying to focus on the task.

“Yes, why?” your voice stable.

“You seem down” without turning his way you could tell he followed you, his voice much closer.

You will not bring up this subject. You will let things be.

But you stood stiff, a mug in your hand and you didn’t move in the slightest, paralyzed by analysing everything in your head so thoroughly. Taking a breath you placed the mug in the sink and put your palms on the counter in front of you. You heart was too heavy to remain silent on the matter. And that kiss from last night that filled you with undying happiness at first, now started playing with your stability.

He came up to you, his palms resting on top of yours, playing with your fingers. He was close, you could not feel his body but you felt the warmness of it.

“I don’t know where to put you in my mind and heart, Jude” you whispered, staring at the windows in front of you, but the view was blurred.

He placed his head on your shoulder, much closer now, you could feel his chest pressed against your shoulder blades. You closed your eyes.

“I wanted to kidnap you when you decided to leave to Japan” a soft whisper in your ear “I wanted to lock you up in my house to make it impossible for you to leave. It’s selfish but I still think of it to this day. Every time we see each other, I want to tie you up and keep you with me” one of his hands reached up to gather your hair, moving it away from your neck and face. You bent your head to the side and let him “How is that fair, it’s the life you dreamed about, doing what you love and here I was, also determined to reach my goals but so selfish I wanted to crush yours” he murmured into your skin, his lips now lower, under your ear “I started to plan and analyse a lot in my head, started thinking: what can I provide for you that would made you stay with me?” soft words breathed against your skin, you shivered wondering if he considered to kiss you next. You wanted him to and anticipated, your skin warm and body desperate. You were so desperate for his touch, other men could never surpass it.

But he reached for your hands to hold it up, wrapping both of your arms around you. He hugged you from behind, you nestled into him.

“Took me some time but I have come to the conclusion that we don’t have to part with our own lives to share them” the sentence made you open your eyes, you turned your head to look up at him. His gaze soft and tender, a smirk slowly appearing on his face, probably at the sight of your big round eyes “Would you like for us to share them, share all of it, no exceptions?”

You frowned, turning in his arms to face him. A race of thoughts rumbling in your brain. No lie to it - it scared you a bit.

“But it’s such a big distance…”

His hands reached for your face to hold it up for him, the expression on his face calm but determined. You admired him, admired the man he became.

“At some point there will be no distance, we have all the time in the world” he smiled reassuringly and you focused on the feeling of his fingers grazing your skin “And I will retire around 40” he added with a shrug of his shoulders, making you chuckle “But before that, your programme in Tokio is in for about three more years if I remember well, I will respect it if you decide to stay but if not, you can join me” the honesty and plea visible in his eyes made your heart melt, the sensation almost reaching your eyes but you blinked keeping your vision clear. You wanted to keep looking at him, drinking the sight of him, he was so beautiful.

Lost for words you nodded, took a breath and nestled your cheek into his hand. You heart lighter, your head quieter.

“I want that very much” you whispered “But let’s take it slow, okay?” you asked while his thumb slid down your throat, caressing the skin there, his face close to yours.

He nodded in response, his lips ajar, lids heavier as he leaned into you. You could tell he was as desperate as you’ve been all this time. He closed the final distance between you and the kiss was gentle, freeing, considerate. You let him lead you, your senses drinking only him, his touch and his closeness.

“I kissed you last night” he murmured against your lips before connecting you again.

“Yes” you breathed pulling away but he was quick to kiss you back.

The contact heating up, his movements speeding up, turning more determined. It excited you to the point of breakage, your hands grasping at him more certainly, your lips matching the intensity. You wanted to take it slow, take gentle steps to not ruin it all on the start. But you were losing the common sense. His hands slowly travelled down your body, resting on your hips, after a second he added more strength to his grasp, unconsciously you pressed into him and your whole body answered with an electric shock. Placing your hand on his chest you pushed him gently away from you. He blinked slowly, his eyes wild and dark, his breathing rapid. Your legs weak at the sight. You didn’t have enough strength to say no to him. He just have to say a word. But he smirked, took a few steps back and with a big breath rested down on the chair standing near the kitchen island.

“You look so sexy in my clothes” he murmured eyeing you down and you snorted under your breath, remembering that you were clad in his shorts and t-shirt, way too big for you.

You considered your look ridiculous.

“But I really want to take them off right now”

His loose posture, long legs, broad shoulders, fiery gaze in those bed eyes and his words made you tremble where you stood. You wanted to ravish him, jump on him and ride him right here and right now, sat on this chair. Your hands on his shoulders, nails dug into the skin there, his big hands on your ass, guiding you with a rhythm he preferred, you screaming out as he filled you. Breath hitched in your throat and you shifted from one foot to the other because there was an unyielding pressure torturing you, making every part of your body pulsing with desire.

“Slow” you breathed, reminding yourself, warning him, and he smiled cheekily, a spark in his eyes.

He was dangerous.

“I can fuck you slow”

“Jude” you warned again.

Why you wanted to keep on fighting it? You’ve already lost.

Taking a step you tried to run from him but to no avail, he reached for you and easily pulled you into his lap making you straddle him. You squeaked in surprise.

“What if someone walks in?!” you panicked.

“We’re alone” after pulling you closer to him.

“What if they come back?” your voice sharp, despite the fact that all your insides shook with arousement.

“They won’t” he kept looking at you intensively.

You rolled your eyes at his ignorance, you were truly worried sick someone might catch you in such position.

“Rude. I’m going to make your eyes roll while I have my way with you”

You mouth opened in shock, he was so straightforward, you did not expect it. You let out a little laugh.

“What makes you think you will be that good?” and almost immediately regretted that question.

His hips shot up to put more pressure to where you were connected and you gasped when your body instantly reacted at the friction. Your hands grasping his shoulders. Your cheeks quickly heating up.

“You’re already almost there, aren’t you?” his voice much deeper now.

You fumed at his perkiness because you wanted to prove him different, wanted to dominate him as much, but you had to admit that the way he toyed with you was exciting. If he keeps his game, he’ll surely ruin you.

“Are you?” you taunted, rolling your hips back and forward, making you both feel the power of this sensation.

