#Flat Pack Kitchen Cabinets
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Are Flat Pack Kitchen Cabinets The Right Choice For Your Home?
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When it comes to kitchen renovations, flat pack kitchen cabinets are a popular choice for homeowners seeking affordable and versatile solutions. These cabinets provide flexibility, customisation, and convenience. But are they the right choice for your home? Let’s explore the benefits, installation process, materials, and more to help you decide.
What Are the Benefits of Choosing Flat Pack Kitchen Cabinets?
Flat-pack kitchen cabinets offer numerous advantages that make them a go-to option for many homeowners.
Cost-Effective: They are often more affordable than pre-assembled or custom cabinetry.
Customisable Designs: Available in a variety of styles, colours, and sizes to suit individual preferences.
Ease of Transport: Flat-packed cabinets are easy to transport, reducing delivery costs and logistical challenges.
Quick Availability: Widely available at retailers and online, with shorter lead times than custom options.
DIY Potential: Homeowners can save money by assembling and installing the cabinets themselves.
How Easy Is It to Assemble and Install Flat Pack Cabinets?
Flat pack cabinets are designed for DIY assembly, but there are key steps to ensure a smooth process.
Clear Instructions: Most come with step-by-step guides that are easy to follow.
Basic Tools Required: Typically, only common tools like screwdrivers and drills are needed.
Pre-Drilled Holes: Simplify assembly and ensure accurate placement of hinges and screws.
Team Effort Recommended: Having an extra pair of hands can make the process quicker and safer.
Professional Help for Complex Setups: For intricate installations, consider hiring a professional.
What Materials Are Used in Flat Pack Kitchen Cabinets?
Understanding the materials used can help you choose durable and aesthetically pleasing options.
MDF (Medium-Density Fibreboard): Commonly used for flat pack cabinets, offering a smooth finish at an affordable price.
Particleboard: Lightweight and cost-effective, though less durable than MDF or plywood.
Plywood: A sturdier option for those willing to invest a little extra.
Laminate Finishes: Provide a stylish look while protecting the core material.
Solid Wood Options: Rare but available for high-end flat pack systems.
Where to Source Quality Flat Pack Kitchen Cabinets?
Finding reliable suppliers is key to ensuring the quality of your flat pack cabinets.
Local Hardware Stores: Offer a range of cabinets and provide in-person support.
Online Retailers: Provide extensive catalogues and customer reviews to guide your purchase.
Specialised Kitchen Stores: Offer higher-quality products and expert advice.
DIY Chains: Affordable and convenient options for budget-conscious buyers.
Second-Hand Markets: For eco-friendly and cost-effective choices, consider pre-loved cabinets.
What Are Common Mistakes to Avoid When Installing Flat Pack Cabinets?
Proper planning and execution are crucial to avoid pitfalls during installation.
Skipping Measurements: Always double-check your kitchen dimensions before purchase.
Forgetting Tools: Ensure you have all the necessary tools before beginning assembly.
Ignoring Wall Strength: Verify that your walls can support the weight of the upper cabinets.
Rushing the Process: Take your time to avoid misaligned panels or damaged parts.
Overlooking Professional Help: Don���t hesitate to hire a pro for complicated setups or tight spaces.
Conclusion
Flat pack kitchen cabinets combine affordability, style, and versatility, making them an excellent choice for many homeowners. By understanding their benefits, materials, and installation process, you can confidently decide if flat pack kitchen cabinets are the perfect fit for your kitchen renovation.
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Flat Pack Cabinets Maximise Space Efficiency And Help Keep Your Kitchen Organised
These cabinets come unassembled, packaged flat, and ready for easy installation, making them ideal for DIY and budget-conscious renovators. Despite their ready-to-assemble nature, flat pack kitchen cabinets don't compromise on quality or design.
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Are any specific tools needed to assemble cheap kitchen cabinets in a flat pack?
Assembling cheap kitchen cabinets flat pack can be an enjoyable project with the right tools at your disposal. A power drill, screwdriver set, rubber mallet, level, measuring tape, clamps, and safety gear are a few tools required to ensure smooth and efficient assembly. Proper preparation with the proper use of these tools ensures that you end up having a beautiful, functional, and not-too-expensive kitchen space. Now, enjoy the process of transforming your kitchen into one with flat-pack cabinets!
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Flat Pack Outdoor Kitchen Cabinets
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Elevate Your Kitchen with Stylish Wardrobes in Ulverstone
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Upgrade your kitchen's functionality and aesthetics with the exquisite range of kitchen wardrobes at Cube Kitchens & Joinery Pty Ltd. Our collection offers a diverse selection of modern kitchen designs to choose from, ensuring that you find the perfect blend of style and practicality. Whether you're looking for a sleek and contemporary design or a more traditional and timeless look, our expert designers can bring your vision to life. Discover the possibilities of enhancing your kitchen space with the integration of well-crafted and functional kitchen wardrobes.
Introduction
Your kitchen is not just a place to prepare meals; it's the heart of your home where family and friends gather. An organized and aesthetically pleasing kitchen can enhance your cooking experience and elevate the ambiance of your living space. At Cube Kitchens & Joinery Pty Ltd, we understand the significance of a well-designed kitchen, which is why we offer a stunning range of kitchen wardrobes in Ulverstone.
Modern Kitchen Designs
Our collection of kitchen wardrobes boasts an impressive array of modern designs. From sleek and minimalist styles to bold and contemporary aesthetics, you'll find a variety of options to suit your preferences. We stay updated with the latest design trends to ensure that our offerings align with the evolving tastes of our clients.
Creating Your Unique Vision
We believe that your kitchen should reflect your personal style and preferences. Our team of expert designers is dedicated to collaborating with you to bring your unique vision to life. Whether you have a specific design in mind or need assistance in conceptualizing your ideal kitchen space, we're here to transform your ideas into reality.
Blend of Style and Functionality
Our kitchen wardrobes are more than just visually appealing; they are designed with functionality in mind. We seamlessly integrate style and practicality to provide you with kitchen wardrobes that not only enhance the aesthetics of your space but also optimize organization and storage.
Quality Craftsmanship
At Cube Kitchens & Joinery, quality is at the forefront of our craftsmanship. We take pride in every detail of our work, ensuring that your kitchen wardrobes are built to withstand the test of time. Our commitment to using premium materials and employing skilled craftsmanship results in durable and reliable products.
Customization Options
Every kitchen space is unique, and we understand that one size does not fit all. Our kitchen wardrobes can be tailored to suit your specific needs and preferences. Whether you require additional storage, specific shelving arrangements, or unique finishes, we offer customization options to create a wardrobe that aligns with your requirements.
Transforming Kitchen Spaces
With our kitchen wardrobes, we aim to transform your kitchen space into an organized and efficient area. Say goodbye to cluttered countertops and disorganized cabinets. Our well-designed wardrobes provide ample storage solutions, allowing you to streamline your cooking and dining experience.
Professional Installation
The installation process is a crucial step in ensuring that your kitchen wardrobes seamlessly integrate into your space. Our skilled professionals handle the installation process with precision and care, guaranteeing a flawless finish that complements the design and layout of your kitchen.
Client Satisfaction
The ultimate testament to our success lies in the satisfaction of our clients. We take pride in realizing the visions of our customers and contributing to their joy and comfort. Our commitment to exceptional service and craftsmanship has allowed us to build lasting relationships with our clients.
Experience Cube Kitchens & Joinery
Elevate your kitchen space with the impeccable collection of kitchen wardrobes at Cube Kitchens & Joinery Pty Ltd. From personalized designs to unmatched craftsmanship, we're dedicated to creating kitchen spaces that are functional, stylish, and tailored to your needs. Discover the difference that well-crafted kitchen wardrobes can make in enhancing your culinary haven.
#Wardrobes Ulverstone#Kitchen Wardrobes Ulverstone#Fitted Wardrobes Ulverstone#Sliding wardrobes Ulverstone#Laundries Ulverstone#Kitchens & Laundries Ulverstone#Laundry Cabinets Ulverstone#Joinery Ulverstone#Vanities Ulverstone#Vanities by Design Ulverstone#Flat pack wardrobes Ulverstone#Kitchen renovations Ulverstone#Kitchen renovation cost Ulverstone#Kitchen makeovers Ulverstone#Kitchen renovation ideas Ulverstone#Modern kitchen renovation Ulverstone#Modern kitchen remodeling Ulverstone#Modern kitchen design 2021 Ulverstone#Cabinet Making Ulverstone
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Kitchen Cabinets Lilydale
Are you looking for flat pack kitchens in lilydale? Modernise your home and make it your own without breaking your budget with the expert at Flatpack Kitchens.
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you start dating oliver knowing his past and all his bad habits. you fall in love with him with your hands held out to break the fall, and you never fantasize too much about a potential future to share with him. but when he pulls the rug from under your feet and tells you that you're not worth the hassle anymore, your face stings like you fell flat on it and you hear the telltale crack of your heart breaking. he asks you to leave the apartment you'd been sharing for the past year.
you take out two boxes, one to throw and one to keep. oliver is surprised by how methodically you pack up, as if you had already thought this through and come up with a plan. you breeze through the first five minutes of packing, keeping or throwing your personal belongings, but from where he was seated on the couch, oliver realises you're slowing down.
you look at the cups and bowls in the kitchen cabinet, the bottles of wine and whiskey you promised to share, the pots and pans your mother had given for you two to use. you look at the books on the shelf in the living room, the movie posters on the wall, the potted plant on the coffee table you promised to water whenever he's out for a match. he peeks through the open door of your once shared bedroom to see you looking at the blanket you knitted since you always stole the blanket in your sleep, the skincare products on the vanity that you share, the lingerie he liked to see you in.
oliver doesn't move from the couch, but from the few metres away, he can hear your deliberation in your quiet breaths. what is 'yours' and what is 'his', if everything in the house was bought and made as 'ours'? where does your world end and his begin in this universe you built together? how could two souls be pulled apart if they were made to be one?
oliver still doesn't move, so you do. you pick up the fragments of your broken love and lower them into either hearse of flimsy cardboard. the cups clink against each other in a requiem for the memories you shared, and the bowls continue to sit in the cabinet. he watches you bury the lingerie into the box to be kept, and his stomach lurches when an image of you in it, intertwined with another body that wasn’t his, flits through his mind.
oliver swore to only gamble on the girls who seemed easy to get rid of, the ones who wouldn't put up a fight when he eventually gets bored and the ones who'd get bored of him first. he’s always held the leash in an open palm and has never been one to beg the other person to stay, but when he sees you tape the boxes shut, his fingers twitch. for the first time in his life, he regrets taking the gamble.
the apartment is silent after you leave. there are still traces of you in the things you chose to leave with him and your scent is still lingering in the still air, but otherwise, the apartment looks like it did the day before you moved in. oliver remembers that night clearly; he was making space in his life for you to settle into, and outside his window, there were fireworks from the ongoing summer festival. oliver was never one to be poetic, but in that moment, he thinks that you are somewhat like fireworks. you burst into his life with a bang, fill it with colours and light his face up with a smile, but once you dissipate away, he’s left with darkness and ringing ears.
he looks down at his clenched fist and opens it slowly, hoping to see the red string in his palm looped around his pinky. instead, all he sees is the broken crease under his pinky and ring finger.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#oliver aiku#oliver aiku x reader#oliver x reader#emma is thinking...
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“Man Junk”
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★college student! Kyojuro Rengoku x college student fem!Reader★ Synopsis★There was something too sexy about your roommate Kyojuro. You couldn't be blamed for wanting to grind on his meaty thighs.★ Includes★Teasing, Choking, Kissing, squirting, humping, thigh humping, roommate fucking★ ★W.C★3.2k
You were happy as hell to finally be on your own. No longer held down by your parents, free to grow into your own person. To explore the world as a young adult.
Having gotten into a good college far away from home, you were bonafide by yourself now. Unfortunately that meant financially as well. Your parents gave you a choice. You could either go to college locally and they would help you pay for it as long as you lived at home. Or you could go, and cut off contact. And never see another penny from them again.
It was a hard choice, but one you needed to make. You couldn’t be under their control anymore.
So you left, packed all your things and got on a plane across the country. And here you were, at your new university.
The first few weeks here were….expensive. A little too expensive for the small convenience store job you had. So soon, on campus living turned into an impossible wish. And late nights studying ended up being paired with searching for apartments nearby with tenants looking for roommates.
It took a while, but eventually you found someone who was offering an affordable amount of rent and who seemed decent.
A girl named Kyojuro Rengoku. It was a pretty name and the girl sounded nice enough on her profile. So after a bit of paperwork and packing, you were on the way to your new home and to see your new roommate.
It was early morning when you arrived at the apartment complex. It was just as nice as all of the photos you had seen. Nice brown brick surrounded each complex and the area was nice and gated. You even spotted a pool on the premises. All this for only $500 a month on your part was definitely worth it.
You locate apartment building 3 and use the key you were mailed a few days earlier to head inside. The only bad part about this place was the fact your apartment was on the second floor. You decide to take this one bag at a time. Lugging your first suitcase up the stairs with you. You knock on the door, breathing heavily. You really need to get your muscles up.
The door opens and you let out a sigh, “Hey girly!, mind helping me with my bags, i packed a shit ton and they’re heavy as-”
“Girly?” a voice says. And it was the exact opposite of what you were expecting.
You peer up from where you were looking, craning your neck in an attempt to see the entirety of the person standing in front of you.
Turns out Kyojuro was not a sweet girl. But a big ass man. A hot one at that. And in that moment you wished you weren’t in the baggiest and bleach stained sweater you owned, a raggedy scarf on your head.
This guy had to be a giant, he towered over you. It would have been menacing if his demeanor wasn’t so kind.
“Kyojuro?” you question dumbly. Who the hell else would be in Kyojuro’s house.
A deep laugh rumbles from the man, “Yeah, I'm guessing you’re Y/n” he says and you nod.
“Gotta say, I thought you were a dude little lady” he says, and you gasp in slight offense. You had thought you came off as very feminine.
“Well I thought you were a girl!” you say right back.
Kyojuro’s hands reach out for your bag, easily lifting the suitcase as if it weighed nothing. Your eyes lingered alone in his arms. How in the world was it possible for a man to be so strong.
“Thank you” you find yourself saying as he leads you back to where your room was. Your eyes trail along the apartment, taking in your surroundings. Much like the apartment complex, the pictures of your new home were accurate. The kitchen was spacious, with nice brown cabinets. And the living room was cute and cozy, a flat screen mounted on the wall.
As you walk, Kyojuro tells you where everything is. The linen closet is to your left, the bathroom is further down on your right. Finally he passes his room and then makes it to yours. The room already has a bed. The room was pretty plain and it would take some decorating. But your new room was nice, and spacious. You could work with it.
“Got any more bags Y/n?” Kyojuro asks and you nod, “Yeah, but I can get them-”
But Kyojuro’s already gone downstairs, pulling up boxes and bags you had. You could already tell that living with Kyojuro was going to be interesting. But it would be nice to finally have some form of independence. Plus, Kyojuro seemed like a really nice boy.
A nice one with strong hands, and thighs that should be illegal.
—--------------------------
Life is a bit easier now. You were actually able to save money and weren’t scavenging for leftover money every month. Plus living with Kyojuro was so easy. He wasn’t a slob, he kept after himself. Washing dishes, cooking meals when it was his turn. He was a sweetheart too, helping you with homework and things like that.
He was a year older than you, a sophomore at the same university you went to. Often driving you to class and things like that.
It was stupid, the way you were slowly growing a bit too attached to your roommate. But how could you be blamed? He was too fine. It should have been illegal to look as good as him. You didn’t know you had a thing for bigger guys until you met him. But you had never met a guy built like him in all of your lifetime.
He had a good foot on you, and never failed to make your neck ache from the way you had to crane it from looking up at him. His hair was long, dyed to mimic the colors of fire. Often, when he was home he let it fall completely down, the wispy hairs closer to the front of his scalp flowing over his face.
But your favorite part was how strong he was. His shoulders were so wide, sloping down into muscular arms and veiny hands. His thighs were so thick they almost beat yours. The only difference being that yours were soft and smooth. While his were heavy and strong.
How could any girl not fall for him? He was strong, smart, and thoughtful. Triple threat.
Too bad for you though. Your first crush with freedom seemed to be all but interested in you. It was admirable, how studious he was. But…you wanted his attention to be off his books and on you for once.
You might have been delusional, some might even call you crazy. But you had a pretty good plan. What man could resist a pretty girl like you walking around in nothing but their panties.
There were a lot of things that could go wrong with what your plan was. Kyojuro could genuinely not be into you and you’d end up making a fool of yourself. Kyojuro could kick you out for being so indecent.
But whenever you looked at Kyojuro, your care about all the consequences faded away. The possibility of pleasure clouding over your mind.
So gradually, you walked around in less and less clothing. You even went a little over budget for the month and bought yourself some lacier panties.
And the games began.
Kyojuro noticed. How could he not.
He had a very similar fascination with you as you had with him. When he first saw you, bare faced and beautiful it took everything in him to keep his cool. He had never seen someone as beautiful as you.
You were short…ridiculously so. It hurt his neck to have to look down at you. But the view was worth it. So worth it.
Beautiful you were, big eyes that always looked up at him with what he hoped was admiration. You were so gorgeous he felt himself losing his cool around you all the time. Fighting for his eyes to stay on your eyes instead of trailing all over you. He was a gentleman after all.
Focusing on school and keeping his gaze off of you was the only way to not be distracted by you, constantly in his vicinity.
But that grew impossible, when you started walking around without pants on. At first, Kyojuro thought you were just wearing shorter shorts. After all, he had a few female friends who loved the short shorts and oversized shirt combination.
Though he was proven wrong when you were carrying some papers back to your room and dropped a few. He meant to stand and help you pick them up but got his breath taken away from the sight of you bending over to pick your papers up.
You were definitely pantsless. And the underwear you were wearing barely deserved the title of undergarments.
It was pink, a color he learned was your favorite, with lace along the edges of it. The fabric was netted, see through, allowing a super clear view of…everything. Fuck you had a pretty pussy. He could see you had shaved, pretty lips on display. From this angle he could almost see your clit. And honestly, just the glance had him hardening in his pants. Now he was wishing he had chosen something that would have made his boner less obvious.
As you stand up you peer back at Kyojuro. And you see his hands shoot to his cock in an effort to conceal his hard on.
The man swears he sees a small smirk on your face as you strut away.
You have your torturous fun for weeks, always bending ignorant of Kyojuro in a new set of panties that let him get a gorgeous view of your pussy.
But one day, you take it even farther than any other day. Kyojuro is just watching TV. It’s a bit late at night, and he had just come home from a late night class. All he really wanted was to unwind as today had been a bit stressful.
As usual, as soon as he was comfortable, starting to relax. You strut in the room. For some reason, your tight pink shorts and even tighter little tank pop is worse than the see through panties. It’s as if everything is on display, yet not enough.
You don’t just disappear into your room after showing off to him though. Instead you move to sit next to him. The look on your face was ridiculously sweet. As if the sight of you right now wasn’t giving him a boner that was a bit too hard to stop.
Surprisingly, you don’t make a sound, choosing to sit quietly next to him. Watching what he was watching without disturbing him.
It's when the show ends, however, that you rile him up again.
And this time is his last straw.
You reach for the remote that was sitting on the coffee table a little to the right of Kyojuro. To reach it you stretch your body, practically over the man’s lap to change the channel. And maybe also to wiggle your ass in his face.
Kyojuro lets out a sigh. This teasing game was getting tiring. Clearly you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. And frankly, today he was a bit too tired to rub one out in the bathroom to the thought of you. Why do so when you’re right in front of him, begging for it.
You yelp as a heavy hand smacks right on your ass. It hurts, and it stings, but you swore it was the best feeling ever.
You turn around, eyes as wide and innocent as ever as you face him. “Kyojuro, what was-”
“Shut up” he rolls his eyes, “Sit on my lap” he says.
And you're sat as soon as the words leave his mouth. The tone of his voice made you feel like you were in trouble, like you were in for it bad tonight.
“Usually I love teasing, I really do. You have a beautiful pussy Y/n” he compliments, “It’s almost as pretty as you”
You’re convinced you need to wake yourself up from a dream as Kyojuro leans to start kissing your neck. Your head feels a bit fuzzy. There was a lot going on, pretty fast. Your brain was barely managing to keep up.
“But I'm too tired for the games today, so just take what you want” he tells you.
And you have the nerve to stutter in response, as if you hadn’t been torturing him for weeks,
“I-I-...I- d-don’t know what to say” you moan as his hands stay firm on your waist, massaging your lower back.
He rolls his eyes, a hand coming to wrap ever so gently around your throat. The hold doesn’t hurt at all, but it does turn you on. Real bad. Kyojuro drags you closer, so your lips are close to his. “So you can be a slut all the time but not right now, huh?” he says, “That’s a shame”
You could barely register his words though, trying to lean in to press a kiss to his lips. But Kyojuro uses his hold on you to keep you back.
“Uh, uh, I don't kiss girls who can’t tell me what they want upfront” he says and you pout. Kyojuro swears it’s the cutest thing he had ever seen. But your cuteness wouldn’t get you out of this. Not now at least.
“You’re mean Kyo’ ” You whine, hips unconsciously moving from how arousing this whole situation felt.
But Kyojuro just chuckles, “I’m the mean one, but you’ve been teasing me with your cunt for the past week” he says, “A nice girl would've let me taste it ... .play with it” he continues.
“Sounds to me like you’ve been mean” he counters.
His words make you imagine all sorts of things. You might die if he ever played with your cunt, and if he ate it you were sure you’d cum too fat.
“Fuck, I want that” you moan. “I want it so bad”
“No, didn’t I tell you that’s what nice girls get,” Kyojuro says, “Remind me what you are again?”
You sigh, “I’m mean” you say, and Kyojuro smiles, finally leaning in and letting you kiss him. The kiss feels good, it is good. TO be fair, you hadn’t been kissed by many people before. Or any for that manner. But you liked the feeling, it was exhilarating. His lips were strong, guiding you through the kiss. He could tell by how clumsy your lips were against his that you didn’t do this often.
But he took care of you, helping you get the hang of kissing until you were confidently pressing your lips against his. He pushed your limits by sliding his tongue into your mouth. It was weird, to have him stick his tongue down your throat. But you liked it. You were sure you’d love anything Kyojuro did to you.
Your hips started to grind down on the man's lap, whining into his filthy kisses. It felt like the hold he had on your neck was keeping the oxygen from itching your brain. Everything was intoxicating, the feeling of him everywhere. His hands on your waist, or really trailing all along your body now. His lips claiming yours in a sweet kiss. His thigh between your legs.
Kyojuro could feel you grinding against his lap and he shifts you onto one of his thighs. You cry out as he flexes his thigh. And you can feel every vein on the appendage rubbing perfectly against your clit.
You feel like a dirty whore as you hump against him, huffing into his mouth. It wasn’t even all that much friction, but you could feel yourself soaking your underwear. It was getting to the point that you were sopping through your underwear, your shorts too! And if Kyojuro’s pants were any lighter, there would be remnants of your slick along his thigh.
“Nasty little girl aren’t you baby” he mumbles into your mouth, “So wet for me”
You grind yourself harder into his thigh as he talks to you, “I can’t help it Kyo, it feels so good”
It was embarrassing, how close you were just from a bit of humping. But something about Kyojuro just filled you with a nasty need. He was so fucking sexy, and you had wanted him in any way you could get him.
Just having him now was driving you a bit crazy.
Your loud whines filled the room as Kyojuro’s hands started to help you grind. It’s a lot, but it’s good. A little too good. You wish you could prolong the pleasure. Hell you hoped this moment would ever end.
You press another kiss to Kyojuro’s lips again. It’s sweeter and softer than before. But the hand around your throat that pulls you away reminds you how raunchy this moment really is.
“You close doll?” he asks lowly.
“Y-Yeah Kyo, M’so close. I-I think i’m gonna cum” you moan.
Kyojuro smiles. The sight of you. A whiny mess on top of him was almost worth ignoring the rock hard boner in his pajama pants. Made him wonder how pretty you’d look taking his cock. Would you whine?Would you cry?Would you cream?
But he would save that for another time.
For now he’d grind you on his lap until he made your sloppy cunt cum. And then maybe. He’d give you what you really deserved.
“What are you waiting for then?”Kyojuro says, “Go ahead and cum”
His words seem to possess your body. And you grip onto the hand squeezing around your neck. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as pleasure overwhelms you. Kyojuro sees nothing but the whites of your eyes as your pupils disappear into the back of your head.
He’s made a fair share of girls cum but…never this hard.
Kyojuro was almost scared you were hurt with how long your body was still. But he lets out a sigh of relief as your body shakes over his. You spew out a flurry of thank you’s and mess up whimpers of his name.
And for a moment, Kyojuro freaks out a bit at the wetness that spills over his lap.
He lands a mean slap on your ass and you yelp as he finally lets your neck go. You collapse against this chest, his strong hands wrapping around you, massaging your waist just as he did before.
Kyojuro thinks you’re spent, how could you not be after how hard you just came.
But as you pull back in his hold, eyes tired, droopy yet filled with need. A small request spills from your lips, “If I tell you what I really want will you do it?” you ask softly.
And Kyojuro thinks that tonight might be longer than he thought.
~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024
#Kny#demon slayer#kny smut#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#kny hashira#demon slayer hashira#rengoku kyojuro#kny rengoku#rengoku x reader#demon slayer rengoku#rengoku smut#rengoku x reader smut
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જ⁀➴ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 . . . (𝐎. 𝐏.)