He groaned, his hold on your hips strong and you breathed repeating the motion. Oh, for the love of God, he looked divine with his heavy lids closing on it’s own, his full lips apart, focused on your movements. You leaned into him, his head resting on the back of the chair, facing the ceiling, your hands outstretched behind him. You kissed him, ferociously, using your tongue and he jerked under you, his hands wandering over your back and nape.

“Oh, you are” you purred quietly with a victorious smile when you pulled back, his lips searching for yours.

His head still thrown back when he chuckled breathlessly, making you bite your lip at the sexiness of it. Your head dizzy at the sound of his throaty laugh. If you don’t stop now, there will be a mess.

“I have to reconsider the idea of tying you down so you won’t run away. Because I am going to have you today and I don’t think it will be enough for me” he declared pressing you hard onto him, the sharp pull making you whine.

[jakeotters]

Next Time (scott miller x reader) part II - 18+ MDNI

warnings: sexual tension, swearing, scott being scott, not enemies but not friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol/drinking, kissing, eventual smut (soon i promise)

a/n: so sorry it took me so long to get back to this!! i’ve been so busy with personal stuff. just bear with me as i get caught up :)

my inbox is open for requests! rules for requests are on my pinned post :)

part one | part three (coming soon)

The few days after Scott had paid you his midnight visit to your motel room were awkward. More awkward than usual. You didn’t think the tension between the two of you could get any worse, but it did.

Scott seemed to be in a weird mood when he was around you. He’d practically stopped talking to you altogether, unless it was to communicate during a chase. The silences lasted forever and were more uncomfortable than they’d ever been. You hated to admit that you missed his snarky comments.

You tried to ask him what was wrong but you’d always be met with silence. You gave up.

Tonight, though, you hoped things would be different. Javi had invited some of the crew out for drinks, including you and Scott.

Since you were on the road, you didn’t have anything super nice to wear. You did what you could, putting on a simple t-shirt and jeans. This wasn’t your first time going out with the crew, but there was something in the back of the mind that you couldn’t quite figure out.

Your phone dinged and you picked it up, a text from Javi appearing on the screen.

Be ready in 5. I’ll meet you downstairs.

You typed out a response and finished getting ready. You made your way downstairs, butterflies starting to twirl in your stomach.

Javi was waiting, smiling when he saw you.

“Hey, ready to head out?”

You smiled back at him.

“Yeah, where’s the rest of the guys?”

“They’ll meet us there.”

You walked with Javi to his Storm Par truck. You opened the passenger side door and climbed in. It’d been a while since you’d been in here. It was nice to be in a vehicle other than the SUV you shared with Scott. Javi climbed into the driver’s side, starting the truck.

“Have you noticed something up with Scott?”

Javi inquired.

You were surprised, you didn’t think anyone else had noticed Scott’s weird mood.

“Yeah.”

You swallowed.

“What’s going on?”

Javi looked at you.

“Not sure. He’s been like that for a few days.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, you didn’t want to mention that Scott had given you shit after the chase you were wrong about, or the fact that he’d come to your door in the middle of the night.

Javi shrugged but didn’t push the conversation. He pulled into the parking lot of a small bar, parking next to Scott’s SUV. The butterflies in your stomach intensified. You got out of the truck and took a deep breath, trying to gather yourself before going inside.

—

Javi and the rest of the crew had left the table you and Scott were at. They were off somewhere playing pool and darts, typical bar stuff that you weren’t interested in. Scott sat across from you. He hadn’t talked to you much, other than a few acknowledgements.

The alcohol had melted away your nervousness. So you asked him again.

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?”

You broke the uncomfortable silence.

Scott looked at you, those menacing blue eyes fixed into yours. His hair was brushed nicely, dark curls framing his face perfectly. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans. You were drunk but you had to admit that he looked good, really good.

“Scott. I know something is up. Talk to me.”

You pushed him. You were tired of his silence.

His jaw clenched, something in his eyes darkened as he looked at you. He studied you, eyes moving over you like he was looking for something.

“Scott.”

You wanted to beg, plead for a response from him. But you kept your composure.

Scott stood up, you weren’t sure what he was doing until he grabbed your arm, making you stand up.

“What-”

He looked around to make sure none of the others were paying attention before he pulled you with him into a bathroom. Scott slammed the door behind the two of you, making sure it was locked before he turned to face you.

“What the hell, Scott?”

You snapped at him, even though you weren’t exactly sure why you were mad.

“Shut up.”

He grabbed your face. He wasn’t rough with his touch, but it was enough to make you be quiet.

“You wanna know what’s wrong with me? Hm?”

He spit the words out. You looked at him. His eyes were dark, sky blue covered by a dark cloud. His eyes matched the skies that you loved chasing.

“It’s you. You. I went to your room that night wanting you to let me in. I can’t get you out of my head. Since I met you, since Javi put you with me… fuck, you’re intoxicating.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Scott’s lips met yours before you could. He kissed you rough, deep; full of heat and desire. Scott pushed you up against the wall behind you, his body so close to yours you could feel his warmth.

You kissed him back, meeting his desire with your own. You realized what was in the back of your mind for so long, it was him. You longed for him. You snapped out of your thoughts when Scott’s lips met your neck, gently sucking on the areas that made your knees weak. Your skin was flushed and you felt so warm.

“Scott..”

“Shhh.”

Scott mumbled against your skin. His voice was deep, filled with lust. You loved it.

Scott pulled away from you, and suddenly his warmth was gone. You whined instinctively, wanting his touch.

“Not here.”

Scott collected himself, his face flushed and lips swollen from kissing you.

He turned to open the door, but you stopped him.

“Scott, come to my room tonight. I’ll let you in.”

Scott smirked at you, opening the door.

“I’ll take you back to the motel. Javi’s hammered.”

Scott walked out. You waited a few minutes before leaving the bathroom, trying to find Javi. You found him at the bar, laughing with some of the guys from the crew.

“Javi-”

“Heyyyy, y/n! Where’ve you been?”

Javi laughed, his words slurred.

“Scott’s gonna take me back to the motel. Text me if you need me to come get you.”

Javi looked at you, but it was almost as though he didn’t process anything you’d said. He took a moment to respond.

“Right on! Thank him for me.”

Javi smiled and went back to talking with the guys. You shook your head as you walked away. Scott was waiting for you by the door.

“So, you’ll let me in, huh?”

Scott held the door open for you as you walked out.