— when oscar gets a little too drunk to drive home after a party at your place, you offer him a place to stay for the night
+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! this was super fun to write - i have such a soft spot for writing for oscar, so
+ mentions of drinking and alcohol
a collage of empty bottles and sticky countertops were the only remaining pieces of evidence that a party had occurred in your flat. just over an hour ago, the small place had been packed with people, some you were close to, and some you were sure you vaguely knew, somehow.
loud music had been replaced by the soft sound of a vinyl playing from your bedroom as you pottered around with a black bin bag, throwing away as much waste as you could without disturbing some of the fuller bottles of alcohol. anyone who threw away a half-full bottle of gin was a sinner in your eyes.
it was peaceful, finally having some time alone to breathe, to think. well, almost alone, anyways.
oscar stumbled around your flat with a bag of his own, steadying himself against the counter as he collected the leftover beer bottles for recycling. it was endearing, the way he seemed to trip over his own feet every now and then, the intoxication turning him into bambi taking his first few steps.
his usually pink cheeks were flushed a little darker, hair more messy as a few longer strands fell in front of his eyes. clearly putting all of his focus into his task, oscar didn’t even bother trying to push his hair away, succumbing to slightly obscured vision in his already less-than-stable state.
truth is, oscar wasn’t even meant to be staying over.
when you’d invited him to your place initially, he had claimed he would come for a drink or two, but leave early since he was already feeling pretty tired. that plan had went out of the window twenty minutes after he arrived, thanks to logan supplying him with a shot - or four - before he’d even finished his first beer.
since he’d driven over and was in no fit state to get behind a wheel right now, you’d instantly offered for him to stay at yours. he could take your bed, the couch, wherever he wanted, as long as he stayed. because he wasn’t an absolute idiot, oscar agreed without complaint.
another thud alerted you to oscar only just managing to catch himself against your kitchen cabinet, having lost his balance once more. you held back a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him, but he caught your eye with a crooked grin.
“are you sick of me yet?” he asked, accent made even thicker as his mouth worked harder to wrap around the sounds of his speech.
“not at all,” you replied, the words rolling off of your tongue without a second thought.
you didn’t think you could ever be sick of oscar, especially not like this. here he was, absolutely smashed, yet still making an effort to help you out by cleaning up around the flat a little even though you’d insisted you were fine doing it alone.
anyways, to be sick of oscar right now would make you a hypocrite: you were far from sober yourself.
a lull fell over you both, the only sound coming from the lovers rock album playing in the other room and the gentle clink of glass bottles. the padding of your sock clad feet was like percussion in the soundtrack of your simultaneous cleaning, and the whole thing felt somewhat domestic as you worked peacefully.
but, you were only human.
it was only a matter of time before you both gave up on the cleaning, vowing to do it in the morning when you were sober and more alert. the last thing you needed was for someone to drop a bottle and make the process ten times harder.
after fumbling for the kitchen's light switch and bathing the room in a cold darkness, you both moved over to your bedroom, the fatigue of the evening suddenly crashing over you.
making it to the bed seemed like far too much of an effort, yet sitting down right in front of the wooden frame was apparently much more appealing to you both.
oscar let out a soft oof as he collapsed onto the floor next to you, folding his legs up to his chest in a way that didn't look to be too comfortable thanks to his taller frame.
motivated by your own selfish wants, you let your eyes trace over every inch of oscar, taking advantage of his more oblivious state. his already sleepy eyes were lidded, and it seemed like he was fighting his own body just to stay awake for a little longer.
because nothing was ever fair, oscar caught your stare. you expected a teasing remark, maybe even a playful expression, yet nothing came.
instead, coffee coloured eyes met your own, softening reflexively as he caught your gaze. there was no mistaking it. oscar was moving closer to you.
just as your lips brushed against his, barely there like the flap of a butterfly wing, the music stopped. as the vinyl cut out, you and oscar were snapped from the bubble you’d found yourselves in, and you both pulled away with a sheepish laugh.
“fuck. two seconds,” you mumbled, huffing a little as you clambered onto your feet and flipped the record over, placing the needle back down onto the disc to begin playing the second side.
and if you happened to sit a little closer to him when you returned to your previous position, who was to blame you?
instantly, oscar's hand came to sit on your waist, thumb brushing gently against your hip as he dipped his face closer to your own. there were no interruptions this time, and your lips found his like they'd been searching for them your whole life.
and lucky old you had the whole night to savour this moment.
#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles#𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 becca's 'be my valentine' special#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#f1 x reader
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oh duck. im so sorry. this is... unhinged. 😅
MDNI
Keychain
“C’mon, babes. These blokes were cute. Val knows them. Said they’re nice… enough,” your best friend, Poppy, made a teasing face, sticking out her tongue at you before getting serious, “How long’s it been?”
You sighed, picking at your chipped nail polish,
“...six…”
“Six weeks!?” Poppy panicked in earnest.
“...months.”
“Six months. Are you —” she snatched your hand and dragged you to your feet, “Enough. Dry spell over.”
You found yourself arm in arm with Poppy, dodging raindrops and puddles on your way to her coworker’s flat, screaming and laughing so hard your lungs hurt, soaking in the cold downpour. There was a big party happening at her place that night. A key party. It was something she had picked up at uni. Everyone’s keys went into a bowl, and whomever’s keys you ended up with was who you went home with.
You followed Poppy into the alley, hiding under the awning as she buzzed up.
A crackled voice came through the grimey box,
“Yeah?”
“It’s Pops! Let us in, you slag!”
Giddy screaming came through on the speaker and you heard the door click. Up you went, trodding four flights of stairs, panting and dripping at the top. The front door was wide open and music thumped out of it. A few guests were out in the stairwell, propping the door open to a small balcony, smoking and drinking, crushing their bodies together and swaying to the beat.
“Pops!” A pretty ginger girl with a teensy tiny triangle top under a fishnet shirt came bounding through the foyer, “Come in! Come in. Name’s Val, nice to meet ya. Give us your keys, Pops. And you, too, new girl. Look at that top!”
She pretended to grab at your breasts which, you had to admit, did look pretty killer tonight. You’d worn a black leather bra top with silver glitter all over it, and you felt like some sort of rock star. A black leather miniskirt completed the ensemble. You couldn’t stomach the heels, so you opted for your combat boots. Val looked like she was about to spill out of that tiny top, but she made it look good.
You handed over your keys, watching your little glittery Bulbasaur keychain bounce around her finger as she twirled them in circles.
“Which bowl for you?”
“Huh?” You didn’t understand.
She pointed to each one, presenting them to you like she was hosting a game show,
“This one for if you like blokes, this one for if you like birds,” she gave Poppy a wink and tossed her keys in that bowl, “...and this one for if you don’t care what’s going on downstairs!”
“Oh, um,” you pointed to the last one, “Don’t care either way, really.”
“Perf! Okay, let’s see what you’re drinkin’!”
You followed them through the packed flat and into the kitchen. Liquor and beer bottles littered the countertop, and the only cups left in the cabinet were coffee mugs. You watched Val pull two down and pour some sort of blue drink into each one. She handed them to you with a bright smile,
“Better go mingle! Never know who might grab your key.”
You smiled, tight-lipped, wondering if you had just made a huge mistake or if you really would be going home with someone nice tonight.
Either way, you mingled, chatting with a few people, trying to hear them over the noise of the music. But, even in your rock star get-up, you weren’t really the partier that Poppy was. You peeked around the apartment for an escape. The bathroom was locked and, from the sound of it, a couple wasn’t patient enough to wait on their keys to get their night started.
You checked the next door and found the cloakroom. It was a bedroom slash office, and it was blissfully dark and quiet. You shut the door behind you, sighing with relief and then —
“Havin’ fun, yet?”
A deep, rumbling voice found you in the dark, and you froze. He was sitting in the window sill, smoking a cigar, and he put his hands up in mock-surrender,
“It’s alright, love. Just needed a bit of peace.”
“Yeah,” you said, regaining your composure and straightening your skirt nervously, “No, it’s okay. Sorry, I’ll just… go.”
“Can’t leave without your key,” he laughed, holding up your house key. Your sparkling Bulbasaur glinted in the low light from the window.
“You… how did you?” You stepped toward him, retrieving your key from his outstretched palm.
Now that you were closer to him, you get a better look at the man with your key. He was tall. Tall enough to dwarf you even while he was seated in the window. He had a full beard, shaved down the chin like a ship captain, or a pirate, and his eyes were the palest blue you’d ever seen. It was almost supernatural to look into them and be met with his icy stare.
He was sharp, too. You could tell that he had a quick wit, and an even more capable body. Huge, sculpted muscles pressed through his white tee shirt, tightening the thighs of his jeans. A veritable giant of a man. But when he smiled, just as he was doing now, you felt safe despite his stature. He seemed like he meant you no harm.
“How do you have my keys?” You asked again, watching as the white smoke billowed and curled out of his full lips, carried away by the night wind.
“Saw you come in. Couldn’t have some other arsehole picking you first, could I?”
“First?” You stood closer to him still, staring up at him as he rose from his seat, towering over you with his body, darkening the room in shadow.
“Aye,” his hand went to your chin, raising it up as if to have a better look at you, “Bit greedy, me.”
You thought he might kiss you, but just before he leaned close enough for your lips to touch, he took another drag from his cigar, letting you smell the tobacco and licorice scent on his breath, the lingering notes of whiskey not far behind.
“And you thought you could be greedy with me, is that right?” You whispered, unsure of why you were speaking so low, but he matched your register in his reply, purring his words at you and making your belly twist in on itself,
“I let myself hope so…” You watched as something that seemed like doubt flashed through his gaze, and a primal piece of you hated that.
“Good thing you snagged them, then,” you reassured him, letting your hands roam across his belly, circling around him and testing the waters, “Be a shame if someone else got to me first. Some… arsehole.”
“Careful, love,” he warned you, “You’re too pretty to be teasin’ a poor bloke in that fuckin’ outfit. Does things to us.”
You dragged your hand up his thigh, knowing exactly what things he was mentioning but playing dumb anyway,
“Oh? What… things?”
Quick as a snake’s strike, he snatched your wrist in his free hand and held you steady. It surprised you, and you froze from the shock of his strong grip. Then, your whole body lit up as he slowly moved your palm over to his zipper, behind which was pressed the hardest, fattest cock you’d ever felt in your life.
“These things.”
He flicked the end of the cigar clean out of the window and grabbed you around the jaw, bringing his face down to yours to kiss you. He was smoke and fire and whiskey and sugar and something musky that could only come from a human’s tongue. His beard scruffled your skin, tickling your lip as you kissed him back.
He pulled away, his eyes hooded from the pleasure of your kiss, and said,
“I’m John, and I am at your fuckin’ service, pretty girl.”
“Take your shirt off, John,” you nibbled on the bottom of his lip and smiled as sweetly as you could manage.
“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled back, wolfishly, and peeled his shirt off revealing his immense chest, covered in dense, soft hair.
You kissed him again, letting your hands touch him wherever you wanted to. You felt his soft nipples harden under your touch, and you stroked the smooth skin of his ribs, tattooed with some sort of skull and shield. In the midst of your lust-filled tour of his torso, he tossed you on the bed, piled high with coats and scarves, shoving them out of the way in a knotted, tangled mess.
He kissed his way down your body, stopping when he came to the swell of your breasts, chuckling and looking up at you.
You were already breathing heavy, a little annoyed he’d paused in the middle of something good.
“What?” You asked.
“You can’t be serious with these. Look,” he twisted a thick finger under the top of your bra’s cup and shoved it down, revealing your nipple as it popped free from its enclosure.
He fixed his mouth over it and began to suck. Then, he popped his lips off of you before sucking hard again, making you whine from the sensation.
“Fuckin’ perfect. Saw you and these gorgeous tits…”
Suck. Lick. Suck.
“...across the whole bloody room…”
Suck. Suck. Suuuuuuuck.
“...and I had to taste you…”
Suck. Bite. Kiss.
“…had to fuckin’ know.”
You let your fingers peel through his hair, messing up his gel, scratching his scalp, listening to him moan as he groped your breasts, hungry like a rabid dog.
“And,” you breathed deeply, trying to compose yourself, aiming to tease him further, “Are they what you hoped for?”
He grinned, dropping one hand to unbuckle his belt. Then, you felt his steely length loll and roll against the inside of your thigh. You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling his fleshy head drool across your skin. John looked down at you then, and returned your question with one of his own,
“What do you think, love?”
With an audacity you were not expecting, he slapped his rod against you, making little popping noises on your skin, opening some sort of feral door deep within your psyche.
“And then —” John put both of his hands underneath your hips and flipped you over, making you lay on your belly, surprising you with his incredible strength, “I saw this fuckin’ arse. Mmm.”
He raked your skirt up your legs and grabbed two huge handfuls of your cheeks, squeezing them so tightly it almost hurt. Then, he looped his thick forearm under your hips and lifted you up, making you present yourself to him lewdly.
“Tha’s it, pretty girl. Lemme see you…” He sighed raggedly, “Oh, fuck. Look at these.”
You felt his finger slide between the gusset of your panties and your aching hole, rubbing you up and down, pretending to admire your lace thong.
“These knickers, and this perfect fuckin’ hole.”
All you could do was hang there, draped over his forearm while he bent his head to plant his mouth against your center, doing a lazy job of moving your underwear out of the way, preferring instead to just eat you through them. You felt the warm prod of his tongue as he pushed it against the fabric, writhing it skillfully to get to your insides, licking in long strokes to work your taste into his mouth.