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

You winked at him, getting in the passenger seat of the familiar SUV.

—

@rossylightwood asked to be tagged <3

[tzuberry]

(cute) things zerobaseone maknae line do as your boyfriend ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, established relationship, bulletpoint

cw none ⠀⠀⠀wc 410, 418, 505, 462 (1,795 overall)⠀⠀⠀reading time 7 minutes

note HELLOOOO i havent posted a fic since july 15th and that was my first fic ever on this account omg... thank u for all the notes on my other post LIKE i didnt expect so much + thank you for 90 followers!! also i might start writing for tiot and evnne if i have time 🫡 likes are reblogs are appreciated if u can 💟

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ricky 리키

lets you play with his hair

i think ricky is honestly extremely particular with his hair, and especially who gets to touch it

his hair isn’t very visibly damaged despite getting it dyed frequently / basically not having black hair since he was probably fifteen years old (and he’s nineteen now, so that says something) so he has to take good care of it not to have it fried off

there were stories about him during bopeul where they said they always saw him fully ready with perfectly styled hair whenever he left his room, too

like i’m not even kidding he has to care for his hair a whole lot or by now he could’ve been bald i’m sorry

when his friends—mainly gyuvin—try to play with his hair or comb their fingers through it, ricky allows it but is not that pleased because he put effort into styling his hair and doesn’t want it to get messed up

gyuvin jokingly whines a little, but is over it after a few seconds

when ricky started dating you, although he thoroughly knew you and almost all of your habits and mannerisms, he didn’t think you would be into playing with his hair

you’re hanging out, watching a movie at your apartment while your head is rested on his shoulder when he feels your fingers suddenly brush through the strands of his hair

he turns to look at you, partly shocked but also just wondering what you’re planning on doing to his hair

you shrug your shoulders, keeping your eyes on the tv and not minding him one bit

“what are you doing?” he asks, a little amused

he expects you to reply playfully, to exchange banter or something like that

but instead, you say, “your hair is really soft, you know,” as you proceed to curl a portion with your finger acting as the curling iron

ricky quite literally folded that day... now he lets you do whatever you want with his hair

you can braid it, curl it, whatever

he doesn’t mind as long as it’s you, even if he spent nearly an hour fixing it this morning

you’re in a cafe talking to gyuvin and gunwook, sitting at the other side of the table when you lift your arm to twirl ricky’s hair, him not remotely flinching at the contact

gyuvin is pleasantly surprised to witness this sight

“you don’t let me do that,” he sulks, aimed at ricky

your boyfriend scoffs. “you’re not [name].”

gyuvin 규빈

always texts you + makes sure you’ve eaten

okay i think i’ve seen a lot of people say this already idk but i think it’s soooo true

gyuvin texts you excessively

like. about anything

there was one instance when his little brother had a crush on a girl, and gyuvin literally went to you for help and his brother didn’t even have an inkling of what was happening

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): [NAME] MY LITTLE BROTHER... is... growing up :(

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): he used to be so small i could put him in my pocket and now

yn: what happened???

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): he LIKES A GIRL. who told him it was okay to get a girlfriend? at his toddler age??

yn: gyuvin i love you but we started dating when We were his age

and then he continued to ask you for advice on how to help his brother get the girl he liked

there’s more instances of him oversharing his brother’s life with you, but that ends there

he also buys you snacks all the time

even if you don’t want it. even if you verbally, very clearly, straightforwardly tell him you’re not the tiniest bit hungry

he’s basically your mother oml

he makes those little snack baggies for you to take

before you both graduated, gyuvin would bring you lunch. it didn’t just stop at snacks

he would ask his mom to help him cook for you

and he’d make it all cute and stuff like shaping the rice to be your favorite character

he’d pack it to school and give it to you in the morning. omg

mixing those two things together, you get “have you eaten yet” texts all the time

it’s two pm, and you were so stuck while helping a friend that you regrettably forgot to eat lunch. ‘it’s okay,’ you assure yourself, ‘i had a late breakfast’

gyuvin texts you, asking the usual “have you eaten lunch????” and you lie and say yes

and then your phone rings and you know you can’t avoid it anymore because he can see through your voice when you lie

from the speaker of your phone, gyuvin’s voice is unbelievably attractive—but you choose to ignore that fact for now

“[name],” he deadpans. “be honest. have you eaten?”

choosing to accept defeat, you exhale deeply. “no.”

gyuvin suddenly hangs up and only a text is left on your screen

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): i’m coming over in. like 30 minutes i have to ask my mom to help me cook

gunwook 건욱

teaches you how to dance

gunwook is SO good at dancing it’s so crazy

i love watching him on stage because he’s the best performer ever. like he seems to genuinely enjoy it and i hope he never loses that love for dancing / singing / rapping

you on the other hand..... you could be good at dancing too, just definitely not as good as gunwook

so whenever your scheduled dates are interrupted by his extracurriculars at school, you decide to tag along with him, if the members of his clubs don’t mind (which they usually don’t)

one of his extracurriculars is the dance team

and most of the time, when your preplanned dates are cancelled because of an extracurricular he has lined up for him, it is almost always dance

so you end up following him to the practice room, silently watching him in the corner so as to not obstruct their view of the mirror by sitting directly in front of them

his eyes light up with the flame of passion you adore so much, and you’re so content that even if your date is cancelled because of this, you’re not annoyed and you still get to indirectly spend some time with him by spectating him as he does what he likes

in the short breaks that he gets, he takes the opportunity to sit beside you on the floor and ask about your day

when the practice session ends, he asks if it’s okay with you if he stays to polish up the routine, to which you say yes and offer to stay with him because everyone else has started to leave

after a while, he grows tired and plops down next to you

gunwook chuckles. “i’m sorry for cancelling our date and making you stay with me.”

“it’s alright, i like watching you dance.” you smile

he abruptly stiffens up, irises reflecting the light, making his eyes glow excitedly. “do i dance well? what do you think?”

you giggle. “you dance very well. a lot better than i can, for sure.”

“mhm, yeah?” he grins widely, and you know what he’s going to do

gunwook jumps up on his feet, extending his hand out to you to help you get up

“you just need a little help.” he nods proudly. “you’re lucky i’m your boyfriend.”

you take his hand, and he leads you to the center of the room and he starts to dance with you ballroom style (???) like the waltz and stuff

he guides your arms over his shoulder to circle his neck, and his hands rest on your waist and then he starts counting, “4... 3... 2... 1... like this,” as he takes a singular step in different directions, encouraging you to mirror his movements

you almost trip, but you tightly cling on to his shoulders before you can fall

gunwook laughs. “enough dancing for today?”

“yes, please,” you agree, letting your body fall forwards into a hug with him

“alright. if you’re not that tired, are you still up for that date?”

yujin 유진

(tries to) initiate / enjoys physical touch

yujin doesn’t seem like his love language is physical touch.... i know gyuvin does it a lot to him and he kinda pretends to not like it but it’s so endearing and i sooo believe he deep down loves it

it’s the same with you, but he’s the one intiating it

he never thought he liked skinship all that much, because he would even jokingly say it pestered him a little at times when gyuvin would dote on him

but when it came to you, and when you first started dating, he was itching to hold your hand

it was so new to him because he never craved for anyone’s physical affection before

all his older friends like gyuvin and gunwook would always just.... initiate skinship for him and he thought he didn’t like it but

suddenly you come along, and you don’t even try to hold his hand

he thought couples were supposed to hold hands?? and hug??

but you’re not budging and it’s so frustrating

while walking you home from school like usual, as you tell him about your day, he tries to gather the courage to intertwine your hands

it doesn’t work, and he’s left with cold hands as he stares at you enter your front door

“next time,” he whispers to no one but the wind

next time comes and still... he’s too nervous to hold your hand

the distance between your palms is less than four inches, and all he has to do is take the leap—besides, nothing could go that wrong. you like him and he likes you

he purposely bumps the back of his hand with yours, but doesn’t actually take your hand in his

he awkwardly rubs his nape, unsure of what to do now

your brows knit together, as you’re now aware of yujin’s weird behavior

“yujin?” you tug on his uniform sleeve. “is something wrong?”

“no! nothing’s wrong,” he quickly denies, “don’t worry about it.”

“okay... can i see your hand, though?” you request, and it successfully confuses him because why do you want to see his hand?

he obliges, giving it to you palm up when you lace your fingers with his

“i’ve noticed you trying to hold my hand since last week,” you say, giggling. “i was waiting for you to do it, but i guess you’re too shy.”

“i’m not that shy,” yujin defends, looking down at your interlocked hands... ‘this is a good feeling,’ he thinks

you nod passively. “it’s fine. it’s one of the reasons why i like you.” you swing both your hands back and forth in the space between you

yujin doesn’t try to retort, only relishing the feeling of your hand in his

skinship isn’t so bad... maybe he could get used to this.

[xan-izme]

Dubble Life 5 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: Family time was a need at the moment. And it was time reader meet one more member of the family. But the meeting of the two wasn't really friendly.

(A/N: Hey, sorry. Imma keep this short. So, the reason I couldn't post was cuz me n a friend was playing around too much, and my laptop broke cuz she decided to go all WWE on my ass, and I forgot the password for this acc. But it's fixed now. So, this chapter will be a late X-mas gift from me)

Part 4, Part 6

Damian was getting rather attached to you.

You were nothing like him. To Damian, you were weak, silly and peaceful. You just seemed so peaceful. And satisfied with just the littlest things.

The air around you just seemed inviting. Safe even.

Damian must admit he didn't like you at first, you just always seemed off to him. The lying you were doing, the fake and empty words. He didn't trust you.

But that day Joker attacked. The He saw so much of you. The real you. He saw you sad at the album store, just for a moment. But it was long enough to see. And your laughter. Your laugh and smile before were very annoying to Damian. Only because you only would smirk and snicker at him out of mockery.

But the movie made you laugh. Really laugh, really smile. At him mostly- but it was real!

Damian, he won't admit it, but he liked it when you were being yourself. And there are times he has seen you far away. Like your body was present, but your mind and soul seemed to be elsewhere. Even if you were engaging into a conversation. It was like someone completely different was speaking. Not you.

So, to bring out the real you. Damian would come with excuse of being board and having nothing better to do, and watch movies with you. Just to see you laugh, sad, angry. Just to see you.

You stared at the box on your nightstand. What was it exactly? You wanted to open it. But what if it's something you won't like. Something that will upset you more than needed.

"What is that?" Damian spoke. The boy practically came out of nowhere. But your used to it at this point. The boy is like a ninja, always sneaking up on you.

You sighed and turned your chair to start your school work.

"A box. . ." Even with your back turned from the boy. You had the urge to remind Damian not to touch it. "A box that you will not open." You turned your head to see you were correct. You had a box cutter in his hand, ready to open the box up. How or where did he get that box cutter from? You don't know, nor do you want to know.

Damian plopped down on your bed and started to examine the box. "Who was it from?" Damian saw no name to whom had sent the box.

". . . an old college of mine." You answered nice and short. Already feeling angry at the thought of Jess even knocking on your uncle and aunt's door to give the box to them.

Damian hummed and set the box down. He got up and started to go through the crates of albums you had near your bookshelf. He picked one and walked over to the vinyl player that was close to the window, near you, and started to let it play.

You smiled to yourself as Damian walked back to your bed.

Damian was trying to know what was in the box. Shaking it, knowing the wight and try to think of something that was the same size and wight that could be in the box.

It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

You took a glance to check why Damian was so quiet.

You let out a sigh when you saw him passed out. You stood up and walked over to the bed and use a blanket to cover him. You took the box away and sit back down at your desk.

It was time you had to open it. You used your super strength to open the box with ease. Once you saw what was in the box. You let out a tired sigh and leaned back in your chair.

It was a watch. The one the society uses. You see a note besides the watch. You shook your head and opened up the note what was addressed to you.

Call if you need help.

-Miguel

You crumbled the note and threw it away. And cursed to the man.

"Hijo de puta. Vete al diablo."

Unknown to you. Damian was still awake. He watched you get angry at whatever that note said. And the boy isn't that fluent in Spanish, but he does know whoever it was, you're not fond of them. On top of that.

You're hiding something. And Damian wants to get down it.

The next day, you skipped happily to the kitchen to get your fourth cup of coffee. "Another cup I see, not sleeping well Lady Y/n?" Alfred spoke. You giggled and held the warm cup close to you.