Your bra was still askew, letting your nipples rub against someone’s faux fur coat, and when you heard the clinking of metal sounds, you peeked over your shoulder to see John fisting his cock while he devoured you. His efforts were messy, and he drooled along your skin, not caring how much of you smeared all over his face.
“Mmf—”
You let out a whimper, unable to hold back, feeling the pressure of your pleasure mount as he focused on your rim, laving it in deep, circular strokes, bringing you right up to the brink and guiding you back down, torturing you right on the edge of bliss.
“Yeah? ‘S tha’ good, love?” He teased, releasing his cock to peel the thong off of you and shove his tongue deep into your hole.
“Ungh! Fuck, fuck, fuh—”
Your whole body tensed, leaving nothing to the imagination about the orgasm he had just wrenched from you.
“Good girl, that’s it. That’s it.” John talked you through it, speaking with his mouth full, licking you endlessly.
Then, he flipped you back over, prowling over your body like a beast, grinding his hips into you, asking wordlessly for permission. He kissed you again, letting you taste what he had done and you sighed into his mouth, eager for more.
You were soft for him, but you still wanted to push him. So, while he was looking down at you, pondering whether or not you’d let him go all the way, you stuck your tongue out, licking him from the bottom of his chin, over his plush lips, and up the tip of his nose.
He smiled and sat back, lazily playing with your breasts, trying to make damn sure you knew what you wanted.
“You want more, love? We can stop when you’ve had enough of me.”
You didn’t answer him. Instead you let your knees fall open, pushing your skirt up over your belly, revealing yourself fully to him. Then, you reached between your legs, past your aching hole and found the silky body of his cock. He shivered at your touch, and his hips rolled involuntarily as you began to stroke him, moving your hand back and forth, rocking your hips to add to the effect.
“Got any protection, John?”
He dug his hands into his pocket frantically and pulled out a condom. Breaking the corner with his teeth, you watched him roll the thin layer over his dick, still eager and willing to serve you. Even though he was in the position of power, the expression on his face made you feel like you held the flog.
“Fuck me,” he lamented, sitting back on his heels and gently playing at your soft, pliant hole reverently, “You’re the most beautiful fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen — ungh… or felt.”
The moment his fingers touched the inside of your body, his expression changed. It was as if a new part of his mind had woken up and taken over. He was fully in your thrall. You were sure that if you had asked him to leap out of the window, he might comply.
“C’mon,” you smiled, pulling him closer to you, kissing him softly and then as deeply as you could, breaking away to whisper, “Let me feel you.”
He reached between your bodies and you felt the wet lick of the lubed condom tip as it teased your hole. Then, the dense, hot pressure of his cockhead.
“Oh! You’re big,” you breathed.
John stopped,
“You alright, love?”
You nodded, canting your hips, searching for more of his girth to drag into your waiting core.
“Tell me,” John commanded, rocking forward a bit more, testing the waters.
“Yes, I need — god, please — I need more. Please.”
“Shh, shh. Here,” he pressed forward again, stretching you out, making your eyes widen from the new sensation, “Here I am. Here…”
He was kissing your neck and breasts, leaving little red marks behind from his strong suckling, licking and nipping at your flesh. You could barely feel it. All your body could concentrate on was the seemingly unending supply of hot, heavy dick he had at his disposal. He just kept moving forward, inch after inch. You thought, at one point, there could be none left, only to have him press just that much deeper.
By the time his base grinded down against your pubic bone, you had tears in your eyes, and you imagined that you should be able to feel him in your throat.
You sighed together, and he regained his balance, planting his arms beside you, elbows on each side of your face, covering you protectively.
“...so damn big. Holy fuck,” you gasped, whispering to him.
He nuzzled your cheek, a little sweet for how insanely lurid his sex had been,
“You ready, love?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
He began the long journey back out, and then his thrusting began in earnest. He was a slow fuck, but his girth made every pass a challenge. And he always made sure to bottom out. You could tell that was when he felt the most pleasure. So, you chased him with it. His cock would reach its peak in you, making your skin burn and your eyes roll back in your head, and just as he tried to escape, you would twist your hips to follow him down, making it feel as if you were locked together, unable to pull away from your warm muscles.
A few of those thrusts and he was breathing hard, fucking you harder, picking up his pace. Then, you opened yourself up for him, spreading your legs to allow his big body easier access to yours.
“Oh, fuckin’ hell. That’s good. You are so fuckin’ good. So good,” he praised you mindlessly, just saying words that floated through his mind. You knew it wouldn’t be much longer until he would go past the point of no return. So, you ran your hands over his body again, exploring him like you had been when you found him, swirling your fingers over his ribs and plucking softly at his nipples, kissing his neck, not caring if you left a hickey.
He was grunting and calling for you with every thrust now, his head buried in the crook of your neck, ready to spill himself for you.
Each strong thrust of his cock was shaking your bones, making your body want to come, twisting your muscles inside of you as a warning of what you were about to release.
His eyes lit up, finding yours,
“You gonna come for me, love?”
“Yeah,” you keened, pressing your forehead to his cheekbone, begging him for aid when there was nothing that could save you from being tossed into the deep end.
“Come for me. Fuck! There! Right there, hngh —”
You saw sparks at the edge of your vision, and your whole body arched against him, reeling with wave after wave of glittering joy. His face was twisted in a snarl, and he stopped breathing, coming with you in your shared ecstasy, his cock pulsing within you through his orgasm.
Then, he gasped, a smile painted on his face, half in soporific joy and half in disbelief.
“Fuck…” he said, gently untangling himself from you, letting his fat dick slide out of your wet, well-used hole.
You’d never felt so empty in your whole life, and you cried out from the loss. He heard you, wrapping you up in his arms and keeping you beside him, letting you both catch your breath.
After a while, long enough for the bass-heavy song to change, he slid out of bed and put himself back together. Just when you thought he would be on his merry way, he took your hand in his and kissed you with more affection than you ever expected. He told you,
“C’mon, love. Grab your keys. I don’t do one-night stands.”
“Oh?” You smiled, pressing your keychain back into his open palm, “You want more?”
“Told you I was greedy.”
#cali answers asks#the gift of gifs#pansexual reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#captain john price#john price#cod#captain price#captain price x you#call of duty#captain price x reader#call of duty fanfic
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ink & innocence - 26 *
word count: 8.5k
sweetness turned smutty! enjoy :-)
Aspen poured the melted ice from the plastic Ziploc down the sink, the quiet trickle of water filling the kitchen as she shook a few fresh cubes into the bag. The kitchen was dimly lit, the only light coming from the warm glow under the cabinets, casting soft golden hues across the counters. The faint murmur of voices from Isobel's room carried through the apartment, where she and Zayn had disappeared for the night, leaving Aspen and Harry alone in the quiet space.
She sealed the bag and turned around, her gaze immediately locking onto Harry's. He was leaned back against the counter, arms lazily crossed over his broad chest, watching her with tired but fond eyes. The cut on his lip had dried over, but his cheek was still a deep shade of red, swollen in a way that made her stomach tighten with worry.
Their night had wound down just minutes ago. The girls had greeted them with pouts, Isobel immediately berating Zayn for not taking care of his "God-sculpted face" before she shoved ice packs into both their hands. There had been no questions beyond the obvious—just a simple, "How do you feel?" and "Does it hurt?" before moving on as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
They spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch, drinks in hand—Harry and Zayn nursing whiskey, Aspen sipping on juice. A few rounds of Uno had them all cursing and laughing until their limbs grew heavy with exhaustion. Since they had left their car behind at the shop, the girls insisted they stay the night, brushing it off like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Now, as Aspen stepped closer, pressing the freshly filled ice pack against Harry's cheek, she sighed, her brows knitting together in concern.
"You look terrible," she muttered softly, her voice tinged with worry.
Harry huffed a quiet laugh, his hands instinctively sliding onto her hips, fingers flexing against the soft fabric of her pajama shorts as he pulled her closer. "What?" His lips quirked into a teasing smirk. "'M not handsome anymore?"
Aspen rolled her eyes, huffing out a small breath. "No, of course you are," she murmured, adjusting the ice gently against his face. "It's just... blender must've got you good, huh?"
Harry's brows lifted, his smirk deepening despite the cut on his lip. "You should see the blender."
Aspen giggled, the sound soft and sweet, filling the quiet kitchen like the softest melody. Harry watched her with adoration, the warmth in his chest settling into something deep and unshakable. Even after the night he had, even with his body aching and his mind heavy, she was enough to make him feel lighter.
She adjusted the ice pack again, but before she could linger too long, Harry reached up, gently curling his fingers around her wrist and guiding her hand away. He set the ice bag onto the counter before intertwining his fingers with hers, bringing her small hands up to his lips.
He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her knuckles, his touch featherlight yet reverent, like she was something precious—something he didn't want to let go of.
"Thank you, Asp," he murmured against her skin, his voice laced with quiet sincerity. "Don't know where I'd be without you."
Aspen felt her face heat instantly, her pulse fluttering in her throat. She shook her head shyly, fingers curling slightly against his. "H, it's just ice..." she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.
Harry's lips curled faintly, but he shook his head. "It's more than that," he corrected, his tone firm yet gentle. "It's you being here for me. Taking care of me so well. And I hope..." he trailed off, bringing her hands to rest flat against his chest, right over his heartbeat. "I hope I make you feel the same way."
Aspen swallowed thickly, the warmth of his touch seeping into her skin, grounding her in the moment. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palms, strong and unwavering.
She nodded, her lips tugging into a small, bashful smile as her eyes flickered up to meet his. "You do," she whispered. "You always do."
Harry exhaled softly, his grip on her tightening just a fraction, like he was savoring the weight of her in his arms. His thumbs brushed tender circles against her hips, his gaze lingering on hers with something unspoken—something raw and unguarded.
For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the dimly lit kitchen, the world outside fading into irrelevance.
And in that moment, nothing else mattered but them.
Harry exhaled softly, his thumbs still tracing slow, lazy circles against Aspen's hips as he took in the sight of her—her flushed cheeks, her shy yet adoring gaze, the way she fit so perfectly against him. He couldn't help himself. With a gentle tug, he pulled her even closer, tilting his chin just slightly before capturing her lips in a tender, lingering kiss.
Aspen melted into him, her hands still resting against his chest as she returned the kiss, soft and sweet, their movements unhurried. Harry kissed her like he had all the time in the world—like this moment, in the warmth of the quiet kitchen, was something he wanted to savor.
When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other, breath mingling in the small space between them. Aspen giggled softly, running her fingers absentmindedly over the fabric of his shirt.
"You taste like whiskey," she murmured teasingly.
Harry smirked, rubbing his nose against hers in a playful nuzzle. "And you taste like apple juice," he countered, his voice thick with affection. "Sweet as ever."
Aspen rolled her eyes, but her smile never faded. She let her hands drift up, brushing a few unruly curls from his forehead, her touch featherlight. "How was your day, by the way? I don't think I even asked," she realized, her tone soft with guilt.
Harry shook his head. "Nothin' too crazy. Just the usual at the shop—some regulars, a few new clients." He tilted his head slightly. "Had this one guy come in, wanted his ex's name covered up. But get this—he was covering it with his newgirlfriend's name."
Aspen gasped. "You're kidding."
Harry grinned. "Swear it. Zayn and I tried talkin' him out of it, but he wasn't havin' it."
She groaned, shaking her head. "That poor girl. She's probably gonna be covered up next."
"Exactly what I said," Harry chuckled. "Some people just don't learn."
Aspen hummed, still amused as she traced light patterns over his forearm. "Was there much of a mess to clean up from the... accident?" she asked hesitantly. "Like broken glass or anything?"
Harry's expression remained effortlessly composed as he shook his head. "Nah, nothing broke. Just had to fix up the shelf, that's all." His response was smooth, natural, not giving anything away.
Aspen sighed in relief. "That's good. I'd feel awful if you had to clean up a huge mess after getting hurt."
Harry squeezed her waist reassuringly. "Didn't have to clean up a thing, love. No worries."
They lingered like that for a few more minutes, their conversation drifting from Aspen's classes to a funny story Isobel had told her earlier. Every so often, Harry would tuck a loose strand of hair behind Aspen's ear, his fingers brushing against her jawline as he admired her. The way she spoke, the way she smiled—it was enough to make his entire night feel a little lighter.
Eventually, Aspen yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Harry took the hint, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before nodding toward the hallway.
"C'mon, let's get some rest."
Aspen led him upstairs to her room, her heart skipping a beat when she noticed that Isobel had kindly laid out some of Zayn's spare clothes on the edge of the bed for Harry. She turned to him with a small smile. "You can change into those. I'll go wash up."
Harry nodded, watching as she disappeared into the bathroom. Aspen took her time, washing her face and brushing her teeth before setting a spare toothbrush out for him. When she returned, she found Harry standing by her bed, dressed in Zayn's hoodie and sweatpants, looking unreasonably cozy.
"I left a toothbrush for you," she told him shyly, gesturing toward the bathroom.
Harry smirked. "Taking care of me again?"
Aspen's cheeks burned. "Just go brush your teeth," she mumbled, making him chuckle as he walked past her.