"Just need a boost. Hey, Damian said something about a dinner with everyone. Is there a special occasion?" You asked.

"Ah, yes. There is someone you weren't able to meet. Master Jason. He is available for tonight's dinner to finally meet you."

"Oh, I see. Oh, Alfred can you tell Bruce that I'm going to be out with a friend. Do you think that's okay. I leave in half an hour." You gave him a sheepish smile.

Alfred gave you a soft smile and nods "I'll inform him."

You got to your room and dressed up. You put the watch on and tapped the screen. And information of an anomaly that has been causing trouble showed up.

You walked to your bathroom and opened the cabinet. You cracked open the stash you had behind the meds and other items. That was where you hid your suit.

Just looking at it. The patterns, colors, the memories. You quickly stuffed the suit back into the stash.

"I can't do this. I can't do this." You shut your eyes tight, gripping hard on the sink. You tried to focus on your breathing to try and calm yourself, but the more you focused on your breathing, the more you noticed how fast your breathing was, which caused you to panic.

"Please. . . No, no, no. Please!" Your felt tears well up. Causing you to panic more. You began gasping for air. Trying to breath. Trying to calm yourself. But the moment you exhaled. You began sobbing. Your sobbing caused you to be frustrated at yourself. Your frustration made you cry more. You threw the bag that had your suit against the wall.

Unknown to you, a Polaroid picture of your mother slipped out.

As you were having your moment in the bathroom. Bruce had entered your room. He knocked and called out for you. But you didn't respond. So, he entered your room and didn't see you in your room.

He was confused, because Alfred had told him you were in your room. Before Bruce left to check to check if you were elsewhere. He heard something from your bathroom.

it didn't take long for him to instantly hurry to your bathroom and enter.

And there, he saw you on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably with your hands covering your face. Worry took over him as he slowly approached you.

"Y/n?" He spoke softly. But a little too soft, you couldn't hear him due to your crying and desperate attempts to breath normally.

He took another slow step closer. And something on the ground caught his eye. At first, it was the bag, then, his eyes slowly made its way to the Polaroid picture of your mother. He picked it up. He stared at it, then stared at you.

And to him, he understood. He understood all too well.

"Y/n. you're okay. You're okay." He gently put his hand on your shoulder. You flinched away, when you look up to see Bruce, you were confused. But all he did was smile at you softly and sat right next toy on the bathroom floor.

"Just breath. Okay, breath." You kept eye contact with him as he said these words. He rubbed circles on your back as he began to have you follow his breathing.

And to your surprise, and relief, it was working. You felt so, venerable. Usually, you hated feeling that way. But with your father, you felt. . . safe, to be venerable.

No words were spoken for a long moment between you two. Until you whispered

"I'm sorry." You were apologizing for this situation you had caused. But all your father did was rub your back.

"I understand," Was all he said.

"I understand"

That small moment had brought you and Bruce closer. A somewhat mutual understanding. It honestly felt like an invisible vail had been lifted between you to.

It took you an hour or so to get it back together. You left to deal with the anomaly. Just without your suit. You had an all-black disguise on, Gotham was dark and gloomy, so it was easy to blend in.

Now you're in an abandoned school, fighting off a green goblin anomaly. He was small, and nasty. Got on your damn nerves that's for sure. Once you defeated the green goblin. You open the portal and just threw the anomaly in and closed the portal.

You let out a loud, exhausted sigh.

"I swear. I have bones of a 60-year-old- ack! Jusus. . ." You had stretched and it hurt badly. Mainly your bad and knee hurt.

Suddenly. Your Spidey senses spiked up. You quickly jumped to your left and glared into the dark corridor.

"That was interesting to Watch." A voice spoke from the dark corridor. A figure emerges from the dark.

Revealing a tall man with a very noticeable red helmet that looked more like a mask.

You frown underneath your own mask.

"And you are?" You spoke up.

The masteries man spoke again, more aggressively. But this time. You hear a clicking sound. A gun. Pointed right at you.

"This is my city. And I wanna know why your here, Spider-woman."

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Sweaty

week 2 of the Winter Writing Challenge

prompt: "I totally definitely did not just watch you chop wood outside.“ 

Summary: Things.... escalate after Joel caught you watching him chopping some wood outside in the snow.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

Rating: E

Warnings: some domestic fluff, flirting, smut (unprotected sex), f masturbation, cum play, some dirty talk, Joel Miller really being into readers tits, humour I guess?

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Ellie was hovering behind you. 

„Stop it,“ you hummed, your hand steady as you tried yourself on the first decorative frosting of cookies in… twenty years. 

„I’m not doing anything,“ she whined. You could feel her breath on your upper arm. Turning you head to the side you narrowed her eyes at her. 

„I wanna waaaatch. It’s so cool,“ she pouted. 

You sighed. 

„Okay. But you gotta give me some space. I haven’t done this in a long time,“ you said. She grinned, taking a step to the side. 

Ellie had asked you for help.

She wanted to do something nice for Dina and asked you for advice. You ended up offering to teach her to bake some of Dina’s favourite cookies and then help decorating them with whatever you could find in the community kitchen. 

Turned out Ellie was not as creative with cookie decorating.

She got frustrated pretty quickly, leaving you to do most of the decorating, while she cleaned up the kitchen. But now she was finished and while you still hated people watching you when you worked, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the girl standing next to you. 

Things did not start out like that with the two of you. 

You had moved into the house they had apparently occupied when they came here the first time, leaving Ellie calling you House thief for the first months after meeting. 

More than once you had offered to move, the house being way to big just for you alone, but Maria and Joel had insisted you stayed. 

Ellie and Joel had moved into the house across from you instead, leaving you with your official first neighbours. 

They both did not talk much in the beginning, nor did you see much of them. 

Sometimes you saw them leave the house together in the early morning when you were just finishing getting dressed. Sometimes you saw Joel sitting alone outside of his porch, a guitar in his lap, his eyes far away. 

You hadn’t really talked to either of them until a month after they joined the community and Ellie had somehow managed to break you kitchen window as she played outside. 

Joel had made her say sorry before he offered to fix the window up for you. 

And it seemed like Joel found reasons to come and see you after that alone. Without Ellie around, just him and you. 

Your sink leaked? Joel would fix it. 

Creaky floorboards? Fixed within a day. 