As Harry stepped out of the bathroom, he made his way to sit on the edge of her bed. The soft glow of Aspen's bedside lamp cast a golden hue across the room, bathing her in its warmth. She stood at her nightstand, delicate fingers unclasping the necklace she had worn all day, her movements slow and meticulous. Harry lingered for a moment in the doorway, watching her.
There was something about Aspen in moments like this— so unaware of how effortlessly captivating she was. The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the quiet focus on her face as she carefully laid the necklace down— it made his chest ache in a way he still wasn't sure how to put into words.
Before she could turn around, he moved, his presence suddenly warm behind her, his hands finding her wrists with gentle ease. His touch was tender, but there was something purposeful about it, something that made her breath still for just a second.
Aspen turned slowly, and the moment her eyes met his, she felt something shift inside her. Harry was sitting at the edge of her bed, gazing up at her with an expression so raw, so unguarded, that she almost had to look away. But she didn't—she couldn't.
His hands drifted down to hers, rough fingers intertwining with her smaller ones, and she let him. He toyed with them absently, tracing along the dips of her knuckles as if committing them to memory. His touch was warm, steady, grounding.
"You're so good to me, Asp," he murmured, his voice quiet in the stillness of the room.
Aspen swallowed, her heart hammering at the sincerity in his tone. The way he was looking at her—it was like she was something precious, something worth cherishing. It made her feel lightheaded, made her cheeks burn in that way they always did around him.
She tried to play it off with a small, bashful smile. "You make it easy," she admitted, her voice softer than she meant for it to be.
Harry let out a quiet chuckle, the sound barely more than an exhale. He lifted her hands, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to each of her knuckles. Aspen's breath hitched.
"I mean it," he said, his lips brushing against her skin with every word. "You always take care of me, always look out for me—even for the small things." He squeezed her fingers gently, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "Don't think I don't notice."
Aspen felt something tighten in her chest, something overwhelming and all-consuming. She didn't know how to describe it—only that it was him. It was the way he spoke to her, the way he touched her, the way he made her feel so seen.
Her lips parted slightly, her gaze locked onto his. She had never been good at saying what she felt, never been good at speaking words that left her vulnerable. But with Harry, it was different. With Harry, it felt safe.
So she let herself say it.
"I love you," she whispered, barely more than breath.
For a moment, there was only silence between them—thick, charged, heavy with meaning. His fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers, and Aspen swore she could hear his heart beating just as frantically as hers.
And then he smiled. Every time was like their first time saying it, so raw and so beautiful.
Not his usual teasing smirk, not his playful grin— but something softer, something fuller. His entire face softened, his green eyes shining with something unmistakable.
He turned her hands over in his, lifting them once more to press a kiss against the inside of her wrist, his lips lingering there for a beat longer than necessary. When he looked up at her again, there was nothing but warmth in his gaze.
"I love you, sweet girl," he murmured, voice thick with emotion.
Aspen felt her whole body melt. She wasn't sure she had ever felt something so right before. And as Harry pulled her just a little closer, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pressed his forehead against her stomach, she knew— this was where she was meant to be.
The quiet of Aspen's room was suddenly interrupted by muffled giggles from down the hall, barely audible through the walls but persistent enough to be noticed. At first, Aspen ignored it, too caught up in the warmth of Harry's hands still holding hers. But then the giggling didn't stop—it only grew, turning into soft, breathy laughter that was all too familiar.
Aspen groaned, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes as she let her head fall back in exasperation. Harry, who had been resting his forehead against her stomach, chuckled as he pulled back, looking up at her with an amused smirk.
"What was that for?" he asked, his fingers lightly squeezing her hips.
Aspen let her hands drop to his shoulders, giving him an exasperated look. "That's Isobel's 'I'm about to get laid' giggle," she deadpanned.
Harry blinked, then threw his head back with a laugh. "No way," he said, his grip tightening slightly on her waist as he pulled her closer. "Right now? With us here?"
"Apparently," Aspen muttered, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe her. She has no shame."
Harry shook his head, still grinning. "I mean, to be fair," he teased, thumbs brushing slow circles under the hem of her hoodie against her bare skin, "we did just crash here uninvited. Maybe she had plans."
Aspen groaned again, letting her face drop into his soft curls. "Ew, don't say that," She whined.
Harry chuckled, his hands wandering slightly higher under the fabric of her hoodie, his fingertips tracing aimless patterns against her warm skin. "I'm just saying," he mused, voice filled with amusement. "Maybe we're the rude ones for interrupting."
Aspen lifted her head to give him a pointed look. "No. They could have waited," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.
Harry's grin widened, his thumbs still moving in soothing circles against her waist. "Oh, come on," he teased, tilting his head at her. "Are you really that grossed out?"
Aspen narrowed her eyes, but her lips twitched with the threat of a smile. "Yes," she admitted. "I just don't want to hear it."
As if on cue, another set of giggles came from down the hall, slightly louder this time, followed by the sound of Zayn's voice—low and unintelligible, but undeniably flirtatious. Aspen made a noise of protest, burying her face in Harry's curls once again.
Harry couldn't hold in his laughter. He dropped his head against her stomach once more, his shoulders shaking as he tightened his arms around her. "Oh my God, this is amazing," he said through his laughter. "I have never seen you so bothered before."
Aspen smacked his arm lightly, making him laugh even harder.
But then, as if Isobel had finally realized how thin the walls were, a sudden shift in sound filled the apartment. A click of a speaker turning on, followed by music flooding the hallway, successfully drowning out whatever noises were about to be made.
Harry absolutely lost it.
He bent forward, his forehead pressing against Aspen's hip as his laughter spilled out of him, deep and unrestrained. "Oh my God," he wheezed. "They turned on music to cover it up. That's so obvious. That's so obvious."
Aspen groaned, shaking her head. "I hate her," she whined, but there was no real bite to her words. A small smile twitched on her lips at the sight of Harry laughing. The way his eyes squeezed shut and he barked out a laugh before letting it die out into softer ones made her heart swoon. Her big, dark and broody Harry, laughing.
Still laughing, Harry pulled back, his hands sliding a little further up under her hoodie, his touch warm and absentminded. "Should we do the same, then?" he teased, waggling his brows.
Aspen swatted at him again, making him grin.
"Not like that!" he amended quickly, biting back another laugh. "I mean— should we turn on music so we don't have to hear whatever they're doing?"
Aspen pursed her lips in consideration before nodding. "That's a good idea. But no funny business."
She reached for her phone on the nightstand and handed it to Harry, who took it with a pleased smile. It was already connected to her little pink speaker, so all he had to do was shuffle a playlist.
He scrolled for a second before selecting a random mix and tossing the phone onto the bed, music now filling the room and drowning out whatever sounds were coming from down the hall.
Satisfied, Harry turned his attention back to Aspen, hands sliding back under her hoodie without hesitation, fingertips pressing into the dips of her waist. "There," he murmured. "Much better."
Aspen hummed in agreement, her body relaxing under his touch.
The teasing melted away, leaving only the quiet warmth between them as they stood there, wrapped up in each other while soft music played in the background. And though laughter still lingered on their lips, there was something undeniably sweet about the moment—something safe, something them.
Harrys hands found their way back under her sweatshirt to her bare waist, giving her flesh a small squeeze. "The prettiest damn thing," He muttered. His fingers played with the material of her hoodie before he hummed. "Take this off?," he tugged at the hoodie.
Aspen raised her brow and narrowed her eyes after a second. "Harold..."
"No funny business! Just want to see m'girl." Harry swore, flashing her a lopsided grin that she ever so loved. She huffed softly but complied nonetheless, pulling at the sleeves to pull the material off her shoulders and head before tossing it to the side.
Aspen was now left in the soft material of her sleep shorts, the strings tied in a perfect bow at the front. The black tank top she wore clung to her skin comfortably, one of her favorites to sleep in.
The man hummed in satisfaction before returning his hands to her hips, his index finger and middle finger slipping under the snug material of her tank top. As he slid his hands up, he rode up the material carefully. Harry glanced up at Aspen, blushing while shyly playing with his curls, before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to her stomach. He sighed contently and closed his eyes, his hands now caressing over the exposed skin.
Aspen squeaked out a shy sound, soft breaths replacing her giggles that wanted to escape. She couldn't help but be ticklish, but the feeling of his warmth on her dominated the funny feeling. She felt the graze of his cool lip ring across her belly button before he pressed another kiss, keeping his lips there before he nuzzled his nose against her skin.
"I love you. So, so much," Harry muttered as he continued with his lingering kisses, which slowly turned into open mouth kisses in which he grazed his teeth other the skin, occasionally following with his tongue ever so lightly.
He let out another breath against her skin as his large hands sprawled over the curve of her back, the cool of his ring feeling electrifying against her.
"I love you," She squeaked out once more, a small gasp pressing through her lips. He held her in place, comfortably yet firmly. Harry's hand slid up the small of her back, his other hand following below before he sprawled them back to her waist, giving another squeeze.
Her small fingers carded through the mess of his curls, slightly longer than when she had first met him. But she loved his hair, she always did. She twirled a strand around her finger shyly as her stomach fluttered from how gentle he was.
Harry's lips continued with their open kisses, his bottom catching on her skin as he moved from place to place. He sighed once more, pulling her closer as he pressed a final kiss just below her belly button before looking back up at her.
The man's thumbs pressed small circular motions into her supple skin as he kept his eyes locked on hers. She was shy, he noticed. Her eyes would flicker around his face instead of holding his, and she'd taking shaky breaths or shift on her feet every now and then. Not uncomfortable, just... shyly his.
The corner of his lips turned up, his teeth catching the metallic ring that pierced through his lips. Aspens hands fell from his curls to his jaw, thumbing over the area as she brushed her fingers along the scattered yet cohesive tattoos that decorated his neck. Her thumb brushed over the little mark that she had left, slightly faded and concealed from the ink. A swirl in her stomach was followed by heat rising back to her neck and cheeks, tinting the tips of her ears as the memories of that day rang through her mind.
Harry's large hands continued on with their journey up. He kept his eyes locked on her features, noticing when her cheeks would tint pink or how her lips would momentarily part when his hands cupped over her tits. He gave them a soft squeeze, a satisfied sound falling from his lips while his thumbs brushed along each of her nipples— now perked up.
"Fuck," He sighed in a mutter, sucking in a breath once he had registered she wasn't wearing a bra. Harry swore, once it came to her, he was an erratic teenage boy again. Even the smallest of touches to or from her would send him over the edge. His fingers grazed over the bud once more, drawing a sweet sound from Aspen.
Her shy eyes flickered away, but Harry shook his head. "Look at me, baby."
With flushed cheeks, almost from embarrassment, her brown eyes found his green ones once more. She flickered between both of them, noticing how much darker they had gotten.
"You're so god damn beautiful, did y'know tha'?" He rasped out, leaning forward to press another kiss to her stomach. His fingers continued to brush along her nipples, taking the sensitive bud between his fingers in a gentle rolling motion.
A whimper fell from Aspens lips as her knees buckled slightly, placing her hands on Harry's strong shoulders to keep her up. He chuckled lowly, loving every reaction he was able to draw the first out of from her. Shakily, she whispered out a "thank you", trying to constrain her soft sounds from his torturing touches.
Harry grinned against her stomach, licking his lips slowly as he pulled back. "Such a good girl f'me, always using your manners." His voice was low, an octave less than before when he spoke. Aspen swore she could feel the butterflies rapid wing fire on the inside of her stomach.
She nodded and swallowed, her lips parting into a breathy moan when he gave a particular harsh tug, her brows furrowing. "T-thank you," Aspen stuttered out, her fingers gripping the material of the hoodie he wore.
Harry took his lip ring between his teeth once more as he studied the look on her face. How she was puffing out the cutest whines and whimpers, how her brows would furrow, though she'd try to hide it with her eyes locked on his. She looked so vulnerable, so innocent.
The man attached his lips to her stomach once more, trailing his kisses to the area on her hip right above where the hem of her sleep shorts came up. Harry latched his lips carefully, grazing his teeth over the area between his lips as he sucked a deep bruise into her skin.
The sting was soon complimented by the rush of pleasure that made her head spin. Aspen let out her first moan of the night, a breathy, angelic sound of Harry's name. Her eyes momentarily fluttered shut as he stayed latched to her skin, only opening them in time to watch the way his tongue wetly traced along the dark bruise.
Aspen wouldn't lie. There was something about the way he looked below her. The bruise under his eye, the cut that threatened to snap open at the wrong expression. How the cut on his lip had glossed over from spit, his lips now blotched in a deeper shade.
She fawned over the way his lips moved. They had their own way of working, more stretched and 'square' compared to a circular puck. She noticed it when he'd pucker his lips at her in the shop between clients or in his office as he was about to leave, forming two beautiful lines in his pout rather than hers, a soft rounder mush for him to capsulate.
The girl slid her hands to the base of his neck once more, her fingers dancing along the inked skin as she took in another threatening breath. His fingers came up to hook onto the bottom of the straps, pulling the black strings off her shoulders. His eyes scanned hers from his position for any signs of discomfort before he sat back up as his fingers tugged the material down.
Harry's lips parted in awe as her tits freed from the material, bouncing and perking up from the motion. His eyes were locked the moment they threatened to spill from the black tank, which was now bunched up at her center.