Your back was tense, because you had spent all day cleaning out the stables? Joel’s big hands could help. 

Thinking back, him offering to massage you had been smooth as hell, but you were just too thankful and exhausted that day to notice just how much he had been flirting with you. Or maybe you were generally not used to people being very interested in you. 

Hell, to this day you went all shy when he told you all the things he wanted to do with you (or to you).

It had now officially been nine months since you and Joel started dating, and three months since both Joel and Ellie moved into your house. 

You were putting the finishing touches to the cookies, when you heard the door open and close, followed from a long released deep sigh, that brought a smile to your lips. 

„Joel’s home!“ Ellie said just before he walked into the kitchen. You looked over your shoulder, smiling at him. 

„Though patrol?“ You asked. 

„Stupid fucking newcomers want to play hero just to get knocked of their horses,“ he grumbled, walking over to you. He kissed your cheek, smiling at you. 

„Ugh, gross,“ Ellie gagged and you rolled your eyes. 

„That’s gross? Remind me who asked me to help her bake cookies for the girl she’s crushing on again?“ You sing sang and Ellie blushed. 

„Shut up. You’re like ancient…. And I do not have a crush,“ she mumbled, grabbing a cookie to hide her smile before she sprinted out of the kitchen and you heard her footsteps walk up the stairs. 

Joel’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. You brought one cookie up, feeding it to him. 

He moaned softly, enjoying the taste. 

„How about you leave some of that frosting for later?“ He asked, licking his lips. You set your frosting tools down, turning in his arms with an eyebrow raised. 

„To do what exactly?“ You pursed your lips.

He leaned in, kissing you softly. 

„Guess you’ll have to wait to find out,“ he winked, pecking your lips again before he took a step back. 

„I’ll get some wood from outside and then I’ll take a shower,“ he said.

„Okay,“ you smiled.

Half an hour later you had put all cookies away, Ellie had grabbed and packed the ones for Dina and left for the birthday sleepover party and Joel was still outside. 

With the intention to look for him outside you made your way towards the front door, grabbing his extra winter jacket to stay warm, and then walked towards the back of the house. 

It was a chilly December day, snow shovelled high everywhere, yet there he was. Joel Miller, stripped off of his flannel and only wearing his grey undershirt, swinging an axe down on a log of wood, splitting it in half with what looked like ease, the wood seemingly melting against the force of the blade. 

You stopped in your tracks, your feet seemingly glued to the snowy ground beneath you, watching the man you loved split some firewood. His hand gripping the handle of the axe, the muscles of his arms flexing every time he split another log of wood. His shirt clinging to his sweaty chest.

You swallowed, your eyes tracing the veins of his arms you loved to brush your fingers on whenever you had the chance to. 

You kept watching him, for what felt like hours (or days) but probably only minutes, fascinated (and turned on) by the sheer strength of his body. 

Fuck, your man was hot. 

Joel set the axe down, his hand brushing his hair back as he groaned, brushing the sweat that had started trickling down his temples away. When he looked up he found you standing there, watching him. 

He tilted his head and you flushed, your teeth catching your upper lip between them, nervous. 

And yeah, still turned on. 

It only took seconds for Joel to access just why you were looking at him like you wanted to jump him, his left eyebrow raising in question, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips. 

Not wanting to embarrass yourself by more ogling you turned around, intending to walk back into the house, when you slipped, crying out in surprise, but before you could fall to the ground, hands wrapped around your upper arms, keeping your upright. 

Both of his arms wrapped around you from behind then, one of his hands on your stomach, keeping you close to his body. His nose in your hair. 

He smelled of leather, nature and sweat. 

„Careful there sweetheart,“ he whispered and you shivered. 

„Can’t just run from me after undressing me with your pretty eyes…“ he kissed your neck. You closed your eyes, tilting your head to give him more space. 

„I.. I wasn’t…“ you began to lie but he hushed you. 

„You weren’t watching me? Getting a little turned on?“

„… No?“ You gasped, feeling his fingers play with the waistband of the sweatpants you had on, having left the jacket unzipped as you left the house. 

„So… your little pussy isn’t dripping for me right now?“

You scoffed. 

„My little pussy is always wet for you, baby,“ you smiled softly, closing your eyes. 

„God damn right she is,“ you felt him grin against your neck. 

He had you stripped down within seconds, making you lay with your legs spread for him on your bed while he got out of his clothes, having you whimpering when he pulled his belt of the loops of his jeans with one fluent movement. 

„Touch yourself baby,“ he said, getting his shirt off. 

You brought one of your hands straight between your legs, playing with your clit. 

„Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy,“ he groaned, making quick work of his pants and underwear, shrugging them off. He spit into his hand before he wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping it slowly as he watched you. 

You moaned. 

„Can see how wet you are. Can smell you. Put two fingers inside,“ he said, his voice raspy and deep. Sinful. 

You obeyed, pushing two of your fingers inside, whimpering softly. 

„Fuck yeah,“ he hummed.

The bed dipped and Joel’s hands were on either of your knees, his gaze fixed on how you were fucking yourself with your fingers. 

„Wanna fuck you hard,“ he groaned and you moaned. 

„Do it,“ you sighed, close to your first orgasm. 

His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling your fingers out of your pussy and into his mouth, his tongue cleaning your cum off, humming as if It was a five course meal. 

„Fucking delicious. Best pussy I ever tasted,“ he winked and you chuckled.

„Ready for me sweetheart?“ He asked, kneeling between your legs. He notched his cock against your pussy, using his hand to slip it over your clit, playing with it. 

„I’m so fucking horny for you. Just fuck me,“ you whimpered. 

„Gonna make your tits jiggle for me,“ he winked, before he lined his cock up and filled you in one hard thrust, both of you moaning.

„Oh fuck,“ you cried out. He did not give you much time to get used to the size of his cock, starting to fuck you in quick, hard movements. You stretched your arms above your body against the mattress, pushing your chest out towards him, your tits moving every time he thrusts into you. 

„So god damn wet,“ Joel groaned, pumping into you, moving your whole body with his forceful thrusts. The headboard was hitting the wall and you were thankful Ellie would be out of the house for the whole night.

„Fucking love your tits,“ he rasped and you playfully wiggled your chest, making him groan.