Aspen blushed a deep red, but something about the way he was looking at her made her feel... needy as opposed to uncomfortable.
She watched as his brows furrowed, lips still slick and parted as his hands came up to cup each one. A gentle squeeze at first, before a firm one. He groaned softly, watching as the flesh of her tits pooled between his fingers.
"Fucking hell, Aspen," Harry murmured, squeezing once more. As her nipple popped out from between his fingers, his mouth only fell wider in his awe.
She couldn't help the breathy giggle that escaped her lips as one of her hands came to rest under his chin, gently nudging his mouth to close. He swallowed and cracked his own chuckle, his eyes never leaving the sight.
With a final squeeze, Harry slid his right hand up to the base of her neck, pulling her face towards his before capturing her lips in a kiss. Aspen let out a happy sigh, her hands coming to cup his jaw while his other hand continued its free roam over her chest. The man slid his tongue along her bottom lip, pushing past her parted lips to dance with hers. He let out a small groan at the feeling.
Once their lips had disconnected, Harry's hands worked over her chest once more. He groped at the flesh, running his thumbs over her nipples once more as he placed a kiss to her stomach, just above her belly button. His large hands dropped to her hips, two fingers hooking onto her shorts. "May I?" He asked softly, his eyes finding her beautiful brown ones again. Aspen bit the inside of her bottom lip while she nodded shyly.
Harry’s touch was deliberate yet gentle, his fingertips grazing Aspen’s skin like he was memorizing every detail of her. The soft warmth of her thighs beneath his hands drew him in further, and the way she bit her bottom lip shyly sent his heart into overdrive. He leaned forward, pressing a line of tender kisses along her stomach before letting his lips drift lower, his actions unhurried and full of intention.
As Aspen stepped out of her shorts, Harry held her hips in place as he slid off the edge of the bed, falling gently onto his knees beneath her.
Aspen’s breathing hitched, her hands instinctively finding their way to his curls, the soft texture grounding her in the moment. Her fingers threaded through the strands, lightly tugging as Harry’s lips trailed across her skin. He murmured something inaudible against her, a combination of reverence and affection, before allowing himself to leave faint marks in hidden places.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice hushed but fervent, like she was the only person in the world. His hands rested on her hips, steadying her, as his lips continued their journey. The warmth of his breath against her made her pulse race, and she couldn’t suppress the small sighs of contentment escaping her lips.
Aspen glanced down at him, her cheeks flushed, her expression soft yet full of vulnerability. Harry tilted his head up slightly, catching her gaze. “Do you know how stunning you are?” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion.
She couldn’t bring herself to speak, so she shook her head ever so slightly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. Harry’s grin grew as he let out a quiet chuckle, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh. “I’ll just have to keep proving it to you,” he teased, his tone playful but sincere.
Harry sprawled his large, ring clad fingers onto her thighs, feeling the flesh pool in his hands. His lips latched onto the supple skin with ease, his mouth working wonders into leaving smaller marks this time on the inside of her thighs. As he trailed his mouth higher, his nose lightly brushed against her clothed clit, making the girl gasp and look down at him once again.
The man licked his lips slowly as he closed his eyes, nuzzling his nose against the girls mound. He tilted his head to press a kiss over her clothed clit, his fingers hooking onto the band of her panties to pull them down in one swift, slow motion. Harry kept his eyes trained on the way there was a string of slick connecting from her folds to her panties, watching the bond break in awe once her panties rested above her knee.
Harry licked his lips once more, gently nudging her legs further with his hands before they gave her thighs another firm squeeze. It had been too long since he was able to taste her, missing the sweetness she carried. Without any hesitation or warning, he pressed his tongue flat against her soaked clit.
Aspen's knees buckled as she let out a moan, her fingers gripping his curls slightly at the sudden movement. He wasted no time indulging, gliding his tongue through her wet folds and circling her clit before flicking the tip of his tongue over. His nose rested right over the curve of her cunt, a perfect fit, he thought.
He inhaled slowly and shuddered out a sigh, peeling his eyes open to look up at her. "Y'smell so fucking good," He grumbled out against her before his tongue continued its swift motions. "So soft, so bare. Do it all f'me, dont you? Waiting day by day until I touch this sweet cunt 'f yours."
She couldn't help the whimpers that escaped her, her hips slightly bucking down onto his face whenever he'd swipe his tongue over her clit. "Harry," She whined out in utter need. His words made her clench around the open air.
His hands ran soothing motions along the sides of her thighs, dipping back to the bottom crevice of her ass where he slid his middle fingers into. He groaned at the flesh wrapped around his fingers with ease, his hands digging into her skin.
Harry swirled his tongue once more before he prodded his tongue over her entrance, now in his own state of need. He needed to taste her more, to have her come on his tongue. His tongue flicked over her hole repeatedly in teasing motions which sent Aspen's breathing into an irregular pattern. He was such a tease, applying just under the right amount of pressure to shove his tongue in before he retaliated to come up over her clit once more.
The mans face was filthy. His chin and lips covered in her wet, his throat bobbing each time he swallowed desperately to get the taste of her in his system.
Harry let out a groan against her when his nose brushed along her clit, his tongue pushing into her warmth. She was incredibly tight, the most perfect fit. His head spun any time he thought about how she was ever going to fit his cock inside of her. How her hole would flutter and how she'd cry out from just taking the tip. One of his hands dropped down to palm over his covered bulge, closing his eyes tightly.
Aspen tugged at his hair unexpectedly when she felt his slick tongue enter her. She moaned out, practically cried out, Harry's name in her squeakish voice. Her legs shook slightly from the motion, pleasure coursing through her while she clenched around his tongue. When the tug of his curls came, thats when Harry had lost it.
He wrapped his arms around her the underside of her thighs before quickly flipping them, Aspen landing into the soft plush of her sheets on her back. It took her by surprise, a gasp turning into a whimper with her back arching from the sheets once he got his tongue buried inside her the moment she made contact with the bed.
Harry's strong arms wrapped around her thighs and forced them open as he worked his tongue along the inside of her walls. With every nuzzle and brush of his nose over her clit, her thighs threatened to clamp down if it weren't for his arms. Aspen's small hands found his curls again, now testing the waters as she gave another tug.
The man groaned and pressed his hips down into the mattress as his movements became more feverish. Not only did she taste like pure sweet innocence, her hands worked wonders that he'd never expect.
"Fuck," Harry groaned as he pulled away, his mouth and chin a complete mess. His eyes flickered up to Aspens face, who was panting slightly with a full on blush now.
"Heaven 's really sent me the best fuckin' pussy, huh?"
The filth that poured from Harry's mouth made her tummy coil. "Please," she whined out, tugging his head back down subconsciously by his curls. He smirked at his mouth latched over her clit, tongue flicking in between his kisses and sucking.
He loved that she was getting more dirty with him, more open to getting what she wanted. It turned Harry on like crazy when she got like this. When she would beg him, even if it was just a word, it had his hips rutting into the mattress below.
His own moans poured out over her clit as his mouth sloppily encapsulated her whole, his tongue brushing up from her entrance to her clit and back down, plunging into the tight warmth.
"Oh god," Aspen gasped out into a moan, her hips twitching. The feeling in her stomach bubbled up as the seconds went on with his torturous mouth. "Please, Daddy, please just...," She babbled on in her little voice, unsure of what it was she needed she just knew it had to be Harry.
Aspen's chest rose and fell as she took in needed breaths to calm herself, but with every motion of his tongue, she was so fucked and hooked on the feeling. He knew what he was doing, and she didn't need to have past experience to know just how good he was.
He pushed himself up, giving a final swirl of his tongue over her entirety before he sat onto his knees, his left hand shoving the material of his sweats down. The other was buried between her thighs, his middle finger coating itself in her slick and his spit as he ran it along her folds.
Harry grabbed the hem of the hoodie with his teeth, tugging it upward in one fluid motion as his arms lifted to pull it off completely. The material slipped from his grasp and onto the bed, leaving him kneeling in front of Aspen in nothing but his sweats.
"You drive me insane, baby," He grunted, his free cock flying up to slap against his lower abdomen. Aspen sat up, propping herself on her elbows as she watched. His tip, burning a firey deep red, slick with precum.
She froze, her brown eyes wide as they took him in fully for the first time. She had felt the hard planes of his chest beneath her touch before, but seeing him like this, completely bare and unguarded, was an entirely different experience.
His skin was a warm tan, a canvas that seemed perfectly crafted for the intricate ink that covered him. The tattoo of a large butterfly spread its wings across the center of his chest, commanding attention, while a scattering of smaller, meaningful designs adorned the rest of him. Each line and shade of the tattoos seemed deliberate, their placement enhancing the natural curves of his body.
Aspen’s gaze lingered, drawn to the defined slope of his collarbones and the strong pecs beneath them. The way his chest rose and fell with every rugged breath kept her captivated. Her eyes wandered lower, tracing the dips and curves of his abs, the ridges subtly visible even under the soft light of the room. Every muscle seemed sculpted, defined but not overly harsh, the kind of build that was both rugged and effortless.
"Harry..." she breathed, her voice soft, almost reverent. Her gaze flitted back to his face, her cheeks heating as she realized how long she had been staring. "I… I’ve never…"
The corner of Harry’s lips quirked into a small smile, his green eyes glinting with affection as he watched her reaction. “What? Never seen a bloke with his shirt off?” he teased lightly, but there was a softness in his tone, a tenderness that told her he didn’t mind her looking.
She shook her head quickly, her words tumbling out in a shy rush. “No, not like this. I mean… not you.”
His smile widened, and he leaned closer, his hand finding her waist as he leaned down. “You can look as long as you want,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a quiet, playful pitch. “I don’t mind. In fact, I like the way you look at me.”
Aspen’s heart thudded in her chest as she dared to let her fingers lightly graze along his skin, her touch hesitant but curious. The warmth of him beneath her fingertips, the firmness of his chest and the soft give of his skin where it wasn’t inked, sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t help herself as her fingers traced the moth tattoo, marveling at the detail before her touch traveled lower, skimming the edge of the tattoos that dipped just above his hips.
Then, his finger pushed into her. She gasped, falling flat onto her back with a soft plush sound. Harry kept his finger in place, knuckle deep, as his lips latched onto the skin of her chest. He kissed warmly and wet over her collarbones, dragging his lips down to her perky tits. He groaned as his lips brushed over her nipple, eliciting a gasp-like whimper from Aspen.
Harry took the bud between his teeth lightly, flicking his tongue over it. Aspen sucked in a breath, ultimately succumbing to the pleasure when he rolled her nipple between his teeth as he started to pump his finger. Just one was doing wonders for her, she couldn't imagine taking him whole.
"Tha's such a good girl," The man muttered against her skin as he traveled to pay the same attention to her other breast. "You feel so tight, such a fuckin' innocent little virgin, my god," He muttered off before his mouth became occupied once more. This was Heaven for Harry.
The hand on her waist landed on the base of his cock, swallowing lightly as he gave himself a firm squeeze before he gave a sharp tug. With his eyes closed, his mind went back to how his hand swallowed hers whole when she fisted his cock in his office. How she looked so innocent yet so curious, wanting to learn how to please him.
Harry curled the finger inside of her as his thumb landed on her clit, rubbing in circular motions while he found that sweet spot inside her with ease.
Aspen's eyes widened as her breath faltered, a long, whiny moan escaping her red lips. "Oh...," She swallowed, driving her hips down to meet the pace of his hand.
He only smirked against her skin, pulling up while licking his lips. The man stared down at the sight below him. Her legs spread wide, perky tits just begging for his attention, her hair messy and sprawled out around her on the bed while her face was twisted in sweet pleasure.
The pace of his hand on his cock quickened, watching the way her cunt eagerly swallowed his finger. Without another thought, Harry pressed in his ring finger, the stretch around his fingers making him groan.
Aspen's eyes shot fully open at that, sucking in a breath as she looked up at Harry. Fuck. The way his chest flexed with each pump of his cock, his curls falling in his face, and how he was so focused on where his fingers were.
She swore she was about to pass out. He pumped his fingers slowly at first, but he took it as a sign to speed things up when she clenched around his digits.
"Shit," He moaned, tossing his head back as he swiped a thumb over his tip. The man shifted over on his knees, his cock enveloped in his fist right over the apex of her thighs.
"Can't wait t'have you," Harry shuddered in a moan, curling and pumping his fingers as she gushed around them. His hand around his cock matched the aching pace.
"The day I feel this sweet little pussy around me? God, the Lord can take me," He grunted, removing his thumb from her clit momentarily to drag the tip of his cock between her folds and over the sensitive bud before his thumb fell back.
It was hard. Took everything in him to not do it over and over and over again until he could slyly slip inside of her, make her cry out from the stretch. He never wanted to hurt her, wanted to take his time, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't do something to his head and his cock when he imagined how her eyes would prickle with tears and how her cunt would stretch out deliciously for him. Taking whats hers and making it his.
Aspen felt the coil in her tummy rise quick. She whimpered softly and reached up, desperate for some sort of contact. Moans poured from her lips, some of his name and some of incoherent plea's.
Harry panted, looking up at her through his lashes before he released his cock and quickly took her hand into his, giving it a squeeze before wrapping it around himself.
"C'mon, sweet girl. Take whats yours, and-- fuck," He grunted when she swiped her thumb over his tip, the clasp of her hand focused on his tip. Harry hunched forward slightly, the sensitive pleasure shooting up his spine. "And make me come, yeah?" He moaned out, losing whatever sense of composure he had.
The man continued fucking her with his fingers, drawing delicious moans from his girl when he'd circle over her clit. He could feel the way she clenched around him repeatedly, aching for release.
"Harry," Aspen cried out into a moan, her eyes screwing shut as her orgasm washed through her. Her legs shook and pressed around his hand. Harry let out a string of curse words as he quickly leaned forward, capturing her lips with his own.
The man swallowed her sweet sounds as he helped her pump his cock between kisses. After a few more tugs and with how Aspen teased over the tip of his cock, he lost it. Thick ropes of his come spurted along her lower tummy, catching strands on the top of her cunt. He panted into her mouth in between kisses, coaxing her and praising her for how well she did.
He placed another sloppy kiss to her lips then her jaw before he reluctantly sat back up before he toppled onto her, his own chest heaving.
His fingers were drenched with her liquids, a small bit of his own on his wrist as he pulled them out slowly. With a lopsided grin, he took his fingers between his mouth and licked them clean, his green eyes raking over her spent body.
"Can't let it go to waste, hm?"
Aspen giggled shyly, pressing her thighs together. She felt exposed, so vulnerable in the best ways. She brushed the hair out of her face and giggled once more, shaking her head. Her fingers dipped down to her lower stomach, collecting his come on her finger before she raised it to her lips. The girl set her finger on her tongue, wrapping her lips around the digit as she looked up at him, a teasing smile creeping up on her lips before she removed it with a 'pop'.
"Fuckin' hell, Aspen," He groaned, dropping his head as he planted his hands on her bent knees. A second passed before he practically ripped them open, falling tongue first over her cunt to lick her clean. He smirked as she withered beneath him, gasping and whining about how sensitive it was but he was determined to get every last drop of her.
Harry collected the rest of his come onto his two fingers once he sat up, licking his lips clean and wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He scooted up, closer to Aspen who was now propped up on her elbows. The man caught her bottom lip with his thumb and pulled her lips apart, sliding his other two fingers between them and onto her tongue.
"Suck," he demanded, a smirk tugging his lips when she obliged.
When his fingers came out clean, Harry took the opportunity to lock their lips. This one was softer, carried a hint of sweetness and care, as if telling her she did such a good job for him.
"I love you," The man muttered against her lips, sighing contently as he continued to work her plush ones. After a few seconds and lingering kisses, he sat back up and placed his hands on her knees, this time using his thumb to caress the skin.
"I love you, H," she squeaked, slowly blinking up at him, still in her foggy state after what they had just done.
"You did so good for me, y'know that? Took everything so well, let me have you and taste you. Which is my favorite thing to do, hm? Never take tha' away from me," He teased with a smile, his tongue brushing over his lips once more.
Harry’s thumb continued to draw small circles on Aspen’s knees, his touch grounding her as she caught her breath. The hazy glow in her brown eyes softened into something tender, something he could lose himself in. His chest swelled with a warmth that went beyond the physical, a kind of contentment he hadn’t known he needed until this very moment.
Leaning forward, Harry pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his lips brushing against the damp skin there. “Let’s get you comfortable, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, as though he didn’t want to disturb the quiet intimacy they had created.
Aspen nodded slowly, her cheeks still tinged with warmth as she met his gaze. The way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the room that mattered—made her heart flutter. Harry slipped off the bed with ease, stretching briefly before making his way to the small bathroom adjacent to the room. She heard the sound of water running, and a few moments later, he returned with a warm, damp towel in hand.
“Here, sweetheart,” he said, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His gentle smile only deepened as he carefully began to wipe her down, the warmth of the towel soothing against her flushed skin. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, and full of care, as though she was something fragile he was determined to handle with the utmost tenderness.
Aspen watched him, her heart swelling with affection. The contrast of his earlier dominance and the gentle devotion he now displayed left her feeling safe, adored, and completely seen. Her fingers found their way into his curls again, absentmindedly twirling the soft strands as he worked.
“Thank you, H,” she whispered softly, her voice full of sincerity.
Harry glanced up at her, his green eyes sparkling with emotion. “You never have to thank me for takin’ care of you, love. I like lookin’ after you.”
Once he was finished, he tossed the towel into the bathroom and made his way to her closet, pulling open the doors. His brows furrowed in concentration as he sifted through her clothes, searching for something comfortable. “This’ll do,” he muttered to himself, grabbing one of her baggiest shirts and a fresh pair of panties before bringing them over.
“Arms up,” he said with a cheeky grin, helping her out of her current top and slipping the oversized shirt over her head. He placed a quick kiss on her temple before helping her into the clean pair of panties, his touch never lingering too long, respecting her need for comfort.
As they settled back into bed, the music on her speaker faded into silence. The stillness was short-lived, though, as muffled snickering broke through from the hallway. The sound of hurried footsteps followed, making Aspen freeze.
“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “They were listening, weren’t they?”
Harry burst into laughter, his chest shaking as he pulled her hands away to kiss her knuckles. “Probably,” he said with a shrug. “But can you blame ’em? We’re a tough act to ignore.”
Aspen smacked his arm playfully, her face glowing red. “This is mortifying.”
“C’mon, love,” he teased, his grin widening. “It’s not like we were exactly quiet.” He leaned closer, brushing his nose against hers. “Besides, I think we’ve just given Zayn some competition.”
She rolled her eyes, but a giggle slipped past her lips. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he quipped, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. His hands slipped under the oversized shirt, resting warmly on her back as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
As they lay tangled together, Aspen sighed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the ink on his chest. “I can’t believe you just did all that wearing Zayn’s clothes,” she teased softly, her voice light and playful.
Harry chuckled, his lips brushing against her hair. “What can I say? I make anything look good.” He paused, his tone turning mischievous. “And one day, we’ll do even worse.”
Aspen laughed softly, shaking her head as she nestled closer to him. The teasing faded into a comfortable silence, their breaths syncing as they held each other.
As sleep began to pull her under, Aspen thought about how safe and loved she felt in his arms. Harry, on the other hand, couldn’t stop marveling at the way her presence filled every empty space inside him.
“I love you,” she murmured sleepily, her words muffled against his chest.
Harry smiled, his hold tightening just slightly. “I love you more, Asp. Always.”
And with that, the two drifted off, the world outside their little bubble fading into nothing.
#harry styles#fanfic#one direction#zayn malik#niall horan#fanfiction#wattpad fanfiction#wattpad#louis tomlinson#harry styles fanfiction#smut#harry smut#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing
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After Midnight
Annual pride fic is here! I hope everyone is staying safe, well, and hydrated :) Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3
TW for alcohol/ light drunkenness/hangovers
July 1, 1:30 p.m.
“Jesus,” Remus mumbled. Pressure pinched his lower back, runching up his shirt; he dug a clumsy hand beneath himself and fumbled for his phone. It took a few moments to extract it, clamped between weak knuckles, but he managed. Handful of Twitter notifications, a text from his dad, an automatic calendar notification, sticky lips and—good god, did his hair really look that bad?
He tried to sit up and was met with an immediate (and wildly cranky) grumble from the concrete slab resting across his belly.
Remus sighed, and closed his eyes. Getting up was overrated. He didn’t even want to think about the state of the house.
June 30, 10:30 p.m.
“AYO AYO AYO!”
Kasey winced. “Christ, Harz, take some pity on my eardrums.”
“Hey, man, sorry—has anyone seen the margarita mix?”
“Side counter,” Remus noted, tipping his chin toward the kitchen. “By the sink.”
Finn’s face brightened. “Sick, thanks.”
“Gentle pours, please. Not everyone here has a college liver.”
“Please,” Finn snorted as he cracked a screw-top open. “You’re all in much better shape than those guys ever were. Knutty around?”
Remus shrugged and took another sip of his beer. He liked this kind—Sirius had picked well. “Went off somewhere with Reg. Probably gaming.”
Finn whistled through his teeth. “Not getting him back anytime soon, eh?”
“Oh, you bet,” Remus laughed.
July 1, 2:00 p.m.
“We should ban frat boys from the team.”
“Mmm.”
“All of them. Every one.”
“Mmm.”
“Or at least remove the—” Sirius paused to catch another mouthful of water directly from the faucet. For the first time in Remus’ memory, his glossy hair looked slightly dull and flat. “—lead weights from their hands, mon dieu, what did they put in there?”
“Hell. Burning, vicious, alcoholic hell.” He turned his head with utmost caution, and still felt a warning throb in the back of his skull. “I liked those ciders you picked up.”
Sirius groaned; Remus watched his forehead bump the side of the kitchen cabinet with a soft noise. “Don’t talk to me about cider right now. My tongue feels like I licked one of your sweaters.”
Remus frowned. “You like my sweaters.”
“That’s not…” Sirius straightened with a wince. Both hands remained braced on the marble. “The fuzzy stuff, it’s all in my mouth. Wool.”
Remus thought it was rather more like someone had packed his cheeks and sinuses full of cotton balls, but sharing that didn’t seem like the wisest choice. Nine hours of sleep. Dizziness still threatened every attempt at movement. The tap turned off and he heard Sirius’ footsteps approach; pressure compacted Remus’ ribs once more with a wobbly flop.
“I like this shirt,” Sirius mumbled into his left pec. His voice was thick—from his hangover or drowsiness or just giving up on English, Remus wasn’t sure. Knowing Sirius, it was a bit of all three. His stubble scratched gently over Remus’ collarbone, still damp from sticking his head in the sink. “Soft. Cute.”
“It’s one of yours.”
“Ah. I have good taste.”
“Clearly.”
The corner of Sirius’ mouth pulled up in a smile. “Hmm. Harzy and Tremz are going to be doing bag skates until their legs fall off.”
Remus snorted, trailing his fingertips through the squashed curls at Sirius’ nape. “Not to play frat boy’s advocate here, but in their very weak defense, I don’t think the punch alone did this.”
“Non. Margaritas.”
“I still think Lily poured extra in.”
“Ouais, prolab—probleb—oui. She did.”
A phone screen lit up in Remus’ periphery. He grabbed for it, stiff-fingered and extremely stuck beneath a lump of husband, and squinted into the bright light. “Pots says good morning, and that he’s going to go lay on the porch for a few hours. He loves you.”
“Mmph. Love, too.”
June 30, 11:25 p.m.
Sirius loved parties. He fucking loved them. This was the best night of his life. Second-best, after his wedding. Or third? He was happy when Harry was born. But no, his ribs were still broken then. That had to put it under tonight, because tonight was perfectly amazing and awesome, and James was his—
“You’re my favorite person,” he yelled over the music, leaning on James’ shoulder in case he didn’t hear. “I love you!”
“I love you, too!” James shouted back. His glasses had gone a bit sideways on his face. That was fine. Lily would totally fix those for him. She liked to kiss his nose, and she had once told Sirius that fixing James’ glasses made sure she got to do it. Sirius thought she might want to pick something that wasn’t so easily broken.
“Hey,” he continued with a pull to James’ shirtsleeve. “I kiss loup on the mouth.”
“I know!”
“And the cheek!”
“Why are you telling me things I already know?”
“Because Lily kisses your nose,” he explained. Maybe the music was too loud for James to understand. He looked confused. “And you can break your nose. But you can’t break your mouth or your cheeks.”
Finally, understanding dawned on James’ face. “Dude,” he said. “You’re so right. We gotta go tell her.”
July 1, 2:07 p.m.
Remus set Sirius’ phone down on his lower back and reached for his own, wiggling a little when his hips got stuck under Sirius’ torso. A displeased huff followed—he kissed the top of Sirius’ head in apology and let the popsocket slot between his fingers, just in case. He was so clammy all of a sudden.
You Have (4) New Messages From: Lion Den RAHH
everyone not dead sound off
breathing.
Technically alive. Wish I wasn’t.
who made the fucikgn margs
New Message To: Lion Den RAHH
Not dead. Margs were Harz and Lily. You fuckers need to clean up after yourselves.
He had just clicked his phone off when the screen went retina-blasting bright again. Remus let his head fall back against the armrest and immediately regretted it. It took an embarrassing amount of time to lift his head again without the room tilting sideways.
New Message From: Lion Den RAHH
Big words. Small brain. Still drunj
*drnuk
DTUNK.
Three gray dots scrolled, then vanished. Remus smiled to himself. The vindictive part of him was glad to see they weren’t the only ones in Pride-induced misery.
New Message From: Lion Den RAHH
Some1 help knutty is snorng like a fucking chainswa
Remus glanced down. “Did you know Knutty snores?”
“In planes.”
The shallow rhythm of Sirius’ breathing flexed the shirt across his back. Remus gave an appreciative rub along the valley of his spine and felt him arch into it. “Aw,” he cooed. “My poor little hungover lion cub.”
“Nooo,” Sirius protested weakly.
“Poor baby. How will you survive.”
“At least you don’t snore.”