„Not gonna last long today. Touch that clit for me,“ he said and you did. Your hand back between your legs, parting two fingers to feel where he was filling you before you began to circle your clit, the combination of him fucking you and playing with your clit leaving you reaching your orgasm in record time, crying out his name. 

„Fuck,“ he groaned, pumping into you a handful more times before he pulled out, jerking himself off until he released a long groan, coming all over your stomach and tits.

„Mmmmhhh…“ you hummed, your eyes closed as you panted for breath. 

When your eyes opened Joel still had his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes burning into you. Letting go of his cock he brought both of his hand down on your body, smearing his cum all over your tits and stomach, massaging it in. 

„You really like tits, huh?“ You asked and he smiled, almost shyly 

„Really like your tits,“ he winked, using both of his hands to squeeze them. He groaned as he softly let himself fall down on top of you, his weight a welcome blanket, his head resting between your tits. 

„We gonna be all sticky,“ you mumbled, pulling one of your arms around him, your other hand brushing through his hair. 

„Don’t care. `s comfortable,“ he kissed your tit and you smiled. 

„All of this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t ogled me like fresh meat outside,“ he said and you laughed. 

"I did not ogle!" you said.

"Uh huh. You totally did watch me watch chop firewood outside," Joel said smug.

"I totally definitely did not just watch you chop wood outside,“ you giggled.

"Sure sure," Joel hummed.

You laid there in each others embrace in comfortable silence for a moment.

„So us being sticky is now my fault?“ You asked after a while. 

„Jep,“ he kissed your tit again.

„I guess I can live with that,“ you said and you felt him moving a little on top of you until his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking softly on it, making you sigh.  One of his hand was on your other tit, softly squeezing it.

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth before a teasing grin came to your lips. 

„Imagine if these were full of milk,“ you teased and felt him still. 

„God fucking damn it, woman.“

[amora1tarada]

Notes: This is the first fanfiction that I had the courage to post! I’m super excited but also a little nervous. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. English isn’t my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes, and I’d be grateful for any tips you have! I’m considering a part two with some smut, but I’m still building up my confidence in English to try it. Have a nice reading, and please don’t forget to repost, leave kudos and comments—your thoughts mean the world to me!

World count: 2k

nightwing/dick grayson

The sound of footsteps dragging across the hardwood floor was what broke the silence of your apartment, jarring you awake from a fitful sleep. The clock on your nightstand blinked red: 2:47 a.m. You didn’t have to look to know who it was. You’d recognize his tread anywhere, the slightly uneven steps that meant he’d probably taken another beating tonight. A familiar knot of fear tightened in your chest, but a wave of relief washed over you as well. He was here. He was alive, at least for now.

With a sigh, you threw on the robe hanging by the bed, clutching it tightly around your body as you moved through the darkened hallway. You were so tired—exhausted in a way that no amount of sleep could ever fix. It was a weariness that lived in your bones, a heaviness that came from watching someone you loved throw themselves into the jaws of danger night after night. You tried, every time, to tell yourself it wouldn’t happen again, that you’d close the window and let him figure it out on his own. But the truth was, you could never turn him away. Every time he stumbled through that window, beaten, bruised, and bleeding, you were there to catch him.

When you reached the kitchen, he was standing by the sink, his back to you, gulping down water like he’d been running for miles. His shoulders slumped in fatigue, his usually immaculate hair disheveled, and from the faint reflection in the window above the sink, you could see a small cut on his lip, a bruise darkening along his jaw. He looked… worn. He always looked a little worn, but tonight there was something different. The way he leaned against the counter, his hand gripping the edge so hard his knuckles had gone white, it was like he was trying to keep himself anchored to the ground.

“Hey, sweets,” he said, not even turning around. His voice was rough, more from exhaustion than pain, but you could hear the tension in it. “Sorry for waking you.”

You took a shaky breath, closing the distance between you and him. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” You tried to sound lighthearted, but the words felt hollow. How many times had you said this? How many nights had he apologized, and how many times had you brushed it off like it didn’t matter?

In truth, it did matter. Every time he came to you like this, a little more of your heart chipped away. Every bruise, every scar—it was like you were carrying them too, bearing his pain in silence. There were so many times you wanted to scream at him to stop, to beg him to leave this life behind. But you knew he never would.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and loaded. He finished his water, setting the glass down on the counter with a dull thud. You could feel the question hanging in the air, the one you always asked even though you knew the answer would be the same.

“What happened?” you asked softly, stepping closer, your hand brushing lightly against his back. His muscles tensed under your touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“It’s nothing. Just… a long night,” he replied, his voice barely a whisper. But you knew him well enough to know it wasn’t just that. He leaned into your touch for a moment, letting out a long, shuddering breath, and then you felt his body sag, as if all the weight he’d been carrying suddenly became too much.

He turned to face you, and that’s when you saw the rawness in his eyes. There was guilt there, a deep, gnawing pain that he was trying so hard to hide, but it was spilling over, cracking the mask he always wore. He reached up, his hand trembling slightly as he touched your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “A woman got shot tonight,” he said finally, the words falling heavily into the quiet. “She… she was just an innocent bystander. If I had been faster, more careful… maybe…”

“Dick,” you murmured, placing your hand over his, trying to still his shaking fingers. “It’s not your fault.” You spoke the words gently, firmly, hoping he would believe you, though you knew he wouldn’t.

But he just shook his head, a haunted look in his eyes. “It feels like it is. Every time someone gets hurt, I… I can’t shake the feeling that I should have been better. Done more.”

You took a deep breath, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over. You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to be perfect, that he didn’t have to carry the world on his shoulders. But you knew he wouldn’t listen. His mission, his need to protect Gotham, was woven so deeply into his soul that nothing you said would change it.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He stiffened at first, but then he melted against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his breath, warm and uneven against your skin, and his grip tightened, like he was afraid that if he let go, he would fall apart.

“I’m so tired,” he whispered, the words barely audible. You could feel the exhaustion in him, the weight of every battle he’d fought, every person he hadn’t been able to save. And for a moment, you wondered if he would finally break, if he would finally let you in, let you carry some of that burden with him.