“True.”
“Is Harzy suffering?”
“As much as he can while he’s in bed on a Saturday with his boyfriends.”
“Good.”
July 1, 12:15 a.m.
“Bonjour, hi, hi.”
An arm caught him around the waist—Remus stumbled, but within half a step he had been gathered up against a warm, familiar chest. “Oh, hey,” he hummed, dopey even to his own ears. “Missed you.”
Sirius might have returned the sentiment, but Remus didn’t hear it through the buzz in his veins and the stutter of his heart when Sirius’ mouth found his own. He staggered backward with a sharp inhale and let Sirius carry their momentum. His back hit the wall; Sirius sighed into his lips when Remus dragged a hand through the top of his hair.
He tasted like oranges when Remus bit his lower lip. “Yum.”
“Love you,” Sirius said, smiling. Their foreheads bumped and Remus pushed into it. He was rewarded with another kiss that turned his ankles to loose jello. “Non, non, don’t leave.”
“Mmm, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised through a grin.
His eyes closed as Sirius’ mouth trailed over his cheek and jaw, then down to suck at his neck. “Should’ve done this earlier.”
Teeth grazed his skin with each word; Remus shivered despite the warm night. “Yeah?”
“Before the parade.” The sway of Sirius’ accent did unholy things to his heart. Stubble teased his skin when Sirius nudged under his chin. “That way everyone could see.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Remus breathed.
July 1, 3:45 p.m.
“Did you drown?”
Sirius glared at him across the bedroom, playful and foggy. Remus grinned and took a swig of Gatorade.
“You look like you did.”
“How are you rebounding?” Sirius grumbled.
Water droplets stuck to the mirror with each scrub of the towel through his hair. He’d left it longer than usual in the postseason, fluffy around his ears and neck. Remus was inclined to keep it that way as long as he could. He met Sirius’ gaze in the mirror and took another pointed sip. “Our lady of blessed electrolytes.”
“…give it.”
July 1, 1:30 a.m.
Sweat and glitter burned crystalline in the glow of multicolored LEDs. Sirius wasn’t sure where—or who—the glitter had come from, but finding one culprit in this crowd would be a losing battle, and one that required him to stand up. There was no way in hell he was leaving this perfect place.
Remus’ eyelashes threw shadows over his freckles when he blinked. “Do you think they’ll start leaving soon?”
“I’ve been hoping since midnight.”
His laugh was everything. Quieter at first, a mischievous snicker blooming loud at the end. Sirius let his eyes fall shut when Remus leaned over. His temple nestled against Sirius’ forehead. “Hi.”
The seam of his jeans rippled under Sirius’ fingertip. His quad flexed, and Sirius felt the weight in his lap grow heavier while Remus settled in. “Hey.”
“Proud of you.”
Sirius pressed his smile to a blush-warm cheek. God, he loved how pink Remus turned on nights like this. “I love you.”
It only took a minute adjustment, and they were kissing. He kept it soft and long and chaste, more a series of small pecks brought together by their closeness than anything. The tip of Remus’ nose was cool on the bridge of his own. He nibbled the corner of that grin and tasted bright apple-sugar, chasing it with a flick of tongue.
“You’re bad,” Remus murmured with audible delight, twisting slightly. He hardly went far—most of his weight rested on Sirius’ chest and he came closer without hesitation when Sirius tugged on his hips. His golden eyes flashed in the sudden transition from hot pink to blue lining their walls. “We have company.”
“So did Dumo.” Sirius kissed the roundness of his lower lip. “When we won the Cup.”
“We can’t throw a fuckin’ Pride party and then sneak off in the middle of it. It’s cliché.”
“If this is the middle, I’m sneaking off to sleep in an hour, and you can decide to join me or not.”
Remus’ laugh was loud all the way through, this time.
July 1, 6:00 p.m.
The groupchat had grown steadily more active as the hours passed and more of their friends were revived from their howling, sharp-toothed hangovers. Remus, for his part, had already sworn off alcohol six times in the past four hours. He hadn’t been left this hard-over since his junior year of college.
A gust of wind blew in from one of the many open windows and ruffled his shirt. Remus grimaced. “I still smell like a distillery.”
Sirius (who, despite his whinging, had recovered rather fast) sniffed the air. “Ouais.”
“Thanks, baby.”
“Worth it, though.”
Remus gave him a sideways look. “Was it?”
Sirius glanced up and frowned, then set his slice of pizza down. “I liked the party.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” One of his broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It was nice, having people around. The parade was fun. Kind of busy.” He took another bite, tipping his head back and forth thoughtfully even as a gentle blush colored his neck. “I like showing you off.”
Remus liked to think he had grown accustomed to Sirius’ sweetness—to his big heart and kind words, both of which were reserved for a select few that somehow included Remus. Yet he constantly found himself left speechless, cast far out to sea by the sheer honesty Sirius saved for him.
He stretched a leg out under the table and tangled their ankles together. “Love you.” Remus tilted his chin vaguely toward the window. “Here, and out there. For us and them.”
“We should have more parties,” Sirius said by way of an answer. The blush had risen to his ears. His foot ran along the length of Remus’ shin.
“Okay.”
“I want to see everyone, and I want to love you so they know it.”
Remus’ face hurt from keeping his smile from drifting too close to utter lunacy. “Okay.”
“We should ban glitter next year.” Sirius nodded to himself, then nudged Remus’ foot. “And frat boys.”
“They’re gay frat boys, though. They have a right.”
The bridge of Sirius’ nose wrinkled. Fucking adorable. “Well, maybe they just need to pick a side.”
“Lily was partially responsible for the biohazard margaritas,” Remus pointed out, picking a piece of pepperoni off Sirius’ slice and adding it to his own.
“She’s out, too.” Sirius jabbed his pizza at him. “And you’re on thin fucking ice, thief.”
“I’ll pick her party over yours.”
“You can’t pick your best friend over the person you’re gay married to. It’s Pride.”
Remus stole another pepperoni, dodging the smack of Sirius’ hand. “Then I’ll get gay married to Lily.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Any marriage I’m in is a gay one,” Remus informed him, slouching lower in his seat to hook his calf around Sirius’. “I can gay marry anyone I want. I’ll gay marry a dozen people and go to all their parties over yours. Ha-ha-ha.”
Sirius flicked a piece of pineapple at him; it bounced off his chin, and while he was distracted, Sirius stole one of his pepperonis back with a triumphant grin. “Fine. See if any of them put up with you like I do.”
“Thief.”
A foot poked Remus in the back of the knee. “Doesn’t count if it was already mine.”
#remus lupin#sirius black#coops#fluff#sweater weather#vaincre#my fic#fanfic#lumosinlove#kasey winter#finn o'hara#alcohol
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Deep In Those Woods- Chapter 8
Keegan P. Russ x Fem!Reader
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6- Chapter 7- Chapter 8
AO3
You find a strange man in the woods, no doubt running from the federation. He seems, well, in simple terms beat to shit. May your act of kindness not go unpunished.
A/N: holy fuck i'm back?
Taglist:
@dindjarinsmeshla @tessxq @ladyvlolypop @tiny-kasper
@biggiecheeselover @konigsleftkidney @mykneeshurt @katsufairies @noname0756 @brain-has-left @vinithechocolatevampire
It was the sound of men that woke You. Dazed somewhere in between the land of sleep and consciousness- the lead heavy feeling of dread settled in her gut as you opened your eyes. The hairs of the back of your neck- arms- raised straight and tall.
The sound of men.
A million horrible thoughts flashed through your mind- none of them you’d be willing to sit down and analyze too quickly- to send yourself down that spiral of dread and reality. It had been nearly three weeks since that dreadful man took the mask from your hands, and simply walked out into the forest without so much as an acknowledgement or a thank you. It had been a week of anger- a week of sorrow at the loss of the little companionship you’d been able to savor in this self-inflicted, necessary, prison.
The sounds of whooping-
Gunshots.
Seven.
You were up, moving in the dark. Your clothes- dirty from the work in the garden yesterday piled at the foot of your bed were already being pulled on. A light sweater- overalls, socks. Your bedroom door was open, with a straight shot to see the tunneling flashlights the group of men were carrying tearing through the dark of night. There’s a handgun in your bedside drawer- a 40 cal that belonged to your father. It felt heavy and cold but tucked neatly into the strap along the waist of your overalls. The extra clips tucked into the many pockets.
Your chest, flat against the floor as you slid forward- arm outstretched. The pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Grabbing the large canvas bag pre-packed with essentials. Right next to it the long, cold cylindrical metal of a shotgun.
Yours.
You’d grimmance- but even though there were too many thoughts running through your mind it was silent. A horrible calm- the retracted muddy floor of the sea before a tsunami. The sound of the butt of the shotgun dragging against the wooden floors as you pulled it closer- up into your arms as if you were coddling a child hiding from the monster.
More gunshots.
Rifles. Close.
Three shots.
You slip into the kitchen at the sound of breaking glass- had they tried the door knob they’d have known that it wasn’t locked. Not here- not in her safe place. There had never been any stragglers in the years she’d spent here.
Not until he had come-
Wrapping preserved jars in fabric as quickly as you could- a satchel of fabric and dried meats, anything you could quickly grab and stuff into the bag to remain as quiet as possible without alerting them to the possibility of your presence.
They’re speaking- a language you can’t understand. Spanish, part of you offers up. The only logical language in this fucking occupation-
Footsteps, getting closer.
The cabinets in front of you illuminated, the glass reflecting back and flowing the tall figure of a man with a light on the end of his rifle.
Your heartbeat, pounding.
Your grip tightens on the gun- finger inched towards the trigger. Dread’s cold claws digging into your skin- would you be fast enough? Could you truly fight back? Kill? What will they do with your body?
You close your eyes, as tight as they can go- the sound of the man's footsteps on wood changes, now on tile. Now in the kitchen- behind nearly ten feet backwards and to the left.
You have no shoes- you have no plan. You are packed- ready for this, dreading the possibility but preparing for it since the day you came out here.
You are not ready for this-
You are not ready for death, you are not ready to die- you are not ready.
Not ready-
Not ready at all-
The footsteps retract at the sound of a man calling from down the hall. Counting to ten, you peak your head out to see the backs of two men standing in the hallway daring to look into your bedroom.
The sound of drawers being opened- the sound of pillaging, rustling.
The bile rises in the back of your throat. Your eyes quickly snap to look at the pair of shoes sitting by the door. They’d both ducked into your bedroom completely, the sound of your socks against the flooring not registering. Grabbing both shoes-
Laughing-
You crane your neck to the side, the sound of it- predatory and gleeful. Snickering and muttering little comments back and forth to each other. Peeking your head out barely from behind the line of sight of a beam you could see it. They stood in the doorway nearly chest to chest pawing over something shared between their hands- fighting over it like dogs ripping apart the corpse of an alleycat cornered in its home.
Held between two hands was a pair of your panties- being waved around like a prize.
You wanted to vomit.
Without thinking, the butt of the shotgun was shouldered against you. Feet squared. You take two steps to the right- thigh brushing up against the couch you’d spent so many hours lazing on. Staring up at the sky and dreaming of the future and better days- the flowers that came every year in the spring.
The sound of your foot scraping against the ground.
Their heads turn- stepping forward.
The sound of the shot didn’t register, only the kick against your shoulder. Suddenly the top and sides of the doorframe are much darker- a splatter against the wall.
The slump of two bodies.
The sounds of shouting.
The racking back and forth of the shotgun filling the ringing in your ears.
You're running- out the side door of the kitchen and away from the flashlights flickering across the lawn and into your home. There’s barely a sliver of moonlight in the sky, just enough light and the habitual knowledge of the land beneath you keeping you from tripping up and screaming in fear.
The flashlights flicker onto the glass in front of you- you see the hairs atop your head in your peripheral reflecting light. The blinding glare of a flashlight to the left of you catching up too quickly- not with the weight of your bag to keep up with.
He’s going to tackle you- you know this. You know that when he gets you down onto the ground you won’t be able to fight back. He’ll be too heavy- too strong.
You stop, spin as quickly as you can while raising the shotgun up- not enough time to properly shoulder it and fire. You feel nothing other than the pounding of your heartbeat and the adrenaline coursing through your veins. His body is still in motion, colliding with you and sending you tumbling to the ground.
The wet gurgling and the hot, sticky blood pouring onto you. The shotgun tossed somewhere to the side forgotten as you force down a gag- swallowing the vomit rising up in the back of your throat. You push your hands onto shoulders, only to be met with something you could only explain as hot hamburger meat.
You can feel the blood seeping out of the holes with the last pumps of his heart. Your pinky- slipping into one of the holes near his collarbone. You feel the bone- under the skin, trying to heave his dead weight off of you. Rolling, struggling, kicking your legs out and onto the ground trying to obtain better traction. Slipping your arm from the back weighing you down, you roll back and forth obtaining the smallest momentum and are able to push the corpse from your body and onto the grass beneath you. Staring up into the sky trying to spit the blood from your lips- blinded by the flashlight at the end of the rifle inches from your face.
#call of duty#deep in those woods#Keegan russ#Keegan p. Russ#keegan p. russ x reader#keegan russ x reader
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