But then he pulled back, his expression shuttered once again, and you knew that he wouldn’t. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

Still, you took his hand, leading him toward the bathroom. He followed silently, and you could feel the tension radiating off him, the heaviness of everything he couldn’t say. You wanted to tell him how much it hurt you to see him like this, how every bruise and scar he bore felt like one etched into your own skin. But instead, you just filled the bathtub with warm water, your fingers brushing against his as you gently helped him undress.

As he sank into the tub, you knelt beside him, reaching for the shampoo. Your hands moved carefully, massaging the lather into his hair, washing away the dirt and blood from his night. His eyes drifted shut, his body slowly relaxing under your touch, and you could see some of the tension melting away. Here, in this quiet, dimly lit bathroom, it was almost like everything was normal. Like he was just a man, and you were just the woman who loved him.

You could feel your own tears slipping down your cheeks, though you tried to hold them back. Watching him like this, so vulnerable, broke something in you. You wanted so desperately for him to stop, to give up this life and just… live. With you. But that was a dream, one that would never come true.

When you were done, you helped him out of the tub, drying him off with slow, careful strokes, your hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You dressed him in fresh clothes, guiding him to the bed, and he didn’t resist as you brushed through his hair, letting your fingers trail gently against his scalp.

“It’s enough, sweets,” he murmured, his voice soft and thick with sleep. “Can we just… go to bed now?"

You hesitated, looking down at him. You wanted to tell him everything you felt, all the fear and pain that you kept bottled up inside. But he looked so tired, so worn down, and you couldn’t bring yourself to add to his burden. So you just nodded, slipping under the covers beside him.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his face buried in your hair. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you pressed your face against his chest, hiding it from him. “It’s fine, Dick,” you whispered. “I’d do it all again.”

The silence filled the room and it was almost sacred, a rare moment of peace in a life filled with chaos. He was holding you close, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as if he was afraid you’d slip away, vanish into the dark. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and grounding beneath your hand on his chest, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this was your life—that he wasn’t Nightwing, that he was just Dick, and that he was yours.

A sliver of moonlight streamed through the curtains, casting a pale glow across his face. His eyes were closed, his lashes casting faint shadows over his cheeks, and you let yourself study him, unguarded and still. Every line of his face was familiar to you, etched into your memory from a thousand stolen glances. But there was something fragile about him tonight, something that made you want to reach out, to hold him a little tighter, as if you could shield him from the life he’d chosen.

He must have sensed your gaze, because his eyes fluttered open, soft and filled with an exhaustion that went beyond the physical. For a long moment, he just looked at you, as if he was searching for something, some answer hidden in your face. And you held his gaze, your own heart pounding as the weight of all your unsaid words settled between you, heavy and unbreakable.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he raised a hand to your cheek, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that stole the breath from your lungs. “I don’t… deserve this,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “I don’t deserve you.”

You shook your head, covering his hand with yours, feeling the roughness of his calloused fingers beneath your touch. “Don’t say that,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “It’s not you who decides.”

For a moment, he looked like he was going to argue, to turn away from you ignoring your feelings. But you saw the vulnerability so clearly in his eyes in a way you’d only seen glimpses of before. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and your breath caught as his forehead rested against yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Why do you keep doing this, night after night? Why do you keep letting me in?”

You swallowed hard, should you tell him you love him? That you had always loved him and always will? That you just couldn’t leave? No matter how hard you tried? The words were almost spilling from your lips, But you couldn’t bring yourself to say them out loud. “I don’t know, I just care so much about you, that it hurts. I can't seem to let you go.”

A shuddering breath escaped him, and he closed his eyes, his face a mix of pain and guilt. “I’m just so sorry for everything I put you through. I…I thought you hated me at this point.” he murmured, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles at the base of your neck. “For dragging you into this shit. I’m sorry, I really am.”

You shook your head, your fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair, holding him close. “I could never hate you. I just… I wish you didn’t have to carry this alone. I wish… you could let me in.”

His eyes opened, locking onto yours, and in the soft glow of the moonlight, you could see everything he’d kept hidden—the fear, the longing, and now there was a new feeling that you couldn’t quite decypher what it was.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest, most delicate kiss, as if he was afraid that if he pressed too hard, you’d disappear. It was a kiss filled with hesitation, with years of longing and fear, with all the words he’d never found the courage to say. And as his lips moved against yours, slow and tender, you felt your heart shatter and mend all at once, as if this was the moment you’d been waiting for, the moment you’d always known would come but never truly believed.

You kissed him back, your hand moving to cup his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the faint scrape of stubble against your palm. It was soft, unhurried, a gentle exploration that spoke of all the times you’d imagined this, the way his lips would feel against yours, the way his breath would mingle with yours. And in that kiss, you poured everything—all the nights you’d spent worrying, the tears you’d shed for him, the love that had grown quietly in the depths of your heart, waiting for this very moment.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a faint, almost disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles on your back, grounding you, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of peace in his expression.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. “Just… stay with me, like this. Please.”

You nodded, your hand moving to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. “Always,” you whispered, and you knew, deep down, that it was a promise you would keep, no matter how many nights he stumbled through your door, broken and battered. Because this was where you belonged—right here, by his side, in the quiet hours of the night, holding him together even as he held you.

As he pulled you back into his arms, his lips found yours again, a little more certain this time, a little less hesitant. And under the soft glow of the moonlight, in the silence of your shared space, you kissed him like you’d always dreamed, like he was the air you needed to breathe, like he was the very heartbeat of your soul. Because, in a way, he was. He always had been.

The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, a gentle exploration of everything you’d both kept hidden. His hands moved up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing along your cheekbones as if he was committing every detail to memory. And in that kiss, you felt years of pain and fear melting away, replaced by something softer, something that felt like hope.

When you finally broke apart, he held you close, his head resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet. Neither of you spoke, because words felt unnecessary. Everything you needed to say had been shared in that kiss, in the way his hands held you, in the way his eyes met yours with a vulnerability he’d never let anyone else see.

And as you lay together in the quiet, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten, you knew that this was what you’d been waiting for, what you’d been fighting for. In that moment, you knew that you would always stay with him, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much you wished he would stop, you knew you would always be there for him. Because even though he was breaking you, piece by piece, you loved him. You loved him more than you loved your own heart, and you knew you would stay by his side, no matter how many nights he stumbled through your door, broken and bleeding.

Because that was what love was, wasn’t it? Holding on, even when everything in you wanted to let go.